"Old Kai! Little Kai! Come here!" Li Qingyu shouted into the echoing darkness of the tunnel, not taking the cigarette out of his mouth.
Soon, two mountains of muscle appeared – father and son, both built like bodybuilders from the golden era.
Li took two light machine guns from a hidden stash and handed them over.
"With your size, rifles look like toys. Take proper tools. These have more power."
The giants beamed, accepting the heavy weapons.
An arsenal upgrade meant one thing: Li trusted them completely. They were now the backbone of the gang, the elite.
Li treated them to some smoking material.
"Did you start the new batch? How's the load?"
Old Kai nodded:
"Boss, everything is fermenting. There are many people now, it's easier to work. Plenty of free time."
"If there's plenty of time," Li grinned, "take the rookies and give them basic training. And then go to Joel, help with the drills."
The Kais exchanged glances, predatory smiles spreading across their faces.
"Will be done, boss!"
Once, they themselves were rookies, and Xiao Dao had given them a harsh introduction to the realities of the underhive. Now it was their turn to torment the newcomers. The cycle of hazing in nature.
As they left, they were already discussing their entertainment plan:
"Dad, let's take them to the steam pipes? Cannibals cook rats there, the newbies will shit themselves…"
A few days later. Underhive sewage treatment plant.
Li Qingyu drove the car to the gates and honked. The leaves opened, and a familiar face of Rod, the guard, poked out of the gap. He waved his hand.
"You're early," Rod grumbled when Li got out of the car. "Tech-priest Anthony is obsessed with timings. No earlier, no later."
Li took a can of preserves, flatbread with herbs, and a bottle of moonshine from his bag.
"Well, since we have time, maybe we can have a snack?"
"Fuck…" Rod's eyes bulged at the sight of such delicacies. "Are you… serious?"
Five minutes later, oil was sizzling in the guard booth. A can of stew was heating on a spirit stove.
Li put a piece of meat on the flatbread, added herbs, rolled it up, and took a bite with relish.
Rod followed suit. Fat dripped down his chin, the guard rolled his eyes with pleasure.
"Damn, you're something else, wanderer!" he mumbled. "You eat better than ninety-nine percent of the residents of the middle hive!"
"What, is it really that bad in the middle hive? Everyone on synthetic?" Li asked.
"Yeah," Rod nodded. "Corpse starch and recycled organic matter. Tastes like cardboard, and you can't shit for weeks afterward. Good thing the Black Market is working, sometimes you can get real food there."
He dipped the flatbread in the boiling fat and put it in his mouth.
"Black Market? What about the law enforcers?"
Rod snorted:
"The law enforcers are covering it. The bosses are in on it. My brother serves in the arbiters, he's a squad commander. On the surface, they're tough, they respect the law, but in reality, if you bribe someone, everything is smooth. Get it?"
He rubbed his thumb and index finger together and winked.
Li remembered this information. A useful contact.
"Li Qingyu," he extended his hand. "Head of a small gang."
"Rod," the guard shook his hand. "Shift supervisor of the purification plant security."
Rod glanced at his watch.
"Time to go. Come on, or Anthony will put you on the blacklist for being late."
He gave Li a gas mask and led him deeper into the complex, to a metal bunker with a Mechanicus gear on the door.
"Wait here, I'll report."
Rod disappeared inside, then peeked out and waved:
"Come in. And remember: speak directly, without beating around the bush."
Inside the bunker, a figure in a red robe was tinkering with some kind of apparatus.
Hearing footsteps, the Tech-priest turned around:
"The lubricant provided by you has shown high efficiency. The Machine Spirit is satisfied. Mechanism efficiency has increased by twenty-one percent, failure rate has decreased by fifty-six percent. Combined with sacred incense, the result is optimal."
"I have value," Li said. "You provide value. Exchange."
"Production volumes? Manufacturing technology?" Anthony rasped.
"Volumes are limited. Technology is a trade secret. Means of production are priceless, not for sale."
Anthony froze. His electronic eye blinked red.
"Edible oils have low energy density. Heat dissipation is suboptimal. It is not ideal fuel. Lubricating properties are limited, heat resistance is low. Modification is required to increase value."
He extended a mechanical claw:
"Hand over the means of production to me. I will optimize the technology. Your profit will increase."
Li crossed his arms:
"Means of production have no price. Tech-priest Anthony is low-level service personnel. Your value is limited. Refusal to discuss technology transfer."
A trill of binary curses erupted from Anthony's vox-speaker. Emotional inhibitors struggled to contain his rage.
"Review of cooperation protocol. You supply me with Substance-101. Prohibition on selling Substance-101 to other Mechanicus adepts."
"Ah, so he called my oil Substance-101," Li thought.
"Tech-priest Anthony must ensure stable demand and purchase the entire volume of Substance-101. If you cannot pay, the surplus will go to other priests."
Li extended his hand:
"To deepen cooperation, Anthony must prove his usefulness."
The Tech-priest clasped his hands, froze for a couple of seconds, processing the request.
"In exchange for Substance-101, I offer technical maintenance, spare parts, special equipment, training in machine logic and rituals for appeasing spirits."
Li shook his head:
"The key need is not met."
He came for electricity. Everything else was secondary.
Anthony was silent.
"Energy is a sacred resource. Connection is complex. Compliance with Lex Imperialis is required. You must prove the existence of industrial production to legally obtain energy."
"What do I need to do?"
"Obtain a license for steel or chemical production, ore processing, or hazardous waste disposal. Only then is legal access to the power grid possible."
In short, he needed a factory. Li Qingyu swore mentally. He was a moonshiner, where would he get a chemical plant?
Anthony scanned his facial expressions, calculated the drop in the probability of a deal, and hastily added:
"Expropriation. The fastest way to meet the connection requirements."
"You're suggesting I seize a factory from another gang?" Li asked in surprise. "Is that legal?"
The priest's mechanical fingers tapped against each other.
"The Underhive is a zone outside of jurisdiction. The owner of the means of production does not matter. Only one thing matters – the continuity of the process."