Becoming an Emperor Starting from the World of The Wandering Earth

three days later.

Houston's East Side, a street lined with black markets.

Hidden among abandoned warehouses and a few dilapidated apartment buildings, this street looks no different from other ruins during the day, but it comes alive at night.

It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and it wasn't dark yet, but people were already walking around on the street.

In the middle of the street, in front of a small shop, hangs a rusty tin sign with a few words crookedly spray-painted on it: "Price Supplies".

Inside the shop, Wilson was sitting behind a folding table, holding a tablet and flipping through today's orders.

Across the table, a burly, bald man with a face full of scars stood up and slammed a stack of credit cards on the table.

"Mr. Price, I want the whole shipment. When can I pick it up?"

Wilson glanced at the stack of points cards, then at the burly man, then turned the tablet around and pointed to the numbers on it.

"Three hundred M17s, fifty thousand rounds of ammunition, three days later, same place."

The burly man grinned, revealing two gold teeth.

"Okay, Mr. Price is very straightforward. Remember to let me know next time you have stock. Money is no problem."

Wilson didn't reply, he just nodded.

No sooner had the burly man left than the door was pushed open again.

And similar situations happen almost every hour.

Compared to the University of Tokyo, which has been able to maintain stability, the United States follows a different set of survival principles.

In short, it's like my neighbor hoards food, and I hoard guns; everywhere becomes a granary.

Due to energy shortages, Wilson's arms business not only did not decline, but instead ushered in a new peak.

Gangs and some community self-defense groups are frantically buying weapons, not for any other reason than to survive in this chaotic world.

Meanwhile, in the factory's third-floor office.

The voice of Skynet came from the speaker.

"Master, in the past three days, the number of customers inquiring about firearms purchases through Price's channels has been 4.7 times that of the same period last week. About 60% of them are from local gangs in Houston, 30% are from self-defense groups in surrounding towns, and the identities of the remaining 10% cannot be confirmed at this time."

A map of Houston popped up on the screen, covered with densely packed red dots.

"The red markers indicate areas where violent clashes have occurred in the past three days, totaling seventeen locations. These include eight gang fights, six robberies, and three arson incidents, representing a 230% increase in the frequency of clashes compared to the same period last month."

Murphy stared at the map without saying a word.

The red dots on the map are mainly concentrated around the southeast industrial zone and at the borders of several gang territories.

Those areas were the first to be impacted by electricity price fluctuations, and the number of factories that went bankrupt was also the highest, so this situation is not surprising.

"What about Thomas?" Murphy suddenly asked.

"Thomas O'Connor has attended four emergency meetings in the past three days, and the Department of Public Safety has begun to scale back police deployments."

"According to information relayed back by Thomas, Houston's local police force will prioritize security around City Hall, the UEG energy distribution center, and a few affluent neighborhoods. Patrol frequency in other areas, especially the Southeast Industrial Area and surrounding low-income communities, will be significantly reduced."

Murphy raised his eyebrows slightly; this was within his expectations.

With his instigation, the incident spread far and wide, with riots occurring in more and more places, so the authorities naturally had to prioritize protecting important areas.

As for those slums and industrial areas...

No matter how many people die or how many houses are destroyed, as long as core facilities are not impacted, who cares?

And this is just the beginning.

..............................

The following afternoon, more than two thousand people gathered in the plaza in front of Houston City Hall.

"Oppose UEG! Oppose price increases!"

A bald, middle-aged man stood on the steps, holding up a piece of cardboard with several large, crooked words written on it in black pen: "We want to eat! We want to live!"

"Electricity prices have increased by 40%, but wages haven't increased at all. This is practically forcing us to die!"

"Exactly! Why! Why!"

A chorus of agreement arose from the crowd, the sound waves crashing against the tightly closed glass doors of the city hall.

Just as public discontent reached its peak, the city hall doors suddenly slid open.

A young man wearing a dark gray UEG uniform, holding a megaphone, and followed by two security personnel walked out.

"Quiet down! Please be quiet!"

The young man held the megaphone to his mouth and shouted:

"I'm Alan Mitchell, the communications officer for the UEG Texas Energy Affairs Commission. I know why you're all here, and I understand your feelings, but please let me say a few words."

"Fuck you, what the hell are you talking about!"

Before Allen could finish speaking, the bald, middle-aged man interrupted him, "You understand? How many credits do you get a month? Do you even know how many we get?!"

"Exactly! You guys sit in your offices with the heating on, while we're out here starving!"

"Get Betty Warren out here! Let her speak for herself!"

An even louder shout erupted from the crowd. If it weren't for the large number of security personnel in front of them, the crowd might have rushed forward and killed Allen.

Seeing this, Allen remained calm, as these kinds of protests happen every now and then.

Allen took a deep breath and raised the megaphone again.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Ms. Betty is not in Houston today, but I can assure you that the electricity price adjustment plan has been thoroughly reviewed and is designed to ensure the long-term stability of the entire Texas power grid."

"Please think about this: how much of the power generation quota has been used for the construction of the planetary engines? How much has the grid load increased due to extreme weather? If electricity prices aren't adjusted, and the grid collapses, you won't even have the electricity you have now! This isn't UEG trying to make things difficult for you, this is..."

"This is for all of humanity! Isn't it?"

"We're sick of hearing that! Why should we shoulder the burden for the sake of all humanity? What about the wealthy, the big factories? Why don't they shoulder the burden?"

"Exactly! Why hasn't Mo's Energy raised prices? Their boss is subsidizing it out of his own pocket, what about you UEG? You're just trying to squeeze money out of us!"

Murphy's name exploded in the crowd, and the buzzing discussions instantly turned into even more intense shouts.

Allen's expression changed, but he still held the megaphone to his mouth.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot comment on the situation with Mexico Energy, but please believe that UEG always puts the well-being of the people first. This adjustment includes several subsidy policies, and eligible households can apply for electricity bill rebates..."

"Don't eat pickled radishes!"

This time, the one who was yelling was a middle-aged woman wearing an old overcoat.

"My husband worked in the Southeast Industrial Zone for twelve years. The factory went bankrupt last month, and he lost his job. Our family has no income at all now. Tell me, which condition does our family meet? Huh? Which condition!"

She became increasingly agitated as she spoke, "My family of five is surviving on the meager bean soup from the relief station, and you want to raise electricity prices? Why don't you just take my life!"

The emotions in the crowd were completely ignited.

"Get out! Get out!"

"Get the UEG people out here! Stop hiding!"