Becoming an Emperor Starting from the World of The Wandering Earth

Emily nodded thoughtfully and quickly made notes in her notebook.

She worked in this line of work for five years, visiting countless relief stations, refugee camps, and temporary settlements.

She knew all too well what official institutions were like.

Some are run by volunteers who are very helpful, but their supplies are limited and they often run out of stock.

More often than not, it's the temporary workers or outsourced staff who are paid to do things, and their attitudes are appalling.

She witnessed firsthand how, at the largest federal relief station in the west of the city, a staff member, annoyed by the long queues, poured a bucket of bean soup into a nearby stinking ditch and then told the people waiting for relief that there was nothing left.

She wanted to write about it and report on it, but the editor-in-chief wouldn't let her publish it.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, Emily looked at the long line in front of her, then at the white-painted prefab house. She had just finished packing her things and was preparing to head to the press reception area.

At that moment, a commotion arose at the front of the line.

Then a few young people squeezed up from behind, shouting as they pushed, "Make way, make way, we just want to look, we don't need to queue."

The burly, bearded man who had spoken earlier blocked their way: "What are you looking at? Get in line at the back!"

The leader was a tall, thin man with dyed blond hair. Seeing someone blocking his way, he bit the cigarette butt in his mouth and said with a grin, "Brother, I'm not taking anything, just looking around. I heard there's a new window open here, so I came to take a look."

"What are you looking at?"

The burly man with a thick beard glared at him. "This is a relief station, not a place for you to stroll around."

Seeing the burly, bearded man speak so rudely, a bald young man next to the blond-haired man chimed in, "Brother, don't misunderstand. We just heard the things they give out at this window are good, so we came to see for ourselves. Besides, what if there really is something good? We..."

Before he could finish speaking, the blond-haired man nudged him, signaling him to shut up.

At this moment, an old lady next to them couldn't help but speak up: "You young people, you have strength and hands and feet, why don't you go find work and come here to make a fuss? Mr. Murphy opened the window to give those of us who can't survive a way out, not for you to mess around."

The blond-haired man's smile faltered: "Old lady, what are you saying? We can't survive either. Besides, it's only right that we accept things given to us. What's it to you?"

"You!!" The old lady trembled with anger.

The next second, the burly man with a thick beard stepped forward, blocking the old woman's path, and stared at the blond-haired man: "What did you say? Say it again?"

The blond-haired man took a step back, intimidated by the man's imposing manner, but still refused to admit defeat: "I... I'm telling the truth. Anyway, they're giving it to me for free, so why not take it? I don't need it myself, and I can even exchange it for money."

As soon as he finished speaking, the group erupted in chaos.

"What did you say?!"

"Say that again, you little brat!"

"Get out! You're not welcome here!"

The surrounding homeless people started to speak up, and a chorus of curses erupted.

The blond-haired guy and his companions turned pale and then red with anger after being scolded, but they didn't dare to talk back and could only slink away from the crowd.

"Let's go, let's go, don't bother with these lunatics." Yellow Hair muttered as he squeezed through the crowd.

The group managed to squeeze through the crowd and stand at a distance, looking back at the long line.

The bald guy asked, "Hey blondie, are we really going?"

Yellow Hair took a deep drag on his cigarette butt and spat it on the ground: "Screw leaving, we'll be back later. Anyway, the stuff is free, might as well take it. Let them curse, we'll just collect ours."

"But..." the bald boy hesitated, "What if we get recognized..."

"So what if they recognize me?" The blond guy glared at him. "With so many people in line, how can they possibly recognize each one? They just get what they want and leave. Who would know who you are?"

For thugs like Huang Mao, wandering around various relief stations every day has become the norm.

They didn't have guns, nor did they have the guts to fight the gangs for territory.

All they can do is rely on their cleverness and slightly stronger strength than those who are truly desperate to survive in this narrow space.

Joining a relief station is the first step.

You need to be thick-skinned and have sharp eyes; spot those places where management is lax or where volunteers are soft-hearted.

Then there's cutting in line to get more, and sometimes even playing the victim and making up stories, trying to scam as much as possible.

Once they have received enough supplies, they will choose a place and specifically target homeless people and elderly people living alone who have just come out of the relief station.

They used either coercion or intimidation to snatch everything from their hands.

These supplies will be resold on the black market.

Little by little, if you're lucky, you can accumulate a few credits in a day.

Some of these credits were used to trade with even more unscrupulous drug dealers for the cheapest leaves or synthetic potions to numb the nerves and forget about this damn life.

The rest was replaced with a little bit of food that wasn't too hard to swallow, just to fill my stomach.

This is what is meant by the strong wielding their swords against the stronger, and the weak wielding their swords against the weaker.

So when they heard that the well-known Mo's Energy in Houston was about to open a new relief window, the group quickly put their heads together and rushed over immediately.

They had long heard of Mo's Energy's reputation; they provided honest and genuine products, and sometimes even included meat!

This can fetch a better price on the black market!

Moreover, the newly opened window may not be properly managed yet, and there might be more loopholes to exploit.

However, today Huang Mao clearly met his match.

He had barely finished speaking and hadn't even turned around when he heard a series of hurried footsteps behind him.

"Fuck your mother!"

A loud shout rang out.

Before the blond-haired man could react, he was punched hard in the back of the head, fell forward, and lay face down on the ground.

"How dare you insult Mr. Murphy? I'll beat you to death!"

Huang Mao and his gang thought they were speaking softly and no one would notice, but the people around them had already noticed them when they arrived.

Now, upon hearing that they actually wanted to take advantage of the situation and freeload off the relief supplies, some people couldn't stand it.

A black man, dressed in tattered overalls, with sunken eyes and prominent cheekbones, clearly suffering from long-term malnutrition, was glaring angrily at the blond man.

He knocked the blond-haired man down with one punch, but he wasn't satisfied, so he kicked the blond-haired man.

"Mr. Murphy is such a good person, how could you try to lie to him? I'll show you!"

He cursed every time he kicked a Black man.

The blond-haired man curled up on the ground, covering his head with his hands: "Ah! Stop hitting me! Stop hitting me! I was wrong! I was wrong!"

The bald guy and his two accomplices turned pale with fright and instinctively tried to run away, but when they turned around, they found that a group of people had surrounded them.

"Why are you running?"

The burly man with a thick beard squeezed in at some point, grabbed the bald boy by the collar, and lifted him off the ground.

"Weren't you quite the talker just now? Weren't you going to exchange things for money? Didn't you think Mr. Murphy's things were free, and you shouldn't refuse them?"

The bald boy kicked his legs wildly, his face turning red, and he tried desperately to pry open the bearded man's hands, but the hands were like iron clamps, not moving an inch.

"Big...Big brother...I was wrong...I'll never do it again..."

"You won't dare anymore?"

The bearded man sneered and slammed him to the ground.

The bald boy fell to the ground and before he could get up, a lame old man rushed up and smashed his cane down on his head.

"You dare insulted Mr. Murphy! You dare insulted Mr. Murphy!"

"That's right! Mr. Murphy gives us a way to live, he gives us food! You bastards, how dare you fart here!"

"Fight! Kill them!"

"Let them learn their lesson!"

An angry roar erupted from the crowd, and more and more people gathered around.

Most of the homeless people present were hungry, cold, and physically weak, but their numbers were overwhelming.

They swarmed forward and beat the men senseless.

This is the power of the people!