(Thank you, Son of the Round Clam, Pete Griffin, for the donation. Bonus chapter 30/50.)
Li Qinwu browsed through the battleships as vessels of every size flashed across the holographic projector.
The Imperium had far too many types of warships, broadly divided into:
Under 1 kilometer long: armed merchant ships and destroyers, worth around 5 million Thrones. Those capable of entering the Warp soared to 8 million.
1 to 3 kilometers long: frigates, worth 10 to 20 million.
Light cruisers: 3 to 4 kilometers, around 70 million.
Standard cruisers: 4 to 6 kilometers, around 100 million.
Battlecruisers: 6 to 8 kilometers, around 500 million.
Battleships: 8 to 12 kilometers, over 2 billion.
Supercapital ships: over 15 kilometers, above 5 billion.
Special warships: Primarch flagships, Gloriana-class Battleships, 24 kilometers. Fill in the price yourself.
Mechanical Arks: around 30 kilometers. No price could be put on them.
Non-warship celestial bodies:
Star Fortresses: around 90 kilometers. Impossible to afford.
The Mountain Array: a celestial body roughly 300 kilometers in diameter. The technology had been lost, so it could no longer be built.
Li Qinwu checked his own pockets. His current wealth stood at 130 million.
That money had been accumulated from Golden Road's repair work over this period, along with sales of Lasguns and Power Swords, Little Sun's ransom, and tea sales.
It looked like 130 million could buy him a cruiser—a 6-kilometer ship, huh.
But then he saw the construction times listed behind the ships. A 6-kilometer standard cruiser took two centuries to build.
Li Qinwu immediately leaned back in a tactical recline. Two hundred years? Fuck your mother!
In two hundred years, old Li would be shriveled up like a raisin. He wouldn't be able to fight anymore and would be checking into Sunshine Nursing Home. What the hell would he