Even if Old Man Sen somehow acquired starships and tried selling his cheap agricultural goods to neighboring forge or industrial worlds, success would be little more than a miracle.
If ten ships departed, returning eight would already be fortunate.
If they encountered a daemon fleet, xenos raiders, mutant corsairs, void pirates, or even corrupt Imperial patrols seeking "inspection fees," then none of the ten would ever return.
Brewing BeginsOnce the grain had been loaded onto the carts, Li Qinwu bid farewell to Old Man Sen and departed with the convoy toward the ventilation shafts.
Along the way, he had Xiao Dao guide the drivers around areas he judged dangerous. After half a day of travel, they finally arrived.
The men waiting near the shaft entrance had long since grown bored and were playing cards on the ground. The moment they saw Li Qinwu return, they hurried to their feet.
"Unload everything," Li Qinwu ordered. "Move the grain from the wagons onto our train. We're heading back."
After giving instructions, he went to the underground maintenance station to fetch the Silent One and brought him to the train.
Seeing everyone laboring with sacks, the Silent One eagerly raised a hand.
He intended to use telekinetic gravity manipulation to move the entire load at once.
Li Qinwu stopped him instantly.
"No!"
He lowered his voice.
"Do not reveal that you're a psyker. That will get me killed."
Then he pointed a finger sternly.
"When you live in my house, do not decorate the walls with Warp art. Do not play with corpses. Do not broadcast mysterious voices from beyond reality."
He paused.
"And if you ever feel inspired to do something incredible—tell me first."
In the Imperium, psykers were both priceless and terrifying.
Those with psychic gifts often possessed extraordinary ability, but also catastrophic potential. One curious thought, one reckless experiment, one uncontrolled breach into the Warp—and an entire hive could drown in daemons.
That was why the Imperium hunted unsanctioned psykers relentlessly.
Those judged stable were trained and shackled into service.
Those deemed unstable were fed into the Golden Throne as fuel for the Astronomican.
If this agricultural world had hidden Imperial agents, Black Ships, or Ecclesiarchy informants, exposure would be disastrous.
The Silent One drooped immediately.
"If I can't use psychic power, then what do I do? I am weak, pitiful, helpless... what if someone hurts my body and soul?"
Li Qinwu's expression twitched.
He dearly wanted to hurt both right now.
"That's not what I said," he replied patiently. "I said don't use it stupidly. Use it carefully. Quietly. Intelligently."
The Silent One blinked blankly.
"So... how?"
Li Qinwu bent down, picked up a rusty screw from the ground, and held it between two fingers.
"Your favorite tricks are gravity control and psychic shockwaves. Effective, yes—but flashy."
He flicked the screw upward.
"Instead, accelerate this to bullet speed and punch it through someone's skull."
The Silent One's eyes widened.
Li Qinwu continued.
"Subtle. Efficient. Harder to trace."
"Master!" the Silent One cried. "Any other secret arts?"
Li Qinwu smirked.
"Yes."
"If someone has kidney stones, use gravity to drag them back and forth through the urethra."
The Silent One froze.
Li Qinwu nodded gravely.
"Unimaginable suffering."
Given the poison-filled food and contaminated water of this world, kidney stones were likely common enough.
The Silent One stared at him in reverence.
A new world of possibilities had opened.
Li Qinwu patted him on the shoulder.
"Go reflect."
By then, the grain had been fully loaded.
Li Qinwu boarded the train with the Silent One and prepared to return.
Several rebels nearby glanced repeatedly at the ventilation shaft, clearly wondering whether it might serve as a direct route into the lower hive.
Li Qinwu noticed and laughed.
"I know what you're thinking."
He spread his hands.
"Feel free to try. There's work in the bottom hive."
Then he smiled coldly.
"Once you're there, you may never leave."
In truth, he doubted the rebels lacked access shafts of their own. The reason they did not invade the lower hive was simple.
The bottom hive was worse than the surface warzone.
Mutant warlords.
Industrial toxins.
Gang armies more vicious than PDF troops.
Even rebels had standards.
The return trip was smooth. The small train rattled through the tunnels and finally rolled into Li Qinwu's brewery.
At last, production began.
He first sent Xiao Dao and several men to Renault's Water Purification Guild. They were to return the memory panel, purchase brewing materials such as yeast and enzymes, and bring Little Joel's family to the brewery.
Then Li Qinwu turned to the potatoes.
He hired over thirty of Xiao Dao's followers at ten credits a day to peel them.
Three tons of potatoes were skinned, washed, and boiled until soft. They were mashed into pulp with wooden tampers, then mixed with water into a thick slurry.
Enzymes were added to convert starch into fermentable sugars.
After that came stirring, heating, filtering, and finally transferring the mash into sealed barrels fitted for one-way gas release.
Now came fermentation.
Five to six days later, after distillation, he expected roughly twelve hundred to fifteen hundred liters of forty-five percent liquor.
Li Qinwu had already researched the market.
In the capital and military sectors, alcohol was usually sold in miniature bottles of roughly one hundred milliliters—enough for one heavy drinking session. Under normal conditions, each sold for around five credits.
But now corpse-starch shortages and economic decline had made alcohol scarce.
Prices had risen several times over.
That meant he controlled negotiations.
Even at conservative rates, this first batch could earn him at least fifty thousand credits.
The Workshop FlourishesOnce brewing had started, Li Qinwu no longer needed thirty extra laborers.
He paid them all and dismissed them.
The men left smiling, clutching more fertilizer scrip than they had earned in years, loudly declaring they would gladly return whenever Boss Li called.
After they were gone, Li Qinwu counted what remained of his funds and felt a stab of pain.
Once, he had possessed a grand fortune of one hundred and ten thousand.
Now, after equipment purchases, wages, supplies, and setup costs...
Only twenty thousand remained.
This batch of alcohol needed at least five days to mature.
Li Qinwu refused to sit idle while his cash reserves dwindled.
So he prepared to go make money again.
First, he organized everything inside the hideout, then gathered his core people.
Xiao Dao.
The Silent One.
Little Joel.
Little Joel's parents.
Little Joel's teenage brother.
Men, women, disabled, able-bodied—an oddly complete household.
Li Qinwu found it deeply satisfying.
He coughed theatrically.
"I'm heading out on business. You lot guard the place and watch the fermentation barrels."
He looked around sharply.
"And don't think that means doing nothing."
His gaze fell on Little Joel.
"Your spine may be damaged, but you can still shoot from a chair, yes? You haven't forgotten your military training?"
Little Joel nodded from his wheelchair.
"I haven't forgotten. I can still fire."
Li Qinwu handed him one rebel-made automatic rifle, then gave another to Joel's father.
"Mr. Big Joel," Li Qinwu said evenly, "you've seen what the bottom hive is like."
"You're still in your prime. I need you combat-ready as soon as possible."
Big Joel bowed respectfully.
"Sir, thank you for sheltering my family. I will become a useful soldier."
His grip on the weapon was tight, his eyes full of gratitude.
Good attitude.
Li Qinwu then turned to Joel's mother, Sansa.
He took out a letter and handed it to her.
"This is a reply from your daughter."
"She is serving as a novice at the cathedral and appears safe. You needn't worry."
Emotion overwhelmed her at once.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Sir... thank you. Thank you so much."
"If you wish to write back, do so. If I travel to the middle hive, I'll deliver it."
She bowed repeatedly.
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
Li Qinwu looked her over.
Delicate build. Not suited for combat.
"Of course."
"When the workshop expands, many people will be here."
"You'll handle cooking."
Then he turned to Xiao Dao.
"Besides learning firearms from Little Joel, you're responsible for outside procurement."
"Pots. Bedding. Tables. Toiletries. Chairs. Whatever we need."
Without warning, Li Qinwu slapped five thousand credits' worth of fertilizer scrip into Xiao Dao's hands.
"Use it when needed."
"Do not be stingy."
"I want this workshop fully operational as fast as possible."
Xiao Dao trembled as he stared at the fortune in his palms.