The Industrialist

Chapter 20: Zelkian Farm



***

Grebert’s transaction was a success. Lance went home with 360 units more for Tyllrium samples, with a total amount of 920 units including his cost of transportation.

Grebert agreed to provide a down payment of 30% for the truckload Tyllrium of 30 units which Grebert again transferred 810 units. It was Lance’s terms that to forego the agreed truckload of merchandise, the buyer Grebert, should provide a down payment as his initial operational cost and in addition, a guaranteed production order for both parties.

Therefore, he had a whopping 1,730 units as of this moment.

Lance signed some electronic documents after Grebert mentioned some threatening words.

"Don’t F this up, kiddo. Or Police will be knocking on your doors soon," Grebert seriously said. But because of their previous, numerous, and successful transactions, Lance only smiled.

Crimes for scrappers were dealt with by authorities very seriously. Not only one would have the pleasure of prison for months, but one would also be stripped of the rank. Lance in his case would be stripped of his scrap trading license.

Probably would opt to be employed in factories and a cycle of endless survival due to currency constraint would be until his deathbed.

"Expect 30 to 60 days and all of your requirements will be fulfilled," Lance promised and they shook hands once again. He established a good rapport with Grebert, however, such a relationship was not considerably called friends in good faith. It was purely a professional business relationship.

Nothing was more fulfilling than having smooth negotiations and screaming profits. Unexpectedly, he managed to increase his anticipated price to 10 units per piece of Tyllrium which would almost entirely cover his operating expense for the delivery man, George.

For 30 pieces of Tyllrium in one truck, George would have profits of 450 units. But a full truckload was estimated to accommodate 40 pieces and would garner George an astounding 600 units per trip.

Damian as driver would charge 500 units per trip, which would give his total operating expense of 1100 units. George would charge 50 units for the truck and another 100 units for Joe as his helper and extra rifle men if ever they encountered an Abominant along the way to Axiom Trench.

Joe would be happy to earn another 100 units for a particular transaction per month. That would provide George with a net profit of 450 units per transaction, 500 units for Damian, and 100 units for Joe.

Lance’s material cost for one Tyllrium would be 40 units each supplied in Axiom Trench. And with his current purchase order, he would charge 90 units per piece, with a margin of 50 units each.

For a truckload, Lance would earn as much as 2000 units, and deducted from 1100 operating costs, he would have net profits of 900 units.

It was a good deal and it would not take so much of his time to acquire supply.

The excess supply of Tylls could be marketed to other WWMD stations that sprang in Western, Southern, and Northern sectors. Only a matter of time would dictate that Grebert would share his transaction with Lance of a newfound good quality Tyllrium.

***

A few days passed.

Back at the rebel’s camp, underneath the walls and within the precincts of a vast maintenance deck, Lance visited Joe who had constructed a fence for the Zelkian’s farming.

It was properly made as Lance had instructed. The cage consisted of common-grade scrap metals from the Tier 1 yards and welded firmly to form a rectangular enclosure to separate the two pairs of Zelkians.

"The two females are now clearly pregnant," Joe said excitedly. His high-pitched voice emerged once again.

"How about their food? Did you acquire some here?" Lance asked. Moreover, farming Zelkians needed food to reproduce and survive. Luckily, underneath the walls in the moist and dark environments of the tunnels, rats and Rattus harbored the place.

Joe successfully contracted a few of the rebel members to place mechanical rat trap cages at the far corners of the tunnels in strategic places where rats had been harbored.

Rat provisions as food for Zelkians were exchanged with currency upfront for every harvest and then again would spark a little motivation among the members of the Rebels.

Rumors floated that Lance had his little farm and trading of Tylls going, employing rebel members for operational management. They were happy with the compromises and Jefferson, too, was proud.

As he said to Lance so frequently, but with different statements.

"One of a kind, kid!"

"Zelkian farming. Despite the smell, it’s a good way to fend off the pests here down below."

"Genius. Like your father." Or something like,

"The proceeds of collecting rats is a great help for the cause."

"Two of the members were enthusiastic about it. They were surprised that catching rats could gain units." Joe replied to Lance as he showed the latter the trapped rats in cages piled at the side of the Zelkian farm.

"How much are they asking?" Lance asked.

"2 units per rat, just as you offered, boss," Joe answered. "They are damn happy about it." Joe changed his address to the kid. "The other day, they harvested 6 rats. That costs us 12 units."

12 units quantified to a day of sumptuous meals equivalent for one person.

"Ok, Joe. That’s good to hear." Lance tapped Joe’s shoulder. "Remember we don’t like to overstock rats as we don’t need excess. Unless we will have another female Zelkian in our hands. We just need 100 rats per month to house 12 Zelkians and two couples."

"Well," Lance continued, "I am pretty sure that of the coming few weeks, they will bear another female Zelkian. It would take another month for it to fully mature and mate to multiply. That’s when we increase our demand for rat supply."

"They have been asking me if you have other jobs for them. The ladies here wanted their sons to support the cause by earning sidelines. You know, the under-aged." Joe spoke softly as he sauntered close to Lance.

"Salt. I am looking for a supplier to trade in WWMDs," Lance replied.

"Why Salt, boss?"

"Our digital water softeners in WWMDs only limit their capacity of processing kilotons of effluent water from the Cities. We could not manufacture large-scale digital softeners due to the rarity of materials for assembly. Even MFs could not fabricate them using traditional methods. So these departments opted the use of Salt as an ingredient for softening hard water."

"Ahh," Joe appeared to have not grasped what Lance had explained.

"Remember what I told you before," Lance continued his explanation. "These WWMDs are recycling wastewater to potable water for the citizens to consume. Filtered and clean water, if it’s not softened, the consumers would taste a sharp tingling feeling in your mouth like you are drinking a rusty fluid."

Salt was the most obsolete way of eliminating the hardness of water. The digital softeners used microfibers installed in winding chambers. The winding design allowed water to pass through large softening tubes in a delayed manner, inescapably to be softened over time.

The microfibers were made of an uncommon material that when water passed through, it would undergo a process after the equalizing chamber.

It had to do with the molecular level of processing that separated the combined micro metals from water molecules and filtered them out before water reached another chamber of filtration.

"Got it, boss!" Joe exclaimed. "So salt?"

"Yes, salt. Spread the word, Joe. How can I acquire Salt? I believe with the current technology of its manufacturing, the raw materials were mined somewhere in the Northern Mountains. That’s why its supply is scarce."

"Yeah. I heard the stories. Abominants sometimes attack the caravan."

"Yes. But the North Mountain is not only the place to mine salt. Do you know where is the nearest mining encampment?"

"I have a feeling that I know the answer," Joe smiled as if anticipating Lance’s answer.

"Where do you think?"

"Trench hill," Joe responded.

"You almost got it. But Trench Hill had no salt deposits. In Broadridge mountain, 10 miles after Axiom Trench. But first, let’s acquire the Tylls in Axiom. Call the crew. Let’s have a meeting."


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