After leaving the conference room, Fu Haoran found the Tech-Priest Kallen.
The latter naturally knew Fu Haoran's purpose in coming.
Kallen's prosthetic eye instantly glowed red, projecting weapon compatibility analysis data onto the holographic screen. Her metallic voice carried a devout praise of Omnissiah:
"My lord, Omnissiah bears witness that these weapons from this Garden World, though rudimentary in design, contain surprisingly potent Machine Spirit potential."
He first pointed to the first page of data, giving everyone the most intuitive understanding of the intensity:
" The Mark III Iron Power Armour worn by the Iron Warriors Legion is currently the top-tier heavy armor designed specifically for siege warfare during the Great Crusade."
"The armor plates have been thickened in the shin, forearm, thigh, chest, and abdomen areas, and combined with larger shoulder armor and a sturdier helmet, they can effectively prevent damage from ammunition."
"Because the chest armor is very thick, there is no reinforcement on the back. This makes the armor very suitable for frontal confrontation and combat in confined and narrow environments."
"The equivalent thickness of the homogeneous steel armor on the frontal sternum exceeds the frontal depleted uranium armor protection level of the M1A1 main battle tank in this Garden World."
Even the relatively thinner top armor has an equivalent homogeneous steel armor thickness of 600 millimeters.
" Space Marine wearing this armor can smash a heavy truck head-on at 60 kilometers per hour without sustaining any damage to the armor."
"His neural reaction speed is twenty times that of an ordinary person, and his strength and endurance are more than 30 times the limits of an ordinary person."
Even though Fu Haoran was mentally prepared, he still gasped.
This isn't a soldier; it's practically a humanoid main battle tank.
Kallen abruptly changed the subject, her prosthetic arm rapidly typing on the Data Pad, bringing up weapon modification plans:
"But that doesn't mean the mortal troops are completely defenseless."
"We only need to make targeted modifications to the weapons in this Garden World to achieve a qualitative leap."
Father Priest Kallen believed this.
He was absolutely certain that this era, which seemed to be the nascent stage of humanity's golden age, would bring about the miracle of Omnissiah.
Kallen continued, "Based on my comparison, the 14.5mm anti-aircraft machine gun used in this Garden World called Blue Star has a muzzle velocity of 1,005 meters per second and a muzzle energy exceeding 30,000 joules, far surpassing the Empire's standard-issue Autogun."
"All we need to do is bless the barrel, replace the Machine Cult bullets with high-fuel propellant, and awaken the weapon's Machine Spirit, and its performance will completely overwhelm the Planetary Defense Force's standard equipment, easily penetrating their Carapace Armour."
"For armored units, the PF98 120mm rocket launcher in this world has a native armor penetration depth of over 800mm of homogeneous steel, capable of penetrating the side and rear armor of the Leman Russ Tank."
"With a shaped charge warhead made using Melta shaped charge formula, it can cause effective damage even to frontal armor."
"Third, and most importantly, the plan targeting the Space Marine."
" The Javelin Anti-Tank Missile of this world has a native top-attack mode that can penetrate over 1,100 millimeters of homogeneous steel."
"Originally, it was very difficult to penetrate the front of the Mark III's Power Armour, but with the addition of our newly activated Melta explosive technology, the modified warhead can achieve an armor penetration depth of over 2,800 millimeters."
"This specification far exceeds the defensive capabilities of the shoulder armor of the Mark III Power Armour."
"This is currently the only low-cost and highly feasible solution for mortal forces to fight against Space Marine."
Kallen flipped the projector and added:
"In addition, Blue Star's satellite positioning system, combined with individual digital radios, offers positioning accuracy and anti-jamming capabilities far exceeding the simple communication beads commonly used in the Imperial Hive City."
"The infrared night vision device's performance is on par with the Planetary Defense Force's standard sights, far surpassing the civilian modified version from Hive City Workshop."
"Most importantly, even without STC, we can obtain a large quantity of these equipment as long as they place an order."
This was also what surprised Priest Kallen the most.
Even without STC, this era still boasts astonishing production volumes.
Could this be considered the nascent stage of humanity's golden age?
" Omnissiah testifies that this Garden World must be a remnant of Dark Age of Technology, a gift from the Omnissiah."
Kallen closed the Data Pad and bowed slightly to Fu Haoran:
"My lord, the Machine Spirit bears witness that although these weapons are designed... somewhat outdated, they are perfectly suited to our current battlefield needs."
"This is the only solution that can close the gap between us and the Seven Hive Alliance in a short period of time."
Fu Haoran didn't hesitate and immediately decided. "The core task next is to establish a complete military procurement, modification, and transportation system in this... Garden World."
"High-precision machine tools, individual weapons, anti-tank equipment, and communication equipment should all be prioritized for procurement."
"Use the resources of the Hive City to trade for equipment from this Garden World, and then use the weapons and equipment from the Garden World to win our war."
Fu Haoran said earnestly, "Furthermore, although those Genestealers will have to be eliminated sooner or later, I don't want to see guerrilla warfare degenerate into primitive tactics of commanding suicide charges."
"I want to inflict maximum damage on the enemy with minimal cost."
"We'll wear them down little by little, and devour them bit by bit."
"Therefore, Priest Kallen, I hope that you will fully cooperate with my renovation and upgrade plan from now on."
Banyan City.
A bowl of beef noodles sat in front of Cheng Beixiao, next to a printed document of his surrender.
The phone number of the lawyer I had already found was in my phone.
He still didn't believe it.
A recent college graduate signed a contract worth tens of millions and received a salary and commission of 500,000. What else could this be but a fraudulent company?
He picked up his chopsticks, about to eat his noodles, when his phone rang.
Zhang Xiangyang's voice boomed from the receiver. "Xiao Cheng! Thank you so much!"
"The ore test results are in, and the quality is even better than Australia ore! I'm treating everyone tonight at the Peace Hotel; all the bigwigs will be there, you have to come!"
Cheng Beixiao was completely stunned.
Before I could even react, the CEOs of Baowu and HBIS Group called me one after another.
All I heard were expressions of gratitude and invitations. Everyone was saying that the ore was genuine, of top quality, and that the contract would continue.
His hands trembled as he opened the bank's app.
A new SMS notification popped up: [Your account ending in xxxx has received RMB 4.2 million. Note: Project commission.]
With the addition of his previous salary of several hundred thousand, he now has nearly five million in his account.
Cheng Beixiao sat in the noodle shop, staring at his phone screen, hot tears falling onto the screen.
He's only been working for six months and already has 5 million in savings?!
Cheng Beixiao recalled that three months ago, he stayed up until the early hours of the morning in his rented room looking at job postings, but he couldn't even scrape together next month's rent.
I remember my first internship, when the purchasing manager yelled at me and I didn't even dare to lift my head.
Thinking back to last night, he had written his confession and figured out how to explain himself to the police.
It's not a dream.
Did I not join a fraudulent company?
Cheng Beixiao wiped his face, picked up the now soggy beef noodles, and ate them in big mouthfuls.
I drank every last drop of the noodle soup, and it felt like all my strength had finally returned.
He went home that very night.
It wasn't too late when the key was inserted into the lock.
The living room light was still on. Cheng Beixiao pushed open the door and saw his parents sitting on the sofa.
"You're back?" His mother stood up and looked him up and down. "Didn't you say you were going on a business trip? Why are you back so suddenly? Did something happen at work?"
Relieved, Cheng Beixiao smiled and said, "No, my business trip was just canceled at the last minute, so I came back."
As he spoke, Cheng Beixiao took out his phone from his pocket, scrolled to his bank statement, and handed it over.
"Mom, Dad, I got my salary."
The mother took the phone, squinted at it for a long time, and then handed it to the father.
"Old Cheng, you have sharp eyes, can you tell how many digits are in this number?"
The father stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and took the phone. He stared at the screen, his thumb tapping the numbers one by one.
Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousand, hundred thousand.
With a salary of 70,000 plus various subsidies, it actually amounted to 100,000!
His fingers paused for a moment, then he brought the phone closer and counted again.
"One hundred thousand?" His voice was a little dry. "This is... a month's worth?"
Cheng Beixiao nodded, then shook his head. "It's usually 70,000; we only get that number when we're busy with business trips."
Cheng Beixiao offered a slightly modest response.
The mother snatched the phone back, looked at it again, and her eyes immediately welled up with tears.
"My son earns 70,000 a month? 70,000?"
She stood up, took a couple of steps around the living room, sat back down, and then stood up again.
The father didn't say anything, but reached for the cigarette pack on the coffee table. He searched for a long time but couldn't find it, because the cigarette pack was right next to him.
Cheng Beixiao handed him the cigarette case. He took out a cigarette, but didn't light it. He held it between his fingers, his lips trembling slightly.
"Didn't you say... when you first started, the basic salary was seven thousand?" The father finally spoke, his voice very low.
"I thought they gave me the wrong amount at the time, but I didn't expect it to really be this much." Cheng Beixiao didn't dare to tell the truth, because he didn't believe it either at the time.
"There's... there's also a commission?" The mother's voice changed. "You said before that your company also offers commissions?"
Cheng Beixiao didn't dare mention the commission, and only hummed in agreement.
The mother gripped her phone, staring intently at the bank statement, looking at it over and over again more than a dozen times.
"Old Cheng, take a look. Are the words on this real? Or could they be photoshopped?"
The father didn't reply, but simply stood up, walked to the balcony, and turned his back to the living room.
Cheng Beixiao noticed that his father's shoulders were shaking.
It's not crying.
She was holding back her tears.
His mother finally returned the phone to him, took his hand, and squeezed it tightly.
"Bei Xiao, tell Mom honestly, your company... isn't doing anything illegal, is it?"
"No."
"Really not?"
"It's really not."
His mother stared at him for several seconds, then nodded, let go of his hand, and turned to go to the kitchen.
"Mom heated up your food; you probably haven't eaten yet."
Cheng Beixiao sat on the sofa, looking at his mother's back, and then at his father's back on the balcony.
He remembered Uncle Zhang from next door, who would boast to everyone that his son earned over ten thousand yuan a month.
He recalled a family gathering during the Chinese New Year when his second aunt asked him what he studied and how easy it was to find a job. His mother smoothed things over by saying, "It's alright, it's alright."
Holding his hand, Cheng's mother repeatedly urged him, "Son, this is such a good job, you must do it well, don't be careless, and live up to the salary your boss gives you!"
Cheng's father added, "A man should prioritize his career. Jobs are tough these days. You have to do whatever the boss says. The boss's word is law; if he tells us to go east, we'll never go west!"
Cheng Beixiao nodded heavily.
Just then, Cheng Beixiao's work phone rang. He took it out and saw that it was a new task:
[I. Contact domestic machine tool manufacturers to procure high-precision five-axis CNC machining centers, CNC lathes, and grinding machines, prioritizing military-grade equipment.]
[We will liaise with domestic defense companies to procure heavy weapons for individual soldiers, anti-tank missiles, optical sights, and communication equipment, with the procurement volume planned according to the standard of a full-scale brigade.]
[Ensure compliance throughout the entire procurement, transportation, and export process; provide a complete solution within one week.]
Bei Xiao stared at the Manifest, completely dumbfounded.
He was thankful he wasn't in jail yesterday, and today his boss wants him to buy military-grade machine tools and anti-tank missiles?
These things are strictly regulated in the country; they can't be bought simply with money.
He held the Manifest, his hand trembled uncontrollably twice, and his heart began to pound again.
But the next second, he remembered how the steel mill bosses addressed him as "Director Cheng," and the nearly five million yuan in commission in his account.
He took a deep breath, printed out the Manifest, and gritted his teeth.
His boss gave him a chance, so he couldn't back down.
No matter how difficult it is, we must get this done.
"Mom and Dad, the company has assigned me new work, I have to go."
The mother glanced at the time; it was already past 9 p. m.
"It's so late..."
Cheng Beixiao laughed and said, "Mom, a monthly salary of 70,000 yuan isn't so easy to earn. The company requires me to be on call 24 hours a day, and they even bought me a plane ticket, a first-class one. If I don't work hard, why should I get this job?"
Cheng's mother thought so too, so she stopped trying to persuade her.
A few days later, in the Imperial Capital, in the confidential conference room of the National Security Bureau.
Old Zhou slammed Cheng Beixiao's purchase Manifest on the table.
"Military-grade five-axis machine tool, anti-tank missile, military-grade night vision device..."
He turned the pages one by one, his voice growing deeper with each turn.
"These are all export controlled items. What would a major general in the Amerikan National Guard need these things for?"
Qin Zhengfeng adjusted his glasses. "He broke Australia's iron ore monopoly, saving domestic steel mills hundreds of billions. For that alone, we should repay this favor."
"Returning a favor?" Someone suddenly stood up, his chair sliding back half a meter before hitting the wall with a thud. "Old Qin, wake up! This isn't about favors!"
"He's a Chinese man, a major general in Amerikan, runs a tram factory, controls mines in South America, and now he wants to buy military equipment. Tell me, what is he going to do with all this stuff?"
There was a moment of silence in the conference room.
Someone chimed in, "We've investigated; his National Guard budget simply can't support such a large procurement volume."
"These things are most likely not intended for Amerikan."
Old Zhou turned around and stared at the person who spoke, "If it's not for Amerikan, then who is it for? Who is it for?!"
Suddenly someone spoke up, "Do you think he really wants to amass an army and start an independence movement...?"
Everyone:...
When someone mentioned it last time, they laughed it off.
When someone brought it up this time, they were a little scared, but also a little... hopeful.
If someone actually did this, regardless of whether it succeeded or not, it would definitely deserve a separate chapter in history books.
The family genealogy can no longer contain this great deity.
If this were to succeed, world history would probably need its own separate book.
As for selling off the equipment and technology... haha, it's not that they look down on people, but those who know how to use it may not value it, and those who do value it may not know how to use it.
Old Zhou took a deep breath and said, "It's not that I don't want to help him."
"But have you considered that the equipment he purchased all exceeds civilian standards in terms of precision, performance, and specifications?"
"A five-axis CNC machine tool can be used to machine aircraft engine blades."
"Even the oldest anti-tank missiles can penetrate the frontal armor of active main battle tanks."
He turned around and looked at Qin Zhengfeng.
"Old Qin, you say he helped the country, and we should repay the favor. I have no objection. But we need to have a bottom line on how to repay this favor and how much to repay."
"He said it was for security at the mine, do you believe him?"
Qin Zhengfeng was silent for a few seconds, picked up the teacup, blew on the foam, didn't drink it, and put it down again.
"I don't believe it," he said.
The meeting room fell silent once more.
"But my disbelief doesn't mean we can't sell." Qin Zhengfeng looked up at Old Zhou. "What I mean is, selling is fine, but we can't sell it so directly."
"What's the meaning?"
Qin Zhengfeng suddenly smiled and said, "We can skirt the rules and sell within the legal scope."