socalfunplaces Chapter 2 Fuel is Food
Chapter 2 Fuel is Food
Lowe flipped through the files quickly.
found it.
Biomass fuel production in District 7 has been unusually high over the past three months.
Combustion efficiency has been improved by 40%.
Luo Wei's heart sank.
Straw cannot be burned to such a high calorific value.
Unless something else is mixed in.
For example, the 270,000 tons of wheat that were "lost".
Case and his men did not transport the grain out to sell.
With frequent subspace storms, it's difficult for smuggling ships to enter.
They burned the stolen grain as fuel.
No, it wasn't burned.
Lowe examined the data further.
Export records from the fuel plant show that these "high-energy fuels" were transported to the black market at the bottom of the hive.
They disguised the wheat as scrap metal, transported it out of the granary, and sold it to low-level gangs.
This is more discreet and safer than selling grain directly.
Luo Wei closed the file.
The chain of evidence is now complete.
However, he cannot use this to report it.
Before the whistleblower's letter even reaches the governor, he will be killed by Case.
Besides, who knows if there are any of Case's men in the Governor's mansion?
The newly appointed female governor, Alicia van Valentius.
Rumor has it that she was only twenty years old and had just received the scepter from her deceased father.
The entire Executive Yuan was waiting to see her make a fool of herself.
Loewe can't count on her.
He has to solve it himself.
He picked up a pen and began filling out a new form.
He did not fill in the actual data.
He filled in "three percent" in the "loss" column.
Then, he added a zero to the "Maintenance Expenses" column.
Then, he added another zero to the "Repair of Sacred Defense Facilities" column.
He spread the missing 270,000 tons of grain across thousands of small, unverifiable projects:
"Materials required for the soul-comforting ceremony of harvester No. 734: 500 tons."
"Repair of seepage prevention coating for irrigation canals in the eastern district: 8,000 tons."
"Transportation cost of incense and candles used in the prayer ceremony to the emperor: 12,000 tons."
Luo Wei's hands were very steady.
He's falsifying accounts.
However, his falsified accounts were a million times more sophisticated than Case's.
Case's falsified accounts were simply "missing".
Lowe's false accounts were "reasonable expenses".
In this religiously fanatical empire, no one dared to investigate exactly how many consumables were used in the "Mech Soul Appeasement Ritual".
That would be disrespectful to Om Messiah, the god of all machines.
No tax officials would dig up the irrigation canals to verify how many layers of paint were laid underneath.
Two hours later.
Luo Wei put down his pen.
The accounts are balanced.
Numerically speaking, the Seventh Grain Depot not only did not incur a deficit, but also laid the foundation for increased production next year due to "significant investment in infrastructure maintenance".
This is a perfect report.
But this is not enough.
This was just a temporary solution.
Case will be happy to see this report because Rowe has cleaned up his mess.
Then Case will kill him.
Because Rowe demonstrated this ability, it means that Rowe knew the details.
Only the dead can keep secrets.
Lowe needs a talisman.
He pulled a small knife from his pocket.
This is what he uses to sharpen his pencils.
He picked up the perfect report and gently scraped it a few times with the tip of a knife in the most inconspicuous spot at the bottom of the page.
The paper is fuzzy.
It looks like a defect that was originally in the paper.
However, if you look at it against the light, you will see that the fuzzy fibers form a tiny line of High Gothic code.
Only those trained in cryptography can understand it:
"Fuel is food."
After doing all this, Luo Wei felt a little emotional.
As a seasoned Warhammer fan, before my transmigration, I had diligently studied the vocabulary and grammar of High Gothic, combining it with Latin, and now it's finally coming in handy.
Then he stood up.
His legs were numb.
Carrying a thick ledger, I walked towards the manager's office at the end of the hall.
……
The office door was ajar.
The sounds of chewing food and women's laughter could be heard from inside.
Lo Wei knocked on the door.
"Come in," Case's voice was muffled.
Luo Wei pushed open the door and entered.
Case was sitting behind a large mahogany table, with a scantily clad maid in his arms.
There was roasted meat and red wine on the table.
On this planet, these things are far, far, far more valuable than human life...
Without looking to the side, Luo Wei walked to the table and handed over the account book with both hands.
"Sir, the accounting is complete."
Case pushed the maid aside and grabbed the ledger with his greasy hands.
He flipped through the pages very quickly, only looking at the final result.
"A surplus...40,000 tons?" Case narrowed his eyes. "And the losses?"
"Three percent, my lord."
Upon hearing this, Case looked up, a hint of murderous intent flashing in his eyes.
"Three percent? What about the remaining nine percent? Did you conjure it up?"
"From pages fourteen to forty, sir," Lowe replied calmly.
"I categorize them as 'necessary religious ritual expenditures' and 'preventive maintenance of infrastructure'."
"These projects do not require physical inventory; all that is needed is the priest's prayer records and the construction team's signature."
Case was stunned.
He turned to page fourteen.
The entries are densely packed, yet there's nothing wrong with them.
"Compensation for the machine soul..." Case muttered to himself.
He looked up and examined the thin clerk for the first time with seriousness.
"You're very clever, Rowe." There was no praise in Case's voice, only wariness. "You've patched up the hole."
"I'm just trying to survive, sir." Lowe lowered his head. "If the tax officials find anything wrong, I'll die too. I don't want to die."
This statement dispelled half of Case's doubts.
People who are afraid of death are the easiest to control.
"How did you get the construction team's signature?" Case asked.
"I imitated their handwriting," Rowe lied.
He didn't imitate at all; he used fading ink, so his signature would become blurry by tomorrow, looking like an old, long-forgotten debt.
Case closed the ledger, a sinister smile spreading across his face.
"Very good. Excellent."
Case stood up, walked over to Rowe, and patted him on the shoulder.
Lowe could smell the nauseating stench of alcohol on him.
"You've done me a great favor, Lowe. The tax collector will be pleased. The governor will be pleased too."
"It is my honor, sir."
"You can go back now," Case waved his hand. "Go collect two extra pieces of corpse starch. It's a reward for you."
"Thank you, sir."
Luo Wei performed a hawk salute, then turned and left the office.
The moment the door closed, Lo Wei heard laughter coming from inside.
"This kid's a genius, haha! From now on, we'll dump all these messy accounts on him!"
Luo Wei stood in the corridor, expressionless.
He knew he was safe for the time being.
Case wouldn't kill a goose that lays golden eggs, at least not before he'd squeezed all the value out of it.
And the contingency plan he left behind:
The line of code scraped out with the tip of a knife is the real killer move.
The report will be submitted to the tax officer tomorrow. After reviewing it, the tax officer will file a copy and send it to the Governor's Office.
If the female governor was indeed, as rumored, a descendant of wandering merchants, well-educated, and meticulous, then she would certainly be able to decipher this code.
This is the bait that Rowe threw out.
He's gambling.
The new female governor is unwilling to be a puppet.
I bet she's looking for a sharp knife that can pierce through layers of darkness.