Chapter 59: Hope Is the Empire's Poison

Away from the void of Oumia No. 3.

After an A-space Fluctuation, the escort ship surged into real space.

Although it was only a hyper‑short jump from one star system to another, seeing such a huge deviation from the planned coordinates made Xisi, standing on the Bridge, feel a lingering dread.

Such a blind jump, unless the Divine Emperor himself assists as navigator, is a gamble of 'your gun has no bullet' every time without a navigator!

At this moment, on the Bridge.

When it was confirmed that they were only a bit farther from Oumia No. 3 and everything else was normal, Xisi and the others on the Bridge finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Check for damage, adjust course, and bring us back to Oumia No. 3 immediately."

Xisi issued the order directly, and the crew, unable to rest, immediately threw themselves into the frantic work.

He kept glancing toward the rear, a faint fear flickering in his eyes.

That direction leads from Oumia No. 3 toward the Unbreakable Defense Line, but now it offers no safety at all; moreover, the terrifying Terran Fleet is right on its heels.

Xisi also sensed the crew's subtle unease; perhaps only his two thousand Black Watch members aboard the escort ship remained calm.

Only when everyone else was busy did Daiweiluo, who had been standing in the corner, finally come forward.

"No navigator—what do you plan to do next?"

Without a navigator, there's no way out; returning to Oumia No. 3 now merely postpones death.

But Xisi remained unfazed:

"First return to Oumia No. 3, send a message to the outside via the Star Language Hall, saying I'm willing to buy a navigator."

Daiweiluo: "???"

He stared in confusion, not needing to speak; the meaning was already clear:

"Who's selling?"

Xisi, however, gazed out the viewport at the ever‑expanding Oumia No. 3 and the towering gaseous giant behind it, recalling another faction of Oukta Liusi in his mind.

Merchant Ronin!

Merchant Ronin are legally sanctioned pirates with Imperial permission; although they belong to the Empire, they enjoy great autonomy, able to arm merchant convoys with private troops and even form fleets.

That group trades almost anything, buying and selling as long as the price is right—hiring a navigator isn't out of the question.

Amid the chaos under Oukta Liusi's gaze, a powerful contingent of Merchant Ronin is active.

They currently profit heavily by smuggling refugees from abandoned worlds past the Unbreakable Defense Line, and occasionally, when conditions suit, they dispatch raiders to plunder those forsaken Imperial worlds.

Xisi didn't tell Daiweiluo these details; after all, even if everything could be blamed on the Divine Emperor's protection, too much protection inevitably brings more trouble.

Xisi simply stared at the tiny Oumia No. 3, exhaled, and changed the subject:

"After sending the message, all we can do is hold on."

Daiweiluo didn't press further; he just watched Oumia No. 3, then recalled the overwhelming Terran Fleet behind them, his expression darkening.

A few days later, Oumia ChaoDuTaiding.

In a spacious office, Black Watch stood outside the door while numerous local officials queued inside, faces resigned.

Pairs of eyes kept glancing forward, watching the young man behind the massive ornate desk.

Alongside him stood a Mechanical Monk and the towering Astat.

And the minor noble Youwa, who previously wasn't even allowed into Nest City, now serves as Xisi's assistant in managing the entire Oumia No. 3.

While directing staff to stack towering reports, they handed the summarized list to Xisi.

"We have sent out the information about purchasing a navigator as ordered by the higher‑ups, but so far we've received no response other than distress calls."

Staring at the mountain of reports, Xisi flipped through them while recalling the scene after sending the message; instead of replies, he only heard desperate pleas from countless worlds.

It felt as if any world appearing on the Public Channel, regardless of its condition, would instantly be seized by a flock of drowning people as a straw, clutching it with all their might.

And if you don't respond, even later, when you're cursing the Empire in communications, you'll be dragged in as well.

Xisi brushed aside his scattered thoughts, withdrew his gaze from the heap of reports, then picked up the summary to examine Oumia No. 3's specifics.

Without a navigator, Xisi must find a way to turn the entire Oumia No. 3 into a fortress that faces the Terran Fleet head‑on!

He lifted his front foot to look, and his back foot made him frown.

Even a hint of disbelief rose; Xisi looked at Youwa:

"Oumia No. 3 now has only 1.6 billion people?"

Youwa's face showed resignation, a flash of bitterness as she glanced at the queue of officials behind her before explaining:

"Oumia is merely a satellite; its original population was only about five billion. With external communications cut off, Oumia No. 3 simply cannot sustain such a massive populace."

In that brief sentence, Xisi seemed to glimpse what the people of Oumia No. 3 had endured.

He didn't press further; Xisi skipped the item and moved on, his brow tightening even more.

"No starch reserves?"

A puzzled head lifted, and before Xisi could ask what they'd eat without reserves, Youwa answered:

"Mainly we rely on scarce chemical waste and… relatively sufficient biological remains."

Xisi halted again; although this is typical of the Empire, he felt an inexplicable urge to curse.

He kept his head down until he saw the industrial output, then he exhaled slightly relieved.

"We can still mass‑produce Rifles and cannons on top of the previous two foundations—that's great!"

Xisi forced a smile to rally morale, but Youwa's complexion grew even sicker, her gaze turning away with barely concealed bitterness.

"People think the Empire abandoned us because they deem our output insufficient, so we work even harder."

Xisi: "......"

His expression stiffened slightly; Xisi finally set the summary aside, his mouth twitching a few times, unable to lift his spirits as he faced Youwa and the words he was about to speak.

After holding it in for a while, Xisi took a deep breath and finally rose to his feet.

Without looking at Youwa, Xisi forced himself to be as indifferent as possible:

Based on the situation of Oumia No. 3.

I demand, from this moment onward, that each person work at least eighteen Terra Times per day.

Xisi stresses the two characters "at least".

Except for production workers, all other men and women, regardless of age, are to be conscripted and must undergo wartime allocation and training.

All residences outside Nest City must also be unconditionally demolished to be used as material for building defenses.

I want every person, every gun, and every stone of Oumia No. 3 to be ready to be hurled at the Empire's enemy!

Xisi speaks, and behind him Bunoke, Daiweiluo and others' expressions become increasingly spirited, while the officials below are also somewhat stirred.

Only Youwa pulls back the evasive gaze, opening their mouth several times, truly unable to go along.

Xisi scans the crowd, then fixes his gaze solely on Youwa.

After a pause, Xisi suddenly raises his hand and lightly pats Youwa's shoulder:

"Do not fear sacrifice, for only through sacrifice is there hope."