150: Chapter 150 Hope from the 2K World
After leaving the meeting room, Fu Haoran found the Tech-Priest, Father Kallun.
The latter naturally knew the purpose of Fu Haoran's visit.
Father Kallun's mechanical bionic eye instantly glowed red, projecting the weapon adaptation analysis data onto a holographic screen. His metallic voice carried a devout praise for the Omnissiah:
"My Lord, the Omnissiah bears witness. Although the weapons from this Garden World are simple in design, they contain surprising machine spirit potential."
He first pointed to the first page of data, establishing a most intuitive understanding of their strength for everyone:
"The Mark III Iron-pattern Power Armor worn by the Iron Warriors Legion is the top-tier heavy armor specifically designed for siege and urban warfare during the Great Crusade."
"Armor plates have been thickened at the shins, forearms, thighs, chest, and abdomen. Combined with larger pauldrons and a reinforced helmet, it effectively prevents damage from munitions."
"Since the chest armor is extremely heavy, it is not reinforced on the back. Precisely because of this, the armor is perfectly suited for frontal confrontation and combat in enclosed and narrow environments."
"The frontal breastplate's equivalent homogeneous steel armor thickness exceeds the protection level of the frontal depleted uranium armor of this Garden World's M1A1 Main Battle Tank."
"Even the relatively thin top armor has an equivalent homogeneous steel armor thickness of six hundred millimeters."
"A Space Marine wearing this suit of armor can smash through a heavy truck head-on at sixty kilometers per hour with zero damage to the armor."
"Neural reaction speed is twenty times that of a mortal, and strength and endurance are more than thirty times the human limit."
Even though Fu Haoran was mentally prepared, he still sucked in a cold breath.
This wasn't just a soldier; this was essentially a humanoid main battle tank.
Father Kallun shifted the topic, his mechanical prosthetic hand tapping rapidly on the data pad to bring up the weapon modification plans:
"But this does not mean mortal forces are entirely helpless."
"We only need to perform targeted modifications on the weapons of this Garden World to achieve a qualitative leap."
Father Kallun was firmly convinced of this.
He was absolutely certain that this era, suspected to be the budding stage of Humanity's Golden Age, would bring forth the miracles of the Omnissiah.
Father Kallun continued, "Based on my comparisons, the 14.5mm anti-aircraft machine gun used by this Garden World, known as Blue Star, has a muzzle velocity of 1,005 meters per second and a muzzle energy exceeding 30,000 joules, far surpassing the Imperium's standard-issue stubber."
"We only need to bless the barrels, replace them with Adeptus Mechanicus hardened warheads and high-combustion propellants, and awaken the weapons' machine spirits. Their performance will completely crush the standard equipment of the Planetary Defense Force and easily penetrate their Carapace Armor."
"Regarding armored units, the PF98 120mm rocket launcher of this world has a native armor penetration depth exceeding 800mm of homogeneous steel, capable of piercing the side and rear armor of a leman russ tank."
"After equipping it with shaped-charge warheads made with a melta-energy explosive formula, even the frontal armor can sustain effective damage."
"Thirdly, and most crucially, the solution against Space Marines."
"The Javelin Anti-tank Missile of this world has a native top-attack mode penetration depth exceeding 1,100mm of homogeneous steel."
"Originally, it would be difficult to penetrate the front of Mark III Power Armor, but combined with the melta-energy explosive technology we just activated, the penetration depth can be increased to over 2,800mm after modifying the warhead."
"This metric far exceeds the defensive capabilities of the Mark III Power Armor's pauldrons."
"This is currently the only low-cost, high-feasibility solution for mortal troops to counter Space Marines."
Father Kallun flipped through the projections and added:
"In addition, Blue Star's satellite positioning system combined with individual digital radios provides positioning accuracy and anti-jamming capabilities far superior to the simple communication beads commonly used in the Imperium's Hive Cities."
"The performance of their infrared night-vision goggles is on par with the Planetary Defense Force's standard-issue sights, and far superior to the civilian modified versions from Hive City workshops."
"Most importantly, even without an STC, we can obtain a massive quantity of these products as long as we are willing to place orders."
This was also what amazed Father Kallun the most.
This era had no STC, yet it could produce such staggering output.
One could only say, is this not the budding stage of Humanity's Golden Age?
"The Omnissiah bears witness. This Garden World must be a remnant from the budding of Humanity's Golden Age, a gift to us from the Machine God."
Father Kallun closed the data pad and bowed slightly to Fu Haoran.
"My Lord, the machine spirit bears witness. Although the design of these weapons is... somewhat backward, they perfectly fit our current battlefield needs."
"This is the only solution that can bridge the industrial gap between us and the Seven Hive Alliance in a short period."
Fu Haoran didn't hesitate and made the decision immediately: "The core task ahead is to establish a complete military procurement, modification, and transportation system in this... Garden World."
"High-precision machine tools, individual weapons, anti-tank equipment, and communication devices—all are to be prioritized for procurement."
"Use the minerals from the Hive City to trade for equipment from this Garden World, and then use the Garden World's weaponry to win our war."
Fu Haoran said earnestly, "Furthermore, although those Genestealer cultists will have to be purged sooner or later, I do not wish to see guerrilla warfare degenerate into the primitive tactic of commanding suicidal charges."
Fu Haoran said earnestly, "Furthermore, although those Genestealer cultists will have to be purged sooner or later, I do not wish to see guerrilla warfare degenerate into the primitive tactic of commanding suicidal charges."
"I want to inflict the maximum losses on the enemy with the minimum cost."
"Wear them down bit by bit, and devour them bit by bit."
"Therefore, Father Kallun, I hope that moving forward, you will fully cooperate with my modification and upgrade plans."
...
Rong City.
In front of Cheng Beixiao sat a bowl of beef noodles, and beside it lay a printed set of self-surrender materials.
On his phone was the contact for a lawyer he had looked up long ago.
He still didn't believe it.
A fresh college graduate signs contracts worth tens of millions and gets a 500,000-yuan commission—if this wasn't a scam company, what was?
He picked up his chopsticks, but just as he was about to eat, his phone rang.
Zhang Xiangyang's voice boomed from the receiver: "Xiao Cheng! Thank you so much!"
"The ore test results are out; the quality is even better than Australian ore! I'm hosting tonight at the Peace Hotel. All the big bosses will be there. You must come!"
Cheng Beixiao was completely stunned.
Before he could react, the CEOs of Baowu and HBIS called one after another.
They were all full of thanks and invitations. Everyone was saying the ore was real, the quality was top-tier, and the contracts would continue to be fulfilled.
With trembling hands, he opened his banking app.
A new deposit notification popped up: [Your account ending in xxxx has received 4,200,000 RMB. Note: Project Commission.]
Adding in his previous salary of several hundred thousand, there was nearly five million in his card.
Cheng Beixiao sat in the noodle shop, staring at the phone screen as hot tears splashed onto it.
He had only been working for six months, and he already had 5 million in savings?!
Cheng Beixiao remembered three months ago, staying up until dawn in his rented room looking at recruitment apps, unable to even scrape together next month's rent.
He remembered his first internship, being scolded to his face by the procurement manager, not even daring to lift his head.
He remembered last night, when he had written his surrender materials and thought about how to explain himself to the police.
It wasn't a dream.
He hadn't joined a scam company?
Cheng Beixiao wiped his face, picked up the beef noodles that had already gone soggy, and ate them in large gulps.
He drank every last drop of the broth, and it felt as if his strength had finally returned.
He went home that very night.
When he inserted the key into the lock, it wasn't too late yet.
The living room light was still on. Cheng Beixiao pushed the door open and saw his parents sitting on the sofa.
"You're back?" His mother stood up, looking him up and down. "Didn't you say you were going on a business trip? Why are you back so suddenly? Did something happen with work?"
Relieved, Cheng Beixiao said with a smile, "No, the trip was just canceled at the last minute, so I came back."
As he spoke, Cheng Beixiao pulled his phone from his pocket, pulled up his bank statement, and handed it over.
"Mom, Dad, I got paid."
His mother took the phone, squinted at it for a long time, and then handed it to his father.
"Old Cheng, your eyes are better. Look at how many digits this is?"
His father stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and took the phone. He stared at the screen, his thumb counting the digits one by one.
Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands, hundred thousands.
With the 70,000-yuan salary plus various subsidies, it was actually 100,000!
His finger paused for a moment, and he brought the phone closer, counting again.
"One hundred thousand?" His voice was a bit dry. "This is... for one month?"
Cheng Beixiao nodded, then shook his head. "Usually it's 70,000. It's only this much when I'm busy with business trips."
Cheng Beixiao was being slightly modest.
His mother snatched the phone back, looked at it again, and her eyes instantly turned red.
"My son earns 70,000 a month? 70,000?"
She stood up, walked a few steps in the living room, sat back down, and then stood up again.
His father didn't say a word, just reached out to feel for the cigarette pack on the coffee table. He fumbled for a while without finding it, even though it was right by his hand.
Cheng Beixiao handed him the pack. He pulled one out but didn't light it, holding it between his fingers, his lips trembling slightly.
"Didn't you say... when you first went, the base salary was 7,000?" His father finally spoke, his voice very low.
"I thought they had made a mistake back then, I didn't expect it to really be this much." Cheng Beixiao didn't dare tell the whole truth, because he hadn't believed it himself at the time.
"And... there's a commission?" His mother's voice changed pitch. "You said before your company also has commissions?"
Cheng Beixiao didn't dare mention the size of the commission, only giving a small "Mhm."
His mother clutched the phone, staring at that bank statement, looking at it back and forth a dozen times.
"Old Cheng, look at this. Are the words on here real? Could it be Photoshopped?"
His father didn't answer. He just stood up, walked to the balcony, and turned his back to the living room.
Cheng Beixiao saw his dad's shoulders shaking.
He wasn't crying.
He was holding back tears.
His mother finally returned the phone to him, took his hand, and squeezed it hard.
"Beixiao, tell Mom honestly. Your company... it's not doing anything illegal, is it?"
"No."
"Really not?"
"Really not."
His mother stared at him for several seconds, then nodded, let go of his hand, and turned to go to the kitchen.
"I'll heat up some food for you. You definitely haven't eaten yet."
Cheng Beixiao sat on the sofa, looking at his mother's back and then at his father's back on the balcony.
He remembered Uncle Zhang from next door, who would brag to everyone that his son earned over 10,000 a month.
He remembered the family gathering during New Year's, when his second aunt asked what major he studied and if it was easy to find a job. His mom had smoothed things over for him, saying, "It's alright, it's alright."
Cheng's mother held his hand and repeatedly exhorted him: "Son, with such a good job, you must work hard. You can't be careless; you have to be worthy of the salary your boss gives you!"
Cheng's father followed up: "A man should focus on his career. Jobs are hard to come by these days. Whatever the boss says, you do. The boss's word is law. If he tells us to go east, we never go west!"
Cheng Beixiao nodded heavily.
Just then, Cheng Beixiao's work phone rang. He took it out and saw a new task:
[1. Coordinate with domestic machine tool factories to procure high-precision five-axis linkage machining centers, CNC lathes, and grinders. Military-grade is preferred.]
[2. Coordinate with domestic defense enterprises to procure individual heavy weapons, anti-tank missiles, optical sights, and communication equipment. Develop a plan based on the standard of a full integrated brigade.]
[3. Ensure compliance for the entire procurement, transportation, and export process. Provide a complete plan within one week.]
Beixiao looked at the list and was completely dumbfounded.
Yesterday he was still celebrating not going to prison, and today the boss wanted him to buy military-grade machine tools and anti-tank missiles?
These things were strictly controlled domestically; you couldn't just buy them with money.
Holding the list, his hands shook uncontrollably, and his heart began to race again.
But the next second, he remembered the steel plant CEOs calling him "Director Cheng" and the nearly five million yuan commission in his card.
He took a deep breath, printed out the list, and gritted his teeth.
The boss gave him a chance; he couldn't wimp out.
No matter how difficult it was, he had to get this done.
"Mom, Dad, the company sent a new job. I have to go."
His mother checked the time; it was already past 9:00 PM.
"It's so late..."
Cheng Beixiao said with a smile, "Mom, a 70,000-yuan monthly salary isn't that easy to earn. The company requires me to be on call 24 hours a day. They even bought my plane ticket—first class. If I don't work hard, why should I have this job?"
Cheng's mother thought that made sense and stopped trying to persuade him.
...
A few days later, in a secure meeting room of the National Security Bureau in the Imperial Capital.
Old Zhou slammed Cheng Beixiao's procurement list onto the table.
"Military-grade five-axis machine tools, anti-tank missiles, military-grade night vision..."
He flipped through page by page, his voice growing deeper with every turn.
"All of these have export controls. What is he, a Major General in the America National Guard, doing buying these things?"
Qin Zhengfeng pushed up his glasses: "He broke the Australian iron ore monopoly and saved domestic steel plants over a hundred billion. Based on that alone, we owe him this favor."
"Owe a favor?" Someone stood up abruptly, their chair sliding back half a meter and hitting the wall with a dull thud. "Old Qin, wake up! This isn't a matter of favors!"
"He's a Chinese person serving as a Major General in America, running an electric car factory, holding South America mines, and now he wants to buy military equipment. You tell me, what is he going to do with these things?"
The meeting room fell silent for a moment.
Someone chimed in: "We've investigated. His little bit of National Guard funding couldn't possibly support such a large procurement volume."
"These things are most likely not for America use."
Old Zhou turned around and stared at the speaker: "If they're not for America use, then who are they for? Who?!"
Suddenly, someone spoke up: "Do you think... he might actually want to build up his own forces and start an independence movement..."
Everyone: "..."
The last time someone suggested this, they treated it as a joke.
This time, they were a little afraid, but also a little... expectant.
If someone actually did that, regardless of whether they succeeded, they would definitely get their own chapter in the history books.
The family tree could no longer contain such a titan.
If he succeeded, world history would probably need a whole new volume.
As for the idea of reselling the equipment and technology... Heh, it wasn't that they looked down on people, but those who could use it wouldn't necessarily want it, and those who wanted it wouldn't know how to use it.
Old Zhou took a deep breath and said, "It's not that I won't help him."
"But have you considered that the precision, performance, and specifications of the equipment he's procuring all exceed civilian standards?"
"Five-axis linkage CNC machine tools can be used to process aero-engine blades."
"Anti-tank missiles, even the oldest models, can penetrate the frontal armor of active main battle tanks."
He turned to look at Qin Zhengfeng.
"Old Qin, you say he helped the country and we should return the favor. I don't disagree. But for this favor, how we return it and how much we give—we need to have a bottom line."
"He says it's for mine security. Do you believe him?"
Qin Zhengfeng was silent for a few seconds. He picked up his teacup, blew on the surface, didn't drink, and set it down again.
"I don't believe him," he said.
The meeting room was silent again.
"But just because I don't believe him doesn't mean we can't sell," Qin Zhengfeng looked up at Old Zhou. "My point is, we can sell, but we can't sell so directly."
"What do you mean?"
Qin Zhengfeng suddenly smiled and said, "We can play the edge and sell openly within the scope of compliance."