Rank 4 Scribe

Marquez closed the ledger upon hearing this.

"Five Hundred Tons of High-Energy Fuel, to appease a Harvester?"

He approached Rovi, his tall shadow engulfing him.

"According to the Ministry of the Interior's Material Guidance Manual No. 492, a standard model Harvester only requires five kilograms of incense and three liters of Sacred Oil for its activation ceremony."

"You are wasting the Empire's assets, Scribe."

"That is the standard model, sir," Rovi did not flinch. "We are using the Model M36 'Redeemer' Harvester. This ancient Machine Spirit is ill-tempered."

"If we do not provide enough High-Energy Fuel as a sacrifice, they will cease to function."

"Last quarter, due to insufficient fuel supply, Machine Spirit Number Three became enraged, resulting in two Operators being caught in the gears and a three-day production halt."

Rovi paused, then delivered his killer blow.

"The loss from a three-day production halt is four thousand tons of Komugi. The cost of five hundred tons of fuel is equivalent to only five hundred tons of Komugi."

"To save five hundred tons and lose four thousand tons is illogical. It goes against the Emperor's teaching that we must 'make the best use of everything'."

Marquez's Mechanical Eye zoomed in.

He was calculating.

A few seconds later, he turned his head to look at Kais.

"Then, what about the coating for the Irrigation Canal? It used eight thousand tons?"

Kais finally reacted. He wiped the sweat from his brow and said loudly:

"This... this is to prevent leakage. Water is the Emperor's gift, not a single drop can be wasted!"

Marquez ignored him, still staring at Rovi.

"Ordinary anti-seepage engineering does not require so much material."

"Because of the soil," Rovi's voice was steady. "The Archives record shows that the Adeptus Mechanicus sowed Sulfides in this area in Year M37."

"The residual sulfur elements have caused excessive soil acidity, which will corrode conventional coatings. We need to triple the thickness and mix in a neutralizing agent."

"If this is not done, the Irrigation Canal will collapse within three months. At that time, the entire Eastern Sector's yield will be zero."

Rovi stated the Archives' file number.

"You can verify it. Archives, Sector C-4, Shelf Number 772, File 19."

Marquez fell silent.

The Servitor Skull behind him flew up, extended a probe, and seemed to connect to the orbital Mothership Database for verification.

Half a minute.

This half a minute felt like a century.

The Servitor Skull emitted a crisp "ding."

Verification passed.

The red light in Marquez's eyes dimmed slightly.

He reopened the ledger and took out a seal.

"Approved."

Pa.

The red seal was stamped onto the ledger page.

Kais let out a long sigh, his entire body slumping down like a puddle of mud.

Marquez changed the subject.

"Although compliant, the efficiency is too low. Next quarter, I want to see this portion of expenditure reduced by ten percent. Otherwise, I'll turn you two into fertilizer."

"Yes, yes, absolutely!" Kais nodded frantically.

Marquez threw the ledger back into Rovi's arms.

"Lead the way. I want to see the physical inventory."

The inspection lasted for a full four hours.

Rovi followed behind, answering every tricky question.

The density of inventory stacking, moisture-proof measures, and even the rat extermination rate.

He answered flawlessly.

Sufficient preparation allowed him to perform like a veteran who had been in this position for fifty years.

Marquez didn't cause any more trouble.

For the Ministry of the Interior, they didn't care if you were a good person, only if you were a useful part.

Rovi was now a useful part.

Before leaving, Marquez stood at the shuttle door and looked Rovi in the eye for the first time.

"What's your name?"

"Rovi, sir. Rank 4 Scribe."

"Your logic circuits are very clear. That's rare in this Frontier World full of idiots."

Marquez unfastened a metal chip from his belt and threw it to Rovi.

"This is a Primary Authority Keychip from the Ministry of the Interior. If you can survive until the next Tithe collection, I will consider giving you a chance to work in the upper levels of the Hive City."

After speaking, he turned and walked into the Shuttle.

The cabin door closed.

The engines roared.

The Shuttle ascended and disappeared into the clouds.

Kais stood in place, looking at the Loyalty Medal in his hand, laughing like a madman.

"I passed, haha, I passed!"

He turned around and slapped Rovi hard on the back.

"Good kid, you really did it! That deadpan face actually gave you a Letter of Recommendation!"

Rovi held the cold chip and bowed his head.

"It's all thanks to the Supervisor's cultivation."

Kais's laughter abruptly stopped.

He stared at the chip in Rovi's hand, his expression changing.

Greed, and jealousy.

Deeper still, was killing intent.

A subordinate who was too capable, and a subordinate who had received a Letter of Recommendation from the Ministry of the Interior.

To Kais, this was no longer a tool, but a threat.

"Rovi, you must be tired. Give me the chip to keep safe. It's not safe for someone of your rank to carry this."

Rovi did not hesitate.

He handed over the chip with both hands.

"Of course, sir. This is your merit."

Kais snatched the chip and stuffed it into his pocket.

The fat on his face jiggled, revealing a satisfied expression.

"Very good, you're sensible. Go back and rest, you have the night off."

"Thank you, sir."

Rovi turned and left.

He walked slowly, his steps steady.

He could feel Kais's gaze sticking to his back like a venomous snake.

Kais wouldn't let him live until the next tax collection.

Perhaps tonight, perhaps tomorrow.

An "accident" would befall him.

Either he would fall into a Crusher by accident, or he would eat expired Corpse Starch and be poisoned.

Rovi walked out of the granary gate.

The sky outside was gloomy.

He didn't return to his dorm.

He took a turn and headed towards the Mechanical Repair Workshop in the Lower Sector.

Since Kais wanted to kill him, he had to make sure Kais couldn't.

On this planet, besides the Governor and the Ministry of the Interior, there was another force.

The Adeptus Mechanicus.

Rovi had noticed something during his inspection just now.

When the "M36 Harvester" was mentioned, a Tech-Priest responsible for maintenance had a flicker of pain in his eyes.

That machine was sick.

Not lacking fuel, but truly sick.

The people of the Adeptus Mechanicus worshipped machines as gods.

They knew all the steps:

Applying Sacred Oil in a specific sequence to designated Bearings;

Chanting the Awakening Invocation of the corresponding model at a precise pitch;

Purifying the potentially contaminated Machine Spirit's Dwelling with incense.

They might know where the problem lay.

But between "knowing" and "being permitted to act" lay millennia of tradition and unquestionable Scripture.

Disassembly, investigation, and especially fundamental diagnostics of the internal structure of a "Holy Relic."

Could all be seen as blasphemy and transgression against the mysteries of the Machine God.

They were trapped within their own grand cognitive framework.

And Rovi, as a transmigrator, possessed something they had long lost and deliberately avoided—

A simple, unadulterated understanding of physics that directly addressed the core of the problem, untainted by theological interpretation.

Therefore, the principles of mechanics and engineering knowledge he had learned in his previous life would now serve a unique purpose.

He decided to fix that machine.

As long as he could fix the "Holy Relic" that even the Tech-Priests were helpless against, he would have the protection of the Adeptus Mechanicus.

At that point, even Kais would not dare to touch someone the Adeptus Mechanicus considered a "confidant of the Machine Spirit."

The Repair Workshop was filled with the smell of Machine Oil and incense.

The tall Model M36 "Redeemer" Harvester lay in the center of the workshop, like a dying steel behemoth.

Its exterior was covered in Scripture and Purity Seals.

Three low-ranking Tech-Priests surrounded it, fumigating its Exhaust Pipe with censers, chanting incantations.

"Omnissiah, quell your wrath..."

"Spirit of the Cog, please turn anew..."

Rovi watched from the shadows for a while.

The problem with this machine was simple.

The Intake Valve was blocked.

The long-term use of Inferior Fuel and Carbon Buildup caused the Piston to seize.

And this group of Tech-Priests were burning incense.

Rovi was not surprised.

Here, knowledge was monopolized, and truth was deified.

These low-level priests stationed in agricultural worlds could only spin in circles defined by the "Holy Scriptures" for their entire lives.

They revered machines but had forgotten to understand them.