29: Not killing people is for the purpose of robbing more money.

[star-glory - Bridge]

The moment Commander Sarriel looked up, he no longer saw the familiar and exquisite crystal chandelier that had accompanied him for years.

Instead, he saw a sudden, swelling flare of deadly fire, brighter than a star.

BOOM—!!!

No warning. No nonsense. Not even a single second of reaction time.

The bridge's ceiling collapsed.

Giant crystal shards, twisted metal keels, and burning insulation, mixed with the shockwave of the explosion, smashed down on the dense crowd below like a lethal meteor shower.

"Aaah—!!!"

Screams erupted instantly, as shrill as a chorus from hell.

The elite guards, who had set up heavy cannons and were focused on the main door, were instantly knocked over by the falling debris.

The barrels of the precision Mana-heavy cannons were bent, and their runes flickered out.

Some had their arms severed by falling crystal shards, while others had their spines crushed by massive metal keels; blood instantly stained the pristine white floor red.

Smoke and dust filled the air.

The entire bridge fell into a chaotic gloom, filled with the sounds of coughing and moaning.

But the true horror had only just begun.

Thud!

A dull, ear-shattering boom drowned out all the screams.

It was the sound of a half-ton dense object in free fall from five meters high, slamming heavily onto the floor.

The floor groaned, and the entire ship seemed to tremble with it.

In the dust, a pair of eerie green eyes lit up.

The light was cold and ruthless, like the gaze of a starving wolf on the wasteland.

Then came a second pair, a third... five massive black figures, like demon gods descending from myth, crouched amidst the ruins in the center of the bridge.

Their mk ii power armor was covered in crisscrossing scratches from the forced squeeze and friction, the paint peeling away to reveal the raw grey iron beneath.

In some places, broken cables and insulation foam even hung off them.

That rough, dirty image, full of traces of heavy industrial destruction, was completely out of place in this artistic bridge.

Like a group of grease-stained butchers barging into an elegant ball.

Sarriel was knocked under the command console by the blast's shockwave.

He clutched his bleeding forehead, watching in terror as the five figures slowly stood straight.

As they rose, the hydraulic systems emitted a low hum.

Vrrr—!!!

Five Chainswords roared to life simultaneously.

That dense buzzing, like countless angry wasps gathering together, instantly drowned out the guards' wails and became the only melody in the space.

"Fi... Fire! Open fire, now!!"

A surviving Guard Captain crawled out from the ruins, desperately raised his Mana-gun, and pulled the trigger.

But it was already meaningless.

They were too close.

At such point-blank range, before the fragile mages could even finish chanting half a syllable, the teeth of the Chainswords had already kissed their throats.

—Don't give the enemy time to think.

D-01 didn't pause for a moment.

The moment he landed, his tactical visor had already locked onto the greatest threat in the room—the Chief Technician trying to crawl toward the console to restart the internal defense system.

Charge.

His heavy combat boots kicked a crater into the floor, his black figure blurring into an afterimage.

Swing.

Squelch—Splurt!

The technician didn't even have time to scream before he was sliced diagonally through the shoulder.

The high-speed rotating teeth tore through the silk robe, cut through flesh, and sawed through bone.

Blood splattered across the pristine white console, instantly staining the noble ship with mortal filth.

This was the core tactical logic of the First Legion:

—Don't give the enemy a chance to breathe.

Before their brains can process what happened, stop their bodies from functioning.

"No... this is impossible..."

Sarriel slumped on the ground, his legs so weak he couldn't stand.

He stared wide-eyed at the one-sided slaughter.

The black giants were like five precision-operated humanoid meat grinders, rampaging through the enclosed space.

They didn't need cover or tactical evasion; they only needed to swing their swords, and swing again.

Every second someone fell, and every second severed limbs flew.

The Mithril doors he was so proud of had become a joke.

His carefully arranged crossfire network had become completely useless due to the enemy's "vertical drop."

Suddenly.

The battlefield went silent.

Except for the low hum of the Chainswords idling, there was no other noise.

The guards were all dead.

The technicians were all dead.

Twitching corpses covered the floor, and blood pooled into streams.

In the entire bridge, only Sarriel remained alive.

This wasn't because of luck or because he hid well.

It was because the leading black giant was standing before him, looking down at him.

There was no killing intent or mercy in those green visors. Only a chilling indifference, as if looking at "assets to be processed."

D-01 slowly shut off the Chainsword's engine.

He reached out with a massive hand covered in heavy Ceramite gauntlets and grabbed Sarriel's exquisite silk collar like he was picking up a defenseless chick.

Then, he applied strength to his arm.

Sarriel felt like a lifted ragdoll, his feet off the ground, dangling in mid-air.

He struggled desperately, but against that terrifying hydraulic-driven strength, his resistance was laughable.

"Ship control."

D-01's voice came through the external speakers, carrying a distinct metallic vibrato and static.

Only five words.

Simple, direct, and unquestionable.

Sarriel trembled, his lips quivering as he wanted to refuse, to uphold the last of the Crystal Energy Federation's dignity, to say something tough.

But he couldn't.

Because he saw what D-01 was holding in his other hand.

It was an exaggeratedly heavy Bolter.

The thick muzzle was still smoking, pressed against his stomach.

He could even feel the heat from the barrel... [Holographic Operations Cabin]

Li Cang watched this scene and finally let out a long sigh of relief, his tense back relaxing slightly.

His eyes were fixed on the countdown on the resource panel.

"There are only 20 seconds left before this ship's Power reactor overloads."

That damned Crystal Energy Commander had activated the self-destruct sequence at the last moment.

Li Cang's fingers tapped rapidly on the console, entering a string of commands to connect to D-01's private communication channel.

"Good job, D-01."

"Don't kill him. Keep him alive. Make him turn off the shields and stop the self-destruct."

"Our transport ships are coming in. I want to strip every single screw that can be removed from this ship. Especially those Crystal engines; those things sell for a fortune on the black market."

Li Cang paused, a hint of merchant shrewdness and cunning flashing in his eyes:

"And... ask him if he's willing to ransom this ship back."

"Or ransom his own life."

"We are civilized people; we can do a bit of 'second-hand trading' once in a while. After all, GP is the bottom line."

This was the way of survival for the Imperium of Man.

Killing is for robbery.

Not killing is to rob even more money.