Chapter 181
Chapter 181
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 181
Chapter Title: Space Fortress Proposal
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*
“So, you just snapped it up?”
“Yeah. It’s not like I could turn it down when they were handing it over.”
“That makes sense, but…….”
Shia bit her lip and groaned.
That was her reaction after I told her I’d taken ownership of the colony.
“And even all the business rights…….”
“Isn’t it great?”
“What do you mean, isn’t it great? Of course it is!”
She was showing a passionate response for the first time in ages.
But I got it.
From her perspective, the colony was practically a treasure.
It was a straightforward fix for the issues that could crop up from mass migration.
I could use it right away to house the migrants stuck without a place to go, and once the Styx frontline stabilized, repurpose it for tourism to create jobs, just like originally planned.
“Then I’ll leave it in your hands.”
“Yes, don’t worry.”
“Nothing else holding things up?”
“Nope. Business as usual. Aside from all the people dying to meet you, Leonard-nim.”
“I could make time for anyone decent.”
“If someone like that shows up, I’ll let you know.”
I just nodded.
There’d always been plenty of people wanting to meet me.
But most were after nothing special—just hoping to latch onto my exploits or influence.
It was the same after arriving at the Styx frontline, only worse now that I had the temporary commander title. The flies were swarming thicker than ever.
If I tried handling every one personally, I’d need a hundred bodies.
Luckily, Shia’s staff handled it all flawlessly, so I didn’t have to lift a finger.
“Oh, and Rafflesia’s top councilor keeps requesting a meeting. Might be worth seeing him, don’t you think?”
“Tell him I’ll make time later. Heading back is the priority right now.”
“Got it.”
Shia tapped at her panel, jotting something down.
Then she gave me a quick bow.
“I’ll be off, then.”
“Good work. Take care until we meet again.”
I’d be taking the AD Drive from here straight to Acheron, so this was goodbye to Shia.
She was heading off to Lachesis separately.
I watched her retreating figure fade away, then glanced to the side and asked.
Albert was there, looking paler than usual.
“You wanna go too?”
“Of course. Right now, it feels like I’m being dragged off to hell.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t leave you twisting in the wind alone—you won’t be lonely.”
“That’s zero comfort.”
I chuckled.
“Think about it. The first job I hand you is taking control of the Liberation Corps. You really think you’d feel safe in my shoes?”
“You were planning to send me there?”
“Why? Not interested?”
“It’s not that…….”
The Liberation Corps.
Sure, the members looked like a bunch of punk psychos right now, but that was just the early days.
Give it time, let it grow, and order would fall into place.
Plus, a ton of promising talents were signing on.
‘With Albert in my pocket, I can’t just let it sit idle.’
My top priority right now was building power.
Securing the Styx frontline and the surrounding sectors to wield real influence—that came first.
Personal strength was secondary.
And controlling the Liberation Corps? That was a card too good to pass up.
With their backing, we could balloon bigger than in the original story.
Especially tempting: they attracted ability users like flies to honey.
Sure, without core weapons, even ability users were prone to getting wrecked out of nowhere—but I had ways to fix that later.
“But… can a superhuman just build something like an illegal private militia?”
“So what?”
I shrugged at Albert’s skeptical look.
It was all a matter of degree—everyone did it.
“Just don’t go too blatant about it. Didn’t you know? Superhuman unit commanders are basically above the law.”
“……What a boss I’ve got. You’re even more rotten than me.”
“Puhuhu!”
I burst out laughing.
Albert watched me for a moment, then cracked a grin and joined in.
*
Nine months since the Styx frontline took shape.
A lot had happened.
The raids that kicked off in the Okeanos Sector had spread to seven full sectors, and the frequency had ramped up too.
Our side’s forces hadn’t grown much in response, so things were getting tougher by the day.
Same for us superhumans, myself included.
The early months’ breathing room had vanished—we were run ragged, no time to blink.
Daily space jaunts, catnaps on troop transports with the soldiers we’d bled alongside.
But we held.
Roze and Merdi’s heroics carried a lot of weight, the rest of the unit pitched in hard, and I wasn’t slacking either.
My detection skills alone—pinpointing every hatchery on a planet in a single day—proved invaluable.
Knock out those underground nests before they could stir trouble, and accidents plummeted.
That’s why our superhuman unit’s hatchery control prowess was back in the spotlight now.
Anyway, after grinding through nine months like that, things finally started looking up.
Civilian evacuations wrapped up, easing the military’s load, and planetary fortifications chugged along nicely.
The frontline locked solid across those seven sectors, raids fluctuating at a steady clip.
Too soon to call it stable, but we were entering that phase.
I finally clawed back some breathing room.
Not that I could slack off—but I could shift focus from the frontline to other priorities.
‘What should I tackle?’
First thing that hit me once I had some headspace: to push to the ‘next stage,’ I needed the Styx frontline rock-solid.
Sure, coasting like this without a major incident would count as stable enough.
But that wasn’t my bar.
I wanted surplus forces—to venture into alien-held outer space while keeping the line airtight.
No way the current scale allowed that, no matter how hard we squeezed.
‘Blocked it too damn well.’
In the original story, the Styx frontline sprawled way wider.
Reason: botched initial response let it balloon.
If we’d flubbed it like canon, the line would’ve expanded, forcing more troops to hold it.
But deliberately letting planets fall? Off the table.
‘At least Revel Major General can’t chase pointless ambitions now.’
Couldn’t expect more from the Union.
Meant I had to boost forces myself.
So I mulled what I could pull off.
‘My biggest edge right now has to be… money.’
Funds piling up nonstop.
Overflowing since the fighter drone days, but post-energy amplification tech? Uncontrollable.
And it’d snowball worse going forward.
Fleet ops barely dented it—surplus everywhere.
So, what could I buy with all that?
‘…What can’t I?’
Stocking more battleships? Obvious must-do.
But first: prep to make raids safer.
Best way? Ramp up defense outposts.
‘Ones that double as garrisons would be ideal.’
Still felt like something was missing.
I racked my brain for a game-changer.
‘Pushing outer space means detaching fleet power. Need a raid stand-in for that…….’
Did such a thing even exist?
Battleships were non-negotiable in alien wars.
‘…Nah. One option left.’
Flashback: half a year back, first scrap on Antarogia planet.
I’d advised the commander to refit Black Yak’s shipyards into space fortresses.
It worked like a charm.
Those fortresses pulled double duty—secondary defense line against raids, packed with weapons to bolster fleet firepower. Casualties dropped as a result.
Heard there were teething issues at first.
Slow to maneuver, fragile frame that buckled under hits even with barriers, etc.
They split the shipyards into four to fix mobility.
Fortresses needed bulk, and shipyards were massive anyway—perfect fit.
Rest got sorted via refits and tweaks.
‘Build ’em as space fortresses from the ground up, way better.’
They’d been scrapped for flaws.
Money fixed most.
But some hurdles cash couldn’t touch.
Biggest: convincing the other Styx commanders.
Would they buy in?
Assuming they’d rubber-stamp anything ‘frontline helpful’ was naive.
Some would cling to the current fleet-plus-ground-outpost setup.
Even if I built them, sorting weapons, supplies, crews? Not my call.
Commanders’ buy-in was make-or-break—I couldn’t solo it.
‘Build one, prove it works, they’ll have to greenlight more.’
I had Revel Major General in my corner.
Our goals overlapped enough.
For his ideals, he’d back my stabilization push hard.
Figured he’d beg me to do it the second I pitched.
But when I laid out the plan in person, his first words blindsided me.
“……Now that’s a creative way to flush money down the toilet.”
Revel Major General scowled, like he couldn’t believe it.
“You serious?”
His stare probed like he was checking for brain damage.
“Yes.”
“Knew you had cash to burn since the independent unit days, but this? Whole other league.”
I got where he was coming from.
My pitch flew in the face of normal thinking.
Like dumping stacks on the ground.
Who shells out personal funds for space fortresses?
Not one—across the whole Styx frontline.
Sure, start small from Okeanos Sector, but the bill was insane either way.
“Sky-high costs. No payback. Effectiveness? Who knows.”
“I know.”
“Why not buy some backwater planet and build a ground paradise? Better for troop morale. If you’ve got spare capacity, let my guys use it too.”
I had to laugh at him trying to talk me out of it—opposite his own dreams.
“Might be.”
“Time for jokes?”
“Haha.”
“You’re no charity mogul. What nonsense is this?”
Revel Major General slumped back in his chair, exasperated.
I finally quit laughing and laid it out calmly.
“Antarogia already proved space fortresses work. Use that as a blueprint—slash costs.”
“Still not an amount one man foots.”
“Scale ’em down, sure. But with the cores I’ve stockpiled, engines are freebies. Oh, and my family could pitch in.”
Saying it out loud, it sounded legit doable.
“And it lines up with your goals, doesn’t it, Major General Revel?”
“Not via some cockamamie scheme like this. I planned to rally the military for short-term backing. Got allies who’d agree—once wouldn’t be tough.”
Seemed he’d prepped his own play.
But it wasn’t a sure thing.
Turning risky outer probes—alien-infested hellholes—into reality hinged on too much.
Allies might gel now, but come go-time, conservatives could rally and tank it.