Your most important daily task was to inspect the defenses of the military district's walls and the overall production status of the industrial district.
"My lord, this year's population census has been completed." The city's administrative minister knocked on the door and delivered the news from outside.
"Good. Ai Weide, come in. How many people do we have this year? The population numbers will help the craftsmen keep production on track."
Owen watched as the administrative minister entered carrying a stack of papers. Ai Weide then handed Owen a brief report, placing the remaining detailed documents on Owen's desk.
"This year, our city has a population of twenty-four million, approximately two million fewer than ten years ago."
"Because of the expansion beyond our borders?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Very well, I understand. Go attend to your work."
Owen watched Ai Weide leave and let out a sigh. Ten years of outward expansion, fighting those damned monsters for so long—many people had died, yet few new settlements had been established.
But what else could he do? The craftsmen said the machines in the factory district were already too old. Without new parts and machines to replace them, food shortages and production collapse were only a matter of time.
Fortunately, during ten years of expansion, they had recovered many unused machines from the ruins outside, allowing the craftsmen to patch up the factory district for now. But Owen knew this could never be a long-term solution.
"What should I do? Will the glory of my ancestors be lost in my generation..." Owen sighed, covering his face with both hands in melancholy.
Then he heard something in the sky. A red object was tearing through the atmosphere, rapidly falling toward the ground.
The light of the explosion dyed the sky at the horizon red,