Wasteland Border Inspector - Chapter 771

Chapter 771: Chapter 256: Yongxing Community, Hou Genbao! (Part 2)

Even the B9 Zone where Yongxing is located is to be carved up and handed over to Celestial Essence to manage!

As expected, on the afternoon the announcement came out, Poison Hand Dragon brought several hundred Celestial Essence militiamen and surrounded them, throwing out two choices: either the entire Yongxing moves out, or they have to hand over thirty percent of the community’s profits to Celestial Essence.

But Hou Genbao knew perfectly well that with this meager profit, once you deducted the warehouse rent and the community’s daily operating expenses, then guaranteed everyone’s basic living, there was already almost nothing left. Where were they supposed to squeeze out another thirty percent for Celestial Essence?

The two sides fell into a stalemate, neither willing to back down, and the atmosphere was visibly getting more tense by the day.

Maybe in just a few days, fierce friction would break out between Yongxing and Celestial Essence.

Everyone in Yongxing Community had a gun, so they weren’t exactly afraid of “Poison Hand Dragon” acting rashly, but Celestial Essence ultimately held the nominal high ground of jurisdiction. Not to mention anything else, if Celestial Essence simply demanded that Yongxing clear out the extra eight hundred square meters of construction site they occupied, that alone would be a fatal killing move for Yongxing, which relied on that area to make a living.

“Good afternoon, Uncle Hou!”

“Uncle Hou, my batch is almost done.”

“Uncle Hou, this month’s electricity bill has been delivered. I hung it in your workshop.”

“Uncle Hou, the Water Ghost hauled up another batch of goods, all radios. I opened them up, no obvious damage. I bought them at twenty percent of price, you take a look at the condition.”

“Uncle Hou…”

Inside the work area built with plastic sheeting and simple steel frames, it was as bustling as a marketplace.

There were a full three to four hundred people from Yongxing Community buried in refurbishing old goods. The stalls were laid out row after row, not unlike the layout of a vegetable market.

Recently a lot of newcomers had flooded into the Buffer Zone, and demand for second-hand appliances and tools was especially strong, which had, for once, given Yongxing’s business a bit of a boost.

From time to time he’d stop, quietly checking on the workers’ progress and offering a few precise pointers.

Sometimes he’d nod slightly, showing an approving expression to those who were doing well.

In Yongxing, Hou Genbao was the sky.

The one thousand five hundred people up and down all depended on him to eat, and only he could hold the place together and keep in line those who wanted to reach out and skim off a little.

As he neared the end of the stalls, two middle-aged men hurried up, standing respectfully in front of Hou Genbao:

“Uncle Hou, Zhuangwa has already confessed, and we’ve also found the circuit boards he stole.”

“Oh?” Hou Genbao’s eyelids trembled slightly as he calmly asked, “What did he do with the money from selling the boards?”

“He said it was to treat his seriously ill old father, but he got swindled by people in the shantytown. What they sold him was all fake medicine. After his dad took it, he was gone.”

“Oh.” Hou Genbao let out a dull sound, fished a dead twig out of his pocket and clamped it between his teeth. After a moment of silence he said, “Let’s go see him. That kid’s got a hard life too.”

The three of them wove through the busy stalls and exited from the other side into the electronics market.

At this time of day, most people were at work; the electronics market wouldn’t see customer traffic until after six in the evening.

They stepped into the warehouse, and the conditions inside were much better than back in the Celestial Essence Community.

The silver bunk beds were arranged in perfect order, with no sign of patchwork. The bedding on each bed looked half-new, half-old, clean and tidy. The air was relatively fresh, with three high-powered fans spinning tirelessly, exchanging the air between the inside and outside of the warehouse.

The three of them twisted and turned through the warehouse, finally stopping outside a tin-walled room that had been partitioned off.

The two middle-aged men quickly stepped forward and pulled the door open.

Hou Genbao bent slightly and ducked inside. In his calm, bottomless eyes was reflected a clear image of a thin young man tied to a pillar.

The youth was covered in wounds, especially a few bloody gashes across his abdomen where the flesh was turned out, clearly the work of a whip.

His head hung weakly, but when he heard the familiar footsteps he still forced himself to lift it, squeezing out a wan smile. “Uncle Hou…”

“Mm.” Hou Genbao answered through his nose and sat down on the stool in front of the pillar.

He sized Zhuangwa up and down a few times, his tone revealing no joy or anger: “Your dad was seriously ill. The community would naturally supply him medicine and treatment. Why did you have to go steal circuit boards? That was you being smart in the dumbest way.”

“The community medicine, each person only gets so much. It was never going to cure my dad! If we waited until he was completely hopeless and got abandoned, then I stole something, that really would’ve been too late…” Zhuangwa pulled at the corner of his mouth, his voice hoarse, every word like it was squeezed out between his teeth, carrying a despair beyond words.

He drew a deep breath, and his gaze suddenly turned vicious. “My dad’s gone, I’ve got nothing to live for anyway! Celestial Essence has been pressing us this hard lately, I’ll find a way to take out Poison Hand Dragon. Without their leader, maybe they’ll…”​

Smack!

A crisp, loud slap cracked across Zhuangwa’s face. The force of it snapped his head back into the pillar behind him, making a dull thud.

“What the hell do you think you are, daring to call him ‘Poison Hand Dragon’?”

Hou Genbao pulled a crumpled rag from his pocket and slowly wiped the hand he’d just used to hit, his tone icy. “You dare call him that today, does that mean tomorrow people get to call me Black Heart Marquis?”

“Yes! It’s my fault!” Zhuangwa was dazed from the blow, his ears ringing, but he still hurriedly nodded and admitted his mistake. “It was my filthy mouth. That’s Ping Dalong, Uncle Ping!”

Hou Genbao’s gaze eased slightly, but it still carried an unquestionable authority: “Zhuangwa, tell me, what are Yongxing’s rules?”

“Yongxing’s three rules…”

Zhuangwa froze for a moment, as if all strength had been drawn out of him. His eyes went dull as he spoke, his voice growing quieter but each word clear: “First rule, the public comes first, the clan is greater. In all matters, the community’s foundation and the neighbors’ livelihood come before anything else.”