113: Bloody Lithium Mine

(Because the anthropomorphic code does not allow speaking ill of sheep, the plot can only be more abstract.)

Central Roma Continent, on the border of the Nation of Fire Lake.

The pre-dawn mist was torn apart by artillery fire, and the iron torrent of the Nova United States’ Second Armored Division rolled across the border.

The tracks of the M1A3 Main Battle Tanks crushed the ruins of the outpost into powder, and the rising dust formed murky light columns under the searchlights.

Colonel Jackson Gray pressed his forehead against the eyepiece of the thermal imager, the outlines of the village flickering in the green field of view.

Women holding children rushed towards cellars, and old people stumbled away, leaning on canes.

These figures were automatically tagged as “non-combatants” by the tactical tablet’s AI, but were quickly overwritten by the command system as blinking red dots.

“Target area confirmed, coordinates marked.” The cold voice of the operations staff officer came through the headset, “Prioritize the security of the lithium mining area.

Repeat, mining area security takes precedence over all other operational objectives.”

Gray’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his fingers under the tactical gloves trembling slightly: “Sir, intelligence indicates that 90% of the population here are civilians.

Request re-evaluation…”

“Execute the order, Colonel.” The voice in the communication channel, after a brief silence, suddenly became stern, “According to the latest intelligence, the drug lord ‘Silver Serpent’ syndicate has disguised its drug factories as civilian residences.

Remember, every civilian could be an armed drug dealer.”

Three kilometers away, the real battlefield erupted with deafening gunfire.

A swarm of AH-64 “Apache” helicopters raked the jungle with 30mm cannons, tearing apart the “Silver Serpent” syndicate’s secret base.

Drug dealers wearing skull masks screamed as they rushed out of wooden huts, only to be shredded into meat chunks by the crossfire.

But Gray’s armored battalion received completely different coordinates.

Geological scan maps of that area flashed on every tank’s display, with shallow lithium veins marked in an alluring bright blue.

“Execute the order, begin apprehension and occupy the area.” Gray gritted his teeth and commanded.

Soon, the dawn here was quiet.

“Well done, Steel Six.” An unfamiliar voice of approval came through the communicator, “The security perimeter for the lithium mining area has been established.

The engineer company is setting up the isolation net.”

As the morning light first appeared, Gray saw a chilling scene: soldiers were using rifle butts to herd survivors into queues, placing orange plastic rings on their wrists—the common “suspect” identifier in war zones.

A white-haired old man cried out something in the local dialect, then was brought down by a taser.

On the tactical tablet, these people’s records were being altered in real-time, with fabricated criminal charges like “drug trafficking” and “armed resistance” appearing in the criminal record section.

“Colonel, you need to sign this.” The young quartermaster handed over a tablet, displaying a “Temporary Requisition Order for War Zone Resources.”

Gray noticed that the signing date was three days ago, well before they crossed the border.

At the bottom of the document, a cursor continuously blinked, awaiting his electronic signature to certify the legality of this “anti-drug operation.”

The roar of bulldozers came from a distance, and Gray turned to see engineer units leveling houses.

Further away, drilling platforms bearing the Nova Union Resource Development Company logo had already been erected, their drills greedily gnawing at the grayish-white soil rich in lithium ore.

Half a month later, the crystal chandeliers in the Roman Palace’s East Hall reflected the champagne glasses like diamonds, and the plump body of the blond stock market guru almost squeezed into the holographic projection of the Central Roma Continent map.

His fingers poked at the real-time fluctuating numbers, his pupils reflecting the production curve.

“Triple! A full triple!” His voice cracked with excitement, and spittle splashed onto the Minister of Defense’s medals, “This is only half a month!

Once all our mechanized mining teams are in place—” He abruptly grabbed the entire bottle of cola from the waiter’s tray and took a large gulp from the bottle, “By this time next year, the New Union will control 65% of the global lithium supply!”

The Minister of Defense forced a smile: “Yes, Mr. President. However… public opinion is very strong.”

“Let them sanction!” The blond stock market guru waved his hand dismissively, cola spilling on the carpet, “Once we control the lithium, they’ll be begging us on their knees!”

The economic advisor pushed through the crowd, his tablet displaying the latest data from Golden Serpent Street: “Mr. President, stocks related to mineral resources have surged 200%, but the European Union has just passed—”

“Those old ‘gentlemen’!” The blond stock market guru suddenly smashed the cola at the projection; liquid and glass fragments passed through the Europa map and exploded on the wall, “Why didn’t they talk about human rights when they were digging for cobalt in the Black Continent?”

He turned to the Minister of Energy, “Tell FOXS News that Europa politicians took dirty money from drug dealers!”

The Chief of Staff in the corner suddenly cleared his throat: “Mr. President, we still need to ascertain the attitude of the Interstellar Peace Corporation.

It’s been half a month, and they haven’t even issued a formal statement, just an announcement on their official website about increasing medical supplies production.”

“If the rumors are true, and the owner of the Interstellar Peace Corporation really has ties to the Eastern Federation, then is this to say that our actions have gone a bit too far…”

“Nonsense about going too far!” The blond stock market guru kicked over a gilded wastebasket, “Our precision strikes couldn’t even harm an ant!

Which of those arrested and detained people is innocent? Which New Union person hasn’t suffered from the wreckage of the drugs they produced?”

He suddenly lowered his voice, leaning in close to his confidants as if sharing a secret, “Besides, do those guys at the Corporation care about a few lives?”

The blond stock market guru tapped his temple with his finger, confidently telling his subordinates: “They are more like a capital group than those guys on Golden Serpent Street; as long as the money is enough, they even dare to sell things like Warrior robots!

Otherwise, how do you think the ‘Patriots’ on the border came to be?”

“As long as the lithium supply is constant, they don’t care about the price.

Nuclear fusion alone is enough for them to earn endless money; they probably wish we had more money so they could earn even more.”

The holographic screen suddenly switched to a press conference of the Eastern Federation’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Behind the spokesperson were three flags: the Eastern Federation’s national flag in the middle, and the logo of the Anti-Drug Convention and the emblem of the International Court of Justice on either side.

“Our side consistently supports international anti-drug cooperation,” the spokesperson’s calm voice covered all international media present, “but we must reiterate that any anti-drug operation should respect national sovereignty and international law.”

The screen switched to satellite images of New Union tanks rolling over farmland, “The Eastern Federation consistently believes that all actions should be carried out within a reasonable and legal framework.

Unilateral military invasion and forced civilian labor are contrary to the noble goals of the anti-drug cause.”

The blond stock market guru’s face instantly turned liver-colored.

“Turn it off! Turn it off immediately!” He grabbed a dinner knife and threw it at the projector; the blade pierced the Eastern Federation flag, “These hypocrites!

Haven’t people died in their mines? I solved such a huge anti-drug pressure for them, and they actually dare to stab me in the back!”

Suddenly, he laughed hysterically, patting the Secretary of State’s back, “Just you wait, once we cut off their lithium supply, we’ll get a piece of the solar component pie too.”

In the corner, the Minister of Energy whispered: “Those mines… are using forced labor.

BCC has already filmed—”

“Shut up!” The blond stock market guru suddenly turned around, a dangerous glint in his small eyes, “Those are drug dealers! They are criminals! We are reforming them!”

He grabbed the remote control and pulled up a carefully edited video, “Look at this, what a touching scene!”

In the video, ragged locals lined up to receive work permits, with the kind smiles of New Union soldiers in the background.

The video cleverly avoided the armed guards and barbed wire nearby.

As for the scenes outside the video, deep in the tunnels of the Santa Maria lithium mine, sixteen-year-old Juan bent his back, dragging thirty kilograms of ore to the surface.

His palms were already bloody, his fingernails filled with ore fragments, and every step left dark red footprints on the damp rock floor.

“Move faster, pig!” A guard wearing the Nova Union Resource Development Company armband swung a rubber baton, striking Juan hard on the back, “If the third cart isn’t filled soon, don’t even think about getting your ration coupon tonight!”

Juan staggered and leaned against the mine wall, hearing the continuous coughing from the adjacent tunnel.

Old people and pregnant women were confined there; the company said their lungs were more suitable for sorting ore in dusty environments.

Suddenly, the hum of machinery came from above; a brand new automatic conveyor belt was transporting selected ore to the surface, while the impurity ore transported by their manual carts would ultimately only become “the fruits of reformed drug dealer labor” as described by the blond stock market guru, displayed to the media.

“Slap!”

A slap knocked Juan to the ground.

The guard stepped on his shoulder, the gun barrel poking into the corner of his mouth: “Do you know how much this piece of ore is worth?” The cold metal scraped against his teeth, “Enough to buy your whole family’s lives!”

A commotion suddenly erupted deep in the mine.

Juan saw several boys from his village stripped to the waist and tied to supports, their backs raw and bloody—punishment for trying to hide ore that morning.

The company manager was filming with a camera, the lens deliberately avoiding the mountains of ore piled next to the supports, focusing only on the boys’ tears of regret.

“What great educational material.” The manager smiled at the guard, “Later, send it to the ‘Blue Star Times’ with the headline, ‘Children of Drug Dealers Reborn Through Labor’.”

Juan suddenly noticed the surveillance camera on the rock wall; its red-flashing lens was like a greedy eye.

Just three days ago, when these cameras were installed, they were accompanied by promises from Nova Union Resources executives: “Advanced equipment will improve working conditions.”

When Juan finally pushed the third cart of ore to the surface, under the dazzling sunlight, he saw even more absurd scenes.

Armed soldiers herded women and children towards the mine pit, plastic tags around their necks reading “Undergoing Drug Crime Rehabilitation”; brand new ore washing equipment sat idle in the warehouse because the company calculated that “human labor costs less”; several Europa journalists were filming “voluntary laborers” receiving wages, but no one noticed the warning scrolling on the electronic screen behind them: negative work performance will result in deductions from the entire family’s rations.

“Go get your ‘high salary’!” The guard threw three plastic chips, printed with the Nova Union Resource Development Company logo and denomination.

These vouchers, usable only at the company store, couldn’t even buy a kilogram of corn flour.

Juan clutched the plastic chips, hearing the mine area broadcast repeatedly playing a segment of the blond stock market guru’s speech: “…We bring civilization and prosperity to the Central Roma Continent…”