Since the distillery had already started production, so many workers were no longer needed. Li Qingyu paid them and dismissed the entire gang – over thirty men brought by Xiao Dao.
Having received fertilizer coupons, which would normally have taken several years to earn, the brothers happily smiled and left Li Qingyu's base, assuring him that if Boss Li ever needed anything, they were always ready to help.
Having dispersed the crowd, Li Qingyu checked his balance and felt a pang in his frog-like heart.
Not long ago, his capital was a respectable one hundred and ten thousand, but after a wave of investments, equipment purchases, and hiring staff, only twenty remained from that mountain!
The first batch of alcohol would not be ready for at least five more days. Looking at his rapidly dwindling treasury, Li Qingyu couldn't resist and decided to earn some money on an outing.
He fine-tuned all the production processes in the shelter, and then summoned his closest subordinates.
Xiao Dao, Silent, Little Joel, his parents, and his ten-year-old brother – this was his team. Women, children, old people, and cripples. Li Qingyu ironically assessed this fighting force, but was generally pleased.
"Ahem-ahem."
He cleared his throat dramatically, surveyed the squad, and said:
"I'm going out on business now. Your task is to watch the house and especially the fermentation vats. And also – don't fool around. Everyone should be busy with something, not sitting around gossiping and catching flies."
He turned to Little Joel.
"Even though your spine is broken, you can still shoot while sitting in a wheelchair. Have you forgotten your combat skills?"
Little Joel nodded confidently:
"Not forgotten. I'm still a marksman."
Li Qingyu took out two rebel-made assault rifles: he placed one in Little Joel's hands, the second – in his father's.
"Mr. Big Joel, I think you already understand what it's like to live in the Underhive. You are a strong man, so I ask you to learn to fight as soon as possible. Can you handle it?"
Big Joel bowed respectfully:
"Sir, thank you for sheltering my family. I will do everything to become a worthy fighter."
He gripped the assault rifle with both hands. Gratitude and determination shone in his eyes. Li Qingyu would have no problems with this man.
Then he turned to Joel's mother – a woman named Sansa.
He took out a letter and handed it to her:
"This is a reply from your daughter. She is now serving as a nun in the Ecclesiarchy cathedral and is undergoing training. You don't have to worry about her safety. If you want to send a letter, write it – I'll deliver it when I get to the Middle Hive."
Mrs. Sansa's eyes welled up with tears.
"Sir, thank you! I will work my hardest to repay your kindness! What should I do?"
The fragile, exhausted woman evoked sympathy in Li Qingyu. There was no point in turning her into a Valkyrie, so he waved his hand:
"In the future, when there are more people in the workshop, you will be in charge of the kitchen."
Finally, he looked at Xiao Dao.
"Xiao Dao, you will not only learn to shoot from Little Joel, but also look for all sorts of junk. Pots, pans, soap, tables, chairs, bedding – it's all your responsibility."
With these words, Li Qingyu took out a pack of coupons – five thousand – and slapped the young man's hand.
"This is for expenses. Don't be stingy. I need the workshop to operate at full capacity as soon as possible. You are responsible for the rear and comfort."
Xiao Dao froze, trembling all over, as if struck by electricity.
"Boss... Boss!"
He was on the verge of tears. A simple bandit from the Underhive, and here – money and trust! Five thousand coupons could provide a carefree drinking spree for the rest of his life... if it were a long one.
Li Qingyu had no doubt – this money was a test. If the young man ran away, it would be a cheap lesson in loyalty; if he stayed and did everything, he would have a chance to become a reliable ally.
He slapped Xiao Dao on the shoulder:
"And also – figure out how to collect empty 100-milliliter bottles. Bring them, we'll disinfect them and put them back into circulation. When we establish production volumes, I'll start selling the product."
Xiao Dao nodded like a rooster pecking grain.
"Boss, no problem! I'll find so many bottles, we won't know what to do with them!"
Lastly, Li Qingyu looked at Silent. He, as usual, was lost in his own world. Li snapped his fingers in front of his face and pulled him aside.
"Most of all, I'm worried about you. I don't want to come back and see that the distillery has grown tentacles, and a couple of demons are guzzling my wine, snacking on my people. Understand?"
Silent's gaze darted around.
"Okay, okay, I'll be a good boy."
Li Qingyu pointed to his eyes and then to him:
"Keep in mind, I'm an old-fashioned person, with nerves like a third-millennium inhabitant. So no ninety-nine percent Warp nonsense! I'm serious!"
"Oh, alright! I promise not to misbehave, happy?"
Silent grumbled this, turning away irritably.
Li Qingyu understood that arguing was useless. He slapped the young man on the shoulder, returned to the room, collected the sniper rifle, put on his third-class helmet and armor, replenished his supply of medicines, painkillers, stimulants, and surgical kits – and went to find a place to practice shooting.
When the massive door of the distillery closed, and Li Qingyu disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel, Silent's thoughts, who had just sworn to behave, came alive.
He looked at the shelter door, contemplating if there was anything interesting there.
Ensuring that everyone else was busy, he silently crept up to the gate and concentrated, preparing to use his psychic powers to break the lock...