Chapter 77: …Did the Commander Not Receive the Urgent Dispatch?
Ling Jing had originally intended to venture out into the wild tonight, hoping to pick up a few beast and plant cores along the way.
These uninvited guests had upended her original plans, but oddly enough… by sheer accident, they had brought precisely what she needed right to her doorstep.
“That can be arranged.”
Yves turned to Keith and gave a terse command: “Pen, paper.”
Keith presented them with brisk efficiency.
Ling Jing watched as Yves took the pen, scribbling across the sheet with swift, practiced strokes.
A moment later, a list was sliding across the table toward her.
Ling Jing ran her eyes over it.
The page cleanly specified the exact daily quantities desired for each dish.
“This is a daily order?”
“Yes,” Yves replied. “…Can it be done?”
Ling Jing set the list down. She said neither yes nor no.
Looking up, she stated evenly, “Commander, you’ve seen the scale of the Chinese Restaurant as it stands. This is a commercial establishment open to the public; I can hardly funnel all my inventory to you and leave ordinary customers with bare shelves when they walk through the door, can I? That would damage my restaurant’s reputation and sour the mood of my other patrons.”
Ling Jing had no intention of prioritizing his order above all else simply because the man sitting across from her represented the ruling authority.
“What does Boss Ling propose, then?” Yves naturally grasped the subtext beneath her words.
—The deal was on the table, but terms had to be met.
“I can accept your order, but it cannot interfere with standard daily operations.”
Ling Jing continued, “You represent the Seed City administration, so you presumably aren’t constrained by the curfew on the city gates. After regular business hours close, I can keep the doors open for an additional hour just for you. Between 6:30 and 7:30 in the evening, we can complete the trade and hand over the provisions. And I won’t even charge you the after-hours double rate. How does that sound?”
“Agreed. Boss Ling is truly decisive.” Yves raised no objections.
“You see, your single order demands a vast variety in massive quantities, which in turn extends our operating hours. My staff has to work overtime, cutting into our personal rest outside of work. It demands substantial time and labor, yet I’m offering it without a markup. Consider this the Chinese Restaurant’s sincerity in making this partnership work.”
Seeing Yves agree so readily, Ling Jing skillfully guided the conversation along the path she wanted.
Every step was measured, logical, and entirely reasonable.
Acknowledging the favor, Yves took the cue and played along: “Of course, our gratitude to Boss Ling. As the other party in this transaction, we must demonstrate our sincerity as well. What do you require of us?”
“Quite simple. Three conditions.”
Seeing him yield ground, Ling Jing cut straight to the chase.
“First: the administration will assist in promoting the Chinese Restaurant within the city walls. The larger the clientele grows, the more the shop can expand, and the more abundant our food supply will become. Surely that aligns with what the Commander wishes to see?”
“Agreed. We, too, wish for the people of Seed City to have their fill,” Yves nodded.
“Second: absolutely no reselling. Your order covers massive quantities across multiple categories; as a merchant, the last thing I want to see is someone poaching my own clientele.”
Ling Jing gave a polite smile. “Should this term be breached, I’m afraid our standing agreement will be terminated on the spot.”
“Understood. On that front, you have our absolute guarantee.” Yves’s expression turned stern.
“Third.”
Ling Jing looked squarely into his eyes. “I require all official intelligence and known coordinates regarding mutated flora and fauna surrounding Seed City.”
Yves paused, caught off guard. “…May I ask why?”
The Chinese Restaurant possessed the baffling ability to thoroughly purify corrupted biomass into edible food, though he had no inkling of how it was achieved.
Ling Jing replied flatly, “To find them.”
Yves: “…”
Boss Ling had answered, yet said virtually nothing at all.
“…Very well.”
Ling Jing added, “And these records must be kept completely up to date with the administration’s latest reconnaissance.”
She wanted the most recent data.
Yves weighed the demand for a brief moment before finally nodding his assent.
He rose to his feet, extending a gloved hand. “A pleasure doing business with you, Boss Ling.”
Ling Jing shook his hand. “A pleasure doing business with you, Commander.”
…
“Keith, take full inventory of every beast core and plant core in our possession.”
Back within the city walls, Yves strode forward with purposeful, wind-whipped steps, making straight for the clock tower.
“Yes, Commander.”
Keith acknowledged the order, then lowered his voice to inquire, “Do you intend to pay the Chinese Restaurant with beast and plant cores? The last directive from the Three Great Cities increasing our quota included an addendum stating that beast and plant cores could be used to offset the levy for standard crystals.”
Hearing that, Yves maintained his rapid pace, his brow furrowing into tight knots.
“The crystalline residue produced by mutants of C-rank and above carries contamination far too potent to serve as an energy source for Awakeners. Worse, it accelerates the gestation of higher-tier mutant strains. That directive from the Three Great Cities was suspicious from the start. What in the hell… are they actually doing up there?”
“You mean to withhold them entirely?”
“They were never meant to be turned over. The other frontier cities might get away with it, but given Seed City’s modest garrison and scale, surrendering them would only invite suspicion from central command.”
Yves cast Keith a sharp, warning glance.
Keith instantly understood his superior’s unspoken meaning.
It would expose the fact that Seed City was harboring Awakeners.
“Is it safe to hand them over to the Chinese Restaurant, then?”
“I don’t know; we can only gamble,” Yves admitted, watching the clock tower loom ever closer through the dark.
Their grasp of this mysterious establishment was still far too shallow.
“Yet I have an instinct,” he murmured. “This is a wager we are unlikely to lose.”
Having visited the Chinese Restaurant and met its “proprietor” face-to-face, Yves found her origins more elusive than ever.
Yet he had appraised countless individuals throughout his career, and his instincts rarely failed him.
That Boss Ling carried herself far too much like a consummate merchant.
And a merchant did not smash their own stall to pieces.
For now, Seed City was her marketplace.
“Go tally the cores, and have Mo Zeya report to my office.” Yves glanced up at the clock face towering above. “We deploy for the Black Fields Quarantine Sector in one hour.”
“Yes, sir.”
It was already 9:10 PM; Yves calculated the tight window in his head.
Back in the office, he had to coordinate tomorrow’s public campaign for the Chinese Restaurant with Mo Zeya.
The restaurant was located outside the walls, after all; if large crowds began migrating in that direction, would the garrison need to provide armed escorts along the route?
He also needed to confer with Nelson regarding the experimental trials run on those new rations.
Followed by a strategic council.
The advent of the Chinese Restaurant would inevitably trigger seismic shifts across Seed City.
The most immediate impact would hit their food supply lines.
If the populace no longer relied on official ration bricks, Seed City could scale back its deliveries of iron black wheat.
The Black Fields Quarantine Sector would require a complete restructuring.
How much manpower would be needed under the new layout? How potent were the restaurant’s dishes in treating injured overseers and conscripts?
If the common folk stopped redeeming their coins at the city plaza, the administration would have to source the required tribute of crystals through other means. The current garrison formations would have to be restructured—and along what lines?
The crisis at the South Wall was escalating by the second; with tactical food buffs bolstering their lines, how much could they turn the tide?
Did the situation warrant mobilizing the two covert Awakener syndicates right now…?
His mind a tempest of logistical equations, Yves took long strides into the clock tower.
Tonight was destined to be another sleepless vigil.
As he crossed the threshold, he cast a fleeting glance back at the monolithic, dark stone structure.
Its soaring spire was swallowed by the ink of the night, leaving only a faint, jagged silhouette against the sky.
Yves pulled his gaze away and pressed forward.
Seed City was on the cusp of an unprecedented upheaval.
The South Wall of Seed City.
Bang—!
A sharp gunshot cracked beyond the ramparts.
A barbed, spiny monstrosity clinging to the stone masonry let out a wretched screech, plunging straight into the abyss below.
Before the shooter could reposition, a glob of thick, viscous sludge erupted from the blackened base of the wall, splashing heavily against the exterior of his protective gear.
Sssss—
The fabric hissed violently as corrosive smoke curled into the air.
The sentry instantly raised his rifle, squeezing off two rapid shots toward the source of the discharge. Bang! Bang!
Croaaak—!
A grotesque, piercing shriek ripped from the base of the wall.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump—
Faint, rapid tremors rattled the stone—feverish and terrifyingly swift.
A chill gripped the sentry’s heart. Shrugging off the sizzling sludge eating through his hazard gear, he shouted an urgent alert to the rest of the squad entrenched along the parapet.
“Third wave incoming! Lock and load! Sector Six breach! Units Two, Five, Nine, and Twelve, laying down suppressive fire! Seven, Eleven, Six, and Eighteen, swap to cold-fire! The rest of you, reinforce positions and raise shields!”
Along the southern rim, a row of heavy riot shields slammed down in unison, angling steeply over the edge.
Mori reloaded her magazine with silent, fluid speed, leveling her barrel at the horrors bounding up the sheer stone face.
Click. Clack. Click.
The synchronized snaps of fresh magazines locking into receivers rippled down the line.
“Captain, Unit Two down to thirteen rounds!”
“Unit Nine down to twenty-eight!”
“Unit Twelve’s hazard suit breached, officer wounded!”
Mori barked without a second’s hesitation: “Twelve, grapple-line off the wall and hold the fallback point! Two swaps with Three! Ten, split your reserves with Nine, move!”
As a sprawling tide of bioluminescent green mutant frogs swarmed into her field of view, Mori gritted her teeth until they creaked.
How long had it been since night fell? Two comrades down with corrosive burns already.
The night stretched long and merciless; heaven only knew what butcher’s bill they would pay to hold the line until dawn.
…Had the Commander not received her urgent dispatch?
