Chapter 1245: NO.149: The mutual hint of talking past each other like chickens and ducks

NO．149：The mutual hint of talking past each other like chickens and ducks

As the core of the Star Alliance of the present Pan-Universal Union, the might of the Holy Terra Federation's aviation industry can be described in one sentence—

——According to statistics in the relevant field, the Federation sees 2,000 to 6,000 private aerospace companies register each year.

Not to mention how many companies shut down or even go bankrupt for various reasons at the same time; in short, just like the great age of sail and exploration in human history, even though today's interstellar civilization is already so common and so transparent, it often makes Aomo feel the market is saturated, but that is merely his personal view.

Moreover, it is only an occasional thought.

The reality is that there have always been many Federation citizens who believe in the vastness of the universe, believing that it certainly holds endless opportunities, whether for fame and profit, for amusement, or even for dreams—all of which lie within it.

Then they plunge into the endless development of the frontier star systems.

However, this is not merely driven by public opinion; the Federation also gives it a push.

In the long days of peace, with residents living and working in contentment, the annual population increase must be balanced by outward emigration.

Whether heading to other star systems for development or directly rushing to the frontier for exploration, the trend is always accompanied by strong policy benefits, and countless related industries have continued to sprout like spring bamboo shoots; even to this day, it remains a popular career choice for Federation university graduates.

By comparison, although the exploration work related to the "other world" is similarly exploratory, its higher entry barrier and very transparent casualty rate have kept its public support lower than that of the more illusory frontier endeavor.

Although there is no discrimination against the profession itself, because the two directions of "exploring the cosmic frontier" and "exploring the other world" are constantly compared, Aomo's impression of the former is not good.

Simply put, although both sides involve risk and danger, compared to the other-world exploration teams with transparent progress, cosmic frontier development, due to being dominated by private groups, results in being difficult to regulate and monitor, which amounts to an invisible giant maw.

If you pay attention, you can see many people who claim they will join the cosmic frontier development; they usually vanish both in reality and in cyberspace within a month.

Although there are also cases of people feigning death within half a year or a year, there are still those who, even after several decades, have not managed to fake their death.

Such a probability, according to a small survey Aomo once conducted specially, actually comes close to one-half.

Obviously, a large part of this is due to entrusting the wrong people and not choosing a reliable team, but that obviously cannot serve as a reason to improve the impression.

In fact, the parents of little Aomo, who were interstellar mercenaries, had their last words before disappearing also be heading to a frontier star system.

The person concerned said before disappearing that they were going to pursue romance, but those who knew them thought they were merely tricked into going to "mine" or "fill trenches."

This is not exactly rare; even a pure-blood demon among the victims would not be surprising, after all the so-called "development" is all about selling the charm of the unknown, and the charm of the unknown has always been tied to personal imagination, while what remains constant is the ability to satisfy every desire.

Moreover, after years of promoting interstellar frontier development, there happen to be countless success cases that attest to the reality of that charm.

But truth is truth; whether it can happen to you is clearly another matter.

On this point, people obviously have their own views, just like with multi-level marketing: those who don't believe won't go, and those who do go… if you can't persuade them otherwise, all you can do is respect, understand, and wish them well.

But if you ask Aomo whether he blesses that pair of biological parents, he will only give you a scornful look.

And if you ask him whether he blesses the voyagers related to interstellar frontier development, he will likewise likely give you a scornful look.

If it's an acquaintance going, he will at least check out the team they intend to join.

When he first met David, he had once made such a suggestion to him.

Because at that time the two were not yet on intimate terms, and moreover, a cyberpunk-styled outlaw would naturally take to such a distant place as if it were sweet nectar.

But evidently, David·Martinez, who no longer lives for others' goals, has a nature that is not that of an outlaw; even though he has the common human craving for stimulation, it would not be said that he would go so far as to sacrifice his life for it in madness.

The current border gate area is already his most satisfying living environment, and Aomo himself has no reason to raise such a possibility, unless he truly sees such an outlaw appear before his eyes.

He glanced sideways, looking at that woman and also at the mobile storage device she had just taken down from her hand.

"Interstellar pioneering… really a topic so distant as to be somewhat unrealistic." The woman's sigh at this moment instead made him feel surprised.

"Distant in what way?" he asked, because according to what he knew, Holleya should have done sufficient homework for the stage she was about to become active on.

And since she had done enough homework, she should clearly know that the topic of interstellar development is common even within the Federation.

It is one of the key political classic topics that neither middle-aged people nor young people trying to act mature can do without.

In every district of the Federation, the spaceports even have dedicated long-distance transport zones set up for interstellar frontier development, though they are said to be for pick‑up and drop‑off, in practice they are mostly drop‑offs, with few pick‑ups.

For most of the year, the returning vessels are empty ships, resembling a super‑Earth frozen‑meat transport.

Besides that, there are also such technology companies at present.

Private enterprises that design brand‑new vehicles and weapons for frontier development, assisting every pioneer who steps into the invisible maw, while also squeezing money out of their pockets.

In the Federation there are many such companies, and even more that, unable to compete with peers, simply avoid the track and are used as shell companies to cover for other firms.

But the original meaning of a shell company is actually a collective that has no fixed assets, no fixed place of business, and no set number of staff, merely carrying a briefcase to engage in socioeconomic activities.

Yet the ones before us now have fixed members, a fixed place of business and premises, their corporate records look legitimate, and their financial records even contain profit‑and‑loss accounts.

In that case, to call it a shell company would be an overstatement; this firm appears to be seriously researching this matter, to the extent that even Holleya, upon seeing it, finds it hard to utter the above sigh.

Truly a fantastical and distant pursuit.

"Naturally, it's distant for me; I have options right before my eyes, why would I go seek that unknown thing?" The woman's emerald‑like snake eyes gave him a meaningful glance, then she followed the line of his neck, shoulders, and arms to look at his index finger, which he had withdrawn from in front of the screen.

"So this is settled?" she asked.

She knew that Aomo held a monster card named Gilbalis in his hand, and for this kind of online, data‑level operation he could display astonishing ability and efficiency; the oddly shaped 'USB drive' in her hand at the moment was thus loaded with the fruits of his work.

The so‑called quick battle, quick decision, aiming to return to work as soon as possible, largely relies on that finger.

"Of course, the traces are clear, and I even helped them revise their original project plan."

"? Is that necessary? Adding legs to a snake can become a flaw, you know."

"It won't come to such a low‑level mistake." Aomo replied irritably.

"But the main income of this lot surely has nothing to do with frontier development design; they're just making money off whatever those Luzas are…" she said, glancing at the screen's record of monster‑meat sales.

To not sell live creatures but instead process and sell beast meat—this is beyond her knowledge, and she feels the need to redefine the monster‑industry circle.

"Why bother giving them optimized results?"

"Who said it was optimized?"

"Negative optimization?" Upon hearing this, Holleya's interest sparked, she curled the corner of her mouth and asked, "What do you want to do?"

"Considering that their cargo, which they are simultaneously assisting in transporting and selling, contains the dangerous thing called blood globes, appropriate stimulation can cause them to regenerate from dormancy."

"... That sounds dangerous; don't you care about harming the innocent?"

"Do you still remember Lars? That vampire you saw before."

"Your senior? Oh~" Holleya reacted quickly, instantly realizing, "His club seems to be in charge of blood‑bank classification?"

Aomo gave a slight nod.

Not a bad opportunity; let's see if he can seize it.