Zane smirked and pointed to the Butcher.
"The Butcher keeps the peace. No more turf wars. No more fighting over scraps. If you have a dispute, you bring it to me. If you fight in the streets, the Butcher breaks your legs."
He pointed to Tristan.
"The Chem-Runners will stop cutting the product with poison. You will synthesize medicine. Antibiotics. Painkillers. Real ones. We need a healthy workforce, not a drugged one."
Tristan laughed, a shrill, nervous sound. "Medicine is expensive! Who pays for the raw materials?"
"I do," Zane said. "With the gold from the Iron-Heart."
The mention of the gold silenced them.
Zane turned to Lewin. "The Ash-Eaters will clear the rubble. You will fortify the district walls. You will turn the Grinders into a fortress."
"And the Nails?" Krell asked, hi
