Big Data Cultivation

"Heh," Feng Jun sneered coldly, "Does the Pioneer Bank have the nerve to ask? Who told you that?"

He Runxian was taken aback for a moment, then answered, "It must have been President Bell."

"He really has the nerve to say that," Feng Jun shook his head helplessly and sighed, "Do you know what he did?"

He Runxian, having run such a large business, was surely no fool and quickly distanced himself, "I really don’t know, what did he do?"

"Installed locators on the cargo containers," Feng Jun snorted coldly, "This isn’t something he could decide alone."

"Locators?" He Runxian gasped upon hearing this, finally understanding why Feng Jun was upset. For someone working as a broker, nothing was more important than channels, "This is a very serious matter. Do you have evidence?"

"Evidence... do you want witness or physical evidence?" Feng Jun sneered, "I have eight people in my hands, and I’m considering how many to leave alive."

"Hey, hey, don’t be impulsive," He Runxian hastily said, "Once you commit murder, it will blow things up."

On the Frontier Star, human life isn’t valued, but that’s only when facing the Insect Race. In a normal society, the basic principle is still that murder must be avenged by execution, though there are many instances of people getting off through legal loopholes. After all, it’s the Federation, not a centralized empire.

Feng Jun knew a little about the situation here, understanding that if you kill someone and then flee elsewhere without a court trial, you can’t end up on the blacklist, just as a wanted suspect at most.

He wasn’t entirely familiar with the specific mindset and operational mode of this society, but the consequences of murder here were much less severe than in Huaxia on Earth. So he chuckled lightly, "You don’t need to say any more, thinking you can probe my bottom line without consequences, is impossible!"

He Runxian was silent. The other party’s attitude matched his understanding of the broker industry. Internally cursing President Bell, he said in a deep voice, "Then let’s not talk about him anymore. There’s no problem with my goods, right?"

The Pioneer Bank’s issue couldn’t be clarified quickly, and he didn’t want these troublesome matters to affect Hesheng’s goods.

"Your goods..." Feng Jun pondered for a moment. The Insect Race was pressuring the production base too tightly. While he could place goods at the depot again, it wasn’t appropriate to request them to shut down all the detection facilities, which would greatly increase exposure risk.

So he thought for a moment and asked, "Things are a bit tense here. Do you have any other places to store the goods?"

"Um... no, not really," He Runxian replied with a wry smile, "We originally had two warehouses elsewhere, but their conditions aren’t good, and with the production base’s material widely available, most people have moved over here."

He had plans to store things elsewhere before, but with the significant increase in materials at the production base and difficulties in transportation, the few guarding the other warehouses couldn’t handle the influx. Although they could store materials there, bringing them back was challenging.

Furthermore, with just a few people guarding the warehouse, what might happen if a large batch of materials arrived was uncertain. In these chaotic times, it’s wise not to test human nature recklessly.

Feng Jun remained silent for a while before answering, "But I can’t ask you to turn off the defense systems, can I?"

"I can raise the dome over the depot," He Runxian had a plan, though uncertain, "If you can invisibly enter the depot, then whatever happens inside, outsiders won’t know."

If he raised the dome, he would also need to activate the dome’s defenses, which would consume significant energy stones, especially if there was a nighttime assault by the insects requiring heavy energy use.

"Alright then, raise the dome," Feng Jun didn’t mind. He had footprints in the depot, so even if the inside of the dome was a sealed space, he could still enter.

In fact, the dome wasn’t a completely sealed space. Once raised, the ground on both sides had very wide doors, over two hundred meters wide. An Assault Ship might not fit in, but a Fire Support Ship certainly could.

During wartime, the production base’s personnel were bewildered to see the depot raising its dome, especially some employees from out of town, who were confused, "There’s nothing in the depot, why raise the dome... Are they trying to lure the Insect Race to attack?"

While they were discussing, notifications arrived on everyone’s communication watches: Stay away from Depot No. 3, do not discuss casually, or you will be directly fired and immediately expelled from the production base.

Getting fired was one thing, but being expelled immediately from the production base was the worst part, as the surroundings were swarming with Insect Race!

The production base, though, had taken in about eight hundred refugees, all fleeing from nearby and chased by the insects, with nowhere else to go. The base had the capacity to shelter them, and many were acquaintances, hard to turn away.

The refugees were managed collectively, with the base providing shelter, hot water, and internet.

As for food, apologies were in order; only those working would receive nutritional supplements; otherwise, they’d have to buy their own. Those particularly well-known could lend a hand at the base and occasionally grab some real meals.

This is how things are during wartime: those capable eat well, and those who aren’t are just lucky to survive.

The production base’s ability to shelter these people was seen as humane, but providing hot water, some nutritional supplements, and minor jobs already reflected a social responsibility.

Expelling them to fend for themselves would be too cruel, but nobody said it couldn’t be done—breaking the base’s rules justified their expulsion, which was only normal, wasn’t it?

And as for the outside being full of insects, that wasn’t the production base’s fault.

Whatever the case, being expelled at these times was worse than the incoming refugees, as anyone would know what choice to make.

Just past midnight, Feng Jun entered the depot. After waiting for about an hour, he unloaded a hundred thousand tons of goods and left, notifying He Runxian.

This time, the hundred thousand tons of goods were split fifty-fifty between foods and medicines. If Hesheng’s base absorbed it all, they’d be set for five years. However, clearly, they didn’t plan to keep it all.

But Feng Jun didn’t concern himself with such matters; he had a pleasant cooperation with Hesheng. The other party needed help, and since it was convenient, why not help? How they arranged things was none of his business.

After receiving the notification, He Runhua had the goods inspected and then promptly called President Bell.

President Bell hadn’t slept, even though it was late at night. Zuo Jing being a focal point of the Insect Race’s attack meant that even at such hours, there were occasional surprise assaults, often by General Level insects—highly destructive.

Internally, Pioneer Bank dealt with numerous issues: employees being forcibly conscripted, branches attacked by insects, and claims for war compensation.

Pioneer Bank ventured into risky territory during wartime, but it wasn’t solely by their choice. The Federation needed such a bank to exist this way, making them more or less just the white gloves in the matter.

Moreover, employee benefits at the bank dropped sharply, leading to much disgruntlement.

Inside Pioneer Bank, too many were riding on connections, and there were high-profile clients they couldn’t offend. The current scarcity of resources meant the inability to offer more services, also damaging their reputation.

Bank employees bitten by the Insect Race lacked sufficient medical supplies—since resources were directed to the military, everyone understood, yet it was still a face-losing situation.

Whenever these thoughts crossed his mind, he couldn’t help but grit his teeth—why could Hesheng find such a fitting broker?

Having just handled an emergency loan request from a city in the district, he was about to finally get some rest when another call came in.

The caller was He Runxian, "I’ve looked into your cargo situation. Someone believes you’ve equipped the goods with a locator. President Bell, I must remind you; this isn’t a friendly act."

"Absolutely not," Bell outright denied, "Integrity is everything in our business. Without integrity, there’s no financial foundation. We would never do something as short-sighted."

"Save the nonsense," He Runxian sneered, "Regardless of what you say, your actions have made it impossible to ship the goods. It’s not our fault, and they won’t drop pursuing you for it."

"Isn’t that going too far?" Bell was displeased, "Holding us accountable... who should really be held responsible?"

"Do you think it matters to act tough with me?" He Runxian continued to sneer, "They won’t let you off. Installing locators on a broker’s goods, it’s audacious. Do you understand the importance of channels to a broker?"

Bell was truly unaware of such matters—to be fair; he had a privileged background, starting high up in the industry. While somewhat knowledgeable, he lacked the firsthand experience having never climbed up from the grassroots.

In simpler terms, he wasn’t grounded, knowledgeable of the phenomenon but clueless about the underlying reasons.

But from the conversation, he realized he might have caused a significant mess, instinctively denying, "I told you, I don’t know about any locators. I merely instructed them to prepare the goods... maybe it was those in the Dumbbell Star System."

"Explaining this to me is pointless," He Runxian was increasingly disdainful, feeling Bell was just cowardly, "Who else but you would order this? Don’t cling to me; they’ll come to you."

President Bell became anxious, skilled in scheming but genuinely afraid of vengeful people approaching him. "I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, about the locator... do they have evidence?"

"Does that require evidence?" He Runxian was slightly amused, "They took my goods and left yours; does that really need an explanation?"

"If you truly want evidence, they have both witnesses and physical proof. Think first, how many of those eight people might survive."

(Updated, call for monthly votes.)