78: The first thing to do after the war is to open your shopping cart.

[Mariana Trench Fortress — "Bridge of Sighs"]

The final roar vanished beneath the bridge.

The orange glow of magma surged from a depth of a thousand meters, illuminating the wreckage strewn across the ground.

The air was so hot it felt dry; every breath carried a strange mixture of charred flesh, overheated metal, and ozone.

C-19 leaned on his bent and deformed power halberd, slowly straightening his body.

His left arm hung at his side, the portion below the shoulder pauldron completely trashed.

The metal skeleton was exposed from the torn Black Carapace, and artificial muscle fibers hung like snapped ropes.

His eyepiece scanned the battlefield. One by one, the life signals of his allies dimmed and extinguished on his retinal display interface.

Fragments of black Astartes power armor and golden Sun Warriors armor shards were mixed together, covering the entire long bridge.

Some corpses remained in a charging posture, while others had been smashed into a twisted mixture of metal and flesh by gravity hammers.

"Casualty report."

C-19's voice was hoarse. Static hissed through the comm channel, followed by a string of cold replies.

"Third Squad, three KIA, two critically wounded."

"Fourth Squad, four KIA, all members injured."

"Fifth Squad..."

The numbers were tallied.

Thirteen.

Thirteen brothers of the First Legion had fallen forever on this bridge.

Combined with the losses earlier on the fortress periphery and in the corridors, of the twenty-two who set out, only nine remained standing.

C-19 did not order a celebration.

He also had no time to feel any emotion.

His brain was simply performing rapid calculations: nine men.

Ammunition reserves.

Severity of injuries.

Next phase of the mission.

"Begin recovery."

He issued the second command.

C-19 walked to the corpse nearest him.

This was his brother.

Designation C-07.

The cuirass was crushed by a gravity hammer, and the exposed artificial organs had already begun to congeal in the high temperature.

But C-07's face was peaceful.

His eyes were open, his pupils having lost focus, fixed on some distant direction.

C-19 knelt on one knee.

There was no hesitation in his movements.

He took a precise, scalpel-like tool from the medical kit at his waist—a "Reductor."

This was a device specifically designed for this moment.

He precisely plunged the Reductor into the neck of C-07's corpse.

The blade sliced through the cooled skin and muscle, accurately avoiding the cervical vertebrae to reach the first target location.

The front end of the Reductor deployed, tiny metal arms probing into the wound to begin separating tissue.

Three seconds.

A Progenoid Gland was carefully removed.

It was only the size of a human thumb, encased in a semi-transparent membrane.

C-19 could see the complex folded structure inside it.

He placed it into the cryogenic storage box at his waist.

The storage box emitted a faint hum, and the internal temperature plummeted to minus forty degrees.

Next was the chest cavity.

C-19 used the Reductor to cut through the damaged cuirass fragments of C-07, exposing the area beneath the ribs.

His blade probed in once more.

The second heart had stopped beating, but the other Progenoid Gland beside it was still intact. He removed it.

Two.

This was all C-07 could leave to the Legion.

"Your duty is not yet over, brother,"

C-19 whispered.

He closed the storage box.

Then he stood up and walked toward the next fallen figure.

The surviving Astartes silently did the same.

They moved among the corpses, kneeling, operating the Reductors, standing, and continuing.

There were no words of mourning, no tears, no ritualistic prayers.

Only the faint sound of metal cutting into flesh, the clicking of storage boxes opening and closing, and the occasional comm confirmation.

"C-12, recovery complete. Two."

"C-18, recovery complete. Two."

"C-03... recovery failed. Progenoid Glands crushed by the gravity field."

C-19's fingers paused on the storage box for a second. Then he continued moving.

Twenty-six.

Thirteen corpses, twenty-six Progenoid Glands.

This was all they could recover.

Three corpses' Progenoid Glands were completely destroyed, beyond retrieval.

C-19 placed the last Progenoid Gland into the storage box and locked it tight.

He stood at the end of the bridge, looking at the giant gate leading into the depths of the palace.

Behind the gate was Nathan Doom.

The tyrant was not yet dead.

But he needed to handle another matter first.

"Commander," he called through the encrypted channel.

"gene seed recovery complete. Twenty-six units. Three destroyed. Requesting further instructions."

[Holographic Operations Cabin]

While C-19 was recovering the gene seed of his fallen brothers, the battle settlement interface was flashing inside Li Cang's Holographic Operations Cabin.

He did not immerse himself in sorrow.

Sorrow would not keep him alive.

But spoils of war could.

[Battle Victory: "Bridge of Sighs" Meat Grinder]

[Rating: B+ (Pyrrhic Victory)]

[Commentary: You achieved victory at a great cost, proving your army possesses a will of iron. However, your tactics were too rigid and overly dependent on the Commander's personal prowess.]

[Settlement Rewards:]

genesis points (GP): +1,500 points

Blueprint Points (BP): +500 points

Special Drop: [Dark Age Tech Wreckage: Void Executioner] ×3 (Due to Adeptus Mechanicus intervention, only three units were allocated)

Li Cang's gaze bypassed the point rewards.

He stared intently at the "Special Drop."

Three Void Executioner wrecks.

That old fox Ul-02 took most of them, but the remaining three... were enough.

He selected the wreckage icon and opened the [Reverse Engineering] interface.

[Detected Dark Age Tech Wreckage: Void Executioner]

[This item contains lost gravity manipulation technology. Proceed with Reverse Engineering?]

[Cost: 1,500 BP, 20,000 units of resources. Requires at least one 'Archmagos' level technician to lead.]

[Estimated Success Rate: 8%]

[Possible Outputs:]

Extremely Low Probability: [Blueprint: gravity weapon]

Low Probability: [Tech Node: gravity shield]

High Probability: [Plugin: gravity stabilizer]

Extremely High Probability: Engineering failure, explosion occurs.

An 8% success rate.

Li Cang's eye twitched.

Yet he chose "Yes" without hesitation.

"Ul-02," he called the Mars fleet directly on the comm channel.

"Stop watching the show and get to work."

There was a three-second silence on the other end.

Then Ul-02's mechanized voice sounded: "[Technical Consultation Fee]: 800 GP. Prepaid."

Li Cang gritted his teeth and clicked confirm.

800 GP vanished from his account.

A long 120-hour research countdown appeared in the bottom right corner of his screen.

He closed the Reverse Engineering interface and opened [Legion Cultivation].

The First Legion card was flashing with golden light.

[Battle Insight Unlocked: Combat Experience Against gravity weapons]

[After enduring the devastating strikes of the "Void Executioner," the surviving warriors' Black Carapace recorded the fluctuation patterns of the gravity field and generated a preliminary countermeasure.]

[Consume 500 BP to solidify this insight into a Legion-level passive trait?]

"Solidify."

[Trait generation successful]

[Structural Pressure Resistance (Basic)] — Your units take 15% less damage and suffer 15% less movement restriction when facing gravity weapons.

500 BP was deducted from his account.

Li Cang looked at this trait, his lips twitching slightly.

15%.

Only basic level.

But the next time they encountered such an enemy, they wouldn't be as helpless as they were just now.

Having done all this, he finally turned his gaze to the most critical interface.

[Reinforcements].

Thirteen dead, nine survivors.

He needed to replenish at least twenty-two new Astartes to return to pre-war strength.

But with the twenty-six gene seeds recovered, he could first cultivate thirteen new warriors... Li Cang opened the [Gene Forging] menu.

[Targeted Forging: Standard Space Marine (Mk II)]

[Unit Cost: 450 GP]

[Quantity Required: 22]

[Total Cost: 9,900 GP]

9,900.

Li Cang glanced at his account balance.

Battle reward +1,500 GP.

Mars technical consultation fee -800 GP.

Solidify trait -500 BP (does not affect GP).

Remaining GP: 1,600.

He couldn't even afford to build a single recruit.

And more crucially, in the top right corner of the screen, the maintenance consumption countdown for the [Gene God-Child] was still ticking ruthlessly.

[Gene God-Child Life Support System]: -0.8 GP/min

[Stasis Field Energy Compensation]: -0.3 GP/min

[Nutrient Solution Synthesis]: -0.4 GP/min

[Cell Regeneration Acceleration]: -0.5 GP/min

[Total]: -2.0 GP/min (-120 GP/hour)

[Current Balance: 1,600 GP]

[GP Depletion Countdown: Approximately 13 hours]

Thirteen hours.

Li Cang leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

His brain worked at an unprecedented speed.

Money.

He needed money.

A massive amount of money that could arrive immediately.

There was bound to be some in the treasury of the Mariana Trench Fortress.

Nathan Doom had accumulated over a century of wealth, enough to support his ambitions ten times over.

But Nathan Doom wasn't dead yet.

The fortress hadn't been fully occupied.

And his nine Astartes were nearly out of ammunition and covered in scars.

Wait.

Li Cang snapped his eyes open.

A crazy thought that only a gambler could come up with took shape in his mind.

Who says... money has to be stolen from the enemy?

Isn't an ally's money still money?

He opened the communication interface.

This time, he connected to the Fabricator-General far away on Mars—Kelbor-Hal.

"Archmagos."

Li Cang's voice was calm and sincere.

"I have a proposal... that will bring great benefit to both of us."

"I intend to... take a portion of 'His Highness the Holy Son's' future 'earnings rights'..."

He paused, weighing his words.

"...and pledge them to Mars in the form of a credit contract."