173: Chapter 177 I took it all away, mud and pot.

Gene-Agricultural Planet No. 8.

The back garden used by the Eternal Star Crown Federation to maintain the ultra-luxurious physical replacements of its upper class and supply top-tier psionic elixirs.

The sky here was always adjusted to a comfortable pale pink by the environmental management system.

When that giant black droplet squeezed out from a purple gap—looking like a slash in the sky—beyond the high-altitude defense line, the patrol squadron leader responsible for orbital security was busy nitpicking the parameters of a delivery maintenance fluid on his screen.

The system's anti-air warning didn't even have time to sound in the command room, which was broadcasting serene symphonies across all frequencies.

That battle axe heavy cruiser, encrusted with countless disgusting fragments of flesh and black barbs,

was like a giant whale that didn't slow down at all, directly smashing through a school of defenseless fish from above.

On the lower side of the battle axe heavy cruiser, several smoothbore Macro-cannons, already loaded with high-explosive armor-piercing shells, fired under an extremely perfunctory blind-fire command.

It was just one crude volley.

High-end armed patrol boats, which could buy vast territories within three light-years, were caught in a boarding range of less than one kilometer.

Like brittle walnuts struck by a sledgehammer, five or six muffled fireballs burst in succession in the air, unable to even transmit an alarm.

The wreckage was dragged directly into this tranquil pink atmosphere.

On the ground, in the center of the Emerald Belt, stood the [Main Special Supply Cultivation Base], covering thousands of square kilometers with an extremely elegant, white, streamlined design.

Tens of thousands of Federation researchers and high-level guards fell into a deathly freezing point of terror beneath the giant black shadow that obscured most of the elegant sky.

No holographic broadcast warned them to surrender.

The black battle axe heavy cruiser hovered at an ultra-low altitude of less than three hundred meters from the base's cultivation dome.

The notorious heavy airdrop hatches on the ship's belly, which were rarely opened, all slid open accompanied by the ear-piercing hiss of hydraulic venting.

Boom!

The first earth-shattering roar came from the core of the meticulously cared-for ten-thousand-acre cultivation array.

An extremely heavy black iron lump, carrying abyssal green flames that could practically parch a person and a thick scent of sulfur, did not rely on any counter-thrust ropes.

It was dropped from high altitude directly onto the ground by brute force.

It was Number Fourteen's [Virulent Holy Dreadnought].

Its mechanical legs, heavy as pillars, slammed firmly into the middle of the premium tanks filled with various high-grade clone cultivation fluids that shimmered with soft light.

That single step instantly crushed a major-rank guard, who was still screaming while trying to draw a security pistol, along with half a section of the crystal glass floor into a pile of hairy meat paste.

The exhaust vents on its chest emitted a heat-dissipation roar like a ghost's wail.

The eleven-barreled heavy cannon on its left arm pointed at the high-level Federation riot squad that had rushed over and was attempting to form a fire barrier.

It pulled the trigger to the limit without hesitation!

A deafening roar of muzzle flashes! Within seconds, these 'young master' soldiers, accustomed to patrolling in climate-controlled rooms, were swept by high-explosive shells with depleted uranium cores into a rain of meat scraps that couldn't even be pieced back together.

The weakness of flesh and even the courage to resist were crushed instantly under the iron curtain of such a morbid beast before they could even be established.

The dreadnought mech stood planted right at the front. One man and one heavy cannon suppressed the terrified garrison behind the pile of magnificent ruins.

But Li Cang wasn't here for a war of slaughter. He didn't waste the remaining ammunition on these small fry.

Inside the warship, over two thousand Servitors, long since formatted and vacant-eyed, were like a colony of black ants ordered to move house.

They slid down along giant adamantine tractor ropes. What they held in their hands were not weapons,

but super-heavy ion cutting saws and ultra-large physical high-strength tractor suction cups taken from the Great Production Blueprints.

"Ten minutes."

Li Cang looked at the red and black countdown numbers on the console.

"Even if all the ship's mainframes are fried, the Federation's big shots will be able to open a backdoor and find us in this amount of time at the fastest, given that such a major asset is being stolen."

"They are the masters here; they don't even need to charge up for a warp jump."

"Don't be picky! Every bottle you see, no matter what's inside—pull them all out!"

The hundred or so Astartes led by Recruit Number One weren't just providing cover; they were directly participating in a grand robbery so unscrupulous it would make any great map player curse in rage.

They didn't bother to decipher the self-locking neural codes at the bottom of these high-grade nutrient fluid tanks.

The Servitors used ion cutting saws to brutally cut through the entire bedrock foundations of the cultivation tanks.

The Astartes Recruits used their inhuman, mutated strength to shoulder the high-grade nutrient chambers, which were still attached to large chunks of special soil and thick infusion pipes.

Pot and all, they hooked them onto the pitch-black tractor beams!

Thousands of slots! Tens of thousands of tons of extremely pure high-grade energy and biochemical repair fluids.

These were originally high-end items meant for the enemy's top-ranked generals to repair their bodies and increase their mental thresholds.

Now, like oversized dead pigs, they were being unceremoniously yanked and dragged into the dilapidated cargo hold at the bottom of the heavy cruiser, which reeked of engine oil and rotting meat!

Many delicate glass tubes even shattered during the brute-force dragging process, and expensive nutrient fluid splashed like rain onto the floor that had been trampled into a mess. But Li Cang didn't even blink.

In less than nine minutes and forty-five seconds,

the cockpit alarms blared. On the modified holographic coordinate map, the surrounding space-jump curvature, which was originally perfectly calm, suddenly erupted with tens of thousands of giant high-dimensional distortion points!

They were here! This wasn't just one or two vanguard squads. This was a cross-dimensional manhunt by the Federation's main force, utterly enraged after being poked in the rear!

"Retract the tractor lines! All ships, push engines to absolute limits!"

Not a shred of greed!

Number Fourteen's dreadnought mech even left a row of heavy defense railings on the left side behind.

Its massive body, covered by a group of Astartes, used powerful physical suction cups to hang directly onto the edge of the large bottom hatch that had not yet closed.

Just as the main guns of those Federation [Punisher-class Cruisers] in outer space, carrying intense beams of destructive judgment, tore through the Emerald Nebula's atmosphere and slammed down with a fury that threatened to evaporate and level the area!

Click!

The [Illegal Stargate Remnant Map Backdoor] positioning point, which Li Cang had been keeping open, faintly opened above the heavy cruiser, which was now loaded with loot and almost dangerously heavy.

A massive amount of gunfire rained down, and the center of the ten-thousand-acre cultivation base was blasted into a crater tens of thousands of meters deep.

But that mass of black rogue shadow had already, amidst the high heat of those Lances,

slipped away smoothly and arrogantly through that re-closing and untraceable high-dimensional foul-smelling rift.

...

Mining Planet No. 3, the main operation area in the deep dark red core.

Li Cang leaned back heavily in his chair, pressed by the recoil of the ship's warp jump.

The alarms on the holographic radar had completely died down. They were back in their safe, anti-air nest, covered by his own layer of dead rules and hidden by camouflage.

The roar of Servitors beginning to unload the massive number of nutrient tanks echoed from the cargo hold.

The crisis was resolved for the time being.

Li Cang casually clicked on the inventory list module, which he hadn't had time to check in detail due to the rapid looting.

He nodded with extreme satisfaction at the screen full of "High-level Special-demand Nutrient Fluid" and "Tier-3 Physical Purity Raw Extract." Even if he only used them to create Servitors, it would be enough for an army of over a hundred thousand.

But at the very last moment as the list reached the bottom,

a special red-and-gold cursor box, which didn't appear as ordinary blue or green material but was extremely obscure and covered in countless [Eternal Stellar Corona Secret Level Black Locks],

was automatically picked out by the system.

[Detected extra-dimensional high-value contraband attached during battle-damaged dragging.]

[Item Obtained: Special Flesh Synthesis High-level Template Fragment (Stellar Corona Federation Royal Creation Terminal).]

Li Cang pinched the bridge of his aching nose, and his movement to take a short rest immediately froze solid.

He enlarged the holographic map of the base that Recruit Number One had unreasonably pulled out along with hundreds of cubic meters of soil and the sewer base station.

Stuck in the filthiest pipes was not any form of energy,

but a core top-secret creation authorization that, if it ever appeared on the great map,

would cause even the major powers of the top fifty star sectors to tear at each other like mad dogs to seize it!

"So, these damn 'fairies' act all reasonable and noble on the surface," a cold, twisted smirk curled at the corner of Li Cang's mouth, "but behind the scenes, they're hiding this kind of inhuman, high-level taboo."