Chapter 281: I Cannot Promise You

Upon hearing this, the hearts of everyone—from the high-ranking officials in Conference Room One to the civilians anxiously waiting aboard their residential ships—leaped into their throats.

First, you state the benefits. You explain your value to entice the other party, and only then do you present your terms. This is the standard procedure for any negotiation.

And now, the most crucial moment had arrived—the one that would decide the life or death of their civilization, the one that concerned the personal interests of every single individual!

Whether they would be forced into suicide, become slaves, or be allowed to continue living in freedom—it all came down to this!

After a moment of silence, the Intelligent Mechanical Calamity’s reply came.

“Oh? And what are your terms?”

Haimo Lan gazed out the viewport at the vastness of Deep Space, his heart calmer than it had ever been.

He had laid all his cards on the table. But now, he had no way of knowing what value the other party placed on those cards, or what benefits they could secure for his people.

If his asking price was too high, exceeding the other party’s expectations, it could very well cause them to turn hostile, and he would lose everything.

But if his price was too low, it would mean a great loss for his civilization.

Every word, every phrase, every minor point of insistence or concession could mean life or death for tens of thousands.

Despite this immense psychological pressure, Haimo Lan’s voice betrayed not a hint of emotion.

He spoke as calmly as if he were making small talk. “We require sufficient guarantees of our safety.”

“I can promise you that once we succeed in capturing Human Civilization, I will let you go.”

“Not enough!”

Haimo Lan’s voice rose to a shout. “We need an objective guarantee of our safety, one not dependent on your goodwill!

We cannot entrust the life and death of our civilization to your whims!

We need enough military strength—limited to a level that poses no fundamental threat to you, of course—but enough to ensure that after we achieve our strategic objective and capture Human Civilization, we can protect our main fleet and break through your blockade, even if you go back on your word!

Furthermore, once Human Civilization is defeated, the Harville Civilization requires ten billion human captives!”

Haimo Lan was met with a long silence.

Haimo Lan’s heart, which had weathered many a storm, was now perfectly calm. The other high-ranking officials, however, had turned pale, their hearts pounding uncontrollably.

Aboard ship after ship, countless civilians, officials, tycoons, and scholars waited. Some had already fainted, while others had collapsed to the floor, muttering prayers to whatever gods they could name.

Amidst this turbulent torrent of emotion, Haimo Lan stood like a steadfast pillar, resolute and unmoving, as if he were in complete control of the situation.

But after a long pause, the Intelligent Mechanical Calamity’s reply shattered everyone’s hopes.

“I cannot agree to your terms.”

Several high-ranking officials felt their vision go black and fainted on the spot. Across the residential ships, a wave of choked, almost unconscious sobs erupted.

Haimo Lan’s head snapped up, his gaze solemn as he stared out the viewport into the vastness of Deep Space.

“The ten billion human captives, I can give you.

However, my war models calculate that a fleet powerful enough for you to break through my blockade would make you too difficult to control. You would become a threat to me.

The most I can accept is to allow you a military force of no more than 200,000 warships, along with their complementary unmanned combat assets, logistical support, and maintenance facilities.

This military force will not be enough for you to break through my encirclement. But… it will be enough to buy you time for mass suicide. It would also cost me approximately 200,000 to 300,000 warships.”

Haimo Lan’s eyes narrowed instantly.

He immediately understood the true meaning hidden within this condition.

‘If the Intelligent Mechanical Calamity goes back on its word, we would still have enough time for mass suicide. This means its betrayal would gain it nothing.’

‘We could inflict losses of 200,000 to 300,000 warships on the Intelligent Mechanical Calamity. While that may not be a major blow to it, it is a loss nonetheless.’

‘If it reneges, not only would it gain nothing, it would suffer a loss. And no matter how small, a loss is still a loss, is it not?’

‘This, then, was the Intelligent Mechanical Calamity’s show of sincerity.’

‘The only thing I need to worry about is, when that critical moment comes, will we truly have the resolve to commit mass suicide?’

‘Perhaps this is the Intelligent Mechanical Calamity’s real gambit—a trap, betting that when the time comes, we won’t dare to go through with it. That there will always be some who cling to life, hoping for a lucky break. Those survivors might be the “profit” it’s counting on.’

‘But, right here, right now…’

A sharp glint flashed in Haimo Lan’s eyes. He roared, “Deal!”

‘There’s no time to worry about that now.’

The Intelligent Mechanical Calamity’s reply came once more: “Agreed.”

Outside the viewport, the thousands of lights that had dimmed—stars in their own right—flared back to life.

Haimo Lan knew what it was: the light from the engine flares of the enemy warships that had surrounded his fleet, all activating their thrusters at once to pull away.

“From now on, my fleet will maintain a distance of 20 million kilometers from yours and escort you.

The closest Star System to our current position is 3.6 light-years away. Change course and head there. Within that system, we will complete the integration and development of our two forces. Afterward, we will proceed to the Lyra G16 Star System to fulfill our mutual promise…”

“Understood.”

On behalf of his entire civilization, Haimo Lan, Supreme Leader of the Harville Civilization, answered solemnly.

The exchange ended. The communication link was severed.

Haimo Lan, who had been as immovable and majestic as a mountain, suddenly crumbled.

As if drained of all strength, his body swayed before he collapsed to the floor. His face was ghastly pale, his breathing as faint as a whisper.

“Supreme Leader! Supreme Leader!”

The high-ranking officials scrambled over to him. They heard Haimo Lan murmur, “I’m fine… I’m fine… Just let me rest… Let me rest…”

He slowly closed his eyes.

…

「Lyra G16 Star System.」

Under Li Qingsong’s control, five hundred billion cubes, accelerated by the star’s own gravity, had all slammed into the star itself.

Because their trajectories had been precisely calculated beforehand, the cubes’ impact points were distributed evenly across the entire star, leaving no spot untouched, not even the poles.

The radius of the Lyra G16 Star is 700,000 kilometers, with a total surface area of approximately 6.15 trillion square kilometers. With 500 billion cubes impacting it, that was equivalent to one cube for roughly every 12 square kilometers.

The impact of a single cube released energy equivalent to the detonation of 4.6 billion tons of TNT.

This was the equivalent of detonating a giant Hydrogen Bomb with a yield of approximately 380 million tons of TNT on every single square kilometer of its surface!

Such immense energy blanketed the entire star, leaving no corner untouched. What form of life could possibly survive such a scouring?

Watching the star, now a “raging inferno” after the impacts, Li Qingsong allowed a faint smile to touch his lips.

‘Finally, I can develop my technology without any constraints…’