In the steam-filled kitchen, the chef mixed various ingredients into starch, stirred them evenly, and then steamed them in a pot. After a while, he flipped the mixture out, creating a cake-like food.
When this food was cut into pieces and served on plates, the group couldn't help but feel a bit surprised, hesitating over whether they should eat it.
"It doesn't look too bad. I'll try it first," Guro said, cutting off a small piece and tasting it. It was a bit hot, so he instinctively blew on it.
"Hmm, it's actually not bad. Not as bad as I thought," he commented while chewing.
"If we go by the Federation food rating standards, it barely qualifies as T6-grade food." T6-grade food is defined as clean, hygienic, and capable of providing essential nutrients. Such food is usually found in emergency rations and isn't commonly sold on the market, as people generally prefer T5-grade food, which has better taste.
"See? I told you this is one of the few affordable yet decent restaurants in the city," the man they had just met said, placing his hat on the table and digging into the food without hesitation. He was used to life here and didn't have the same reservations.
After arriving at the restaurant, the group exchanged a few words before their meals arrived, temporarily halting their conversation.
Ruby used a knife and fork to carefully cut the white, mixed-ingredient cake, eating slowly while occasionally tucking her purple-red streaked hair behind her ear to avoid it touching the food.
In this isolated and impoverished region, a young and beautiful girl like her was a rare sight. Not only were young girls scarce, but even if there were any, the lack of proper care due to hard labor made them less attractive.
So, when she sat in the restaurant to eat, she naturally attracted a lot of attention. However, Ruby was used to this and didn't find it surprising.
"I think we should finish eating quickly. This isn't a good place to talk," the man in the red hat suggested, noticing the situation.
"I agree," the others replied, quickly finishing their meals before leaving the restaurant and heading to the rooftop of a nearby abandoned building.
"Now, can you tell us more?" Jinzerk leaned against the wall, looking up at the gray sky and the towering, rusted buildings in the distance.
"Sure, where should I start? Damn it," the man in the red hat rubbed his crumpled hat, thinking for a moment before speaking.
"Right, let's start with the two major gangs here."
"One is 'Black Hammer Heavy Industries,' and the other is 'Burning Iron Energy.' They're the two largest gangs in the area and control the most important sectors: metallurgy and energy."
He then went on to explain their origins.
As the North Star District declined, many companies gradually relocated. However, some weaker, asset-heavy companies couldn't afford to move and were stuck here. Most of them were in heavy industry and energy, as their assets consisted of massive industrial machinery and reinforced concrete buildings. Even if they tried to sell, no one wanted to buy in a declining region, so they were left with no choice but to stay.
To survive, they continued production, but as the population dwindled and the market shrank, the pressure grew.
Many large furnaces in heavy industry, such as those in chemical and metallurgical plants, required enormous resources to shut down and restart. If the materials inside weren't completely cleared out, they would solidify upon cooling, rendering the furnaces useless.
Factories couldn't shut down easily, as doing so would lead to even greater losses. But the market kept shrinking, and the security situation worsened.
Thus, the heavily staffed industrial conglomerates became some of the few remaining major powers in the area. They began fighting among themselves like starving beasts competing for the last scraps of food.
A massive conflict erupted.
As industrial conglomerates, producing simple steel armor wasn't difficult for them. While it was far inferior to military-grade equipment, their opponents were just civilians and makeshift militias.
Under the command of their leaders, armed workers destroyed and burned rival factories, crippling their opponents' lifelines so they could monopolize the remaining market.
After years of fighting, mergers, and acquisitions, only two conglomerates remained in Lebion. This was the limit of what the surrounding market could support.
However as the population in Northern 2nd District continued to decline, and with the migration of Thousand Towers City last year, the already limited market shrank further. Two industrial conglomerates were too many; only one was needed.
This thought occurred to both leaders simultaneously. Reports from their subordinates and market analyses all pointed to the same conclusion: it was time to determine the final victor.
"So, you're saying you want us to help you take down such a massive organization?" Jinzerk, whose family owned a large business, understood that these conglomerates were far from ordinary, undisciplined gangs.
The larger the heavy industry, the more stable its internal order, as production required it. Even a small mistake could lead to massive losses.
"Massive? No, no, this isn't the North Star District of centuries ago, where a single large company could have hundreds of thousands of employees. The two major gangs here have at most a few thousand people. Any more than that, and they wouldn't be able to sustain themselves, nor would they have any use for them," the man in the red hat shook his head.
"Alright, even if it's just a few thousand people, that's still a lot. Why are you so determined to destroy them? It's like splitting a watermelon just to take a few seeds and throwing away the rest," Guro shook his head.
"The rest? What are you talking about? I'm the Red Hat, not some high-and-mighty figure. How could I possibly control two major conglomerates?" The man sounded annoyed.
"Alright, let's not argue. Do you know about the military strength of these two gangs—or conglomerates? Also, what's in it for us? Honestly, after hearing your story, I'm already inclined to refuse," Jinzerk shrugged.
"In terms of military strength, Black Hammer has about 40 to 50 mechs, over 200 elite combatants, around 1,500 regular fighters scattered across the region, and some illegally modified autonomous units."
"Burning Iron has about 70 to 80 mechs, though theirs are lighter and less armored than Black Hammer's. They have about 150 elite combatants and around 1,200 regular fighters, also supported by modified autonomous units."
"The two sides are pretty evenly matched, which explains why they've maintained peace for so long," Jinzerk commented.
"Also, I'm curious. When you say 'mechs,' are you referring to the mainstream models on the market, or are they just crude versions they've modified and produced themselves?"
"They're definitely crude versions they made themselves. Mainstream mechs are way out of our league here."
"That's a relief. If you'd said they were mainstream models, I would've run for the hills," Guro pinched the bridge of his nose.
…
While Jinzerk and the others listened to the story about Lebion as if it were a tale, Thilan's group ran into some trouble.
"Hey, hey, hey! You there, kid! Yeah, you! Hand over the girl next to you!"
A burly man with yellowed teeth and a cheap cigarette in his mouth strode over, flanked by two lackeys. It seemed he was used to throwing his weight around in this area.
At the intersection of a rubble-strewn street, Alen had just spotted a gas station in the distance when the man's shout made him stop.
The three men whistled as Evony, wearing a white jacket with her golden ponytail, turned around. Their faces broke into foolish grins.
"Come here, sweetheart. That beanpole next to you can't satisfy you. Heh heh," the man said shamelessly, making obscene gestures.
"Hmm?" Evony felt disgusted but wasn't particularly shaken.
This kind of behavior was all too common in Northern 2nd District, and she had grown used to it during her time here. It was also why Dolores preferred to stay in the vehicle and avoid drawing attention.
"We don't have time for your nonsense," Evony shook her head dismissively and continued walking. The others ignored the man as well, heading toward the gas station.
"You!"
Furious at being ignored, the man tried to chase after them, but his knee suddenly gave out, causing him to fall face-first into the dirt. He spat and coughed, looking utterly pathetic.
Xelian, who was at the back of the group, glanced at him briefly before catching up with the others.
The two lackeys hurried to help their boss up, too busy to chase after the group.
As they approached the gas station, Thilan and the others sensed that this place was far from peaceful. The illegally modified vehicles parked at the station and the armed individuals coming and going made it clear that this was no ordinary neighborhood.
It made sense. In such a barren area, those who could afford to drive were likely not ordinary people. In the lawless Northern 2nd District, violence was a symbol of power, and only those with power could afford vehicles and gather around gas stations.
To avoid trouble, Thilan and Evony put on masks to obscure their faces before entering the gas station with their companions. Along the way, they saw many old, modified vehicles parked haphazardly, some equipped with machine gun mounts or bulletproof panels, and even a few with rocket launchers mounted on the back.
Before anyone could notice them, the group quickly made their way inside the gas station. The staff were telling crude jokes and making exaggerated gestures.
"...that Mary, she's really something, hahaha~"
Laughter echoed under the gas station's steel dome, accompanied by the sound of stomping feet.
Knock, knock, knock— Alen knocked on the open door and walked in, while the others waited outside.
"Hello, I heard we can buy fuel here. Our travel vehicle is running low," Alen greeted them, causing the laughter to die down.
"Oh, customers," one of the men waved to his companions and walked over.
"Tell me, how much do you need? My prices are great—1,000 Federation credits per liter."
"No need for that," Alen took out a pack of cigarettes they had confiscated earlier and tossed it to the man.
"I know the market rate. They told me," he said, having done some research this time instead of going in blind.
"Who's 'they'?" The man took the cigarettes, sniffed them, and, finding them satisfactory, pocketed them.
"Old John from Supply Station 87 and Auntie Elimei from Supply Station 35."
"Oh, so you were referred by them. Alright, for the sake of old friends, I'll give you 300 Federation credits per liter. That's as low as I can go," the man shook his head.
"Still not good enough. Take a look at this," Alen said, pulling out his personal terminal and playing a projection.
In the projection, a middle-aged man stood next to Alen, the background showing the interior of a supply station. The two raised their glasses and cheered, "To our friendship!"
"Uncle John told me Lebion has the fairest fuel prices. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come all this way."
"He looks as healthy as ever, haha. Alright, I admit I was a bit distrustful earlier, but 300 Federation credits is the lowest price I can offer publicly. Considering our brotherly friendship, I'll give you... 180 Federation credits. Really, I can't go any lower. Any lower, and I won't be able to do business. Others would complain, and it would disrupt the market."
"180 Federation credits per liter..." Alen sounded hesitant.
"What type of fuel?"
"What else? Only Type 26. It's the easiest to produce and sell in Northern 2nd District. Come with me, I'll show you," the man said, grabbing a keycard from the table and walking out of the room.
Thud, thud.
Just as the two stepped out of the room, they heard two heavy thuds. Under the gas station's steel dome, two men were knocked to the ground, while the third looked shocked and scared, unsure whether to advance or retreat. Evony stood with one hand on her hip, flicking her golden ponytail, while the other hand brushed dust off her pants.
"Did these three come back to cause trouble?" Alen asked.
"Yep, so I had to teach them a lesson," Evony replied. If they weren't at a gas station, she would have used her fire abilities.
"You'll regret this..." The three men spat out meaningless threats before scrambling to their feet and running off.
"Those guys..." The gas station employee hesitated but ultimately shook his head and said nothing.
The next step was to check the fuel quality and complete the transaction.
After some haggling, they bought over 600 liters of fuel for 100,000 Federation credits. The gas station employee even threw in two 'Lianyin 112' carbines.
"Trust me, you'll need these on the road," the employee said, helpfully offering a bullet package—200 rounds for just 1,000 Federation credits.
"This..." Alen was still hesitating, but Xelian decisively accepted.
"Let's take ten boxes," Xelian said. Having firepower was always good, and besides, N had mentioned that they might not be able to use their own guns soon.
Once the deal was settled, the group was about to call Simu and the others to bring the vehicle over when a group of people in red and black jackets arrived in cars, surrounding the gas station. A man in a white suit and sunglasses stepped out, exuding arrogance, a specially treated cigarette dangling from his lips as he surveyed the scene.
"Where's that blonde girl you mentioned? If you didn't find her, you know the consequences, right?"
Behind him, the man who had harassed Evony earlier followed, his face bruised and swollen. In his hand was a personal terminal displaying a photo he had secretly taken earlier, showing Evony's profile, her golden hair and face glowing in the sunlight.
The other people gathered at the gas station quickly backed away, clearly aware of who these newcomers were and not wanting to get involved.
"It's Maziza, the second son of 'Burning Iron Energy.' What's he doing here?"
"This isn't going to end well."
"That blonde girl really is stunning. I was thinking of approaching her earlier, but now I don't need to bother. Once Maziza gets his hands on her, she'll be ruined in a few days."
"She's inside the gas station. I heard they came to buy fuel," the bruised man said obsequiously, seemingly unaware of how repulsive his appearance was.
"Alright, you don't need to follow me anymore," Maziza waved him off, then kicked open the gas station's door. Behind him, a group of red-and-black-jacketed armed men rushed in.
Entering the gas station's room, Maziza finally saw the golden-haired ponytailed beauty from the photo. She and her companions were now surrounded by the armed men in red and black jackets. Seeing this, he quickened his pace but slowed down as he got closer.
Removing his sunglasses, he stroked his bearded chin and struck what he thought was a graceful pose, bowing slightly.
"Good evening, beautiful lady. I am the man who could become your husband. Would you care to join me for dinner and enjoy the night view?"
With a snap of his fingers, the armed men raised their guns and fired three shots into the air, creating a loud, celebratory noise that echoed throughout the gas station.