Chapter 1: Loyalty! Not Going!

Brain? What brain? Five-Eyed Blue Bird, don't get in the way of me TM chopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchopchop!!!

The end of the 41st millennium.

Misty Star Region, some Nest City.

Heavy black clouds cover the entire continent, pale‑blue ice crystals drift down, accompanying the towering Nest City that pierces the distant sea of clouds, falling into the endless trenches.

Before it can melt, a pair of military boots step down, a crisp click, crushing it into powder.

Xisi, dressed in a Planetary Defense Force regiment commander uniform, his young face under the wide‑brimmed hat lifts slightly as he looks at the dense ice crystals overhead.

He reaches out, the ice crystals melt; even through the gloves, the bone‑piercing cold still penetrates the skin into the marrow.

He winces, inhales sharply; the air feels like an ice blade scraping his throat, making him frown.

Feeling the acute pain, Xisi suddenly clamps his right hand and crushes the ice crystal in his palm.

"Huang......"

"Emperor, that old man, really brought me here......"

Under the wide‑brimmed hat, Xisi's face shows utter helplessness; in his heart he wants to address the Emperor as "Huangpizi", but he dares not say it aloud.

After all, he usually only shouts loyalty online, never actually thought of going!

Now, after waking, Xisi finds himself in the glorious, great, bright Human Empire.

And he has become a lowly regiment commander of the Planetary Defense Force in this Nest City world, able to faithfully serve the Emperor.

But seeing the Star Realm Army Political Commissar waiting not far away, Xisi's helplessness turns into a despair worse than death.

The Political Commissar's icy eyes lock onto Xisi; Xisi forces himself to swallow the final breath, then grits his teeth and steps onto the trench frozen solid, marching toward the commissar.

"Regiment 101 Regiment Commander Xisi, reporting to you!"

'Clack!' a hard boot strikes the solid ice as Xisi stands upright and salutes.

The Political Commissar's cold gaze does not change; after scanning Xisi several times and confirming the young man shows no sign of disloyalty, he raises his hand in return:

"I remind you that you and your regiment will launch an attack on the Rebel Forces' positions in half an hour; this is not a request, but an order!"

Xisi's peripheral glance falls on the enemy positions in the distance; even though he's mentally prepared, his eyes twitch involuntarily.

The ever‑ready fortifications, built with massive amounts of plastic steel, are riddled with fire‑points.

In front of the fortifications lies an endless sea of corpses covering the ground, leaving no place to stand.

What Xisi sees in his peripheral vision is only a fragment, yet the death toll already far exceeds his entire regiment.

Xisi feels bitter inside, but dares not show any expression; after all, in the eyes of the Star Realm Army, planetary defense units are not even considered cannon fodder, calling them consumables would be a compliment.

For example, in some defensive battles, the combat is clearly carried out by local troops together with Imperial Troops, but after victory, the planetary defense units that suffered the most casualties are not even worthy of being mentioned by name.

And while victory may go unmentioned, failure is treated as a scapegoat.

Likewise, when communication cannot be guaranteed on the battlefield, the planetary defense unit responsible for communications becomes the ultimate cause of all problems, and is later executed en masse to placate the higher‑ups.

It can be said that facing the higher‑ranked Star Realm Army, Xisi has no right to object, nor is he allowed to raise any objection.

Seeing that Xisi has 'no' questions, the Political Commissar finally nods in satisfaction.

"Prepare your men; in half an hour I want to see you storm out of the trench."

Xisi snaps back, his gaze instinctively returns to his soldiers.

A group of terrified people huddle in the trench, their bodies lacking even a piece of plastic‑steel armor; their uniforms are thin to the point of horror, let alone protection against the severe cold!

The charge is imminent, yet the whole regiment doesn't even have a single campfire for warmth, so the soldiers can only huddle together, trembling as they exhale onto their pale hands.

The Political Commissar prepares to leave; Xisi quickly reaches out and blocks him.

The commissar stops, frowns in displeasure at Xisi, the fleeting melt of ice in his eyes disappears and returns.

Xisi feels speechless, unsure where his courage came from.

But having already extended his hand, he hurriedly stands upright and salutes:

"Report, sir, I wish to request some Phosphorus fuel for the soldiers, to keep them warm before battle!"

The words cause not only the commissar to freeze, but also the surrounding soldiers to stare at Xisi in shock.

The Political Commissar scrutinizes Xisi, confirming that his only thought is this, not a delay of the attack, and his brows relax.

Yet his gaze remains icy:

"The Empire's supplies are precious and must not be wasted on unnecessary matters."

After responding, the commissar ignores Xisi and the nearby soldiers, walking straight through the crowd toward the distance.

Xisi reluctantly withdraws his hand, looks back at the surrounding soldiers; although they still wear shocked faces, some now show a hint of goodwill.

Lacking the strength to continue feigning paternal care, Xisi merely listens to the first bugle from the trench, marking five minutes have passed, quickly wraps his still‑warm military coat tighter and finds a more crowded spot to lie down.

"Twenty‑five minutes left; a second of pleasure is a second."

Xisi lies flat, ready to slack off, but just as he lies down, a line of subtitles suddenly appears before his eyes.

"Hundredfold Amplification? Anything I personally take part in will receive hundredfold feedback?"

Xisi mutters subconsciously, digesting the information, then, after a brief shock, silently recites a few names in his mind:

"Huangpizi? Terrifying Old Two? Blue Bird?......"

After finishing the list, Xisi quickly closes his eyes, waiting for any possible big‑ear slap, but after a long wait it remains silent; only then does he slowly open his eyes, confirming it's not some big boss's joke.

His previously relaxed eyes brighten again, and Xisi reads it once more:

"Everything hundredfold?"

He thinks, reaches out, and squeezes a piece of solid ice that only leaves a white mark when struck with an engineer's shovel.

With a slight force, the solid ice cracks!

Xisi's breath suddenly feels heavy, pauses briefly, then grips his sidearm, loading and unloading it in his hand.

The speed is such that even the nearby soldiers show no reaction.

The soldiers are merely curious: when did their regiment commander put a gun in his hand?

Feeling the soldiers nearby giving him bewildered, frozen looks, Xisi slowly withdrew his sidearm.

"Strength, reaction, and speed have all increased by Hundredfold, yet I keep feeling that this Hundredfold isn't that simple..."

Xisi pondered, his eyes scanning continuously; after a moment of thought, his gaze suddenly landed on the numb soldiers beside him.

"Whenever I take part, there's Hundredfold feedback..."

"What if I have them train under me?"

Xisi's eyes suddenly brightened, and with the training came an even bolder notion.

"Since training can be Hundredfold, if I lead them through a battle, does that mean each of them is..."

"Hundred‑battle veteran?!"