The entire Kai family returned to the distillery. Knife knocked on the heavy iron door of the sanctuary, and Li Qingyu, drenched in sweat and throwing on a light jacket, came out to meet them.
He cast a quick glance at the four guests. They immediately straightened up, tensing their muscles, and their attitude became noticeably more respectful.
The head of the Kai family bowed his head: "Sir, thank you for giving us shelter and a roof over our heads in this harsh Underhive."
"From this moment on, any orders you give us are law."
Li Qingyu chuckled. "As expected, no one cancels scripted scenes," he thought. "As soon as the mandatory dialogue is over, these guys instantly transform from arrogant Schwarzeneggers into obedient Dwayne Johnsons."
He looked at two sturdy men – father and son Kai:
"You two, healthy moose. Take your weapons and fight for me. Can you handle it?"
Both nodded in unison. They had already gone through all the "charms" of life in the Underhive and were now ready to fulfill Li Qingyu's every whim.
Besides, as is customary, whoever has the gun is king. Getting a weapon meant gaining capital for survival and a new status.
After the survival school in the junkyard, the family vaguely but clearly understood: firearms here are not just tools for killing, but a social elevator.
Li Qingyu beckoned to Little Joel and pointed at the recruits:
"Drill them according to the PDF regulations. Emphasize discipline."
"Once you've sorted out their obedience, issue the guns. Let them shoot five hundred rounds each in training."
Discipline meant drill: parade stance, perfect bed making, and other barracks joys. Even in the grim Warhammer 40k era, the art of folding blankets into an envelope hadn't disappeared. Imperial Guard and PDF regiments across the galaxy sacredly honored this tradition – the cheapest way to break civilian willfulness and forge a soldier's character.
Little Joel was a gentle person by nature, and appointing him commander over two powerful men seemed like a not-so-good idea, but Li Qingyu had his own calculations.
He wanted to see if these behemoths would dare disobey the orders of the soft-hearted Joel.
If Joel complained about disobedience, Li Qingyu would throw out the entire family. It was a classic loyalty test.
Having dealt with the men, Li Qingyu turned to the matriarch:
"Madam Kai, you, along with Madam Sansa and Madam Dao, will take care of the household: cooking, cleaning, and helping in the distillery."
The woman nodded, accepting the assignment.
Li Qingyu's gaze shifted to the eldest son in the wheelchair.
"You're going into the same group. Do what you can. For example, peel potatoes."
"And remember the final warning: there's a dry law in my distillery. If I see you touching a bottle, you'll be kicked out head over heels!"
"Your drunkenness has already ruined you and put the family in a bind. I won't let you put me in a bind too. Not a drop of alcohol. Understood?"
Elder Kai lowered his head in shame, covering his face with his hands, sobbing. He seemed genuinely repentant.
But Li Qingyu knew the breed of alcoholics: tears today, and tomorrow it'll be "a drink for health" again.
He looked at the others:
"Watch him. If he drinks, report it to me immediately."
"This man has already destroyed one home. If he doesn't stop, he'll destroy ours too!"
"If you try to cover for him, it means you don't care about our safety!"
Having finished his instructions, he turned to Knife:
"As soon as we sell the shipment, all the money is yours. Call back the old workers. We're expanding the pipeline. This time, we're laying in ten tons of potatoes."
"And keep in mind: make this guy's room far from the production area."
"From now on, the base will be clearly zoned: residential sector, fermentation workshop, warehouse, and ripening chamber."
Li Qingyu believed that forcing an alcoholic to quit drinking while living inside a distillery was torture. Physical isolation was needed.
Reynolds was just laying the water pipes – the moment for replanning was ideal. Let the drunkard sit in the residential zone and not venture into the workshop.
Elder Kai, red-faced with shame, his family's faces a spectrum of emotions. After distributing the tasks, Li Qingyu returned to training, and the newcomers began to settle into the collective.
Father and younger son Kai stood at attention under Joel's supervision for three hours without moving. Little Joel, with the meticulousness of a maniac, checked the folds on their blankets, exhausting both of them to death.
Joel himself was afraid of harsh words and was a peaceful man. His command over two "tigers" looked like a farce: a sheep herding wolves.
Younger Kai had tried to rebel against the stupid PDF drill several times, but his father harshly suppressed these outbursts:
"Do you want Mom and brother to be kicked out? Go ahead, rebel. But then we'll all just die somewhere in a ditch."
These words cooled the son down, and now both of them unhesitatingly carried out any, even absurd, commands from Joel.
One day, as Li Qingyu was doing exercises in the shelter, the radio came alive: Lieutenant Rudolsson reported that Lieutenant Winchester was preparing to move out. He was urgently summoned to the camp!
Li Qingyu kicked the door open, rushed out with a sniper rifle on his shoulder and an autogun in his hand, roaring:
"Quick! Load the goods onto the railcar! We're moving out!"
The shipment was ready and packed in advance – Li was waiting for the right moment.
Everyone sprang into action, moving crates. Even Knife's mother helped.
After an injection of a green stimulant, her illness receded, and her body reverted to the state of a fifty-year-old woman.
Li Qingyu had often told her not to overexert herself, but as soon as there was work, she hurried to help.
The inhabitants of the Underhive didn't fear hard labor – only uselessness. The main thing for them was not to become street rats again.
Having loaded the railcar together, they headed for the surface.
Lieutenant Rudolsson was already waiting at the ventilation exit in his vehicle, nervously glancing around.
After transferring the crates, they sped towards the PDF camp.
On the way, Rudolsson asked:
"Are you ready? Headquarters reported: Winchester and his retinue have filed a request for a raid. The Colonel is stalling for now, but they'll definitely move out tomorrow morning!"
Li Qingyu grinned:
"Winchester isn't in the company? Excellent. I have a few crates of special brew – a mix of first-class liquor and fusel oil. We'll feed this to his soldiers – and tomorrow they'll be lying drunk as logs, like degenerates!"