I chose the safe house, and the Human Alliance regretted it.

At this moment, the shops in Dixing City that don't rip off the poor are open.

Wang Wei stood by the window, the glass of wine in his hand already empty.

He saw everything.

—Those who self-destructed, those young voices, that flesh-and-blood defense line stretching for thousands of miles.

"Imperial will." He murmured those four words.

Outside the store, the commercial street of Dixing City was illuminated with flashing lights and fireworks effects, and fireworks exploded in the night sky.

Under the starry sky, at the Third Fleet headquarters, Zi Chen walked away from the star map for the first time.

He went into the rest pod, unscrewed a bottle of water, drank half of it, and then sat down in a chair and closed his eyes for five seconds.

When the eyes opened again, a red encrypted message popped up on the holographic communicator screen—"Purple Emperor Star, the Imperial Supreme Military Council is urgently convening, requiring frontline commanders to attend in holographic projection."

Zi Chen stood up, straightened his military uniform, and walked out of the rest cabin.

Purple Emperor Star, deep within the empire.

Supreme Military Council Chamber.

Seated on either side of the long table were the faces of the empire's highest decision-making body: the Minister of Military Affairs, the Chief of the Interior, the Imperial Marshal, the Chief of Logistics, and several princes of the core royal bloodline.

At the end of the long table, the emperor sat in a high-backed chair, his expression as calm as ever.

Zi Chen's holographic projection appeared on the side of the long table.

The Minister of War spoke first: "You all know how the fighting is going at the front. The Third Fleet has lost over 60% in three days, and at the current rate of attrition, it won't last more than half a month. I have a proposal to make—"

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room. "Should we activate the 'external assistance plan' and contact the shop owners who don't cheat poor people?"

After he finished speaking, the council chamber fell silent for a few seconds.

A prince put down his teacup, the bottom of which made a crisp sound as it hit the table.

"The example of the Kailos is right before our eyes. The shopkeeper repelled the beast horde with a single sword strike in less than a minute. We fought for three days, how many people died? Millions of warships, billions of people."

"Why use human lives to solve a problem that can be solved with money?"

The chief steward shook his head: "Prince Luo, no one outside knows exactly what price the Kailo tribe paid that time. But the Kailo tribe's pure consciousness civilization has resources and information systems on a completely different level from our human race. What they could afford, we may not be able to afford."

Prince Luo sneered, "Can't afford it? All he wants is energy liquid. What in the Imperial treasury wouldn't want? If he wants it, just give it to him!"

"And then what?" the Imperial Marshal suddenly asked. "We gave it to him this time, but what about next time? The beast tide recedes, but what happens when it comes again? Are we supposed to beg him every time?"

"At least this time fewer people will die!" Prince Luo said.

"Less deaths this time, but what about next time? If you let the empire get used to relying on others for salvation, what will happen when those others are no longer around? Will the empire just wait to die?"

The atmosphere in the council chamber suddenly heated up.

Prince Luo stood up: "I understand your concerns, but tell me—every extra day the front lines hold out, who is dying? It's the Imperial soldiers! You're talking about 'next time,' but those on the front lines, they may not have a next time!"

The Imperial Marshal slowly stood up and met Prince Luo's gaze:

"You're right, soldiers are indeed dying on the front lines. But it is precisely because they die one after another that the Empire has the right to sit here and discuss 'whether or not to call in reinforcements'."

"Tell me—if we can't even hold out for three days and have to kneel and beg for mercy, then wasn't the blood of those soldiers shed in vain?"

"you--"

"That's enough."

At the end of the long table, the emperor, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke.

There was no loud voice, just two words.

But the entire council chamber fell silent instantly, so quiet that you could hear everyone breathing.

The emperor's gaze fell upon the enormous imperial star map in the council hall.

He began, "The Kailo paid the price; the beast tide receded. Whether the price was high or low, I don't care."

He paused for a few seconds, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.

"You want to find a savior, but this savior has never belonged to the Empire."

At the long table, someone instinctively wanted to say "but," but was pulled back by the sleeve of the person next to them.

The atmosphere in the entire council chamber changed the moment the emperor uttered his last words:

"Humanity does not need a god. The First Empire does not need a savior. The fate of the empire cannot be tied to one person. If there truly is a savior—"

He paused for a moment.

"Those can only be imperial soldiers, imperial citizens. They are the ones who used their blood and flesh to keep the beast tide outside the defensive line."

"If you are looking for a savior, look down at your feet—the billions of citizens of the empire are the saviors of the empire."

The council chamber fell completely silent.

No one argued anymore.

"Meeting adjourned," the emperor said.

Just as everyone was about to get up, the Minister of Military Affairs suddenly looked up: "Your Majesty, what about the shopkeeper...?"

The emperor had already reached the door, but stopped upon hearing this.

He didn't turn around, only turned his face to the side, leaving behind a cold and stern profile:

"No need for contact. Let him watch. Let everyone watch—whether the Empire can hold out until victory."

He pushed open the door and went out; the door closed behind him with a soft thud.

In the council chamber, everyone remained silent.

Zi Chen's holographic projection remained silent throughout.

He was only there to observe the proceedings; he had no right to vote.

But when the meeting ended, he nodded slightly at the empty chair at the end of the long table and then cut off the projection.

Zi Chen stepped out of the holographic communication pod and returned to the star map.

The blue area above is still shrinking, while the scarlet area is still expanding.

He couldn't interfere with the Empire's decisions; what he needed to do now was to command the Third Fleet to hold this line.

Soon, on Purple Emperor Star, the Empire's highest joint military and political command headquarters.

An imperial decree was sent at the highest level to all industrial planets across the empire, containing only one line:

"Effective immediately, the entire Empire will enter a full-scale wartime industrial regime. All civilian production lines capable of military conversion must be transformed within twelve hours."

Twelve hours.

Upon receiving the Imperial order, factory owners on some planets immediately dialed their communicators: "Dismantle. Dismantle that entire high-end furniture production line to make room for the cannon barrel forging press."

The empire is vast, with over four hundred planets capable of industrialization.

The factories on these planets operate day and night—lathes turn, alloys are smelted, gun barrels are cast, and energy capsules are encapsulated.

The production lines for civilian smart home appliances, holographic projectors, and private aircraft were all dismantled.

Instead, there were armor plate stamping machines for battleships, energy loop etching machines for frigates, and individual armor production lines.

Workers rotate shifts, but the assembly line keeps running.

The rear must move quickly.

Because people die even faster on the front lines.

At the same time, another instruction was issued.

—Imperial Energy Fluid is classified as a top-level controlled resource of the Empire and is centrally allocated by the military.

Its use by civilians has been completely halted.

All civilian aircraft, private ships, and interplanetary transport companies' stockpiles were requisitioned.

In a private shipyard on Purple Emperor Star, the capital of the empire, the ship owner watched as military personnel loaded his three thousand boxes of energy liquid onto transport trucks, stamping his feet in frustration.

"This cargo of mine is enough for twenty interplanetary freight trips!"

The military personnel, expressionless, handed him a requisition order: "Compensation will be based on market value after the war. The Empire needs these energy fluids to hold the lines."

After hearing this, the boat owner fell silent.

Civilian-to-military conversion, with unified control over energy liquids.

The imperial war machine has officially been fully activated.

inside the store,

Wang Wei's lips curled up; why should the Empire bother with him?

There is no righteousness in buying and selling.

However, since the First Empire wanted him to keep an eye on things,

He'll see how long the First Empire can hold out.

However, Wang Wei withdrew his gaze and walked out of the shop.

Those star beast corpses under the starry sky should not be wasted.