Rise of the Wasteland Chapter 511: Still abandon?
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"Matches, soap, salted fish, dried shrimp, long nails, hammers, saws, iron bowls, iron spoons, iron forks, old clothes, kerosene lamps, portable boilers, ... I ca n’t believe we produced so There are many things, just a match is filled with a full 5,000 tons. "A port worker sighed in the port of Havana.
"You don't look at how many trees we cut down, the forests around Havana have been destroyed." said another dock worker.
"If you cut it, you can cut it, as long as we can get the materials we need." The former dock worker finished his work and sat on the dock watching the "Bird of Paradise" freighter slowly leaving the port. A cargo ship with a load of nearly 50,000 tons was nearly full of cargoes produced by 'Aurora Legion' in nearly two months.
There are more than one or two workers on the pier. In fact, the residents of Havana who have spare time have run to the pier. Even many smugglers who heard the news hurriedly stocked up to the sea, preparing to follow along.
The ‘Bird of Paradise’ is equivalent to pinning all the hope of the entire legion. In order to fill its tank, all the inventory of the Havana Refinery has been emptied. Whether it will be able to get support for subsequent development from Mexico will depend on it.
Two days later, the "Bird of Paradise" bypassed the monitoring area of the Cancun blockade and reached Progreso. The ‘Enclave’ officials who had received news early on the port were extremely excited. One of the entire Mérida was counted, and the entire bureaucracy was pulled down by the Governor. Who dare not come at this time is the enemy of others.
Lieutenant Colonel Harding led all officials staring at the first container unloaded from the port crane. Inside the cabinet is a lot of matches.
The hissing opened the package a few times, and Colonel Harding frowned and polished a match before throwing it on the ground to stamp it out. He asked doubtfully: "Are we short of matches? Can this thing be sold? How much money can I make even if I sell it?"
The officials who followed were silent, either expressionless or disappointed. Then more containers were unloaded, and more materials were exposed in front of everyone. Looking at the very ordinary and even outdated goods, Colonel Harding's face became even more ugly.
"Are n’t you talking about whiskey? What I want is high-end luxury goods that can open up a wide range of sales. What use do these things have for me?" He almost fell.
"What about Alfonso, where is that bastard? We are taking such a big risk that we will allow a hostile cargo ship to drive to our pier, and he will bring me such a broken junk?" Did not find the Zhou Qingfeng's shadow, immediately began to yell and shout.
The ‘Enclave’ officials who followed were all in spectator mode, one by one, watching the nose, watching the mouth, and watching the heart. They didn't say anything. At most, Harding was forced to express their opinions only to echo a few sentences.
Hadding is a soldier, and he only judges the value of the goods according to his preferences. In his view, whiskey is the best cargo, cigarettes are also good, and the value of instant noodles is low, and these daily necessities are simply garbage in the garbage, which makes no sense.
After annoyed, Harding scolded for a while, then drove away from the pier and went to the governor ’s office to find Zhou Qingfeng. But he had just returned from the dock to Progreso, and he saw several trucks driving to his command department.
"Lieutenant Colonel Harding, I'm Rubin. I sent you 10,000 bottles of whiskey, all of which are very good, please accept it." As a errand brother, Rubin is also a part of Merida City. The number of people, as the cronies of the Governor-General, there are not a few people who want to stab him.
Listening to his own whisky, Harding's face was a little more beautiful. He opened the rear compartment by himself, and he laughed excitedly when he found a bottle of ‘Supreme’ whiskey.
"How do you feel?" Rubin asked in time.
Hading didn't answer, biting the bottle cap and guzzling and pouring a few bites down the stomach. The hot sensation immediately emerged from his stomach, and a heat spread all over his body. He let out a long breath and sighed with laughter: "This is the real good thing, all you ship from the freighter is garbage."
Rubin is still waiting to be praised. Who knows that he actually got a ‘garbage’ evaluation. Although it ’s not about wine, the things shipped on the cargo ship are not garbage. The expression on his face converged immediately and asked carefully: "Hadin Harding, don't you like the goods shipped this time?"
"Yes, those are all worthless things. I think you should all come with wine. We can sell whiskey to every place ruled by 'Enclave' and definitely make a lot of money." Harding Say yes.
"Oh ..., if you need a lot of alcohol commodities, according to the agreement between our governor and you, one ton of spirits will be exchanged for one ton of diesel. As long as you have diesel, we can provide enough spirits." Rubin had no intention of saying anything about Harding's point of view, just repeating the previous agreement.
"Okay, okay, a ton of spirits for a ton of diesel, this condition is very suitable, I have agreed." Harding waved Rubin out, and then continued to drink his whiskey.
Rubin left after unloading the goods, and Harding was more and more excited, thinking that he could make a lot of money by selling whiskey, get a higher official position, and achieve a bigger career. He was very proud.
After drinking for a long time, Lieutenant Colonel Harding suddenly remembered one thing-why did n’t the idiot officials on the dock return? Do they have any illusions about the junk goods that are delivered?
There is nothing left and right, and Lieutenant Colonel Harding in a good mood has someone drive him back to the dock where the cargo is being unloaded. Just without waiting for him to get off the bus, he saw that the bureaucrats who were still looking ordinary were now blushing.
"None of you need to fight anymore, all these 20,000 portable boilers are mine."
"Paramount, you don't want to think about it! You can't eat so many items, at most you can give you five thousand, and others have to give us points."
"Boiler whatever you want to divide, but 5,000 tons of matches are mine. I have already contacted the Texas distributors, and I promise to be able to sell the goods."
"I can bring coal, I have a relationship in northern Mexico, where coal mines are piled with more than one hundred thousand tons of high-quality coal. Give up, you can't compete for mine."
"Why do n’t we set up a business alliance, ..."
"The ghost has to form an alliance with you, you are the weakest among us, and you are not qualified to discuss the issue of supply distribution."
Several dozen people called twitter on the scene. Paramount, the production supervisor of Mérida, even broke the blood from the head. No one was willing to give up a little bit of interest.
This made Lieutenant Colonel Harding, who left early, stunned. He got out of the car with a wine bottle and asked in doubt: "What are you doing?"
The bureaucrats who were still arguing on the dozens immediately squashed their flags, whistling one by one to watch the world step on the ground. Some clothes are messy, and the paralyzed Paramount actually said: "Mr. Harding, since you have voluntarily quit this batch of supply distribution, please do not join in any more."
Other people who were still noisy nodded and agreed. Only poor Harding stood aside, there was an illusion that he picked sesame seeds and lost the watermelon. (To be continued.)