A Can of Coke After Mining: "Give Me My Royalties!!!"
"Give me my royalties, you bastards!!!"
Bam-bam-bam! Zap! Ayla crossed her arms and thrust them out savagely. The right control rod slammed into socket 2 with a thunk! The plastic mop handle on the left crashed into socket 4 with a thunk! Sizzle! The plastic handle couldn't withstand the intense heat and started melting stickily from the tip, but it was enough time to shove the fuses all the way in.
"All plugged in!! Boss! They're in!!"
"Hold it! Just three seconds! It's all spinning up!!"
I was at my limit too. Like an Olympic weightlifter, I squeezed every muscle in my body to crush the rusted, stiff valve handle. Veins bulged on my forearms like they were about to burst.
"Open up, you rotten piece of shit!!!"
Grind! With a harsh metallic screech, the seized valve forcibly engaged and turned. Whoosh!! The moment the valve opened 100% perfectly, massive water pressure unleashed a torrent like a gigantic waterfall. The gushing blue sewage slammed straight into the red-hot cooling pipes on the back of the electrical panel. Sssshhhh!!!
"Gah?!"
"Kyaaak!"
A massive cloud of steam erupted instantly, blanketing the entire control room in thick fog. In the white veil where I couldn't see a thing, the terrifying roar of the electrical panel began to quiet like magic. Beep- beep- beep- ding!
Main battery charge: 100% reached.
Sub-circuit cooling complete. Electrical panel temperature entering safe range.
Beyond the steam, the blood-red warning lights all shifted to gentle green. Soon, brilliant white LED lights blazed on throughout the bunker, filling the space with the peaceful hum of ventilation fans.
"Haa… haa…."
I tossed the wrench aside and sprawled out on the sewage-soaked floor. My lungs burned like they were tearing apart, but the relief wrapping my body was indescribable. A miraculous alert window shimmered ethereally in the air.
Main battery fully charged. All power shortage penalties lifted.
Excess 'Tear of the Sun' mana stabilized. Force-converting.
"Heh… kek."
A mad chuckle escaped my lips. The massive energy wasted on that elegant romance bullshit up top had been funneled straight into my capital and power through our desperate blue-collar grind down here.
As the steam cleared, Ayla collapsed onto the floor, panting raggedly. Her glamorous silver hair was singed and frizzed at the ends, her dress a filthy rag smeared with sewage and soot. She was in total exhaustion.
With trembling hands, I opened the system shop. After this perfect, beautiful labor, it deserved the most violent, reliable reward imaginable. Without hesitation, I bought two cans of Original Coca-Cola.
Plop, plop. Two red aluminum cans dripping with cool condensation dropped from thin air. I grabbed one and tossed it into Ayla's lap as I approached.
"Eek, it's cold! W-what is this weapon? A bomb or something?!"
Ayla flinched and carefully picked up the red can. The cool aluminum touch and water droplets made her look up at me in confusion.
"Weapon? It's a miracle elixir from my homeland. The holy water that restores post-labor fatigue and delivers ultimate catharsis."
Chik- clack! I cracked open my Coke with a crisp sound. Pent-up carbonation burst out with a fizzy pop, filling the air with sweet, tangy black essence. I raised my can toward Ayla.
"Cheers. To successfully fleecing your moronic ex-fiancé's wallet up top."
Ayla blankly alternated between my can and hers, then hooked her finger into the tab cautiously. Chik- clack! A strange friction sound rang from her can too. She hesitated, then lightly clinked it against mine. Clink. The clear aluminum chime echoed in the dull underground bunker—a far more upbeat, vulgar toast of victory than any waltz melody from above.
I chugged the Coke in one go. "Grrraaah…!!"
The sharp carbonation tore at my throat like knives. Then the extreme, violent liquid fructose sweetness crashed in. The caffeine surged through my veins. Capitalism's black elixir electrified every inch of my guts.
Ayla eyed me suspiciously as I blissed out, then peered into her can like she'd made up her mind. The bubbling foam must've looked like poison. She squeezed her eyes shut and brought it tentatively to her lips. The moment the black liquid touched her tongue and slid down her throat…
"……!!"
Ayla's eyes bugged out like they might pop. She froze, trembling all over with the can in hand like she'd been struck by lightning. Her mouth exploded with thousands of tiny fireworks—bizarre, wondrous sensations. No centuries-old elf wine could compare to this overwhelming, brain-melting sweetness. The fierce carbonation slammed her weary esophagus, short-circuiting her brain and unlocking a new world.
"W-what… what is this?!"
Ayla clutched the can like a lifeline, screaming with shaking hands. "It's stabbing my tongue! The liquid's tearing it to shreds! But… but it's so sweet my head's going white!"
"That's the taste of capitalism ruling modern society. Pretty killer, right?"
"Haa… haa…! More… gimme more!"
Ayla gulped it down like a beast. "Glug! Glug! Gack!" Black sticky liquid dribbled down her chin, tracing her soot-streaked neck—she didn't care. Imperial etiquette? Noble grace? That shallow crap shattered before Coke's perfect formula. She tilted the can sky-high, throat arched to squeeze out every last drop of that stimulating bliss.
"Urrrp…!"
Finally, a burp unfit for a duke's daughter erupted from Ayla. She stared dazedly at the empty aluminum can. Pupils dilated, a dumb, satisfied grin on her lips. The insane refreshment of Coke after our life-risking grind had reborn her as the bunker's perfect slave.
Against her spaced-out face, I smugly eyed the 100% glowing blue battery gauge and fattened SP balance. Power for the apocalypse. Capital. And solid labor. I brushed the floor sewage off and stood.
Zone 17 Bunker. An unfinished fortress with mountains of infrastructure left to install.
"Real manual labor starts tomorrow. Earn your keep, Employee #1—you'll grind till your bones ache."
---
The next morning, in the Zone 17 Bunker control room. Slouched deep in a camping chair, staring at the monitor, my lips curved into a grin. The [Apocalypse_Survival_Masterplan_v2.xlsx] file on screen glowed with our current assets.
Thanks to sucking up every last bit of Kasian's mana fireworks show yesterday. Not bad for starting capital—a solid jackpot. But it was peanuts for unlocking a 'small reactor'-grade main generator to survive the apocalypse winter, or high-powered shredders for mutant hordes.
Scavenging luxury trash off the streets and fencing it wouldn't cut it. I needed a massive pipeline to pour giant capital into the bunker.
"Gotta set up a paper company topside."
"What nonsense this early? A ghost company?"
Ayla sauntered in fresh from a shower, cradling last night's Coke can like a sacred relic. Licking the sticky residue from the rim, she was a full-blown caffeine junkie.
"Gonna launch a cartel monopolizing luxury goods for the nobles. Legally rake in cash, launder it into bunker funds. Perfect sucker trap, right?"
At my arrogant declaration, Ayla's red eyes narrowed as she licked the can. She snorted and slammed the empty onto the table.
"Hmph. Naive pleb thinking, straight out of your rootless background. You saying you'll shove 70% of profits right into the emperor and pope's mouths?"
"……What? 70%? What the fuck is that bullshit."
"Imperial Commercial Code, Chapter 4 Article 12. Corporations pay 40% base tax on pure profits. Plus 10% imperial army war prep VAT, 15% mandatory Sun God tithe, 5% local lord security fee. Totals exactly 70%."
"That's insane!!"
Raw curses exploded from me. I choked. Risk my life for 10 billion gold, and the state swallows 7 billion? With these psychotic rates, even sucking nobles dry wouldn't hit the SP conversion for high-powered weapons.
Ayla smirked smugly as my blood pressure spiked and I clutched my neck.
"Doesn't add up, huh? If you're pissed, just lock the bunker and scrape by on potatoes with what's left."
"You… you're mocking me knowing this, aren't you?"
"Obviously. The empire's real power players never pay full tax. They all have their own 'laundry machines.' And your #1 employee knows a perfect lifeline to blast open your clogged business pipe."