Carrying a bottle of wine, Li Qinwu arrived at the Imperial Shrine.
The sacred wine had already finished brewing. The candles placed before the Emperor's icon had burned out, leaving only faint trails of wax and the lingering scent of incense in the stagnant air.
He retrieved the second bottle of holy wine and stored it carefully, then added another batch of materials to resume production.
In the Imperium, ritual and function were inseparable. Whether this shrine truly held divine significance or was merely another automated relic of forgotten technology did not matter—faith and utility often walked hand in hand.
After finishing, Li Qinwu changed into a clean set of clothes, secured the large-caliber pistol at his waist, and packed all the Holy Communion items before heading out.
His plan was simple: check on Joel's family at the Stillwater Guild, then head up to Zhongchao.
---
The safe zone looked exactly the same.
Bottom-nest scavengers moved about like carrion feeders—searching, trading, watching. Their eyes were sharp, calculating, always weighing risk and gain.
Nothing had changed.
Even after the massacre Li Qinwu caused, there was no lesson learned—because in the underhive, survival did not reward memory. It rewarded instinct.
He ignored them and walked straight toward the Water Purification Guild.
A long queue stretched outside as usual. Clean water—one of the only two stable resources in the lower hive—was worth more than dignity.
Li Qinwu bypassed the line and approached the entrance.
The guards immediately reacted, hands moving toward their weapons—but then paused.
"…Didn't you die?"
They recognized him.
Li Qinwu stepped forward calmly, took out cigarettes, and lit them for both men.
"I didn't die. I fought my way out."
A blatant lie—but a practical one.
In the grim darkness of the far future, truth was flexible. Survival wasn't.
The guards exchanged glances. Suspicion lingered, but they let him pass.
---
Inside the shop, Li Qinwu quickly spotted Joel's family.
They were working.
Filling containers. Carrying water. Repackaging supply units.
Efficient. Quiet. Already integrated.
Joel's father nearly collided with him while carrying buckets. When he looked up and recognized Li Qinwu, he froze.
"You… you're alive?"
Li Qinwu exhaled smoke casually.
"I took another route out."
Without hesitation, the man dropped everything and knelt.
"My benefactor! You saved our entire family—"
Li Qinwu frowned slightly and cut him off before the scene escalated further.
"Enough."
Joel's mother, Joel himself in the wheelchair, and his younger brother gathered quickly, all expressing gratitude.
Joel even tried to bow despite his condition. Li Qinwu stopped him immediately.
"Your company commander paid for this. If you want to thank someone, thank him."
The words were blunt—but intentional. He wasn't building loyalty through sentiment. He was maintaining clarity of obligation.
Then he got straight to the point.
"How did you end up working here? Renault arranged it?"
Joel shook his head.
"We mentioned your name. Lord Renault allowed us to stay."
"It was my father's decision to work. We couldn't accept protection without giving something in return."
Li Qinwu nodded slightly.
Good mindset.
Even in the underhive, discipline like that increased survival probability.
---
A door deeper inside the shop opened.
Renault stepped out, visibly surprised—but quickly composed.
He gestured.
Li Qinwu told Joel's family to wait and entered the office.
After the door closed, he spoke first.
"I got the memory panel. It's secured in Zhongchao. I'll retrieve it later."
Renault didn't question him.
Instead, he pulled out a stack of fertilizer coupons and placed them on the table.
"100,000. As agreed."
No hesitation. No bargaining.
Li Qinwu accepted it.
Renault's trust wasn't based on naivety—it was calculation.
A man who could "die" and appear again the next day was either extremely valuable… or extremely dangerous.
Either way, worth investing in.
---
After concluding the transaction, Li Qinwu brought up Joel's family.
Renault listened, then shook his head.
"I can't shelter them long-term. Guild regulations won't allow it."
"If they want to survive, they need work. That's how the underhive functions."
Li Qinwu already understood that.
But understanding didn't mean acceptance.
Throwing them into gangs meant predictable outcomes—death, exploitation, or worse.
So he began thinking.
Not emotionally.
Strategically.
---
A faction.
Small. Controlled. Functional.
His hideout already produced supplies. He had weapons, resources, and mobility.
The only missing element—structure.
Then the answer came to him.
Territory didn't need to be conventional.
In the underhive, space existed everywhere—pipes, maintenance corridors, abandoned infrastructure.
A sealed pipe network could become a base.
Controlled entry points. Limited exposure. Defensible.
Scalable.
The idea formed rapidly.
Now only one problem remained:
Work.
Idle people became liabilities.
---
"What sells in Zhongchao?" Li Qinwu asked.
Renault thought for a moment.
"Alcohol."
"Everything else is limited. But alcohol? There's always demand."
Then he explained the situation:
War had cut off external supply lines
Grain was rationed under planetary decree
Official production was restricted
Which meant one thing:
Smuggling.
"If you can secure raw materials, you can dominate a market segment," Renault concluded.
Li Qinwu's eyes sharpened.
This aligned perfectly.
His system already produced alcohol
The military had terrible discipline
Demand was guaranteed
Distribution could go through Lieutenant Rudolph.
Even better—this could solve the soldier problem.
Employ their families.
Share profits.
Create dependency.
Stability through controlled economy.
---
The idea expanded rapidly in his mind.
From brewing… to trade…
From trade… to influence…
From influence… to control.
He stood up immediately.
"Mr. Renault, I'll retrieve the memory panel from Zhongchao now."
"Joel's family stays here for the moment."
Renault smiled.
"If you need technical help with brewing, I can assist."
Li Qinwu nodded—but internally dismissed it.
---
Before leaving, he spoke briefly with Joel's family.
Joel made a request.
"Please deliver a letter to my sister… she's working at the State Church."
Li Qinwu accepted.
The Ecclesiarchy—another major power structure.
Worth investigating.
---
He collected writing materials, took the letter, and left the guild.
By the time he reached the elevator area, another descent cycle was about to begin.
The rats were already gathering.
Waiting.
Hungry.
Unchanged.
Li Qinwu ignored them and stepped into the secured waiting zone.
Gene scan confirmed his Zhongchao identity.
Safe.
For now.
A moment later, with the grinding roar of ancient machinery, the massive elevator arrived.
---