The battle was over. The rebels repelled the PDF attack and, despite losses, held their home.
The rebels dug graves, burying the fallen. The work turned out to be titanic – there were too many dead.
But the living had it much harder.
In the barracks, over thirty wounded moaned. Life was draining from them at an alarming rate.
Li Qingyu jumped into the cabin of a truck and yelled to Parson:
"Let's go to my place. I'll bring the medicine."
Parson nodded, but first ran to the three remaining rebel leaders. After a short consultation, they exchanged glances, nodding in agreement.
To Li Qingyu's surprise, Parson unloaded all the captured lasguns and batteries into the back of his truck, and only then sat down next to him.
Li Qingyu started the engine and, as they drove out of the camp, asked grimly:
"Do you even realize how much this weapon costs? And you're just giving it to me?"
"Sir," Parson replied, "we won't be able to use it anyway. But perhaps it will be useful to you."
The truck drove in silence. Then Li Qingyu said:
"If you ever have problems – come to me. I'll help."
Twenty-two units of laser weapons – a fortune. Only officers were issued such weapons in the PDF. Their value was immense.
If Li Qingyu could crack the genetic code, he could equip a whole squad.
According to the agreement, he hadn't personally killed those in the armored vehicle, but he remembered Parson's gesture.
The truck drove to the ventilation shaft. Li Qingyu told Parson to stay and guard the cargo, and he himself went out onto the concrete and activated the evacuation.
The timer counted down – and he found himself in the shelter. Grabbing his backpack, he headed to the medical warehouse, scooping up medicines by the handful.
He also took ten green injectors – "as payment for the lasguns."
Opening the door, he entered the workshop. The workers looked at him with surprise.
"The boss just went outside... how did he come out from inside again?"
Li Qingyu waved his hand and went to see what was new.
The sale of alcohol had brought profit. He gave all the money to Knife, telling him to hire people to expand the tunnels – and now, a crew was already mixing concrete and tying rebar.
Expanding in the Underhive is simple: go along the pipe, build a wall – and the section is yours.
Now they were building differently: thin partitions were erected, creating bedrooms, a kitchen, a toilet. Comfort would increase sharply.
The production area was divided into a warehouse, a fermentation shop, heating, and raw material storage. Several tanks were dug with a water reserve.
The expansion took about three hundred meters of tunnel. There was enough space now, they could even bring a cart inside.
Li Qingyu went to the head section and found Knife – he was helping to pour concrete.
Approaching, he ordered: "Leave two embrasures on each side wall. And an opening for a spotlight under the ceiling."
Knife, surprised by the boss's appearance, nodded: "Heard you, sir. We'll do it that way in both walls."
"Boss," the master clarified, "what size embrasures?"
Li Qingyu showed a rectangle with his hands – so it would be convenient to position the barrel and maintain the sector.
And he ordered the upper opening to be square, forty by forty centimeters. In the PDF camp, such spotlights had a beam up to six kilometers – an effective blinding effect in a narrow tunnel was guaranteed.
If the enemy dared to come here, they would simply be blinded by the light.
After giving instructions, Li Qingyu told Knife to prepare the cart, called Kai and his father, and drove to the surface.
Reaching the truck, they began to reload the weapons. The guys, looking at the mountain of arsenal, just exchanged glances.
"God-Emperor, where did he get all this? Did he rob the PDF arsenal?"
The five of them finished quickly. Li Qingyu ordered:
"Take it back. Let Little Joel disassemble and preserve everything. I gave him special lubricant – let him cover the barrels with it."
With these words, he got behind the wheel and, together with Parson, rushed back to the camp.
An hour later, the truck entered the territory. The moans of the wounded could be heard even on approach.
The adrenaline had worn off, and now the pain was tearing the people apart.
"Faster, medicine! Did you bring it?!" shouted the approaching militia commander.
Li Qingyu burst into the barracks, dumped his backpack on the floor. The rebels looked at the packages in confusion – they didn't understand what to do with them.
"Damn it! These – one tablet for each!" he barked, handing out painkillers.
First – relieve the pain so they wouldn't interfere with treatment.
He opened a medkit, took out hemostatic powder and bandages. Crude blood stoppage now – the "green needles" would fix the rest.
Li Qingyu stepped towards a severely wounded man, but the commander stopped him:
"This one's done for. Dead. Go to the next one."