Chapter 22: The Fortress, Section 7

“Hm?” Marshal Wick frowned, his gaze turning icy cold.
“What do you mean by that?”
The indifferent man shrugged. Blackhair laughed. “It’s nothing. Just feeling sorry for you. Marshal, please forgive my bluntness. You must know better than I do the harm these vermin cause. If you truly value the impending disaster, perhaps you should do something about it.”
“Are you trying to incite me to rebel?”
“No, I’m just telling the truth.”
“Hmph, so-called truth.” Marshal Wick smiled. “Mr. Blackhair, though I don’t know your past, I’m very familiar with your tactics. You must have planned this advice for a long time. If I’m not wrong, you surely have many spies within the Interstellar Fleet right now.”
“I can’t tell you that,” Blackhair replied with a sly smile.
“But I can assure you that if you’re willing to take action, there will surely be those who support you. Of course, if you’re not satisfied with that either, you can get my help directly. But let me make it clear—I’m not doing this for any gain; I simply can’t stand it.”
Blackhair smiled happily, but for some reason, that smile appeared feral in Marshal Wick’s eyes. He frowned and thought for a while before sighing suddenly.
“I am the supreme commander of the Interstellar Fleet.”
“I know.”
“Every order I give can determine the lives and deaths of tens of thousands of people.”
“Yes, Marshal.”
“But do you know what I did before holding this position?”
“…” Blackhair remained silent, waiting patiently for the old marshal to speak.
“I was just a servant. A lowly servant who polished soldiers’ shoes!! If it weren’t for saving a noble in a war and catching his attention, I wouldn’t be who I am today.” At these words, Marshal Wick suddenly raised his head, staring intently at Blackhair.
“Now, do you still think I might betray you?”
“…” Blackhair thought for a moment, then shook his head silently. He then asked gently, “Can one ignore one’s responsibilities just because of someone’s kindness?”
“For me, yes,” Marshal Wick replied firmly.
“Click.” The communication was cut off. Marshal Wick’s room was immediately plunged into darkness.

Dead silence reigned, with no sound at all. Marshal Wick sat there motionless, as if he were a wooden or clay statue. It was unclear how much time passed before a long sigh broke the deathly quiet and echoed through the air.
“Is this really the right thing to do?”
On the other hand, Blackhair also stared silently at the image crystal in front of him, remaining silent for a long time. Until suddenly, the door behind him opened and someone entered.
“Were you rejected?” the person asked in a low voice, their tone slightly hoarse—it was Monkey.
“Mm, I was rejected,” Blackhair nodded, but his face showed no sign of disappointment, remaining eerily calm.
“That’s troublesome. This guy is too stubborn. If he can’t control the entire power of the interstellar fleet, then forming an alliance with him loses its meaning. It might be better to contact the Five Great Families instead.” Monkey gritted his teeth, openly expressing his concern about Marshal Wick.
“We need to contact the Five Great Families as well. But this task can be entrusted to Bloodpupil. I believe he understands their needs better than I do. Don’t worry.” Blackhair turned around and smiled at Monkey. “For now, the only thing we need to do is to step up our combat readiness. If my assumptions are correct, the first two conflicts were just probes by the Moors. The next time, it won’t be that simple. Tell Baroka to accelerate the search and exploration of the Thirty-One Star Systems. It’s best to find some mining planets or uninhabited wastelands. Our strategic depth isn’t enough yet.”
“Understood, boss!” Monkey stood at attention, chest puffed out. Just as he was about to leave the room, he suddenly seemed to remember something and stopped.
“What is it? Did something happen?” Blackhair noticed Monkey’s odd behavior and asked softly.
“Hehe… nothing really, boss. I just wanted to… think…”
“Think about what? Hurry up and say it,” Blackhair said jokingly.
“I just wanted to build a magic machine like the Killing Emperor’s,” Monkey replied timidly.
Hearing Monkey’s words, Blackhair was momentarily stunned before shaking his head with a smile. “You’d better go talk to those guys from the Black Prison about this. I’m not an engineer. Why would you ask me?”
“Hehe, so you agree then?” Monkey immediately lit up with joy, overjoyed.

Of course he knew that killing the Emperor was the work of the Black Prison gang. But the problem was that without Blackhair’s approval, those guys wouldn’t dare replicate the same mech again. Even though the relationship between Monkey and Blackhair was extraordinary, the Black Prison gang couldn’t give their consent privately. Now that Blackhair had given his approval, everything became much easier. Monkey was already thinking about what kind of mech he wanted for himself.

So ten minutes later, he went straight to one of the leaders of the Black Prison prisoners who had participated in designing the killing Emperor and clearly explained his purpose.

This prisoner leader was named Bedin, who had been in charge of the mech’s configuration during the design of the killing Emperor. Upon hearing Monkey’s request, he readily agreed. Then he operated on a crystal nearby for a while, and a long list of mech models appeared before Monkey’s eyes.

“This… no… this one too, no…” Monkey shook his head as he examined each mech model carefully, still shaking his head after checking them all.

“Don’t you have any simpler mechs?”

“What do you mean by a simpler mech?” Bedin was puzzled, clearly not understanding what Monkey meant.

“I mean ones with fewer weapons, simpler operation. No unnecessary clutter, fast speed, and good agility?” Monkey gestured in front of him for a while before finally pointing at the model of the killing Emperor. “Something similar to this, but with only a solid long sword as a weapon system—longer is better. It needs to be powerful. No other miscellaneous weapons. Reduce the armor weight and increase the central axis parameters. Just maximize agility.”

“This…” Bedin was stunned. “Mr. Monkey, is this what you call simple? The standards are just maximum agility and a solid long sword?”

“That’s right,” Monkey nodded firmly, then stared at Bedin with hopeful eyes.

But Bedin ignored Monkey’s actions, swiftly shutting down the model system in front of him. Then he put on a serious expression.

“Mr. Monkey, please forgive my bluntness. If it comes to mech agility, only pure magic mechs are the best in the universe. Almost all of our Black Prison gang’s mechs are a mix of machinery and magic, so they definitely can’t compare. So I suggest you just buy a dedicated magic combat mech—it should meet your needs.”

“How can that be?” Monkey became anxious immediately. “Weren’t you guys who designed the killing Emperor? That mech is great. I want it. Just replicate one for me.”

“That’s not possible,” Bedin refused the monkey’s request bluntly. “The design of the Killing Emperor involved almost all the prisoners of Black Prison. I’m just one of them. And according to the habits of the prisoners of Black Prison, such a rare masterpiece will never be replicated again. Even I’m not allowed to do it.”
“Arbitrary! So arbitrary!!” The monkey shook his head repeatedly, yet his right hand kept gripping Bedin’s sleeve tightly. “Actually, I’m good at mechanical operations too. So please help me. How about designing one specifically for me? Don’t worry about resources—I can directly ask the authorities to allocate them. I’ll get whatever you need.”
“Just a long sword and limited mobility?” Bedin asked tentatively.
“Mm, just that. By your standards, I don’t care if it doesn’t match the mobility of a magic mecha. Of course, it would be ideal if it could be slightly faster. As for armor, you don’t need to worry about that at all,” the monkey nodded firmly.
“Alright! That’s simple. I can give you the design drawings tomorrow, and you can just order the factory to start work,” Bedin replied cheerfully.
Getting a positive reply, the monkey was overjoyed and left happily.
On the other hand, Black Hair seemed very relaxed.
Recently, the Blood Wolf faction had fully mobilized for combat readiness, but most of their efforts were focused on training and replenishing weapons. As their leader, there wasn’t much he could do. So, he rarely had free time and went fishing by Mirror Lake.
Mirror Lake was the vast lake on the edge of Death Star City. When the Wandering Tribe transformed Death Star, they specifically made this place a source of fresh water. There were hundreds of springs at the bottom of Mirror Lake, constantly spraying purified water—extremely clear. Around the lake, no artificial structures were built for ecological protection; everything remained purely natural, with lush trees and shifting shadows, creating a fairyland-like atmosphere. It was the favorite leisure spot for Death Star’s residents. Even the most irritable Bark Insects would come here for picnics during their training breaks.
Of course, no one knew that beneath Mirror Lake lay one of the Wandering Tribe’s lairs—a huge cave of over a thousand square meters filled with filtering tissues and regenerative cells, responsible for purifying the entire Death Star. Five kilometers further down was the source of Death Star’s name: the focal point of that mysterious radiant energy.

But of course, there are those in charge of dealing with such things. All Black Hair needs now is to relax. Lying lazily on the grass by Mirror Lake, she tossed the bait into the lake and left it alone. In a daze, she felt as carefree as a fairy.
“Ssand… Ssand…” There was a rustling in the grass, and a graceful figure gradually approached from afar…