37: Chapter 37 The Empire's Despair and Backwardness

The Political Commissar swung the Chainsword, hacking away at the orcs, but without suppression from ranged firepower, it quickly fell behind and gradually began to lose ground.

Just as the Political Commissar could hold on no longer and was about to perish in the orcs' jaws, the squad leader fired a shot, blowing the orc's head apart.

"Brock, are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

The captain issued a series of orders to the soldiers, and relying on the advantage of sufficient firepower, the orc army was soon defeated.

"Board the transport plane immediately. The 'Sacred Chalice' will rendezvous with you."

"But, Brock, we cannot abandon our suffering compatriots!"

"The orc army's next attack will likely arrive soon. Before that, you must ensure the ammunition is delivered to where it is needed."

The captain felt helpless and could only board the large transport plane to leave. Ironically, as they passed through layers of skyscrapers and arrived at the tax collection point, they were told: "Due to the warehouse world being overwhelmed, (the supplies you contributed) have been forced to be destroyed."

"Why?"

"It is an honor to accept your contribution. We look forward to your next contribution to the military affairs. Now, please return to your fleet."

The captain looked at the towering skyscrapers and suddenly realized: the taxes that the people of the planet paid with their lives were merely to fulfill a certain quota. Regardless of whether this quota was useful, at best, it was just for the sake of good-looking figures on paper.

He suddenly remembered that when their transport plane entered the planet's atmosphere, there had been three fighter jets escorting them. But due to a lack of ammunition, the fighter jets had to conserve ammo and fire in short bursts, ultimately leading to all three planes crashing.

He smiled ironically.

With that, the film ended.

Looking at the pitch-black projection screen, the audience was unable to recover for a long time. This film left a deep impression on the viewers.

"Why? Why is the one-tenth tax so cruel in the end?"

Everyone looked at Yang Gao in unison, hoping he could give them an explanation. Even those who had previously shouted, "Trash games should stay with trash," quieted down, wanting to hear his take.

"The Empire's taxes usually have a delay. As for that 'one-tenth tax'... everyone can think about it, no-prize quiz."

The crowd began to rack their brains.

"Could it be that someone is lining their own pockets?"

"Could it be because of the long distance?"

Everyone offered many guesses, but none hit the mark.

At this moment, someone said: "Could it be information lag?"

Hearing this, Yang Gao's eyes lit up, and he hurriedly searched for the person who asked the question. But as soon as he found him, his expression fell: "Why is it you again?"

Li Pu smiled sheepishly: "I didn't want to either. I was just guessing randomly; I didn't expect to get it right."

Yang Gao inwardly shouted, "He's cheating!"

"Well then, let me explain it to everyone."

"That 'one-tenth tax' refers to one-tenth of the (Empire's) peak period."

As soon as these words fell, the audience was in an uproar.

"Is there a problem with that?"

"Brother, let me put it this way: if you have 100,000, you need to pay 10,000; then if you have 10,000, you still have to pay 10,000; even if you go bankrupt, you still have to pay 10,000."

Hearing this explanation, everyone was shocked beyond measure: "This is too desperate! If you don't pay taxes, the Empire will attack you; if you pay taxes, the enemy will attack you even more!"

"Don't forget, Brother Gao once said—'Despair is the Gothic world.'"