Everyone present who had survived to the third year of the apocalypse had experienced a great deal. So had even been millionaires or billionaires before the apocalypse; when it arrived, the governnt forcibly confiscated a vast amount of resources—a fact well known to many.
Before the apocalypse, so famous financial magnates seed to vanish into thin air. So reappeared in their circles after a ti, faring even better than before. But the period of their disappearance, and the vanishing of so friends, was never ntioned—as if by a collective, unspoken agreent.
And those who managed to thrive again did so by clinging tightly to the governnt’s coattails.
But it was an open secret that if anyone had an abundance of food, essential supplies, or other scarce items, the governnt might "confiscate" them. Even the richest energy tycoons in Wu City, despite being in league with the governnt, were likely coerced. Thus, nobody dared to appear too affluent.
The man in the suit wiped his pen and sign with a handkerchief, slowly pondering sothing.
The chubby police officer stood up, patted the first man, an Old Taoist who seed to be in a trance, and shouted while demonstrating, "Write down how much money you can donate!"
"Write what?" the old man asked, startled and confused.
"Write down how much money you have!" the chubby officer bellowed.
"What about how much money?"
"Write!" the officer yelled into the old man’s ear this ti.
"Write what?" The old man opened his eyes and gestured with the pen.
"How much money!"
"Oh, what was that you just said about how much money?"
Everyone: "..."
The chubby officer’s face turned red. Under everyone’s gaze, he firmly wrote "3,000,000" on the old man’s sign and propped it up for all to see. The sight of the figure made everyone gasp.
What did three million an? This wasn’t three million yuan like before the apocalypse. Afterward, it could be exchanged for food, supplies, thousands of guns, cannons, rocket launchers; even an ard helicopter worth tens of millions before the apocalypse might only cost that much now.
At this mont, soone asked about the previously ntioned topic, "What did you say would happen to the person who donates the least?"
The chubby officer nudged the motionless skinny officer, who looked as if he had dozed off before startling awake. He then said, "Oh, to cultivate everyone’s enthusiasm and contributions to the people, being last actually cos with a great honorary reward."
Hearing this, most people let out a sigh of relief—they had feared that failing to donate sothing today might an they wouldn’t leave this place alive.
However, Jing Shu held her breath. These two old scoundrels are so cunning—one playing the good cop and the other the bad cop. If they don’t manage to extort a hefty sum from this group today, I’ll change my na to Shujing!
The chubby officer returned to his seat, legs splayed, leaning back, and said with a smile, "This honor is that of Honorary Chairman of the Wu City Donations Association. It will be recorded in your file, granting you an imdiate promotion to a governnt civil servant. The benefits are quite substantial—many desire this position but can’t get it, so consider yourselves lucky."
Jing Shu raised an eyebrow. Why offer such a great deal to the last place instead of the first?
There was a stir of confusion among the crowd.
The chubby officer praised the position to the skies, making many feel that maybe being in last place wasn’t so bad after all. But then the skinny officer said, "The required duties are simple: every month, you need to bring in donations worth one million. If you co up short, you have to make up the difference yourself. And if you can’t, we really can’t do much about it. After all, we can’t force anyone to donate, right?"
When everyone heard they would have to solicit donations, their hearts grew heavy. But they breathed a sigh of relief when the chubby officer finally stated that if they couldn’t manage, there wasn’t much else that could be done.
The skinny officer continued, "We could only deduct credit points and add them to the big data blacklist, canceling their accounts, erasing their ID numbers, phone numbers, and all other ans of communication. Effectively, they would be blocked from transactions, chatting, purchasing, and would not be protected by the law."
In an era where even money was Virtual Coin, this punishnt was tantamount to completely isolating a person, effectively placing them under house arrest. One would probably have to bring their own son along just to pay for things when going out. Even the chat function would be revoked; if they weren’t constantly accompanied by soone, they could be killed without anyone knowing.
Moreover, for so of those present who were businesspeople, this was even more unacceptable.
At that mont, everyone’s expression turned terribly grim.
Jing Shu’s expression also turned grim. If her trading functions were truly revoked, the lack of Virtual Coin wouldn’t be the worst of it. But without so many other functions, she would genuinely feel suffocated, and doing many things would beco incredibly inconvenient.
"Officer, we don’t want to be untrustworthy, but we also don’t want to beco the Honorary Chairman," soone voiced.
Officer Yan gave a friendly smile. "Then just avoid being last."
"Officer Yan, you see, I’m the managent director of Lingshan District. You can handle this and leave out of it. I have more important matters to attend to," another protested.
Officer Yan waved a hand dismissively. "Please, take a seat. Rest assured, every district is holding this fundraising eting. Nobody’s missing out; nobody’s getting away. Whatever matters you have, there will still be plenty of ti to take care of them after we’re done here."
The managent director for Lingshan District reluctantly sat down.
Then a noble lady dressed in fur stood up and started to walk out. "Donations must be voluntary, right? Weren’t we just here for a survey? Why has it now turned into compulsory donations? I’ve just recorded a video; I need to expose this and ask others—why should we, the consurs, be the ones compelled to donate?"
Officer Yan smiled broadly. "You go ask—give it a good ask. See if the honest netizens support us or you. See if they prefer getting supplies from your donations or if they’d rather you contribute nothing. Sit down, Ma’am, isn’t this fair? Trading supplies for guns and bullets. Besides, we really are doing a survey, aren’t we? Aren’t we investigating how many resources everyone has? This way, the higher-ups can also establish new price points for goods, right? Don’t worry, we’re all civilized people here. We can’t just openly rob you, can we? What’s there to be afraid of?"
The current governnt still bothered with reasoning, still looked for a ’just cause,’ concocting so excuse to make you donate resources, even trading guns for them. You should count your blessings for now. Later on, when all sorts of resources beco critically scarce and thousands starve daily, the authorities won’t bother making excuses or trades. Whoever has resources will be forced to hand them over. That’s how tyrannical it will beco.
When they heard about the cruel punishnt for finishing last—becoming the Honorary Chairman, an appointnt that couldn’t be refused and was directly recorded in their files—they understood. Failure to et the standard ant ruin: completely blocked by big data, rendered incapable of doing anything. How was that any different from a death sentence?
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