Li Qingyu gathered his gang, returned through the ventilation shafts to the military truck hidden in the bushes, and drove towards the rebel camp.
The whole team was in full battle gear: armor, weapons. Li clearly remembered the skirmish with Arum – one of the rebel leaders, and suspected that he dreamed of killing him.
So, security was needed for intimidation. And also, to take his wards from the underhive for a walk. They had been stuck in the dungeons for too long, and might go wild.
Li Qingyu's driving style could be described in one word – "reckless." He ignored roads, drove straight through fields and ravines, pressing the gas pedal to the floor. The fighters in the back were tossed around so much they were almost turned inside out.
But there was no choice. Li feared ambushes in the tall grass and mines on the asphalt, so he preferred an unpredictable trajectory at high speed.
Fortunately, his mad drift to the very border of the camp went without incident.
The rebel sentries, hiding in the forest, had long noticed the truck. But even before leaving, Li ordered Xiao Dao, who was sitting in the passenger seat, to stick a stick with a dirty rag tied to it out the window.
Seeing this improvised flag, the rebels understood – it was their own. They didn't shoot.
Several sentries lazily emerged from the thicket and escorted the vehicle inside the perimeter.
The camp was once again bustling with life. Although the battle with Lieutenant Winchester had decimated the rebel ranks, the unification of eight scattered camps into one had paid off – there were even more people than before.
Upon learning of Li Qingyu's arrival, the gang leaders immediately gathered to meet him.
Li noted with surprise that the other leaders tacitly recognized Parson's primacy. It seemed he was aiming to be the supreme leader of this rabble.
However, it was logical. Parson was closest to Li Qingyu, and the others understood: if you want development and resources from Li, befriend Parson. So his rise was a matter of time.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Li got down to business: he needed another ten tons of grain.
Parson was ready. He opened the granary, and his men began loading sacks of potatoes into the truck's cargo hold.
"What will we pay with this time?" Li asked. "Guns? Medicine?"
"Mister, can you organize some steel for us?" Parson asked. "We have plenty of weapons after the defeat of the Public Safety Service, and enough medicine for now. But metal for forging agricultural tools is in short supply."
Li Qingyu smirked mentally. There was plenty of that stuff in the underhive. Scrap metal was lying around everywhere, and if not, you could always twist off some rails.
"Send people to the ventilation shaft in three days," he nodded. "I'll organize scrap collection down there."
Parson showered him with thanks. Li opened the system panel and chuckled with satisfaction: Parson's relationship score had jumped to thirty-two.
But grain and steel were not the only purpose of the visit. Li planned to launch a new batch of moonshine, and for that, he needed labor.
"Parson, I need reliable people," he said. "Is there anyone who would agree to go down to the underhive with me? Work at the distillery, plus perimeter security. We'll have to shoot if the gangs come."
Parson thought for a second.
"Mister, I'll call out to my comrades. We'll see who wants to."
Soon he returned with three volunteers. Li recognized them immediately – they were the severely wounded men whom he had literally pulled back from the brink of death with his barbaric treatment last time.
The trio looked at Li with undisguised adoration. One of them stepped forward:
"Mister, you saved my life. I would have bled to death if not for you. Now you need fighters? Consider my life yours!"
All three swore allegiance. Li Qingyu was pleased.
Saving a life is a powerful motivator. These people followed him voluntarily, which meant there was no need to expect betrayal.
His little empire was growing. Now he had three sources of recruits: Parson's men, the families of wounded Public Safety Service soldiers, and the local rabble from the underhive.
The main thing was to maintain a balance between these groups so they wouldn't get too chummy and start a rebellion.
"Do you have families?" Li asked the recruits.
They nodded. Li led them to the truck, took out three packs of canned meat, and handed one to each.
"This is your signing bonus. Take it to your families, let them eat meat. Next time I come here for grain, I'll take you with me – you can visit your homes."
Li loved recruiting married men. They had something to lose, they were disciplined and morally stable. Ideal material for an army.
The soldiers beamed, showered him with thanks, and ran home with the precious cans. The other rebels watched them with envious glances.
Li Qingyu smiled with satisfaction. This was exactly what he was aiming for: to build a reputation. "If you go to Li, you'll be fed." This would simplify future recruitment.
The system beeped: after recruiting three fighters, Parson's relationship score dropped by thirty points.
"It's okay," Li thought. "We'll raise the rating now, and then we'll take someone else."
While the grain was being loaded, Li sat down for a smoke with the rebel leaders.
One of the leaders spat on the ground:
"Arum, the bastard, still doesn't want to join us. He acts all independent."
"Yeah," another chimed in. "When the Public Safety Service was crushing us, that scoundrel was saving his strength. He lost almost no one, the scumbag!"
The third also exploded:
"I invited him to unite! And he told me: 'Only if you choose me as the leader.' He's completely lost his mind!"
Li listened to the stream of curses and smelled gunpowder. It was heading towards an internal conflict.
Arum's ambitions were understandable. Eight gangs were bled dry, losing ninety percent of their fighters. And he sat in the bushes, saved his men, and even got weapons from the battlefield.
The situation was simple: eight weak against one strong.
Arum saw a chance to subjugate everyone and become the leader of nine clans. His power would increase tenfold. It was like Lieutenant Rudolson becoming a battalion commander – the temptation was too great.
The rebels looked worried.
Li Qingyu smirked and blew out a cloud of smoke:
"If Arum decides to mess with you and pins you down – send a messenger. I'll come and beat the shit out of him."