Chapter 8 The Tenth Floor

The tenth floor of the apartment building was unlike the seven floors below, lacking any separated rooms.

The entire tenth floor was a factory exclusively for Tama Riady.

Inside the spacious area, the cement walls were mottled and dilapidated, and all the windows were tightly closed, without curtains. Instead, brown plastic sheeting was affixed to the windows.

Long, strip-shaped lights hung from the ceiling, and below the lights were workbenches.

Women, teenagers, and children wearing extremely old full-coverage breathing masks sat at the workbenches, busily working.

Around the work area, many gang members with machetes patrolled.

Various large plastic buckets were placed against the walls, and on the shelves at the rear of the room, many white square plastic containers with black skull patterns were stacked.

"Hurry up! Hurry up, everyone!"

A short, fat man with dark skin clapped his hands and shouted, "All of this batch of goods must be bagged before tonight!"

As one of the people in charge of this factory, and also a trusted subordinate of Tama Riady, he understood the importance of this batch of goods.

A few months ago, Santos Aquino, who represented the rebel forces, approached Tama Riady, claiming that they had a formula and process flowchart for a brand new compound and wanted to entrust Tama Riady with its production.

Tama Riady initially refused to believe such a thing.

With so many new compound products on the market, he had never heard of anyone voluntarily sharing a new formula or exclusive process flow.

This kind of thing was priceless, something that couldn't be bought with gold or silver.

Out of respect for Santos's brother, Tama Riady still had his men try to produce a batch of goods.

Unexpectedly, this brand-new compound had a pure taste and explosive effect, turning other products into dregs.

Most importantly, according to the chemical experts Tama Riady had specially hired, this batch of compounds miraculously did not cause any visible harm to the human body.

It was harmless, not causing people to become emaciated, their skin to ulcerate, or their minds to deteriorate, looking like evil ghosts.

Even tasting it regularly could make people feel refreshed, clear-headed, and in excellent condition.

Like... Coca-Cola? Or chewing gum? Red Bull?

The only drawback was that if you didn't taste it every day, you would feel uncomfortable all over.

You couldn't stand the slightest changes in temperature, and any breeze would cause intense itching all over your skin.

The short, fat man was not a chemical expert, but he was a factory manager.

Over the years, he had seen countless human tragedies caused by compounds and knew very well that no matter how harmless these products looked, they would eventually drag people into the abyss.

Regardless, Tama Riady still had his men secretly sell the new product on the market.

The feedback was excellent, and many addicts were even willing to pay ten times the price of similar products to buy this new product.

Before long, the two parties hit it off. Tama Riady was responsible for producing this brand-new product for Santos (sometimes he would secretly keep some products for chemical analysis, process improvement, sales, and bribes),

While the latter took care of overseas transportation, marketing, and other aspects.

As a confidant, the short, fat man knew that as the cooperation between the two parties continued and the relationship became closer, Santos Aquino had also brought another drawing to Tama Riady.

This drawing was an improved version of the original, with a more complicated process flow and more demanding preparation conditions.

But the product's potency was also stronger, even to the point of being unparalleled.

The product manufactured from this new drawing was called "昙花" (Tanhua).

The production and packaging of Tanhua became more confidential at Santos's request.

Everything was done in a secret room on the tenth floor, and even the short, fat man was unable to know the entire process flow.

He only knew that these "Tanhua" were sold all over the world.

In addition to the Philippines, there were regions in other continents producing and selling "Tanhua."

It was as if someone or some organization was fully promoting it.

No matter what these people's motives were, they certainly didn't care much about money, and didn't set a high price for Tanhua and Tanhua's sub-products.

Otherwise, such a "harmless" compound would be enough for them to build a vast empire.

Pulling his thoughts back, the short, fat man looked around the factory and called over a few gang members with machetes to help the women fill the sub-products of Tanhua.

Even if the effect was a little worse, these goods could still be sold at a high price.

Outside the factory, Tama Riady's right-hand man, a man named Zaza, yelled into the walkie-talkie, "Hello? Hello? Da Gui, can you hear me??"

The walkie-talkie was full of static and couldn't hear any response.

Zaza cursed, plugged the walkie-talkie back into his waist, and the short, fat man hesitated and walked over, saying, "Zaza, what's wrong? Did Da Gui run into trouble?"

Zaza turned his head and stared at the other person for a while, causing the latter to feel a chill in his heart and be uncomfortable all over.

Zaza was Tama Riady's top fighter, having learned the Southeast Asian traditional martial art pencaksilat (pencaksilat, originating from Malay culture, widely spread in Southeast Asia, with many variations, characterized by speed, skill, and swiftness) since he was a child.

He had once used his fists and a tiger claw knife to kill ten other gang fighters who had come to block him in an alley.

When being stared at by Zaza, the short, fat man felt like he was being watched by a fierce tiger ready to devour someone.

His heart was pounding, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

After staring for a while, Zaza withdrew his gaze and coldly ordered,

"The remaining goods don't need to be packed for the time being. Have those women send all the packages that have been packed to the warehouse. You call over all the remaining people who can fight."

"Ah?"

The short, fat man was stunned when he heard this. He only knew that a special operations team had rushed into the building.

But Tama Riady had clearly received the news before and arranged for his men to ambush them.

The man asked in confusion, "Haven't they been scattered and we're preparing to finish them off? Why are we still fighting?"

Zaza said calmly, "You talk too much."

The short, fat man trembled all over, lowered his head, didn't dare to say more, ran back into the room, sent the women to transport the goods, and had all the fighters take their guns.

Zaza stood alone in the corridor. All the subordinates he had sent downstairs had lost contact, and not even a single piece of useful information had been sent back.

He picked up the walkie-talkie, said a few simple words to Tama Riady, and had the gang leader he served prepare for escape.

As for himself...

A smile appeared on Zaza's unremarkable, thin face—he was willing to pledge his allegiance to Tama Riady and offer his heart.