"In this world, simply surviving is already a challenge."
"We live in mines abandoned before the war. We use the most primitive tools, even digging with our bare hands, just to exchange scraps from other survivors' camps. We never hurt anyone—we only wanted to live. But even so, some people have cast greedy eyes upon us."
The thin, dark-skinned man kneeling in front of Gu Hang was named Patel. He wasn't tall or strong, and his skin looked rough under his dirty, tattered clothes. Judging by his appearance, it was clear he was telling the truth—he was one of those who scavenged for food in the old, abandoned mines.
Patel continued: "Eight days ago, a group of wasteland bandits calling themselves the 'Dead Prisoners' killed seventeen of us and kidnapped forty-two more. God-Emperor, the youngest among them is only four years old! They demanded a ransom, and we paid it. But they only grew greedier—not only did they refuse to release the captives, but they also demanded even more from us."
"I went to Fuxing City, found the Alliance officials, and begged for their help. They sent someone to issue a warning to the 'Dead Prisoners,' telling them to stand down..."
"Heh, a warning... The day before yesterday, those robbers slaughtered two children at our doorstep, tore that worthless warning paper to pieces, and smeared it with their blood. They’ve given us three days to pay double the ransom or they'll attack our mines, kill every one of us, and take everything we have."
"We’re at our wit's end. Some people say we should run, while others insist we should fight them with hoes and fists, even though they have guns and cannons. But I know there’s still hope. A new governor has taken charge of this world, and I came to you, Governor. I beg you, please save us."
Patel bowed his head, sincerity in every word. From his vantage point, all he could see were Gu Hang’s boots—soft leather, with elegant ribbons and golden buckles.
He didn’t know how long it would take the 900 people of his waste-mining society, working tirelessly, to earn even a single pair of boots like that.
The boots shifted in front of him as Gu Hang crossed his legs, settling into a more comfortable posture.
"Why did you go to the Alliance before coming to me?" Gu Hang asked.
Patel hesitated for a moment, then whispered: "We are members of the Alliance. It’s their duty to handle this kind of situation..."
Gu Hang shook his head. "You believed that because you're members of the Alliance, they’d protect you. And you saw me, an 'airborne governor,' thinking I wouldn’t last two years in this position. Just like the governors before me, you assumed I’d be executed for failing to meet the Empire’s tax demands. You didn’t consider me important, so you didn’t come to me until the Alliance failed you and you had no other choice."
"No! I never thought that!" Patel denied, trembling with fear. He clenched his teeth and made a bold promise: "If you save us, we’ll give everything we have! For the next two years, we’ll pay more than the imperial tax demands!"
Gu Hang sighed in disappointment. "Let me put it this way, Patel. You’ve known for a month that I’ve been on this planet, and that my camp is not far from your mines. But you never came to see me until disaster struck. Now, you kneel in front of me and say, 'Your Excellency, please save us.' But deep down, you never considered me your true governor. You didn’t even believe my declaration on the day I arrived."
"I said I would rebuild this wasteland, and that everyone who submits to me would live a better life. But you didn’t believe it. Many of you still don’t. You only see me as another tax collector. You think that by paying taxes, I’ll save you. But how can you pay those taxes? Based on the Empire’s standards, you’d never be able to afford them, even if every one of you worked yourselves to the bone in those mines."
Patel’s face grew more anxious. "Your Excellency, I believe in you! Please save us."
He moved to bow his head again, intending to smash it against the ground in desperation, but Gu Hang stopped him.
A pair of hands lifted him up effortlessly by the shoulders.
Gu Hang put his arm around Patel’s shoulders, completely unfazed by the dirt and grime.
"There’s no need to kneel, no need to bow. I will help those of you who work hard. Those bandits, who contribute nothing, are our common enemy. But they’re just a small problem. Rebuilding the world—that’s the real challenge. And this isn’t just talk. Since you’ve come to me for help, I will save you, not just from the 'Dead Prisoners.' I’ll help you build a territory, where you have food, clothing, and safety. Now, tell me—do you believe in me?"
Patel’s tears fell. Whether from genuine emotion, relief, or fear, it wasn’t clear. "I believe! I truly believe! From now on, the Wudong Society will fight for your ideals!"
"No," Gu Hang corrected him, "This should be our shared ideal."
He patted Patel’s shoulder. "Go rest for a while. I’ll gather my troops and rescue your people soon."
"God-Emperor bless you! My compatriots and I are deeply grateful!"
As Patel followed the guard out of the barracks, filled with gratitude, Gu Hang turned to the man standing at attention behind him—a soldier in uniform.
"Captain Yan," Gu Hang said, "your eyes tell me you’re confused."
Captain Yan Fangxu saluted and hesitated before speaking. "Governor... are we really going to help the Wudong Society? This wasteland sees such incidents nearly every day. We can’t possibly intervene in all of them."
Gu Hang’s tone grew serious. "It seems, Captain Yan, that you don’t believe in my declaration either."
"I wouldn’t dare," Yan Fangxu said cautiously, though he still seemed unsure. "But with all due respect, Governor, you only have two years. In that time, we must at least meet the Empire’s minimum tax quota. Otherwise..."
Gu Hang finished his sentence. "Otherwise, I’ll be dismissed and executed. Yes, I’m aware. But, Captain Yan, we’ve been on this planet for a month. You’ve seen what it’s like. This is a post-apocalyptic world. Most of the land is uninhabitable. Waste energy storms rage across the landscape, alien mutants roam freely, and the survivors live in constant fear of raiders and predators.
It’s already hard enough for them to survive. Collecting taxes from them is a death sentence. The conflict between imperial taxation and planetary development is Star Fury’s greatest challenge. All the previous governors focused on taxation, and they all met the same fate. But I’m different. I believe in development. The more prosperous we become, the lighter the tax burden. And that’s how we succeed."
Yan Fangxu sighed. "You’re right. Development is the way forward. But development takes time—and time is exactly what we lack. Your first term is only two years, and in that time, we must submit at least a quarter of the Empire’s tax quota. Nu Xiaoxing has always managed to deliver only one-eighth. That leaves a massive gap to fill. Doubling the planet’s output in two years is..."
"That," Gu Hang said with a smile, "depends on my abilities. And I happen to have some confidence in that."
Just as he spoke, a message flashed in front of his eyes—one only he could see:
[1st Servant Light Infantry Battalion (300 soldiers) has completed training. Troop level raised to T5.]
[Due to equipment limitations and personnel quality, further training and improvement are not possible.]
Gu Hang’s smile widened. He patted the still-worried Captain Yan on the shoulder and said, "Let’s gather the troops. It’s time to bring justice to our neighbors."
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