Having Raul lead the way had been an impulse on Cheng Ye's part, but to his surprise, the idea yielded plenty of unexpected gains.
Take right now, for instance. Raven's walkthrough of the quarantine zone was practically holding nothing back.
Not only did he lay out the official duties of an inspector in crystal-clear detail, but he also broke down every private unwritten rule, every trick for skimming resources, and every angle for lining pockets, laying them all bare without reservation.
Setting aside the common methods Cheng Ye already knew, one detail caught his attention.
The "non-compliant materials" stored in Supply Room No. 3.
What counted as non-compliant materials?
It wasn't the three packs of circuit boards or electronic components confiscated from that driver earlier.
Those items were only worth multiple times their value when smuggled out and sold to other shelter cities, settlements, or lone scavengers. Inside Happiness City, they were virtually worthless, so confiscating them held little point.
What was truly valuable—what truly earned the label of "non-compliant"—were the crystal cores of mutant beasts, contained infection sources, all manner of extraordinary minerals, special plants, and treasures that hadn't even existed in the Old Era!
"You can just confiscate those at will?"
"Of course not," Raven replied, shaking his head at once. "Those things can be traded for an immense number of contribution points. If an inspector confiscated them on a whim, people would be driven to fight with their lives."
"Then how does it work?"
"It's like this, sir."
Owl, who had been standing quietly to the side, chimed in. "By regulation, individuals are forbidden from bringing these items into the Buffer Zone due to the risk of contamination from infection sources. Even if someone manages to smuggle them past inspection and takes them to the Materials Exchange, they only get seventy percent of the standard price.
"On the other hand, if an inspector impounds the items, carries them out of the Buffer Zone, and delivers them to the Materials Exchange, they receive one hundred percent of the standard price. That thirty percent margin is the inspector's compensation for bearing the 'risk of material contamination.'"
Some "risk of material contamination"! Cheng Ye clicked his tongue inwardly. It seemed Garcia's entry tax at the Central Checkpoint was positively modest by comparison. Stacked against that, this "non-compliance tax" forged through bureaucratic collusion at the fast checkpoint was outright daylight robbery.
"And they agree to that?"
The moment the question left Cheng Ye's mouth, he felt foolish for asking something so naive.
What choice did they have?
Could an individual stand against the massive checkpoint—against Happiness City itself?
"You jest, Inspector. They are more than willing," Owl explained with a smile, seemingly missing the undertone in Cheng Ye's voice. "Not only does the inspector help them bring contraband into the Buffer Zone, but they also receive the exact same payout they would have gotten selling it themselves. Why wouldn't they be willing?"
"Is that so?"
Cheng Ye frowned in thought, and then the reality clicked.
Luo Xiaoxue's perspective, bound by the limits of her era, had kept her from seeing through the checkpoint's internal workings. By the same token, he hadn't immediately grasped the foundational logic of this wasteland.
Thinking it through, if that unwritten thirty percent cut didn't exist, scavengers heading out might see their income rise in the short term, but over time it would only breed more conflict.
When people moved in and out of the checkpoint, how could inspectors look upon such treasures and not be tempted? When scavengers went to sell their goods, how could the procurement depots resist driving prices down by force? It might even foster a whole new layer of parasites—black markets, scalpers, and middlemen artificially inflating Happiness City's purchase rates.
Introducing this thirty percent cut not only safeguarded the scavengers' baseline earnings, but also reined in the greed of every participant in the chain from city entry to final sale.
That was precisely why Owl could say, "Why wouldn't they be willing?"
On the surface, thirty percent was siphoned away, but in truth, rules were being traded for dependable profit.
"What about the charging stations here?"
Cheng Ye strolled into the garage, feigning nonchalance as his eyes flicked toward the nameplate on a fast charger.
Just as expected, it ran on three-phase AC power with a maximum voltage of 380 volts and a peak current of 160 amps.
Under peak parameters with an ideal purely resistive load, it could deliver around one hundred kilowatts of charging efficiency. In practice, however, built-in thermal protection prevented it from sustaining full output for long. The current would soon throttle down to around 110 amps, bringing the power to roughly sixty-five kilowatts—about sixty-five kilowatt-hours of charge per hour.
"Ah, you mean those, sir?" Raven said. "Zone A mainly handles vehicles and convoys. Some people inevitably end up quarantined, leaving their vehicles parked here. Charging is an extra value-added service that brings in substantial operating revenue for the station."
"It isn't free?"
"How could it be free? Happiness City waives electricity fees for common folk out of consideration for public welfare, but these drivers go outside to turn a profit. Making it free for them wouldn't be fair at all."
Seeing that Cheng Ye seemed interested in the chargers, Raven volunteered more information.
"You might think the charging here is slow and the price is triple what it costs in the Buffer Zone, but people still crowd in to charge up.
"Why? Because charging in the city doesn't just cost money; you also need approval slips and permits from the Works Bureau. Electricity isn't something just any convoy is qualified to draw. Want to drive out of the city? You have to feed those big shots at the Works Bureau first."
"Charging requires a permit?"
Cheng Ye blinked. His mind flashed back to Master Tian, the bus driver, who had mentioned needing charging paperwork from the Works Bureau before he could head out of the city. Cheng Ye hadn't thought much of it at the time, assuming it was just a vehicle authorization.
"Of course. Batteries are among the most strictly controlled assets in Happiness City. The vehicles in the Buffer Zone right now, as well as the buses shuttling back and forth, belong entirely to the Works Bureau—to Happiness City.
"And batteries have a lifespan. The more fast-charging cycles they undergo, the faster they deteriorate. How could a strategic consumable like that ever be deregulated?"
So it wasn't the electricity that was restricted, but the batteries!
Understanding dawned on Cheng Ye.
Since crossing over into this world, he had seen very few private cars or cargo trucks on the roads apart from public buses. Now he knew why. If charging were unrestricted and paired with the Buffer Zone's free electricity, vehicles would have filled the streets long ago.
Instead, batteries were held under tight scrutiny as strategic resources, their production and wear strictly managed by the Works Bureau, making widespread fast charging impossible.
*If it costs money, there will be records. That makes things tricky...*
Cheng Ye frowned and asked about the pricing.
Raven's answer left him speechless.
It truly wasn't cheap at all—and they didn't even accept Happiness Coins. They took contribution points!
For every hundred kilowatt-hours, the Buffer Zone charged five contribution points, while the quarantine zone charged triple—fifteen contribution points—effectively shifting the battery wear costs onto the charging fee.
"And what about these slow chargers?"
Cheng Ye walked over to the other side of the warehouse, his eyes settling on three standard slow chargers, the kind commonly found in underground parking garages back before his transmigration.
Eighty years had passed, punctuated by several apocalyptic upheavals, so basic, low-tech hardware like this had undergone no fundamental evolution. It still ran on a standard 220 volts at 30 amps, delivering roughly six to seven kilowatts.
"Those are the checkpoint's private chargers, reserved strictly for station vehicles," Raven explained with a meaningful, subtle grin.
"Using these slow chargers doesn't cost contribution points or Happiness Coins, but you do need authorization from our checkpoint.
"The permit for the first unit belongs to the Station Master.
"The second unit falls under the Deputy Station Master's approval.
"And the third unit in the corner belongs to whichever inspector is currently on duty. For instance, since you're on duty in Zone A right now, you have the right to use it. When shifts rotate, that authorization passes to the incoming inspector."
*What kind of setup is this?*
Cheng Ye paused, his brow twitching. He realized he had underestimated how far these people would go.
No wonder they said power was the finest polish a man could wear. The person who designed this framework was a sheer genius, underhanded beyond belief.
First, they set up the triple-priced fast chargers as a compliant target that left the Works Bureau with nothing to criticize.
Then, they installed slow chargers off the books, using them to trade favors and pocket personal gains.
The Station Master got a cut, the Deputy Station Master got a cut, and the duty inspector got a cut. Everyone walked away satisfied.
And the people who needed to charge were just as content. After all, they had to flatter the inspectors anyway. If playing along meant scoring free electricity in the bargain, what did they have to complain about?
*What an eye-opener. I thought the wasteland was all about brute force and killing, but there are some real operators at this checkpoint. To think they could pull off a scheme like this!*
Cheng Ye ran the numbers in his head.
Out of Zones A, B, C, and D, only Zone A had charging facilities, which seemed unfair to the other three. But inspectors rotated duty posts. Cheng Ye was in Zone A this week, would move to Zone B next week, then C, then D, needing a full rotation before returning to Zone A.
That meant every inspector took a turn in Zone A, and everyone received a share of this invisible dividend.
Based on an eight-hour shift per person per day, a slow charger could deliver around fifty kilowatt-hours daily, which translated to about three contribution points at the Buffer Zone's official rate.
It wasn't a massive fortune, but it was hardly pocket change either—roughly twenty extra points a month. Three months of shifts would buy a single gram of extraordinary minerals.
*I can't use the fast charger for power right now, but a slow charger will do. Fifty kilowatt-hours a day means I can bank enough energy for one recharge every two days...*
Cheng Ye weighed his options.
He had already resolved to avoid paid charging in the Buffer Zone early on, while he still lacked a firm foothold. If the person logging power consumption noticed an anomaly and tracked it down, he wouldn't even have a chance to explain himself.
Free charging was an entirely different matter.
For one thing, detailed records were meaningless here; as long as surplus resources caused no trouble, nobody cared where they went. For another, the charging stations in this warehouse were an off-the-books affair to begin with. Keeping overly meticulous records would only create liabilities.
*I'll start with the slow charger. The fast charger comes with too much paper trail risk for now—I'll wait until I have a better read on the situation before touching it.*
*It's only fifteen contribution points; there are plenty of ways to earn that, so long as the channels are open.*
*But since this slow charger is an unspoken perk of the fast checkpoint, what is there to fear? If everyone else is milking the system, why shouldn't I take my share?*
Chapter 29