On the second day, Li Qingyu's distillery finally produced its first batch of product. Fermentation was complete, and it was time for distillation.
Li Qingyu, along with a few strong guys, moved the fermented mash, loading it into a crudely welded steel distillation cube. This giant tank held over a ton of raw material at once, so all the stock could be distilled in just a few runs.
Work was buzzing around: pipes were being connected, power was being hooked up. Finally, the distiller hummed.
All that remained was to wait for the condensation effect to work and for the alcohol to flow from the outlet.
While waiting for the first run, Li Qingyu watched little Joel. He sat in a wheelchair, and using a knife, peeled potatoes for dinner.
Li Qingyu could literally feel the anxiety emanating from the guy. Joel was the only cripple in their group and was terribly afraid of becoming useless, of being abandoned, although such an option was not even considered.
Rummaging in his pants pocket, Li Qingyu took out a green syringe. In his free time, he had crafted this stimulator at the medical station. In the game, the item was called "green stuff" or "blood vacuum pump."
The mechanics were simple: if a player was wounded, they injected the syringe, and the damaged limb regenerated at insane speed. Usually, "green stuff" was used before combat – you could shoot and recover at the same time. Killing such a character was almost impossible.
Li Qingyu pondered – could this thing heal Joel's spine?
His own body was digitized, he knew that for sure. Medicines acted on him the same way as in the game – with incredible effectiveness.
But on other people, game items often turned into ordinary medications.
So, would the green stuff work? He didn't know.
"Ah, to hell with it," he thought. "It's worth a try."
Li Qingyu approached Joel. The latter immediately dropped the knife and, sitting in his chair, gave a salute.
"Commander!"
Li Qingyu waved his hand:
"Roll up your sleeve."
Little Joel didn't understand what was happening, but he obediently followed the order.
Li Qingyu removed the cap from the syringe, revealing the needle.
Intercepting Joel's arm, he inserted the needle into a vein and pushed the plunger all the way, injecting the entire contents into his blood.
The guy didn't resist, only watched the commander's actions with curiosity and calmness.
After finishing the procedure, Li Qingyu said:
"Stop working. Go to your room, lie down. Monitor the sensations in your back. If you feel anything unusual – report it to me immediately."
Joel's breathing hitched. It seemed he was starting to guess.
"Yes, Commander!" he exclaimed, saluted again, and rolled his wheelchair into his cubicle, partitioned by panels, to await a miracle.
Li Qingyu returned to the distiller. Liquid was already pouring from the tap. Estimating that almost a bucket of heads had accumulated, he ordered:
"Enough, change the container."
During distillation, heads and tails must be cut off. The first portions of alcohol contain a lot of harmful impurities and fusel oils – this is visible by their yellowish tint.
The essence of the process is to remove poisons and leave only the pure, aromatic heart of the drink.
Usually, heads are not spared, and Li Qingyu cut off about three percent of the volume. Tails are removed when the stream's strength drops and the drops become larger. At this point, the fire is extinguished.
The team worked excellently. After distilling all the potato mash, they obtained:
1400 liters of pure alcohol with an alcohol content of about forty-five degrees, fifteen liters of a mixture of heads and tails, and a huge vat of spent mash.
"Collect the pomace, dilute it with water, and distill it again!" Li Qingyu ordered. "Mix the resulting distillate with the waste."
The men obeyed. After a second distillation, another hundred liters of low-proof swill came out, which was poured into the same container as the poisonous heads.
This was undrinkable – the concentration of toxins was off the charts. It was guaranteed to hit the liver and kidneys, and you could turn yellow for the rest of your days.
But this was the Lower Hive – a place where no one knew if they would live to see tomorrow.
Li Qingyu decided to give this poison to Xiaodao so he could sell it to the most degenerate rats of the Underhive. Whatever they gave – it was better than pouring it out.
And if someone died from the swill – they would thank him for helping them leave this pathetic world in a drunken stupor.
When the work was finished, several days had passed. The people inhaled the thick aroma of alcohol that hung in the air and looked with reverence at the rows of containers holding 1400 liters of product.
This was not just alcohol. It was pure wealth – and all thanks to their boss.
All eyes turned to Li Qingyu. Xiaodao asked excitedly:
"Boss, are we going to bottle and sell it?"
Li Qingyu thoughtfully rubbed his chin:
"Wait."
He ran to the shelter, brought a bottle of Holy Wine, and was about to pour it all into the common vat.
But he remembered the monstrous power of this drink in time. If he sold such a thing to the outside world, he could attract the attention of very dangerous organizations.
After thinking, he added just one capful of Holy Wine to a barrel of three to four hundred liters. Stirring everything with a long ladle, he scooped some up and tasted it.
The taste hardly changed, but he caught a faint aura of holiness – it flashed and disappeared.
He scooped another spoonful and handed it to Xiaodao:
"Try it. How does it feel?"
Xiaodao drank, and his eyes widened.
"Delicious! Wow... it's like my soul was washed clean!"
"Now drink some more," Li Qingyu offered.
Xiaodao obediently took another sip.
This time, he smacked his lips, sensing something was up.
"It's still delicious, but the delight I felt the first time isn't there anymore."
Li Qingyu nodded. This was exactly what he was aiming for.
The first sip was astonishing because the holy effect instantly burned away the Warp corruption accumulated in the bodies of the Lower Hive inhabitants. The cleansed soul gave a feeling of euphoria.
Moreover, the Holy Wine restored vigor. Ordinary alcohol knocks you down, but this one only makes you more energetic – a paradox, indeed.
However, due to the thousand-fold dilution, the effect disappeared within seconds. This guaranteed that no one would suspect anything was wrong.
But people would remember the first feeling of purity and delight forever – and return for more.
Warp corruption seeps from everywhere; it is omnipresent. A sip of diluted holy swill resets the contamination counter, but soon the protection disappears, and darkness settles on the soul again.
Customers would get hooked on the feeling of purification. They would return, bringing Li Qingyu an endless stream of money.
Perhaps in ten years, he would amass a fortune sufficient to buy a personal dreadnought!