Li Qingyu stood in line for half an hour. His legs began to tremble from fatigue when he finally reached his goal.
A Water Purification Guild employee with a grim face silently extended his hand, expressing a complete unwillingness to engage in conversation.
If Li Qingyu did not pay within three seconds, the guard with an electro-baton would remind him.
Without a moment's delay, he took out a fertilizer coupon worth 1 jao and handed it to the window.
Fertilizer coupons served as the special currency of this planet. The Empire encompassed millions of worlds, and a single currency simply did not exist.
Trade between worlds was conducted by barter, but for internal circulation, each planet introduced its own money.
Somewhere it was coins, somewhere paper bills, and sometimes even workdays.
Planet 496b was an agricultural world, and fertilizers played a key role in production. Therefore, coupons exchangeable for fertilizers naturally became the money of this world.
The employee took the payment and pointed to a black canister of low-grade ceramic steel standing to the side, with a volume of three liters.
Li Qingyu picked up the water and walked away, thinking about how to assemble his own water purifier. After all, if supplies ran out, he would have to stand in line again, and that was unbearably long.
Then he moved to the food distribution point. A new queue awaited him – several hundred people, and irritation again entered his blood.
From a distance, he could see the distribution point: gray, cheap ceramic steel barrels filled with a viscous food mass.
It was a thick mixture of potatoes, grains, vegetables, salt, and chemically produced protein. For 1 jao, you could get a portion that could feed an adult for three days.
Li Qingyu had eaten this many times. In a word – disgusting. Cheap feed that the upper echelons dumped into the Lower Hive to satisfy the hunger of the local population and avoid rebellion.
If not for the fear that the refuse would start wasting resources without measure, they would probably have forgiven even this 1 jao.
Although the sludge was disgusting, Li Qingyu understood: in the Warhammer 40k world, where monsters and demons ruled everywhere, those who still ate plant-based food were extraordinarily happy – their lot was better than ninety-nine percent of the Imperium.
Most, however, ate corpse starch – and that was much more terrifying.
Twenty minutes later, only thirty people remained before Li Qingyu. The queue was slowly but steadily shrinking.
And as if by chance, at that moment, some impudent fellow, without a shred of conscience, cut in right in front of him. A real jumper.
Li Qingyu was taken aback, and then felt a flash of rage. He patted the impudent fellow on the shoulder, intending to say something, but the latter sharply turned around, pressing a dagger to his throat.
"You little bastard, if you don't want to die, shut up, or I'll cut off your dick and shove it in your mouth!"
The surrounding people immediately moved away, but no one left the queue. The staff of the aid station merely glanced indifferently and remained silent. They were used to bloody scenes.
As long as the skirmish didn't concern them, let all these thousands kill each other – no one would even blink. To them, it was just trash from the Underhive.
Li Qingyu felt the cold of the blade on his skin and blinked.
The attacker took him for intimidated, grinned, and put away the knife.
But as soon as the blade moved away, Li Qingyu instantly shot his body forward, his fist imprinting itself on the enemy's stomach.
A Force of 12 units – two points above average. The blow was devastating: the impudent fellow groaned dully, fell out of the queue, and collapsed to his knees.
He did not expect resistance and, upon recovering, immediately went into a rage. Drawing his dagger again, he lunged forward – but at that very moment, he froze: the barrel of a gun was pressed to his forehead.
A rebel-made pistol, 15mm caliber, with a front magazine for 5 rounds.
Crude, heavy, inaccurate, but monstrously powerful – at close range, a bullet could take down a bear. It was a trophy once found on the surface.
Li Qingyu pulled the trigger without a word. Bang. The attacker didn't even have time to squeak – his head exploded in a bloody cloud, his body shuddered and went limp.
The onlookers froze for only a second, then everything returned to its usual rhythm. Even the queue didn't waver; only occasionally did someone glance at the corpse.
Hiding the weapon, Li Qingyu searched the body. He took out a crude dagger, a little more than two fertilizer coupons, and three water purification tablets.
Taking the loot, he calmly returned to the queue.
After a while, several Underhive residents stripped the clothes off the dead man. Even later, his shoes and underwear disappeared.
When Li Qingyu received his food and walked away, nothing remained of the body. It was probably made into kebabs. Only a few unfortunate souls remained, licking the blood for salt and trace elements.
Such was the ecology of the bottom of the Warhammer 40k world.
After that, Li Qingyu headed to the shop. Here, unlike the distribution points, it was empty.
A boutique with expensive goods – the basement rats didn't dare to come here. The prices were biting.
Li Qingyu addressed the lazy seller:
"A pack of scented candles, three cans of cooking oil, and a bottle of chili."
The seller gave him a long look and grumbled:
"Fifty-five coupons."
Li Qingyu laid out sixty. Only then did the seller laugh, carefully gathered the goods, put them in a fiber bag, and handed them to the client.
With purchases in hand, Li Qingyu headed home. From the dark corners, envious eyes watched him.
On planet 496b, a farmer earned about 150-200 coupons, and an Underhive inhabitant – no more than twenty.
The boutique existed for bandit bosses. It was considered a sin for a simple beggar to even look in its direction.
And suddenly – a loner comes out of the shop with full hands of purchases?
Several people followed him like wolves after prey.
Li Qingyu turned from the crowded area into a dark tunnel. He took out a lighter, lit a cigarette, and, exhaling smoke, went deeper into the passage.
The pursuers saw only the glow of the cigarette – now flaring up, now dying down. Exchanging glances, they grabbed pipes and stones and rushed towards the light.
The thud echoed. All eyes were fixed on the smoldering glow.
They suddenly closed in, swung – and struck!
*Clang-bang!*
Metal clanged against metal in the darkness. Several attackers howled in pain – the recoil almost broke their arms.
One, grimacing, threw away the pipe and felt in front of him. His fingers encountered a cold metal wall.
He reached for the cigarette and realized: it was simply stuck in a crack in the wall.
The realization struck him, his face contorted. At that very moment, a sharp beam of light flashed from the side – blinding everyone.
Li Qingyu held the flashlight in his left hand, and the pistol in his right. The muzzle was pointed directly at them.
*Bang-bang-bang!!*