Chapter 59: 59, from the Golden Age
Wu Jiarong did not.
A productivity on par with Forge World? Possible;
Living standards comparable to Garden World? Such examples were not unheard of.
But to possess both?
That was a joke.
Garden Worlds boasted beautiful environments, ample resource supplies, and superior quality of life; they usually served as administrative planets or trade hubs. Forge Worlds, on the other hand, often did not enjoy pleasant environments. The entire world would resemble a massive factory, where countless people had to toil and contribute not just sweat but blood and flesh.
Could these two things be simply merged?
Among the myriad stars within the empire’s domains, how many such examples could be found?
Could even the imperial capital Holy Terra achieve what Mr. Gu described?
She did not know.
Propaganda would say yes, but without having been there to see it with her own eyes, she dared not believe it readily.
If she couldn’t trust Holy Terra to be as Mr. Gu had said, much less could she believe it of this desolate backwater wasteland planet.
Rationally, she felt that Mr. Gu was just talking nonsense, pie in the sky.
The pie was big and round, yet so far-fetched and illusory it was almost laughable.
Yet, emotionally, she could sense Mr. Gu’s grand ambition.
Ambition, of course, couldn’t put food on the table. She once had aspirations to become a mechanic, or even go further to advance to a Mechanical Priest; but in the end, wasn’t she merely used to pay the empire’s taxes?
However, she felt she could believe in Mr. Gu’s ambition.
Believing he was ambitious was one thing; believing that the ambition could be realized was another.
But just believing in Mr. Gu’s ambition, she could roughly paint a picture in her mind that her Mr. Gu wouldn’t just tinker along, only thinking about scraping by, aggressively levying taxes, and skimming off the empire’s taxes every two years while enjoying the rest of the time.
Working under such a Mr. Gu seemed, maybe, and probably… to be a good opportunity she never had before?
Ten years ago, on a Forge World, she considered herself exceptionally talented and gifted. But back then, she only aspired to become a mechanic; aboard a starship with a dead end, her only thought was to find a decent man to marry, have children, and then coast along. Maybe retire when old and frail, but more likely, she might be destroyed along with “Quintet” in some battle, turning into just another piece of space debris.
Following a Mr. Gu and becoming his most crucial technical staff, her future achievements might not just be a mere mechanic or Mechanical Priest. Perhaps, she could have the chance to become a Mechanical Bishop, or even…
She dared not think further, ascending to a Sage was too difficult. Wasn’t such idle fantasy just as empty as Mr. Gu’s dreams of turning Rage Owl Star into a combination of Forge World and Garden World?
All of this was still far off, yet not so distant.
Indeed, Mr. Gu was currently impoverished and commanded a population barely breaking ten thousand, and even his administrative powers couldn’t reach the entire planet. But on the other hand, if Mr. Gu wielded great power now, would he even notice someone like her, a small technical officer? Surely it would be easy to attract a host of higher-level experts.
It was precisely now, in the early stages, that there was an opportunity to gift coal in snowy weather, to grow as Mr. Gu’s power expanded.
Besides, Mr. Gu still had the Black Box Manufacturer…
The value of this device was immeasurably precious.
Legend has it that they come from the distant Golden Age, a time before the Empire was even established, almost impossible to verify. It is said that, at that time, humankind was the master of the entire universe, and every human being had dignity, enjoyed the finest life, and could pursue any profession according to their interests, or choose not to work at all without any consequence.
The Black Box Manufacturer was a product of that era, designed to ensure that humans could easily and quickly acquire products in any environment. Interstellar colonizers, with only a black box, could swiftly establish suitable homes on a new desolate planet.
It was also with the help of black boxes that humans in the Golden Age managed to spread their footprints across the entire universe and maintain a fairly consistent level of technology in every world.
And now, the Empire’s technology is starkly different from that of the Golden Age.
Scientific research depends on archaeology; this is no joke.
A study that might take a forging world a hundred years to crack could be solved overnight with just a hint from some ancient ruins discovered one day.
In fact, many of the various technologies now widely used in the Empire have been restored through archaeology, yet they are not even one percent as advanced as those from the Golden Age. The precious Titan Giant Armor might have just been the kind of vehicle a lumberjack drove back in the Golden Era.
And the likes of the Black Box Manufacturer are, well, the utmost priority in archaeological… er, I mean scientific research.
This device can directly produce finished goods and also has extremely high research value.
Although the three types of black boxes that seem to have appeared in Mr. Gu’s hands only produce items that are already commonplace within the Empire, having no value in themselves. After all, which decent world can’t produce rifles, alloy steel, or Grindstone Engines now?
However, it is the black box itself that is tremendously valuable.
The output isn’t that important, but the technology from the Golden Age that is encapsulated within the black box itself is enough to drive the Mechanical Church mad.
…
Gu Hang was listening carefully as Wu Jiarong briefed him on the situation.
Some things he knew from rummaging through his memories, others he did not.
These messages were important, but perhaps not so crucial.
According to Wu Jiarong, he had virtually dismissed the idea of selling black box manufacturers. It’s not that he couldn’t sell them at all; after all, it would take effort for others to forcibly take them. Buying them could also be seen as a more efficient approach.
However, Gu Hang would not sell them.
It was too dangerous.
Compared to the Sect of Mechanics, whose power is immense across the entire Empire, he, a mere governor, was insignificant.
What’s more dangerous was that if he sold a few units, wouldn’t the Mechanical Church keep an eye on him? Desire to acquire more? Or eager to find out how exactly he obtained the precious black boxes?
As for why this wasn’t such an important matter, it’s because Rage Owl Star was too remote, too inconspicuous. It was difficult for anything that happened here to reach the ears of the Sect of Mechanics.
For now, Rage Owl Star’s interstellar communication was solely with Quintet. If the news wasn’t leaked to the skies, it’s as if it never happened.
Moreover, Gu Hang wouldn’t ignore the essentials and chase the trivial, not using the black boxes when he had them.
He had been cautious before, but inevitably, some things would slip through the cracks as long as they were put to use.
In the future, he would be even more careful.
At the same time, he also needed someone to lend him a hand.
Gu Hang’s gaze turned towards Wu Jiarong, filled with expectation.