Tech-Priest Kallen's artificial eye swept over him. He replied calmly:
"According to the records, seventy-two hours before the rebellion officially broke out, former Governor Lothar von Drake activated the Highest Authority Emergency Asset Transfer Protocol."
"All precious metals, circulating credits, high-value bonds, and movable rare assets were transported to the Starport through a dedicated channel. They were taken aboard three armed freighters registered to Rogue Trader Rake Vance, which left this star system as soon as the rebellion began."
"Huh?!" Fu Haoran sensed something was off.
"The moment the rebellion started—or maybe even before the fighting began—they'd already emptied the family coffers?"
"Don't people usually flee in a panic, bundling up their belongings only when they see the tide has turned and the enemy is at the gates?"
"Who starts moving everything out the moment the fighting begins, certain they're going to lose?"
"Unless..."
Suddenly, all the clues fell into place.
"No wonder the coup went so smoothly... No wonder the old governor's resistance was so halfhearted... No wonder everyone looked at me like I was a piece of meat that had jumped onto the chopping block the moment I walked into that meeting room..."
"Good. Very good." Fu Haoran gritted his teeth.
Wade stood to one side, keeping his eyes lowered and his thoughts to himself.
Suddenly, a guard searching carefully called out from the far corner of the vault, "My lord! There's another hidden door here! It's locked!"
Fu Haoran perked up and hurried over.
The door was set seamlessly into the wall, made of high-density alloy. Ordinary cutting tools wouldn't make a dent in it.
"Priest Kallen, can you open it?"
Kallen stepped forward. A tiny probe extended from one of his mechanical fingers and plugged into a nearly invisible port beside the door.
A few seconds later, there was a soft click, and the lock disengaged.
Behind the door was a small storage room.
Fu Haoran was the first to enter. He glanced around, then froze.
There were no gold or silver treasures inside, as he'd hoped. Instead, there were weapons and armor. But
they were nothing like the standard Imperial equipment he knew.
Several long rifles leaned against the wall. Their streamlined bodies were covered in a dull material resembling biological cartilage, and their muzzles had an odd design.
Several suits of armor hung nearby, their design brutal and menacing. Sharp bone spurs extended from the joints, and their surfaces were patterned like scales.
There was also a pile of devices and parts whose purpose he couldn't identify. They had an organic texture and gave off a faint, unsettling glow.
"What is this...?" Wade followed him in, brows knitted. His hand unconsciously went to the grip of the gun at his waist.
Priest Kallen's electronic eye locked onto the objects, its red light flashing rapidly. His usually cold electronic voice took on a rare note of absolute severity and alarm. "Confirmed: these are artifacts of Xenos Technology."
Clearly, the former governor knew these things were a hot potato, so he hadn't taken them with him.
Fu Haoran looked around. The little hope that had just risen in him sank halfway back down.
Were these things valuable?
On the black market, perhaps they'd fetch a fortune.
But to Fu Haoran, they looked more like a pile of death warrants.
If anyone discovered them, a charge of secretly possessing Xenos Technology would finish him off even faster.
So much for the raid. They'd found nothing but a pile of explosives that could go off at any moment.
"My lord." Wade's voice brought him back to reality, heavy with concern. "I just received an urgent report from the Logistics Department. Since we failed to secure the Promethium Factory, production on the Corpse Starch line has ground to a complete halt."
"The Hive City Central Grain Reserve... has enough to cover the whole city's basic needs for only thirty days. The nobles of the Upper Hive have refused to open their private granaries for sales at affordable prices."
Fu Haoran's heart sank.
If the food ran out, his three-year suspended death sentence might not even last three months.
Unless he took back the Promethium Factory!
"Those nobles are forcing me to take action against the Lower Hive!"
Just as Fu Haoran was getting a headache, a soldier searching the storage room shouted, "My lord, come take a look at this!"
Before Fu Haoran could make out the enormous object in the corner, Tech-Priest Kallen hurried over and gently caressed the machine before him, as though he were stroking a lover.
A system notification popped into Fu Haoran's view:
[Category: Standard Template Construct (STC) - Fragment] [Contents: Plasteel Basic Synthesis and Molding Protocol (Simplified Version)] [Status: Operational (Requires connection to standard power and raw material input ports)] [Maximum Output: 10 tons of standard Plasteel alloy per month]
An STC fragment?!
Fu Haoran's heart leaped with joy.
Even if it was just a fragment, even if its production capacity was pitifully low, he knew all too well what this thing meant to the Empire.
It represented standardization and reliability!
More importantly, the STC before him was basically a 3D printer!
Priest Kallen's artificial eye finished scanning it. For once, his synthesized electronic voice carried a hint of human feeling.
"Confirmed. The physical body is intact, and the basic protocol can be read."
"It retains only the Plasteel smelting and molding functions."
"What a pity. An STC outside the sacred technology catalog is of limited value to the Machine Cult."
In Kallen's eyes, the STC before him was all but useless. In Fu Haoran's, however, it was a treasure.
"The Planetary Defense Force isn't the Astra Militarum, after all. It'll be hard to get armored vehicles from the Empire, let alone main battle tanks."
"If I replace the surface armor on vehicles from the 2K Era with Plasteel, they should be good enough."
"And if I have Precision Manufacturing make some protective gear, that should keep us going for a while."
Fu Haoran's mind raced through the calculations.
Ten tons was just enough to make the main weapon components for an elite infantry platoon, or two light armored cars.
"It's not much, but it's better than nothing."
"Why didn't the previous governor take this with him?" Wade asked, puzzled.
Kallen pointed to a charred mark on the inside of the metal case. "Detected signs of forced data extraction and scorching from a countermeasure program."
"My analysis: someone attempted to crack or transfer the core protocol, triggering the confidentiality countermeasure built into the Machine Cult's design. This damaged part of the data and bound the fragment to a specific authentication code. Unauthorized movement may trigger self-destruction. Hence, it was abandoned."
Fu Haoran understood.
It wasn't that the former governor hadn't wanted to take it. He couldn't—and trying might have left him with a useless wreck.
But for Fu Haoran, that made it an opportunity.
"Wade, pick a squad of the people you trust most—the ones who know how to keep their mouths shut—and have them take over this place."
"From now on, this room is the Governor's Office's highest-security zone. Not even a mosquito gets in without my direct order."
"My lord, are you going to..." Wade seemed to have guessed what he had in mind.
Fu Haoran didn't answer. Instead, he said to the Tech-Priest, "Priest Kallen, prepare a set of portable tools for me, and bring over the governor's personal Medical Servo-skull."
Ten minutes later, Fu Haoran had changed into casual clothes. A silver-gray Medical Servo-skull hovered beside him.
The skull's surface was engraved with the gear emblem of the Mechanicus Cult. Four precision Mechanical Arms extended from its sides, their tips glowing with a pale blue energy.
He opened the system interface:
[Skill: Cross-Dimensional Travel] [Status: Ready] [Point Cost: 100]
He clicked confirm.
His vision warped. The dimness of the governor's office faded, replaced by a familiar ceiling.
He was back in the 2K Era, in a rented apartment in the Eagle Nation.
Fu Haoran was just about to get out of bed and make some money when a system notification suddenly filled the screen:
[Detected a highly compatible Hive World (not colonized by the Empire)] [Side Quest Triggered—The Great Foundation] [Quest Requirements: Establish a core industry on this Hive World (food processing, energy distribution, or commodity trade); achieve stable production capacity and lay the foundations for supplying a Hive City in the Warhammer Universe] [Quest Rewards: Universal Points +5000, unlock permission for bulk interworld transport of supplies]
Fu Haoran abruptly sat up, staring out the window in disbelief.
The street below was in the Eagle Nation, bustling with traffic. There wasn't a trace of a Hive City's gloom.
"System, get your eyes checked! This is the Eagle Nation, not a Hive World!"
Before you continue