"Levis isn't here yet?" In the basement, the printing team leader asked his deputy.
There used to be a total of seven people in the printing class, including the team leader. Mr. Dickinson has been working overtime to recruit talents and has recruited ten people for him. However, facing the printing tasks of more than 30,000 copies per day, the manpower is still obviously insufficient.
Therefore, in this case, the impact of employee absence will be particularly obvious, and everyone's work pressure will increase.
What surprised the printing team leader was that the young man named Levis was the most active employee in the printing class - he was usually the first to arrive at the newspaper office.
He could understand when veteran David was absent from work, and it was common for "lazy" Mike to be late, but Levi's skipped work without saying hello?
There's definitely something unusual about this.
At this moment, the proofreader of the printing department informed the team leader that the proofreading was correct through the communication channel.
The tin-lead alloy newspaper bottom plate has been placed in the steel tank.
As long as the team leader gives the order, today's printing can begin.
I looked at the old mechanical watch on my wrist. The hour hand pointed at five o'clock.
Today's printing must start, otherwise the newspaper will not be delivered on time.
"Don't wait for him." The team leader said gloomily, "Let's get started!"
The deputy nodded, quickly ran to the switch, and pulled the switch.
Soon, the machine began to roar smoothly. The team leader was quite proud of this - yesterday's maintenance work was completed beautifully.
The ink stored in the tank flows into the pool and is heated by a coal-fired furnace at the bottom of the pool.
Four sets of tin-lead alloy negative plates were immersed in the ink pool one by one.
Blank newspapers were sent into the printing mezzanine by the conveyor belt, and were rubbed with fresh ink at a dizzying speed, turning them into newspapers with beautiful layout...
The team leader, who has been engaged in printing work for more than 30 years, frowned when he saw the newspapers with still wet ink being sent to a high place on the conveyor belt, and the sunlight coming from the window shone through them.
Ink...
What happened to the ink?
Why is the color wrong?
The young printers were slow and insensitive, but the old workers saw something was wrong at a glance.
Today’s ink is not pure black, it’s a little brown!
Is there another problem with the pipeline transporting ink?
Then he discovered something even stranger.
The basement was filled with the smell of machine oil, ink and sweat all year round. He didn't expect that he could detect a trace of fishy smell in this almost saturated mixed smell...
"Stop!" the team leader strode forward, waving his gloved hand toward the printer closest to the switch, "Stop!"
The young man with noise-proof plasticine stuffed in his ears squinted and saw the team leader's actions. He quickly rushed to the switch and pulled the switch.
The operation of the machine stopped abruptly, the roar ended, and all the printers looked at the team leader in confusion.
The man in his fifties had a long, stubbled face and a bad temper due to a recovering alcoholic.
He frowned and ran up to the second floor of the machine, reaching for a newspaper that was stuck in the air.
Rough fingers rubbed the paper, and the wet ink stained his fingers.
He brought his fingers to his nose and smelled...
"What's wrong, boss?" The deputy is a slightly pudgy worker who always wears a pair of dirty denim overalls. His posture when running over is a bit funny.
"There's something wrong with the ink." The team leader named Trevor frowned and looked at the ink tank on the bottom floor.
The color of the ink is wrong, and it has a strange smell...
A similar problem once occurred because the ink pipes were rusty, which greatly reduced the printing effect.
But he remembered that the pipes currently used by the Evening News were made of rubber and were unlikely to rust.
Then there could only be something wrong with the ink.
He led the workers, who had been tortured many times, to gather near the ink tank.
This is an aluminum can nearly two meters high. There are rings of lines on the can, just like a water tank.
Every month, an ink tanker truck from Northern Company comes to fill the tank with ink. Otherwise, the lid of the tank is not opened.
The team leader looked at the helpless men around him, and once again took the lead, climbing the cast iron ladder to the top of the tank.
After struggling to twist the winch that was stuck with dry ink, the team leader worked hard to open the top of the tank.
An astonishing smell rushed straight to his forehead, and Trevor almost stumbled and fell off the top of the jar.
With a look of horror in his eyes, Trevor covered the top of the can with a livid face. He sat down on the top of the can and said to the deputy: "Go, call Mr. Dickinson!"
·
After clearing out other employees in the basement as requested by Trevor, Sean, Olivia, Norton, and John stood together, listening to the team leader's stumbling narration.
Trevor is a brave man, but at this moment he seems lost.
"Slow down, Trevor..." Sean blinked slowly, "You mean there's a corpse in the ink tank?"
"Yes," Team Leader Trevor said as if he had lost his soul, "He is wearing work clothes, he seems to be one of our guys, maybe Levi's...
"I can't let other workers know, so I didn't say anything. I asked someone to call you..."
Sean nodded vigorously: "You handled it well, Trevor."
"But it shouldn't be of any use..." Trevor felt a little nervous when he spoke, "Everyone can smell the smell when you open the jar. They must know that there is something in the jar..."
"It's okay." Sean didn't panic at all in this situation, "John, you go with Trevor to take a rest.
"Leave the rest to me."
After saying that, Sean walked towards the ink tank, climbed the cast iron ladder, and reached the top of the tank.
From the moment he entered the basement, Sean smelled a smell, an unbearable rancid smell.
At this moment, he stood on the top of the tank, holding the winch with both hands, and the raven crushed by the machine yesterday echoed in his heart...
What happened to my newspaper?
With such doubts, Sean opened the top of the can.
Directly above the ink tank was a glass skylight. With the faint light from the sky, Sean could vaguely see a dark corpse sitting in the ink that was almost bottomed out.
·
Kegel Lucius swore that he should have seen the gentleman named Sean Dickinson before him somewhere.
It's just that he can't remember.
As the leader of the "Sheepdog" team, it was only natural that he would meet people involved in mysterious incidents: he knew that some people's constitutions were more prone to terrible events than others.
Three team members are using various instruments to detect the concentration of resentment near the ink tank.
Wearing black leather boots and a black leather trench coat, he was walking next to the body placed on the white cloth with his hands behind his back.
All the blood on the corpse was drained and blended into the ink.
The corpse had shrunk so completely that it looked like the corpse of a teenager.
The work clothes on his body were dyed pitch black, but the name on the soft plastic sign could still be seen, "Jack Reeves".
Lucius turned around and looked at the printing factory where the lights had been turned on. He saw newspapers that had not been printed today being hung everywhere on the conveyor belt.
Brown ink, ink mixed with blood from Levi's body.
Every newspaper is printed with Levi's blood.
if……
If the keen old printer had not noticed anything unusual, then the "Beacon Evening News" newspaper would have made a terrible mistake——
They will allow more than 30,000 newspapers printed with the blood of dead employees to flow into the market and appear on the dinner tables and homes of thousands of households.
And judging from the concentration of resentful souls...
Lucius' eyes turned back.
He could not have predicted the horrific events that would turn into.
