I, a Sub-divine Level Lifeform, Am Desperately Short of Money

"This energy shield really burns through dark energy batteries."

A medium Transport Ship returning fully laden.

Yang Ming fondly fiddled with the Shield Gloves, the Lightsaber Flashlight, and the set of dark gray advanced combat armor, voicing admiration again and again.

Kolev sat in the pilot's seat, humming a tune as he examined the various Control Panels, in an exceptionally good mood.

In the back seat, the two middle-aged uncles stared fervently at Yang Ming in the copilot's seat.

In the corner of the rear cabin, Milili, with swollen lips and eyes, admired the photos projected from her watch, bursting into laughter from time to time. She had completely lost the ladylike air she had when they first met.

"Oh, Hanton!"

One of the middle-aged uncles could not stop praising him. "How did you do it? There were more than a dozen of them, and they only hit you a few times!"

Yang Ming merely smiled without answering.

Since he could not appear too shockingly extraordinary, he had deliberately taken several scratch-like attacks with his back.

The two unimportant uncles continued their praise:

"Your fighting skills are simply incredible! I can't imagine how monstrous you'd be with a Lightsaber in hand!"

"I saw Milili getting ganged up on, and you, Hanton, just grabbed a steel pipe and charged in! Oh, right—Milili, how are your injuries?"

Milili covered the swollen half of her face and asked innocently, "I was injured?"

The three people in the back row laughed together.

Kolev laughed and scolded, "Enough, you lot. Crude and vulgar, with none of the grace and composure professional pirates ought to have. What era is this, and you're still brawling in the streets? That's extremely unwise! Think about it—how many great captains died on ordinary streets? Haven't those lessons been enough?"

Milili gazed at Yang Ming with fiery eyes. "Can you teach me fighting skills, Uncle Hanton?"

"Well..."

Yang Ming looked at Kolev.

That would cost extra.

"What an excellent Group Leader needs isn't to charge into battle, but to oversee the bigger picture," Kolev patiently instructed. "Remember this, Milili: winning a verbal spat brings no tangible benefit. When facing an enemy, you must remain calm, rational, and elegant. Only then will your companions find you reliable."

Milili nodded thoughtfully.

Honestly, if Yang Ming had not witnessed the following scene half an hour later on the bridge of their own Pirate Ship, he might have actually believed the old man's words.

Kolev had rolled up his sleeves and grabbed a large wrench. His old face was flushed red, his beard bristling as he pointed at the Projection screen before him and cursed furiously:

"Keep your little lamb Leodun under control! She was the one who insulted my daughter first! I want to shove that big nose of yours up your own ass! When I was raiding New Federation merchant ships, you were still running errands and doing chores aboard my ship! Fuck your mother! If you want to fight, then fight!"

The hulking man on the Projection screen was no less aggressive.

"Kolev, you old bastard! You must have fallen for the big asses of those Kor Port prisoners! Hahaha! This isn't your era anymore, Kolev! Gimo is ten times stronger than you! Ten times!"

"Charge the main cannon!"

"Charge all cannons!"

"Fuck it! Let's take them on!"

The toothless old sailor swiftly activated the shield.

"Kill these shameless bastards! They need to be taught a lesson! Let them know who the hell I am!"

The elderly woman in an apron lit up the fire-control button.

The bridges on both sides immediately became frantically busy.

Yang Ming grabbed the Lightsaber hanging at his waist and said in a low voice, "Give me an Assault Boat and two space breathing apparatuses. Put all power into the shield!"

The lively bridge fell silent for two seconds.

Then it became noisy again, filled with vulgar curses.

Kolev cursed for quite some time before cutting off communications with the other ship.

The two Pirate Ships, wrapped in their shields, faced off for a moment before slowly backing away, their cannon barrels aimed at each other. They gradually accelerated out of the effective range of the other side's ion main cannons and hypersonic missiles.

Yang Ming: ...

So he was the only one who had genuinely planned to take them out?

"This captain has roamed the stars for decades and never lost a shouting match!"

Kolev smugly blew on his beard. Then, seeing Yang Ming's expressionless face, he spread his hands somewhat awkwardly. "That's how pirates get along. You'll have to get used to it."

Yang Ming turned and walked away. "I'm requisitioning the ship's gym. While I'm there, everyone should avoid it if possible. Thank you."

Kolev's old face became animated again as he began recounting the thrilling verbal battles of past years.

Milili watched Yang Ming's departing back and suppressed the urge to chase after him.

She needed to think about how to make this powerful uncle feel closer to her.

"I never expected that getting a ship in a real galactic civilization would be so expensive."

Yang Ming continued to sigh.

He casually toyed with the barbell, its ends bending downward under stacks of metal plates, yet Yang Ming's arms did not sweat at all.

He had locked the gym door and covered the two cameras. Otherwise, he would not have dared to work out like this openly.

I need to train harder.

Valkyrie might appear before him with a blade at any moment, and no matter how powerful a force he built in the future, personal strength would always be the most solid guarantee.

Yang Ming continued mulling over the expensive Black Market prices for those medium-sized Pirate Ships.

A new ship that met his needs actually cost four million Federal Credit.

Even a secondhand ship in decent condition would cost over three million New Federation Credit, and the Black Market did not accept loans or collateral.

Moreover, the biggest costs of a ship lay in its operation and maintenance.

Jump technology involved four steps—determining coordinates, coating the vessel to enter Subspace, opening a jump passage, and performing the spatial jump. The coating process and opening the jump passage required enormous amounts of energy, with rather stringent requirements for energy density.

This meant that any spacecraft equipped with jump capability had to be at least sixty-five meters long.

(Using length to distinguish ships was merely convenient and intuitive. In reality, a vessel's functions and value depended on a great many factors.)

The energy issue was easy enough to solve. There were many "Dyson Cloud" charging stations along the busy star routes of the Milky Way Galaxy. The toll for a normal commercial voyage was roughly one percent of the ship's total price.

But Yang Ming wanted a ship to search for Mech Twilight. That place was remote and far from busy trade routes, which meant his spacecraft needed enough capacity to carry more and better dark-energy reaction batteries, as well as ultra-high-speed engines suited for direct travel.

Ideally, Yang Ming wanted to fly there himself. That would require an expensive assisted piloting system, along with a certain number of hull maintenance robots.

And because of the restrictions imposed by the various Mech protocols of the Milky Way Galaxy, ordinary shipboard robots had their capabilities limited. Fully integrated maintenance robot systems for ships came at a considerable premium.

Yang Ming now somewhat understood why, even after the game Abyss had simplified most operational and acquisition difficulties, only major capital and large conglomerates could afford to play around with warships and legions.

A spaceship was a money shredder!

Yang Ming needed to prepare at least ten million New Federation Credit!

I, a Lesser Ancient God Lifeform, am desperately short on money.

Of course, Yang Ming could recruit a group of cheap crewmen and slaughter them after finding Mech Twilight. But he felt that such behavior went beyond what he could accept.

A person had to have some bottom line.

"Let's figure out how to make money."

Yang Ming shifted the "dumbbell" to his other hand and continued pondering the great matter of earning money.

He actually had quite a few advantages at his disposal:

He was helping out a battered pirate group, and the old Group Leader, Kolev, was quite wealthy;

He had an existing team he could make use of, though half its members were already seventy or eighty years old.

Am I going to become a pirate and rob people next?

Yang Ming frowned as he thought it over.

During this trip to the Black Market, Kolev had helped him buy two crates of Gene Stabilizer, and he had also acquired three pieces of individual combat equipment. He could be considered to possess a certain degree of combat capability now.

Kolev had previously discussed the possibility of cooperation with him. Kolev would formulate a plan, and after Yang Ming helped them, he would receive a substantial reward.

Besides, Yang Ming had already set his sights on a fat sheep. Cutting down that fat sheep would not leave him with the slightest sense of guilt.

"Hanton, can I come in?"

Kolev's voice came through the speaker in the corner.

"Just a moment!"

Yang Ming glanced at the oversized barbell in his hand, hurriedly set it down gently, then stripped off more than half the weight plates. Only then did he calmly reply, "Come in, my wise First Mate!"

"What are you messing around with in here?"

Kolev appeared behind the door with Milili, casting suspicious looks around the room before immediately getting to the point.

"According to my intelligence, Gimo is on his way here. He brought two ships: one is a three-hundred-meter Main Gunboat, my prized creation, the Black Dragon, converted from a decommissioned warship. The other is a versatile combat ship nearly a hundred meters long."

"Oh," Yang Ming said with a smile. "Then we should hurry up and run."

"Yes," Kolev said. "Gimo is a thoroughbred pirate. I rather admire that villainous brute. Since he only brought two ships this time, the people aboard them should all be his trusted men."

Milili's pretty face, still bruised, was filled with frustration.

Yang Ming smiled. "Four years really can change a lot."

Kolev said seriously, "No. Pirates are like this to the bone. They obey the strong and fear the strong. The others are probably waiting for Gimo and me to determine the victor, just like the old and new lion kings changing places in a pride."

"So what are you planning to do? Don't worry, my elderly First Mate. For the sake of those two crates of Gene Stabilizer, I'll help you deal with some trouble."

"I just ran through a plan in my head," Kolev said. "I have an excellent hiding place, a fallback route I've prepared for years. I need to get hold of some parts to upgrade this ship before I can possibly face them head-on, but that will take some time."

Yang Ming thought for a few seconds. "Is there any way to draw them into a ground battle?"

"That is not a good idea," Kolev said. "A Main Gunboat hovering in low orbit over a planet holds overwhelming dominance. Ion cannons suffer some loss in the atmosphere, but as long as the atmosphere is softened first, they can still unleash considerable power. We can only run for now."

Yang Ming folded his arms and asked with a frown, "So what is the problem right now?"

"Before we make the jump, I need to have a conversation with Gimo."

Kolev said:

"They all used to follow me. Every ship they sail was modified by my own hands. I have to make that clear and claim the moral high ground. Plenty of stubborn old pirates care about such things. That's the only way to pry apart their already fragile ties.

"Can you help me play the part of a new face, Hanton's temporary First Mate?

"You only need to wear a metal mask and let them know I'm cultivating fresh blood. That will be enough."

Yang Ming rubbed the tip of his nose and pointed at the metal block beside him that looked like gym equipment.

"Do you need me to hold those things up behind you? How about some more direct intimidation and a show of force?"

Kolev's forehead instantly filled with black lines.

Oh, these stupid tall muscleheads!

"Don't dress too conspicuously. A First Mate who's always stealing the captain's spotlight is unqualified!"