Abraham suddenly found McKens very interesting—so interesting that he could hardly bear to make him take the blame.
But unfortunately, his core team could not possibly come from Utopia.
Their origins determined their future.
Still, that did not stop him from appreciating the man. At least, before the final outcome arrived, he could let him enjoy a certain... present.
After Abraham listed some of the goods he needed, McKens fell silent as well.
This really was somewhat unconscionable.
"We have some say in the industries at the bottom as well. I can hand over management rights for some businesses to you. That will be your compensation.
"Of course, we'll pay part of the deposit in advance. You can go back and think it over."
Abraham named his terms, confident they were tempting enough.
McKens decisively abandoned his conscience.
"Gladly at your service, Mr. Abraham."
After McKens left Utopia's second level, Abraham received a detailed list from his other subordinates.
Naturally, he would not place all his bets on one person. What Utopia's lower level needed was an entire class—people who oppressed those at the bottom in ordinary times, then could be thrown out to take the blame at critical moments, consuming Utopia's excess negative sentiment.
McKens was merely a representative, one of a group of clever and ambitious people.
When McKens returned to Utopia's lower level, he found the situation even worse than when he had left.
There were more people idling in the streets, and everyone looked more impoverished. Fortunately, their complexions still looked decent, so food should still have been guaranteed.
How could that do?
If everyone could eat their fill, his job would become difficult.
And Abraham had already told him that resources at the bottom were limited and allocated according to population.
If they were