Fu Haoran returned to the second stop of 2K World and chose India, which has a huge population base on Blue Star.
As for where to find a large number of corpses, apart from India, Fu Haoran really can't find any other place.
"Boss, we can lower the purchase price appropriately." Jimmy looked at the data in his hand and suggested, "India The official mortality rate is 6.61%, which means 9.5 million to 13.8 million people die in a year. However, according to my research, this death data is only a lot more. The supply is completely sufficient, so there is no need to worry about shortage of supply."
Fu Haoran nodded without saying much, already agreeing with this suggestion from the bottom of his heart.
Their first stop after arriving was India, the most famous black market gathering place - Kolkata.
In a hidden corner downstream of Ganges, there is a sizable human body processing workshop.
From the outside, it looks like an ordinary small processing factory, with nothing unusual at all.
But once you step through the door, you'll see another creepy sight.
The heavy iron door is tightly closed, completely cutting off the outside light and noise. The interior of the factory is dark and humid, with extremely poor ventilation, making it so depressing that people can't breathe.
The air is lingering with the pungent stench of disinfectant, strong acid corrosives, and decaying flesh and blood. The choking smell makes people frown, and even makes them dizzy and nauseated after smelling it for a long time.
In the stainless steel anti-corrosion pools, mutilated human bodies and whitish bone fragments were soaked. The ground was littered with discarded soft tissue fragments and used medical consumables. There were also old uncleaned blood stains on the processing tools, which was shocking.
Countless skeletons and complete body raw materials are neatly stacked in categories, with different prices marked on each pile.
The person in charge of the workshop, Raj, has a lean and dark figure. He wears a shirt that has been washed to white, but his leather shoes are polished to a shine, showing an air of deliberate dignity.
Facing Fu Haoran, the generous financier, he did not feel any guilt on his face. Instead, he slowly introduced this century-old black industrial chain with a bit of abnormal pride.
"Mr. Fu, our Kolkata's human body trade can be traced back to the British colonial era. It can be said to have a long history."
"In the early 19th century, Britain built a medical school locally and was in urgent need of a large number of human specimens for teaching. Kolkata took advantage of the situation and became the largest human skeleton trading center in Asia."
"In 1832, Britain passed the Anatomy Act, strictly prohibiting the trade of local corpses, and all related orders from around the world were transferred to us India."
"At that time, our Kolkata could export thousands of skeletons every year. The first families in this business made a lot of money. Now this business has become a hereditary industry and is passed down from generation to generation."
"After our country became independent, domestic medical schools expanded wildly. The price of human skeletons on the black market has skyrocketed, and our processing technology has become more and more efficient."
"First, the clothes of the corpse are stripped, and the available organs are checked. The corneas and kidneys are cut off separately and sold at a high price. The remaining body is poured with a powerful chemical solution that dissolves all the soft tissues in three days. The bones are polished smooth and then assembled into a set, disguised as medical plastic teaching aids, and smuggled out of the sea through gray channels."
Raj spoke calmly, as if he was not describing a bloody crime, but just talking about ordinary daily necessities trade.
Tychus was leaning at the door of the workshop, smoking a cigarette and watching with cold eyes, without any emotion on his face.
Even though he thought he was used to the darkness and limitlessness of Warhammer World, Fu Haoran still felt that the absurdity and cruelty at the bottom of India refreshed his understanding.
Who would have thought that in the 21st century, human life is still the cheapest commodity in India.
People of lower castes are born to endure the oppression and trampling of upper castes, without even basic human dignity.
After death, not even a complete corpse could be preserved. The skin, flesh, internal organs, and bones were dismantled and sold layer by layer, completely turning it into a profit-making tool for the Brahmin class.
Human sacrifice, organ harvesting, the excavation of ancestral graves, and the slaughter of young children—these barbaric atrocities that only exist in ancient Chinese books are performed every day in this land and have long become the norm at the bottom.
The darkness here is purer and more numb than Warhammer Hive City.
Hive City's cruelty is mostly caused by the helplessness caused by war and lack of resources.
The cruelty of India is just that the upper castes do not regard the lower castes as human beings.
After all, in the eyes of many India upper castes, there are only 100 million "people" in the country, and the remaining billions of lower castes are just monkeys.
Fu Haoran has no interest in interfering with this. He is here to do business, not a saint who comes to save all sentient beings.
"The purchase price is 600 US dollars per body. This is the purchase market price at United States. It cannot be higher." Fu Haoran said simply and set the rules, "Only young and middle-aged corpses with intact bodies will be accepted. The nervous system must be intact."
"I'll give you half a month, as much as you want, but murder and corpse making are prohibited."
"I will reject any goods that are unqualified or from unknown sources. I am a legitimate company, so don't cause me any unnecessary trouble."
Raj was slightly startled when he heard this, and a trace of teasing and sneer flashed across his eyes.
He is another naive and rule-based foreign investor who does not understand the survival rules of the India black market.
But he won't refute, let alone point it out.
Sky-high profits come first, and the so-called "rules" are just irrelevant decorations.
He has many ways to turn those "unqualified" corpses into what Fu Haoran calls "natural deaths."
Raj immediately agreed, turned around and issued a nationwide purchase notice to his subordinates. "Tell the people below that the corpse is two hundred US dollars per body, payable in cash, regardless of source, we will take whatever you get!"
Two hundred US dollars, for the poor people at the bottom of India with an average daily income of less than one US dollar, is a huge sum of money that can be saved by hard work for two or three years. For many families struggling to make ends meet, it is a fortune that can change their destiny.
You know, India There are more than 180 million people living below the extreme poverty line of $2.15 a day. Such a sum of money is enough to make them abandon all ethics.
As soon as the news came out, the India gangs at the bottom were immediately gearing up and ready to take action.
Selling organs and skeletons is an industry monopolized by a few forces, and there are still barriers.
But there is no threshold for providing a body!
As long as you have the guts and skills, there are opportunities to make money everywhere.
All ethics, clan etiquette, and the rest of the dead are all a joke in the face of money.
The slums of West Bengal and Uttar Pradesh have completely fallen into madness.
The timid poor people carried hoes and shovels all night to dig up the new graves of their relatives, dug out the undecomposed bodies, simply wiped them clean and sent them to the collection station to exchange for money.
Those who are brave enough can sneak into the morgue of a public hospital late at night and steal the body directly.
If there is some connection, they directly collude with hospital doctors and crematorium administrators, monopolize all regular and gray corpse sources, and raise prices on the ground.
Even crazier, they take the initiative to target singles and deliberately cause "accidental deaths" such as car accidents, falling from buildings, and food poisoning.
Just spend money to buy a natural death certificate and everything will be fine.
Suddenly, the number of accidental deaths in many places India increased dramatically.
Fu Haoran naturally noticed this, but he did not stop it.
"Boss, the law enforcers here don't care, so why should we meddle in other people's business." Tychus looked at it openly, without any discomfort on his face, and his tone had the unique numbness of "old man" Hive City.
"This is the smell I am familiar with. It is exactly the same as our Lower Hive bad alley, Warhammer, or even worse."
"The Lower Hive gang kills people to grab resources. After the war, they recycle the corpses in exchange for Corpse Starch's lives. It's a helpless way to survive in troubled times."
"These people just want some money, and they dare to do anything harmful to the world. They are rotten from top to bottom."
Fu Haoran has to admit that Tychus is right.
At the bottom of Warhammer Hive City, corpse recycling is also a mature industry. Those corpse processing workers who are exposed to death and decay all year round and the Underhive guys who wander among the piles of corpses will most likely develop twisted minds and easily degenerate into hungry and bloodthirsty Khorne Cultist, or Nurgle Cultist who are addicted to the decaying plague.
What the India people at the bottom are doing in front of them is no different from the scum of 30K Hive City, except that they need an evil god to worship them.
"Yes, we are just outsiders, why bother meddling in other people's business."
Fu Haoran looked at the unbridled and crazy harvesting in front of him, and even saw that local law enforcers were secretly involved in dividing the loot, so he just acquiesced to it all.
Even without him to collect households, there will still be other black industries raging in this land, and the suffering of the lower class cannot be changed by him alone.
At this moment, Jimmy walked over quickly with a tablet and said excitedly, "Boss, Hong Kong, several banks over there are willing to provide us with a total of 2 billion US dollars in loans, and they are low-interest loans!"
Fu Haoran is not surprising.
On the surface, this was just normal lending in the Hong Kong financial market, but he knew in his heart that behind the scenes, the University of Tokyo official was secretly exerting force as a favor.
The urgent need for funds was solved. Fu Haoran did not stay in Kolkata for long and immediately left for the capital of India New Delhi to meet another important supplier.
"Boss, do you still want to collect grain?" Jimmy was a little surprised when he saw Fu Haoran's newly arranged itinerary.
"I haven't heard that there is a famine somewhere recently, and international food prices are very stable. I really can't figure it out. Is it necessary to purchase food now?"
Fu Haoran No explanation.
These grains were never prepared for 2K World, but for Alpha Hive City of Warhammer World.
According to JARVIS's tips, Alpha Hive City's food consumption has increased significantly recently. Although the food reserves are still some distance from the red line, as a traditional Chinese, Fu Haoran always adheres to the creed of "have food in your hands, don't panic in your heart". Since you are here at India, and the food prices here are low, it is better to take the opportunity to stock up in large quantities.
Arriving at New Delhi, the moment he landed, a very contrasting phenomenon caught Fu Haoran's eyes.
This land, where the bottom class is full of hunger and the people are suffering from hunger and cold, is the world's top food exporter. Rice and wheat are exported in large quantities, and the price of food is ridiculously low.
Now is the India wheat harvest season, with output expected to hit a record high. Government inventories far exceed buffering demand, and export quotas are even being expanded to prevent farmers from selling at low prices.
On one side, millions of poor people are struggling on the edge of famine, while on the other side, capital is frantically exporting arbitrage. This extreme sense of fragmentation is staggering.
At the same time, inside Sharma Private Estate deep in the downtown area of New Delhi, there was a different scene.
There are many high walls, which isolate the dirty and dilapidated world from the outside world. The green plants in the garden are regular, the villas are exquisite, and the furnishings are luxurious. They form a dazzling contrast between the rich and the poor with the slums outside the wall.
The owner of the manor, Vikram·Sharma, was rich in his early years.
My family owns three oil mills and two cotton yarn production lines in Uttar Pradesh, and our life is more decent than that of most state legislators.
But later, he drifted away.
A few years ago, he believed the deceit of a London futures broker and invested all his wealth in international crude oil futures, betting that OPEC would cut production and oil prices would rebound.
As a result, the oil price did not rebound, and his position exploded first. Three oil pressing plants and two cotton yarns were all sold, but he was unable to make up the shortfall.
Before he could catch his breath, the rupee suffered another collapse, and his remaining export orders were wiped out by exchange rate fluctuations.
There used to be three factories, but in the end only one is left, which is still half-dead.
The debt collectors followed him from Kolkata to New Delhi, and the bank even put a seal on the last piece of land under his name.
A dignified Brahmin from a high caste ended up with a lot of bad debts that he couldn't pay back, and he even had to borrow money for his family's ancestor worship.
If Fu Haoran's Warhammer Group hadn't sent him a grain purchase order, he would have probably fled overseas with his family to avoid debts.
For Vikram, Fu Haoran is not an ordinary big customer, but the life-saving straw and the only support for the entire family.
If the financial backer's father cuts off cooperation or changes suppliers, the comfortable life he is currently struggling to maintain will be gone forever.
What's more, he vaguely learned that behind Fu Haoran was United States's official backstage, which was extremely powerful.
If he can be completely tied to this big ship, his status in the Sharma Family will be more than just a branch head.
Therefore, after learning that Fu Haoran was going to visit in person, Vikram had been staring at every corner of the manor in person since the night before, not daring to make any oversights.
At this moment, he stood in the middle of the living room, sweating profusely, and gave orders to the servants. "The carpet needs to be changed, not this one. Take down the Persia hand-knitted one from the storage room on the second floor. This one is too thin and not decent enough!"
"The tea is ready. It must be the first spring of Darjeeling. The water temperature should be controlled at 85 degrees. Don't fool me with last year's old tea. Mr. Fu can drink it!"
"Have you finished counting the fruits? Number them one by one and arrange them neatly. Don't lose the face of us Brahmins!"
Vikram walked towards the door as he spoke, then turned around suddenly, pointed at the handrail of the stairs and yelled angrily, "Who wiped it? There are still fingerprints on it! Wipe it again until the silhouette of the person can be seen!"
Beside the carved railing on the second floor, stood an extremely graceful and fiery figure.
Vikram's only daughter, Anya·Sharma.
She is nineteen years old and studying at London School of Economics. She has inherited the superior genes of a high-caste Brahmin caste. She has deep eye sockets, a high nose bridge, and three-dimensional facial features that look like a mixed race.
Her skin is cool white, delicate and translucent, her long brown wavy hair is casually scattered behind her shoulders, and her temperament is cool and noble.
She was wearing a minimalist off-white silk sari, with a very low neckline, her plump breasts supporting the front of the sari, the fabric being taut at high points, and the pleats spreading out along the curvature of her body.
The waist of the sari is tightened to create a slim waist.
She has been dancing Latin dance for three years at London. The waistcoat line between her waist and abdomen is vaguely undulating under the thin saree, which is very beautiful.
The skirt hangs down from the hip bone, and there is a slit on the right side. A whole slender, white leg is exposed from the slit, and the skin on the inner thigh glows with a delicate luster under the warm light of the manor.
This outfit perfectly outlines her convex and curvy, tall and hot perfect figure. Coupled with the Westernized temperament developed by living in Britain for many years, her makeup is light and delicate, and her every move reveals the arrogance of the elite class.
While studying abroad in London, she deliberately concealed her India ancestry, disguised herself as Europe mixed race, and completely integrated into the circle of white elites. She had long since despised everything in India's native land, and had the dual arrogance of high caste and Western elites.
Seeing his father's panic as if facing a formidable enemy, Anya was filled with confusion and walked downstairs slowly, his tone full of disapproval. "Father, you are just an ordinary multinational purchaser, why are you so nervous and reserved?"
"We are orthodox Brahmins. Even if our family is in decline, our bloodline and family status are still noble. There is no need to be humble to a businessman."
Vikram turned around and glared at her fiercely, lowering his voice and scolding. "What do you know! All the grain and oil industries and aquatic products trade under our name are now on the verge of losing money, and they all rely on Mr. Fu's order for blood transfusions to survive!"
"He is our only financial backer. As long as he says a word or changes to another partner, our entire family will immediately go bankrupt!"
He paused, then softened his tone and added a sentence with a bit of expectation.
"Besides, this old CEO is very young, only about ten years older than you. It would be a great blessing for our family if you dress up well and become friends with him."
Although my father didn't say it clearly, how could Anya not hear it.
"Dad, I'm only 19 years old, I haven't had a serious relationship yet, and I have no interest in falling in love with a middle-aged man.
"If you want to talk, you can talk to yourself."
Anya pursed his lips, his tone a bit indulgent and resistant.
"Shut up!" Vikram scolded sternly, "This matter has to be done even if it doesn't work, there is no need to discuss it!"
"I'm warning you, the other party has a distinguished status. When we meet later, don't lose etiquette, otherwise, I won't be able to spare you!"
Anya pursed his lips after being yelled at and did not dare to refute. However, the young man was not afraid of tigers when he was born, so he did not become obedient because of his father's scolding.
She was secretly angry in her heart: Huh, I want to see what kind of background the other party has that can make her father, who has been proud and upholding the dignity of a Brahmin all his life, lower his dignity to such an extent? Could it be that he is the helmsman of a top consortium in Europe and the United States?
Half an hour later, a motorcade slowly arrived at the gate of the manor.
However, there was no lavish party as imagined, no entourage swarming around, just a small motorcade, so low-key that there was no pomp and circumstance, completely inconsistent with Anya's image of a "top financier".
The car door opened, and a tall man stepped out of the back seat.
He was wearing a crisp suit, with no entourage surrounding him, and looked like an ordinary business guest. Even if he was dressed like this on the streets of London, he would not stir up any waves.
When Anya raised his eyes to see the man's face clearly, all the expectation and curiosity in his eyes instantly shattered without a trace.
There was no wealthy white businessman as she imagined, no top chaebol leader, just a younger Asian in front of her.
She has ordinary short hair without any styling, and the suit on her body does not have any luxury brand logo. It seems to be University of Tokyo's local clothing brand, which she has seen on some University of Tokyo international students.
Anya stood there, the expression on his face changed from initial scrutiny, to shock, and finally settled into irrepressible contempt.
In her opinion, those who can control cross-border trade and make Brahmin families surrender must be European and American white giants with strong aura.
An Asian businessman, no matter how rich he is, is still a nouveau riche who cannot rise to the top. He is not worthy of having his father be so humble.
The corners of her lips pursed slightly, she picked up the wine glass in her hand, put on a standard Western social smile, and silently stepped aside without saying a word.
But those eyes that were always picky still looked at Fu Haoran's back quietly with contempt.