99: Chapter 99 Standing Sideways

They can satisfy their needs relying solely on violence and plunder. In the name of convenience and importance, they casually invoke Exterminatus, all while shouting, 'For the Emperor!'

So I have lost political control, which is far more terrifying than mere defeat.

The nobles and institutions of Terra report to me selectively. When I pay attention, they divert my focus to trivial matters.

When I begin to grow wary, they start talking in circles around me, only showing goodwill when I am at my wits' end. They even try to kill me with praise through their words and actions.

By the time I realize what is happening, things have already solidified, leaving no room for change.

This is a systemic strangulation. No one thinks it shouldn't be this way; everyone takes it for granted. There is no longer any political ambition here, nor any moral restraint.

So, I am very sorry about the requisition order.

Van Tulip raised his hand and waved it lightly in the air, as if brushing away non-existent dust.

Louis, you understand that this doesn't matter to me. We, House Tulip, never stand at the forefront of power; we always stand to the side. We are merely the Emperor's shippers.

We rule over no one, yet everyone needs us.

Can you imagine the grain ships and merchant caravans of my Viridis Sector and its four neighboring sectors operating without House Tulip's transport network?

Can you imagine the Navy fleets in the Imperial segmentums maintaining their routes without our fuel replenishment stations?

So, Louis, it is not your fault. I knew about the requisition order the moment it appeared. I knew your foundation had spun out of control.

I didn't even stop it.

Did you know? Some have already begun to view the Golden Badge Houses as prey to be hunted.

This is very bad, which is why I rejected your request, yet invited you here.

This is a warning. You can understand that, right, Louis?

The Master of Administratum did not answer immediately. He remained silent for a long time.

The night wind swept across the high viewing platform. The residual warmth of the tea was dissipating, and a thin layer of mist condensed on the sides of the cups.

Terra's artificial night was not comfortable. It was colder than natural temperatures because the psychic force fields that blocked out the sunlight also sealed out the heat, making the temperature at the top of this Hive City lower than usual.

The scorched smell of burnt-out fireworks, mingled with the scent of the tulip fields, was carried onto the platform by the wind.

The embers after the brilliance and the yet-unblossomed tulip buds seemed to mirror the current plight of the Imperium.

He looked up, gazing at the pale arc on the surface of Luna.

Several massive warships were sailing out from behind the lunar surface, the glow of their aft thrusters drawing thin lines in the darkness.

That was but a tiny cog in the Imperium's tireless war machine, turning according to some plan invisible to him.

I understand.

He finally spoke, his voice slightly lower than before, as if partially dispersed by the night wind.

I know you paid a price, and you don't care. You just want me to understand, to play along with them.

Yet I am a Fleur-de-lis. My family's historical texts laid the foundation for the beginning of human golden civilization, the first time human society began to be guided by the masses, which was the very root of the Golden Age. The Marseillaise is still sung in our family.

The Imperium! Or rather, they have begun to solidify necessary evils like Exterminatus, slavery, obscurantism, and treating mortals as expendable resources into systems, disciplines, laws, and eternal rules.

And then they tell the mortals not to resist—because it would feed the gods in the Warp?

In the end, they created a god to deal with the other gods. How is this any different from using technology to solve technological problems when the Golden Age collapsed?

Van Tulip did not turn his head, but the hand holding his teacup paused in mid-air for a fraction of a second.

The Master of Administratum did not look at him either. He stared up at the artificial night sky and continued speaking.

If you wanted to warn me, a single sentence would have sufficed. A letter. A brief meeting.

But you arranged three nights. Fireworks. Salutes. Swan Castle.

You turned our meeting into a demonstration.

He paused.

You want all of Terra to know—that House Tulip met with the Fleur-de-lis family?

Van Tulip fell silent for a moment, then let out a soft chuckle.

Louis, you are still so... Fleur-de-lis. I appreciate that.

This is a form of protection, a little selfishness of mine.

The Master of Administratum ignored his banter, staring solemnly at Van Tulip.

Are you showing those hunters that House Tulip will stand with the Fleur-de-lis?

He paused, continuing in an uncertain tone:

But are you prepared to stand on my side?

Van Tulip nodded gently.

Are you really ready, Van? Are you ready to be like me? Are you truly prepared to sever ties with your family and bear the consequences yourself? Are you really going to fight a losing political war with me?

You know my foundation has spun out of control. And you know the problem isn't the requisition order itself, but what lies behind it. Someone is using my own system against me.

Van Tulip did not deny it. He kept nodding, then began to explain his thoughts, his voice carrying a hint of impatience, as if trying to defend himself:

The Emperor took ten thousand years to turn the Imperium from an economic system into a theocratic feudal system.

And the Tulips took ten thousand years to learn how to still look at things through the lens of economics within such a system.

Van Tulip smiled, with something in his expression that Louis could not decipher.

Do you know why the Imperium has never been able to eliminate smuggling?

It's not because smugglers are too cunning.

It's because the Imperium has forgotten the concept of 'price difference'.

When the price of wheat in Sector A is a hundred times that of Sector B, smuggling is no longer a crime; it becomes an inevitability.

Louis did not interrupt him.

He listened, and slowly, as if something had finally clicked in his mind, his expression shifted to one of understanding.

So that is your weapon, he said.

Van Tulip felt a bit annoyed and raised his voice a notch:

I know you're thinking of the 'butter tub,' but our historical texts are not just about economics.

Even though they teach us how to understand the nature of currency (not gold and silver, but trust),

how to understand the nature of credit (not personal favors, but expectations),

how to understand the nature of the market (not transactions, but the convergence of information),

and how to understand the nature of capital (not money, but time).

But now, no one in the Imperium can comprehend these things anymore.

He picked up his teacup, drank all the cold tea, poured another cup, and continued:

But those are merely tools. The most important thing in our historical texts has never been the tools, as useful as they may be.

The most important work in our historical texts is On the Law of War and Peace.

It laid the foundation of order for the human federation during the Golden Age.

It enlightened humanity: even in war, there are rules. Even when facing enemies, humanity must share a common baseline.

The Master of Administratum did not answer Van Tulip immediately.

Your three-layered analysis is logically correct. But you missed the most important parts—the things the Golden Badge represents.

What is it that the Imperium relies on to make everyone believe that it will continue to exist?

The Master of Administratum's fingers tightened slightly on his knees.

Violence. Law. Discipline. Storytelling, Van Tulip counted them off one by one, as if taking inventory of old items. These are the four forms of rule in human history, and the four pillars that have allowed the Imperium to maintain the illusion of 'existence' for these ten thousand years.

Violence breeds obedience—but it requires your constant presence. If you have a million people to manage, you must constantly guard against a million potential rebels. Regimes maintained purely by violence do not last long.

Law draws boundaries—but it cannot control human hearts. Furthermore, the enforcement of law ultimately requires the backing of violence.

Discipline—this is a technique of one-time shaping with long-lasting effect. Once it finishes shaping a person, they require no supervision. They become their own jailer, and will even actively spread that discipline.

The Master of Administratum listened quietly.

What Van Tulip was saying and what he had just said felt like two sides of the same coin.

But discipline also has its limits, Van Tulip continued. It can only stop people from asking 'why,' but it cannot eliminate the question itself. Thus, there is a fourth layer—