Apocalyptic Hoarding Diary

Chapter 427 Exchange Turmoil

Sergeant Wang nodded and strode over, followed by the other four.

The six people stood in a row at this temporary location, which gave them a rather neat and solemn air.

"Attention, all regiments—" Sergeant Wu's voice wasn't loud, but it was full of energy and carried far in the morning air.

"The roll call location has been changed to this location. Those in line don't need to move; just respond when you hear your name called."

A small commotion arose in the line; some breathed a sigh of relief, while others craned their necks to look in their direction. But they quickly quieted down, as no one wanted to cause any trouble at this moment.

Sergeant Wu lowered his head, flipped through the roll call list, and cleared his throat: "57th Regiment, Chen Xiaoshuang."

"Here!" A crisp reply came from the middle of the line.

Chen Xiaoshuang peeked halfway out from the crowd, waved in their direction, and then withdrew.

Wang Chenyan

"arrive".

[At this point, I hope readers will remember our domain name: 10 ...

"Xu Xiaoyan".

The figure wearing a black baseball cap raised his hand slightly at the front of the line, his voice muffled behind his mask but still clearly audible.

Sergeant Wu's gaze lingered on the baseball cap for a moment, but he said nothing and continued reading.

He was much faster than yesterday, clearly intending to shorten the time and avoid causing trouble for those in line.

After the 57th Regiment finished its turn, Sergeant Wang took over.

His 86th Regiment was also spread out, with some people in the front row, some in the middle, and two near the end.

Sergeant Wang called out names at the top of his lungs, his voice as loud as a bell. With each name he called, a shout of "Present!" would ring out from different directions in the ranks.

The other four sergeants also took turns calling roll. Although the scene was a bit chaotic, it was quite efficient.

After all, everyone came prepared, knowing that they would be checking in at this line today, and everyone was listening intently for their name to be called.

In less than fifteen minutes, the six sergeants closed the roll call list one after another.

Sergeant Wu tucked the roster under his arm, glanced at the long queue, and his lips moved slightly as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he said nothing.

The other sergeants clicked their tongues softly, but no one spoke.

Soon, the six figures gradually disappeared along the path they had come from.

The group fell silent for a moment, then resumed its previous restless whispers.

All eyes turned back to the entrance of the trading point.

At 7:00 sharp, the trading point doors opened on time, instantly drawing the attention of everyone in the queue.

The people in front practically squeezed in, their pine resin bags clattering against each other with a dull thud.

However, within minutes, people began to pour out of the door.

First, there was a burly man in his thirties, carrying a half-empty woven bag. His face was flushed, and he was walking fast and fast, almost tripping over the threshold.

He rushed out the door, turned around abruptly, raised his arm at the crowd still in line, and shouted so loudly that the whole street could hear him:

"What the hell?! I didn't sleep all night, and now I'm being told that a pound of pine resin can only be exchanged for half a pound of compressed biscuits?!"

A gasp rippled through the ranks; some hadn't even reacted yet, while others were already whispering among themselves.

The burly man, clearly not done cursing, continued shouting with spittle flying, "You said you'd lower the price later! Lower your mother's leg! Brothers, we need to unite and demand an explanation from the authorities!"

As soon as he finished speaking, several more people walked out of the door, their faces not looking too good.

A middle-aged woman in a gray coat was holding a few compressed biscuits in her hand. Her expression was worse than crying. She muttered, "I only got this little bit. I ran to three mountains."

A tall, thin young man threw an empty bag on the ground, cursed something, and was grabbed by the arm by someone next to him.

Another person didn't change anything at all, just came out with a bulging backpack, stood at the door looking around, as if unwilling to leave like this.

"Didn't they say one pound could be exchanged for eight compressed biscuits? How come it's only four?"

"That was yesterday evening's price! Didn't you see the announcement? It was just posted this morning!"

"What announcement? Where did this announcement come from? I didn't see it!"

"Just look at that little blackboard by the door!"

Some people squeezed to the door to see the newly posted notice on the blackboard, and came back with livid faces, cursing under their breath.

The news spread quickly within the group, and the official exchange rate was adjusted overnight, with the purchase price of fresh pine resin plummeting from 1:1 to 1:0.5.

Furthermore, the notice ended with a small print line that roughly stated, "Subsequent prices will be dynamically adjusted based on market supply conditions, and further reductions are possible."

The crowd began to stir. Those at the front of the line gathered in a small group at the entrance, some waving their fists, some with their hands on their hips, all shouting that they wanted to get an explanation from the authorities.

But there were also those who remained silent, those who had only found two or three pounds last night, and those who were afraid that if they waited any longer, even that little bit would be lost.

With her head down, biting her lip, and clutching the bag tightly in her hand, she pushed forward without saying a word.

Amidst the noise and chaos, people began to quietly slip out through the side door of the trading point.

They wore hats, their coat collars were turned up high, and they walked quickly with their heads down.

These are the people who exchanged the compressed biscuits inside, who didn't want to be seen, didn't want to be blocked, and didn't want to be pulled into any "unite" camp.

The group moved slowly forward amidst the arguing.

Finally, it was Xu Xiaoyan's turn. She took a step forward and stood in front of the counter.

She quickly glanced behind the counter; it wasn't the same three people from yesterday, but three burly men instead.

The one sitting in the middle was a bit older, around thirty-five or thirty-six years old, with a square face and a vertical line between his eyebrows.

When they look at you, their gaze is lowered, not like they're communicating with you, but more like they're sizing you up to see if you've done anything unnecessary.

The younger one on the left had a light stubble beard, his arms crossed, leaning back in his chair, his eyes scanning the crowd in line.

The one on the right is fiddling with the scale, his movements unhurried but each action conveying a sense of "no more talk, weigh it and leave."

Xu Xiaoyan bent down, took off her backpack, unzipped it, and took out the bulging bag of pine resin, placing it steadily on the counter.

The burly man in the middle glanced down at the bag, his gaze lingering for a moment on the amber-colored resin peeking out of the bag's opening, before looking up at her. "Change it all?"

"Yes, all of them have been changed." Xu Xiaoyan's voice was muffled behind her mask, brief and firm, without any extra words or emotions.

The burly man nodded and tilted his head toward his companion on the right.

The man understood, reached out and took the bag, placing it on the electronic scale.