The Nagaril natives rushing toward the "miracle" hoped to obtain some divine favor from the place where the gods hid.
But in the end, all they received was the gift of civilization—
Bullets meant to kill them!
That was the gift civilization brought to the backward, though from another perspective, brass truly did count as an expensive gift to the vast majority of backward civilizations! The gunshots across the Vast Nagaril Great Plains traveled a long way with the wind, but no one would run over to see what had happened, nor would anyone care about the bodies dumped outside the cordon.
It was as if they had never existed, just like those people themselves.
Perhaps many years later, archaeologists would discuss this question: Why had these people been killed atop the ruins of civilization?
Was it because they had stolen important information from the ruins? Or had they tried to escape from the tyrant?
Judging only from their bones, it should be impossible to determine their race. Besides, genes could not truly remain perfectly preserved forever; they had a shelf life as well.
The Space Department Minister who had issued the order did not care in the slightest about the deaths of the innocent people overhead. When a scientist reached the very pinnacle of the scientific path and shouldered a greater mission, his emotions naturally withered away.
Combined with the Federation's "elite human theory" of the Upper Class, those Nagaril People were not human in this scientist's eyes at all.
The feeling he had was the same as that of a person killing an animal.
Compared to mourning the passing of these lives, he had many more important things to do—for example, speak with Mr. Lin Qi.
"...According to our calculations, our lander will enter lunar orbit in two