The Creators: From Night City

This mixture of liquid and solid hydrocarbons can not only be used as energy fuel, but also as raw materials for other chemical industries. More importantly, it is buried underground in huge quantities. It can be extracted and refined for use. It is convenient, fast, simple and efficient. It is a must-have product for home travel, murder and robbery.

Otherwise, why would the bald eagles of later generations like it so much?

A few thousand meters south of the scorched Wallaceburg lies a well-explored oil field, on which stands a state-of-the-art refinery.

Cornwall Refinery.

It is also the largest oil refinery in the West.

Of course, Anti-Entropy Refinery would be a better name.

As early as the early 19th century, Europe and the United States began building oil refineries, primarily using batch or continuous distillation techniques. These refineries primarily produced kerosene for lighting. Gasoline and heavy oil had yet to find widespread applications and were once considered difficult-to-process waste.

It was not until recent years, with the advancement of technology and refining processes, that major refineries began to produce lubricants, fuel oil and other products.

Cornwall was in charge of a large oil field. Although the money he could squeeze out of the ground was far less than that of the crude oil industry in later generations, he could still make a fortune every day.

This also means that the security of this refinery can be described as very tight.

On Fortress Mountain southwest of the Cornwall Refinery, a red deer clung to a rock, looking at the brightly lit refinery at the foot of the mountain with hatred in its eyes.

The land where the refinery was located originally belonged to the Wapiti Indian tribe. In order to drive them away, Cornwall created a number of bloody conflicts.

He clenched the gun in his hand and tried to calm himself down.

Ever since Feiying volunteered and was selected for the Black King's 'Promotion Plan', he has been staying in the 'medical laboratory' with the tightest defenses, the most solid buildings, and the strictest entry and exit audits for several days. According to the 'Black King's' female messenger, he still needs some time to be reborn and undergo corresponding transformations.

This is the only way to become an envoy under the command of the Black King.

Honglu also wanted to embark on the "promotion", but the newly established armed forces needed someone to lead them. As the leader of various hunting activities in the tribe, he was the natural person for this position.

"Command, the second team is ready."

He Tieya came to Honglu, bent over and reported in a low voice, his mouth full of metal teeth was very conspicuous.

"This is the first real combat for your second team of soldiers. Everyone, please be alert and check again whether your protective gear is properly worn. The condition of your weapons and ammunition should also be rechecked." Honglu was rapidly transforming under the round-the-clock cramming education.

After this period of training, He Tieya has become like a soldier. After receiving the order, he conveyed it to his subordinates without hesitation.

A dark cloud covered the bright moon, making the night even darker.

A former Indian warrior was surrounded by two Chinese workers, who dispersed in a three-by-three formation and moved towards the refinery.

A guard was standing on the commanding heights of the towering distillation tower, but the poor lighting conditions severely limited his vision in the dark. The torch could only illuminate the area near the wooden wall of the factory, and any further away was completely dark.

The same is true for the watchtowers at the four corners.

Their main job was to watch over the oil trucks coming in and out of the gate, and to suppress any disturbances that might occur inside the factory.

The child laborers of various races who were responsible for cleaning the coke ovens and unblocking the pipes, the Italians and Poles who were responsible for operating the distillation towers, and the Chinese workers were always thinking about stealing something to sell. Without the armed suppression of these guards, riots would have broken out at least twice in three days in this high-pressure working environment.

Each of the refinery's four cast iron distillation towers is more than ten meters high. Coal-fired boilers keep the temperature of these distillation towers within a few hundred degrees all year round. A spiral metal staircase encircles the towers, serving as a traffic road. Between each distillation tower platform, an aerial passage is formed by suspended iron mesh, which is extremely easy to corrode and break, and wooden boards.

Fortunately, there were no security guards in that era, otherwise the security guards would have to work in the morning and go in in the afternoon.

The walls of the factory building below the distillation tower are covered with steam pipes. In winter, the corners of these pipes will be filled with icicles of condensed water vapor. In summer, the high temperature of the pipes makes the entire space unbearably hot, which can easily burn the skin of workers working shirtless.

But even in such a harsh working environment, the operators' wages were not as good as those of the Chinese workers who built the railway.

Their weekly wage was only $8.

The child laborers who used iron hooks to clean the burnt brown stains from the furnace, cleaned the "black swamp" formed by oil seepage from the walls of the oil storage tank, where dead birds floating on the surface of the tank were stained with oil, did all kinds of odd jobs, breathed toxic gases, cleaned pipes, and collected spilled oil, all earned an even more pitiful $3 a week.

The rudimentary protective conditions led to frequent deaths, and high pressure became the most commonly used method for the upper class to maintain order.

Beyond that, the job of defending against gas thieves, robbers, and raiders falls primarily to armed patrols armed with shotguns and their Dobermans.

Everyone has a different definition of how much a life is worth.

The life of a child laborer at the refinery was worth 47 months' wages, the life of a Doberman was worth several cartloads of fatty beef shanks, the life of an armed guard was worth hundreds of Winchester M1897 shotguns, and the life of the business tycoon Leviticus Cornish was worth far more than all of the above.

Of course, these are all secular definitions.

The bullets spewed from the copperhead's muzzle will define the value of their lives equally for all people.

A steel core copper-plated bullet.

Of course, sometimes depending on the level of the shooter, someone's life may be worth two, three, four, or more bullets.

The lives of the 12 people in this patrol team were obviously more valuable. After Honglu gave the order to open fire, they and the three Dobermans were all hit by saturation fire.

Every person's life is worth no less than 20 bullets.

As the warning bell rang, a soldier was hit in the chest by a bullet from the watchtower. The bullet from the lever-action rifle made his body shake involuntarily, and the brush with death made him shudder subconsciously.

Fortunately, this combat uniform made of level 3 bulletproof fabric worked as intended, allowing him to stand safely in the team while grimacing.

The bullet's failure boosted his morale.

Dozens of [Anti-Entropy] soldiers advanced towards the refinery gate, shooting. Driven by adrenaline and the power of their combat uniforms, they neither dodged nor evaded, but advanced madly.

The war seemed to have returned to the era of executions by firing squad.

"Maxim machine gun!" The words of the leading Indian soldier were translated through the communication headsets equipped by everyone, making everyone more vigilant.

But before they could change their position to a prone position and shoot as they had recently learned, a flash of fire burst out from the shoulder of the half-crouching red deer.

'Rocket launcher'

Chapter 259 Fool Type I

He Tieya, who was standing behind Honglu, watched as the flying shells blew the bulky vehicle-mounted Maxim machine gun and its four crew members into a ball of fireworks, and couldn't help but marvel at the magic of this cannon again.

Unfortunately, due to the special nature of the refinery, he, as the best trained among the first batch of newly recruited Chinese workers, was forbidden to use this magical "cannon" in this battle, even though he was already proficient in using it.

'Concentrate fire, one o'clock, watchtower'

When the order sounded, He Tieya couldn't help but shudder subconsciously, and instinctively turned the muzzle of his gun towards the refinery's watchtower. Together with another Chinese worker soldier in the same group, he used a dense barrage of bullets to pierce the wooden watchtower and the guards inside.

The refinery was thrown into chaos in an instant. Although the supervisors, who were considered to be Cornelvo's private soldiers, tried their best to appease them, the workers still showed signs of rioting.

They did not want to smash, loot, or burn, but to flee in all directions.

This was mainly because the camp was full of large oil storage tanks. As long as a bullet penetrated these cast iron oil tanks, it would undoubtedly be equivalent to detonating a powerful bomb. Although the thick tank walls could not be penetrated by a few black powder bullets, the previous rocket launcher explosion made these workers who were fleeing in panic mistakenly believe that the attackers had used explosives.

Using explosives in the refinery, it looked like the invaders were aiming to blow the entire factory up.

The supervisors blew their whistles loudly, and the sticks in their hands almost danced six times a second, but they still couldn't stop the workers' desire to survive.

Until the fierce gunfire outside suddenly stopped.

Many employees in the camp and the main distillery couldn't help but hold their breath, wanting to know who would be the winner.

It wasn't until the sound of dense steel-clad military boots stepping on the metal floor was heard that everyone started to panic again.

The door was kicked open, and more than a dozen mysterious men in black clothes and armor, wearing devil masks, broke into the factory.

A solemn atmosphere immediately spread throughout the entire factory. Apart from the hissing sounds coming from the distillation equipment, the crowd was completely silent.

In just a few minutes, the security force of dozens of people was easily overwhelmed by the attackers and slaughtered.

The leading red deer's body was still stained with blood, which was the mark left by him using a knife to kill a guard hiding in the corner.

A dull sound came from behind the mask with a breathing valve, like the howling of a real evil ghost from hell.

"This place has been ruled by the great 'Black King'. All workers will receive better treatment, and anyone who dares to resist will be killed on the spot."

Facing the black muzzles of guns, no matter they were British skilled workers, Chinese coolies, Irish, Germans, blacks who had been liberated but were still struggling to survive, or child laborers covered in stains, everyone raised their hands from the bottom of their hearts.

Giving this little money and expecting to live and die with the capitalist's factory, anyone would know what to choose.

………………

Managing prisoners has always been a science.

Apart from the French who stood out among the prisoners, others, after being captured, would always fall into anxiety and restlessness brought about by the confusion about death and the uncertainty about the future.

If this emotion is allowed to ferment and the external guards are not capable enough, it will easily trigger a rebellion and riot caused by the prisoners' self-rescue behavior.

[Anti-Entropy] has summarized a set of unique operating methods for this.

First, align the granularity with a group of captives, then build a brand moat, and then empower your own value, and finally complete the closed loop of the business.

Translated into human language, it means giving money to appease the protesters, shooting the protesters, arranging jobs for them, and giving them more generous compensation than before, and finally making them voluntarily bow down to the feet of [anti-entropy] (US dollar printing press).

At daybreak, more than twenty three-wheeled motorcycles, so simple that apart from the main frame and transmission device, they had almost no other parts, drove into the refinery.

These simple vehicles are all the works of Jiang Bing.

The structure of a three-wheeled motorcycle is very simple. It consists of an engine from an Easy Ride 120 motorcycle, a small number of belts and gears, a chassis frame welded from several steel pipes, and three wheels. That's basically it.

The shock absorption, comfort, handling and acceleration are all terrible, but this cannot conceal its advantages of low cost, simple manufacturing process, easy control and ability to pull.

As an intellectual among the Chinese workers, Chen Gui jumped off the leading three-wheeled motorcycle, covered his butt, and directed the Chinese workers to unload the goods from the truck.

Behind the tricycle were two troop transport trucks that absolutely did not exist in this world, and on board were more than a dozen intelligent defense robots armed with guns.

These iron men, who were first called "The Black King's Guards" by the Indians, all had a Terminator-like skeleton appearance, which was very terrifying to people of that era. Their eyes emitted scarlet light and they possessed powerful divine powers bestowed by the Black King.

They neither breathe nor drink, neither eat nor drink, neither sleep nor speak, and they always look focused, meticulously completing the tasks assigned to them by the 'Black King'.

Of course, these are the views of the humans in this world.

After the terrifying appearance of these iron men was exposed to the eyes of the captives gathered in the open space of the refinery, the originally somewhat chaotic crowd returned to calm.

Jiang Bing led a dozen iron men from another car into the refinery amid the commotion of the crowd.

Chen Gui had already set up a dragon gate formation in front of the refinery.

The prisoners were forced to line up and register one by one at Chen Gui's desk.

"Name?" (Chinese)

The first person to experience the Western scenery was a Chinese worker.

When he saw that the person sitting behind the table was a fellow countryman like him, his tense expression relaxed a little.

"I, what am I doing?"

"Name?" Chen Gui had already summed up the most efficient working method in his previous work. He ignored the other party's questions, but raised his tone and put on a businesslike attitude.

Sure enough, seeing the stern expression of the person in charge and his impartial attitude towards business, the somewhat hunched Chinese worker did not dare to ask any more questions and answered the other party's questions honestly.

"Zhang Jinsuo"

"Position?"

"I'm a distiller."

"age?"

"31"

"Where is your hometown?"

"Conch Bay, Xiping County, Henan Province."

"Do you have any skills?"

Zhang Jinsuo scratched his head and said, "I only have a handful of strength."

"Can you read or not?"

"Illiterate"

Chen Gui looked at the other person and asked him to sit on the blue chair set up nearby.

He awkwardly held the touch screen pen with the same gesture as holding a writing brush, and registered the other party's information one by one on the magic mirror in front of him that could produce pictures.

"Look at me, sit up straight!"

Zhang Jinsuo did as he was told.

Chen Gui didn't understand what was going on, but he still pressed the first button in front of him according to the training process.

Jiang Bing spent a lot of effort to build this '【Anti-Entropy】Fool I' type automatic population information logging machine.

Chapter 260 Population Registration in 1899

The buttons are made to be the size of a baby's fist, and to prevent users from getting confused, they are marked in both Chinese and English in the order of one, two, three, and four.

Taking into account the user's acceptance, the overall difficulty of using this machine has reached Night City level 6+.

As the button was pressed, a color half-length photo of Zhang Jinsuo appeared on the screen in the center of the machine. Chen Gui examined the photo, made sure the facial features were clear and the portrait was centered, and then pressed the second button.