7: Chapter 7 I Don't Eat Cilantro

Cheng Yu stood on the vibrating deck of the "dont eat cilantro", watching his bizarre fleet stumble and climb, eventually disappearing above the clouds.

In the shared consciousness, the senses of tens of thousands of Cheng Yus Clones simultaneously transmitted the sensations of weightlessness, noise, and the groans of metal fatigue.

"Maintain course, record everything, and if you encounter anything that moves... try to capture it alive."

He issued this final, vague directive and then withdrew his attention.

Micromanagement at every moment was inefficient; he only needed to set the goals, and for the rest, sheer numbers would solve everything.

He shifted his focus to the STC pyramid that was constantly spewing white powder.

Hunger had been temporarily alleviated, but another form of scarcity began to manifest—aside from starch, they had almost nothing.

Weapons, vehicles, and even decent clothing all depended on salvaging the pathetic remains of Orks and Aeldari.

"Can it be made to produce something else?"

Cheng Yu stroked the cold surface of the pyramid.

"Carbon-based compounds and light energy... in theory, it should be able to synthesize any organic substance."

He focused his will, attempting to communicate with this ancient creation using his vast shared consciousness, but to no avail.

Thousands of Cheng Yus Clones were summoned to surround the pyramid's base, tapping, probing, and even attempting to carve into it with energy daggers captured from Aeldari pirates.

There was no reaction.

The pyramid simply continued to produce starch silently, efficiently, and monotonously.

"Damn it, did the humans of the Golden Age have no sense of entertainment?"

Just then, an alarm came from the expedition fleet.

It was not an Imperial fleet, nor did it pose any real threat.

It was a merchant ship.

It was a small merchant vessel that looked dilapidated, with a blurry Rogue Trader insignia painted on its hull, its engine exhaust flickering as if it might stall at any second.

It appeared to be nothing more than a tiny, decaying Rogue Trader dynasty.

It was cautiously attempting to bypass Cheng Yus expedition fleet, seemingly just wanting to pass by quietly.

Cheng Yus eyes lit up instantly.

A Rogue Trader!

The frontier smugglers, opportunists, and occasional explorers of the Empire.

Their ships could contain anything—from contraband weapons to luxury goods, from star charts to slaves.

Most importantly, such a weak Rogue Trader dynasty surely wouldn't have any Imperial Navy on board; it could be attacked without consequence, as long as they were clean about it.

"A gift has arrived."

A greedy curve spread across Cheng Yus lips.

" 'Homeroom Teacher Liu' warband, 'Student Affairs Office Director Zhao' warband, don't just stand there; move in, and be enthusiastic."

Several warships immediately turned clumsily under his will, spewing black smoke and starch debris as they moved to surround the Rogue Trader ship.

The Rogue Trader ship clearly hadn't expected to encounter an interception in this godforsaken place marked as a "Death World," especially from something that looked like it was cobbled together from a junk pile.

It attempted to accelerate and escape, but its old engines were clearly not up to the task.

A weak communication request came through, using Imperial Low Gothic, carrying clear notes of panic and obsequiousness.

"This is the legitimate merchant vessel 'Prophet of Profit'! We mean no offense, we are just passing through! Requesting passage!"

Main Body was amused. He cleared his throat and responded in a tone he deemed very official.

"This is Cheng Yu Planet Customs! Stop your ship immediately for inspection! Repeat, stop immediately, or we will take forceful measures!"

In his shared vision, he saw that the 'Homeroom Teacher Liu' warband's ramshackle ship, the "Tuantuan Yuanyuan," had already closed in on the merchant vessel and initiated boarding; dozens of Cheng Yus Clones, wielding Ork choppas and Aeldari spears, began clumsily prying open the enemy's airlock.

The merchant ship was clearly terrified by this barbaric and primitive approach, or perhaps its engines really did have issues, as it slowed down.

"We'll cooperate! We'll fully cooperate! Please don't attack!"

The voice on the communication channel was almost sobbing.

The airlock was forced open. Dozens of Cheng Yus Clones flooded into the narrow corridors of the "Prophet of Profit" like a grey tide.

Through their eyes, Cheng Yu saw stacked crates, rusted pipes, and many human crew members cowering in corners, wearing tattered uniforms.

There was no decent resistance.

"Search every corner! Bring back everything that can be moved!" Cheng Yu ordered.

The Cheng Yus Clones faithfully executed the order. They smashed open crates, which contained only some inferior weapon parts, expired rations, some glowing mineral samples, and even dozens of cases of cheap alcohol with blurry pictures of beautiful women printed on them.

The haul wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

Cheng Yus brow furrowed. Was this it? A Rogue Trader wouldn't just carry this junk.

"Find the hidden compartments. And... ask the captain."

On the merchant ship's bridge, the Cheng Yus Clones found the captain—a fat, bald, middle-aged man constantly wiping away sweat.

He looked at the dozens of identical, expressionless people before him, his pants already wet.

"The cargo! The cargo is in the lower hold! There's a hidden cargo container! The password is..." Before they could even "ask," he confessed everything.

The Cheng Yus Clones flooded into the lower hold and sure enough, found a reinforced, hidden cargo container. After prying it open, inside were hundreds of well-maintained Astra Militarum-issue lasguns, and... a dozen crates of crystal-clear, faintly energy-emitting crystals.

Psychic crystals? Or something else?

Cheng Yu didn't recognize them, but instinctively felt they were valuable.

"Take them. Take everything."

"And... what about the ship and the people on it?" the Cheng Yus Clone in charge of the operation asked for instructions.

Cheng Yu rubbed his chin.

It was just a broken ship, not very useful, but dismantling it would at least recover some materials.

People... were also a type of resource. Plus, their brains might contain more useful information—star charts, trade routes, intelligence on other worlds.

"Dismantle the ship. Bring the people... back, and keep them in solitary confinement. Remember, no eating them."

He needed truly professional knowledge, not the boisterous combat memories of Orks or the mystical, rambling fragments of the Aeldari.

"Understood."

The "Homeroom Teacher Liu" warband began faithfully executing the dismantling work, while the "Student Affairs Office Director Zhao" warband escorted the prisoners and spoils of war back to the surface of Cheng Yu Planet.

Cheng Yu watched the pitiful merchant ship being rapidly dismembered in space, turning into floating chunks of scrap metal, and felt pleased.

Although, due to a lack of experience in space operations, a few of his own ships had also disintegrated.

But that didn't matter; the other ships would bring them all back.

The first robbery was a complete success.

Although the haul didn't compare to that Ork starship, it was a start.

It proved that their tentacles could reach into the stars, and they could seize the capital for survival from this cruel galaxy.

He looked up, sensing the new, faint energy fluctuations from those mysterious crystals in the consciousness network, as well as the fearful emotional waves of the prisoners.

The Empire's tax officials might still be on their way.

But the Cheng Yu Empire had already begun its own "tax collection" operation.