Management (2)
Three types of clothing had been issued to the residents. Training wear for labor and daily use: half-sleeve T-shirts and shorts. Crop tops and short shorts for places with lots of water like the baths or hot factories. Nina was wearing the third option. Her sharply defined abs, solidly trained arms and thighs contrasting with her pale skin—she was like a Barbie doll's fighter edition, one hell of an attractive girl.
"Hey there!" she greeted energetically, her short hair swaying and sending a whiff of shampoo my way. Drag, thud. Nina pulled out a chair and plopped down on her own, like a boxer taking a break after a round. Contrary to her musclehead looks, she was quick on the uptake with great adaptability—no one messed with her. Life here seemed pretty good; no complaints.
"There's a lot I like about this place, but the best part's gotta be the food, right? Meat every damn time. Not that cheap crap mixed with flour and god-knows-what—real solid cuts."
Nina spoke with a blissful grin. "All the meat here is cultured meat, so whether it's sirloin, tenderloin, or any other cut, the cost difference is negligible. Hell, culturing a whole slab of beef sirloin is simpler than mixing up that low-grade sausage junk." I tapped the touch panel to check the menu and inventory.
"But we're making adjustments for a bit. We'll keep the nutrition balanced, but the residents' current eating habits are overkill on calories." In a closed city, obesity was waste. What goes in comes out as shit anyway. Medical costs for obesity-related issues? Same deal.
Nina's face fell noticeably at my words. "Don't worry, we'll keep your portions enough to maintain that body. Anything else you need?"
"Bodyweight stuff gets boring after a while. Some proper gym equipment would be nice."
I switched the PDA touch panel to prison zone management mode. The manual activated, and the intro continued.
> Click the 'Prison Outdoor Construction' item.
Hundreds of temporarily installable structures popped up.
> If there are too many structures and it's hard to find what you want, check the filter tab for desired categories. Multiple selections allowed.
I checked 'Health' and 'Physical Education'—down to about twenty options. Picked a few gym machines, and their lime-green models stuck to the cursor. Dragged and dropped them onto the wide open space in the prison yard.
Install pull-up bars?
Install parallel bars?
Install dip bars?
Install barbells (one-piece)?
Allocated enough units and checked the estimate. Iron, welding rods, and power consumption listed.
> Bear user complaints and use recycled iron to save resources. It'll be rusty and chipped—ugly, but performance identical.
Checked V for recycled iron, V for efficient auto-layout, and issued the build order.
"Installing stationary gym gear. No free weights, though."
"Worried I'll bash someone's skull with 'em?"
"Bingo. Times are tough; everyone's on edge."
Nina looked baffled. "It's safe, warm, and the food's great—what trouble could we cause?" She waved it off like it was ridiculous.
"Plenty left family outside. To them, it's basically widowhood." She shrugged.
"It's fine, really. I know a ton of these prison bitches—wide network. The hotheads who'd crack skulls with tools? Mostly no family, disowned. If they've got a guy, it's casual fun or a sugar daddy. Couldn't care less if he croaks out there."
True to her bold mouth, the key profiles showed most troublemakers were loners. "You're right."
Nina grinned like 'Told ya.' There were gyms in the lower residential zones we could salvage from, but I'd hold off. Better as a reward for the obedient—especially the fit ones who'd get stronger control. Win-win, like Nina here.
I hinted at the plan; she beamed, jumped up, and shook my hands wildly. Barely stopped the guard bot from firing in time.
After satisfied Nina left, the next woman was familiar—through a screen, but still. "First time meeting in person."
Sofiya greeted me. "Life here's decent?"
"Safe, warm, full belly—what more? Best part: no iron bars."
"Don't need 'em. Whole place is a prison anyway." Impenetrable fences around the yard, cameras and drones watching 24/7. Even if you slipped out, the city's one big cage. Time problem till caught. Korea's world-class policing? Tiny land, island vibes, CCTV blanket. This underground city's a thousand times spicier.
"Anything you want?"
"Beer."
Ordered the guard bot on my right. "Grab some brews. Raid the building fridge; bound to be a few."
It saluted and left. "Work the drinks and booze production zone if you want. Factories firing up soon—you'll rotate in."
Sofiya's eyes widened a bit. Jobs come with perks. Bakery part-timer slicing bread? Gets the crumbs. Prison scraps like that spark fights. Production zone? Tasting samples for QC, etc.
"Thanks, but... cool?"
"Why not?"
"Won't there be talk? Favoritism."
I chuckled. "So what if there is?"
"...Yeah, no issue."
She nodded. "No need to be fair if it doesn't help. Helpers first." Tapped the PDA; showed a corner of the facility. Big chick bullying a small one—tension high, blows imminent.
"Thirty-four violent incidents since intake."
Dumping a huge prisoner mass into one spot? Clashes inevitable. Settling as alliances form, but slow.
"We know every fight's cause, but intervened only three times." Leaned back. "Why? Normal prison: break it up, demerits. Why let it ride?"
"Uh..." Sofiya hesitated.
"Simple. Zero interest in rehab. We care about profiles don't show." Screen escalated: small woman grabbed by collar, thrashing.
"Influence levels, violence tendencies. How power plays work. For effective control later." Slap. Small face whipped aside. Sofiya's eyes twitched—she mediated with soft power but feared brute force.
"Not a reform spot. Survival hub. Fix criminals to pacifist equals? Then reintegrate to society. No society left. We live here, like it or not."
Stood, approached her. "Turning bad adults good? Useless now. Need order, discipline, obedience. Virtues for stable closed city." Dull thud. PDA: one woman kicked another sprawling.
A3-2 Block: Violence incident detected. Intervene?
[Approve]
[Hold]
PDA awaited orders. I eyed Sofiya undecided. "You got everyone here. No Seyoung, no comms. No you, she'd have starved. Right?"
"Y-yeah."
She nodded vigorously. "Merit earned, obedient, spared guards—smart, controls inmates. Perks for talent? No issue."
Knock knock. "Come in." Click. Bot returned with two frosty, dewy beer cans. Handed one to gawking Sofiya. "Drink up."
Crack. She chugged happily. "Snacks too." Tossed her a pack of coffee peanuts from my drawer. She looked like she owned the world.
"Sasha sways with ruthlessness and charisma. You handle the scared fringes. Outsider shepherds. Odd couple, but great synergy."
"Anything else?" I clinked my can to hers. She nodded, tapped back lightly.
"Count on me. I'll work hard."
More reps came and went—deals struck. Easy trades: I hold all resources/power, just Yes/No. Yes ends it; No, others line up.