Chapter 134 - 134 117 Processing Factory

134: Chapter 117: Processing Factory 134: Chapter 117: Processing Factory West Entrance County is not large, but with such a large population, naturally, there are corresponding industries and job opportunities. The Sheng Lai Fish-processing factory in West Entrance is the largest and most prosperous industrial park. It and its dozens of downstream industrial chain units, using the advantages of being close to the river and human resources, include canned fish production, salted fish curing, fresh fish processing, and etc. Out of the entire population of West Entrance, three hundred thousand people, at least thirty thousand people’s lives logistics could be linked to it, it can be considered a pillar of the county. However, after the disaster broke out, this massive factory that could supply tens of thousands of people fell to the enemy due to its proximity to the river. But unlike what most people expected, it did not stop working immediately, but instead became even busier… “Click Click.” The conveyor belts inside the factory are still slowly running, the mechanical rumbling of processing only briefly paused. The next morning, the factory resumed work, but what’s hanging on the conveyor belts isn’t what it used to be. The “meat” hanging there is mostly silent, only a very few tenacious life forms are able to let out inarticulate moans. “…..Save me…..” “End my suffering…” Human beings are being sent directly into the modified machinery without even being “skinned”, and finally become the ingredients for “military rations”. Soldiers, with their nearly two-meter-tall stature, saw-toothed teeth, and robust digestive system, they don’t complain about the scraps of cloth in the cans. Maybe many people understand the Exotic Races simply as hostile tribes, but the “Shark Fishman” is a super Divine Right society with a complete social system, their understanding of most weak tribes always hovers between food and slaves. On the other side of the factory, a large number of vehicles and machines have been dragged over, the just completed production line modification Shark Fishman technicians, are trying to modify them into usable war machines. This time the gate is too narrow and the restrictions are quite high, only the physical body of the tribe can pass through, in many areas, the people without the arms support of the tribe are calling for help. The Fishmen of the Silver Shell Tribe were shocked to find that their first wave of attacks were actually sniped in all aspects, some areas even saw the presence of powerful “Divine Chosen”. Even though, there are multiple reasons, without curse technique support, without war machines, without accompanying large sea creatures, they are not a reason for the Silver Shell Tribe, which has already conquered an entire sea area and is unbeaten in battle, to stop expanding. They are both calling for support from the direction of the gate, and also preparing for long-term warfare. “….Strange creatures and technology, their machinery is actually afraid of water, their ‘circuit’ that they use as a nucleus is actually water-fearing….” “Unlike us, their world is built above the water’s surface, without ubiquitous underwater currents, they can only rely on their own fins for movement, making our warriors uncomfortable, they waste more than half of their energy before they go into battle…..” “…Perhaps, instead of war machines, what we need more is to prepare transportation tools for them. What do you think, these so-called ‘Motorcycles’ by the flesh can serve as a basis for transformation…” Those noises that sound strange in the air, become precise human language underwater. In order to adapt to the use of local tools, the Priest of the tribe uses curse techniques that allow these technicians to master the local language and script.. But their language and vocal organs are originally vibrations in the water, once they leave the water they can’t communicate with each other. Now, a group of technicians who are at least two meters tall can only bend down, bury their heads in the flood, can only communicate with each other, it’s quite uncomfortable. But their work overnight and half a day has yielded some results. In the middle of the open ground, there are countless machines stacked together to form a giant “Stingray” that is at least ten stories high, is their answer. “….It’s too crude, I hope the Priest won’t feed us to the fish…” “Click Click, So, I suggest dispatching a group of flying warriors to retrieve the metal sheets (ships) floating in the south, so we have more materials…” The materials are too scarce, even with the help of Abnormal Ability and curse techniques, they can only put together a War Beast. They fear the wrath of the Priests who hold power in the tribe and are now privately using their connections, trying to bring in more “materials”. And yet, the higher-ranking priests had even more important matters to attend to. Deep within the factory, in what was originally a cold storage room repurposed as a storeroom, it was now bursting at the seams. Only that the original “products” were thrown outside to be eaten by bigger and smaller fish. What was filling up the room now were the most tender and top-notch “human meat”. And the slaves, who were good for nothing other than their strength, were throwing basketfuls of black pearls onto the piles of meat. “Be gentle, be gentle, these are premium goods. If you break even one, I’ll turn you into irrational beast-slaves!” The slaves quickened their pace but became even more careful because they knew the priests’ roar was not an empty threat. Within their caste system, the only thing lower than these soldier-class slaves who failed are the beast slaves who were initially abandoned, now they were a plethora of cannon fodders overwhelming the entire city. These domestic slaves could grow to over one meter seventy or eighty, while these poorly nourished beasts neglected by the deities, could only reach one meter forty or fifty and they were weak. Finally, when the “meat” in the warehouse was covered with “black pearls,” the slaves began to splash on a red viscous liquid. “…Our deity, six-mouthed, three-hearted, eight-clawed master….” The priest raised the twisted rod symbolizing divine right, and light blue patterns spread from it. The black pearls covered above began to wriggle. “Creak.” When the first “little fish” burrowed out, its first target was not the “reserve grain” underneath, but the nearest wriggling pearl. Little fish ate each other, the priests and slaves turned a blind eye, or perhaps, this was the norm in the Shark Fishman society. “… Sixteen thousand eggs, this warehouse can produce a hundred good seedlings, if we could get ten mutants, depending on whether the human meat material is enough to support…” Killing each other, eating and evolving, was the normal life of Shark Fishmen. What the priests were doing was merely speeding up the hatching process that would normally take three to six months. Next, with the help of divine magic, the expected two weeks of survival competition would be completed within a day. The price that needs to be paid is that these new clan members have less than half the life span of normal clans… But as long as they make enough contributions before their death to elevate their caste, this isn’t much of a problem. “Good, good, this bait is good.” Watching the little fishmen grew rapidly, and there were even signs of mutants appearing so quickly, the priest nodded in satisfaction. He was still busy, in the dozen or so warehouses next door, the food reserves had been laid out, and the hatching process needed to be ignited next. “One hatching house is probably not enough, we should get the army to find a suitable location…” While Shark Fishman Priest was pondering his work, he didn’t notice the calm twin pupils on the ceiling. “Come to think of it, we’re running out of material as well, let’s get those slaves to fetch some more…Ah!!” The sudden drop mask abruptly dragged the tall Fishman to the ceiling, the struggling priest could only kick his legs in vain, and desperately pull the tentacle around his neck. The slaves who were walking around him did not dare to look straight up at their master, and none of them noticed his disappearance at first. After a brief moment of calm, only then was the corpse with the twisted head lowered. Chaos ensued in an instant, with the shrill noise of Fishmen echoing in the corridor. And Lu, had already avoided the blind spot of their sight, hanging upside down from the ceiling so lightly, walked over silently. Ceiling, wall, he just calmly walked to the door of the cold storage. From top to bottom, one crushed the blocking slave giant fish, and the other hand turned off the already refrigeration gear and switched it to the lowest temperature. “Hatching house OK, priests X5 also OK… An irredeemable city, huh? In that case, let’s kill some more…”