The sun rose on a changed world.
The Shattered Jaw Canyon was a graveyard of metal and magic. The wreck of the Titan Mark I lay smoking in the snow, a monument to the impossible victory. Around it, the frozen bodies of City Guards and Sect Disciples were being efficiently stripped by the Mining Drones, which had been repurposed for "Sanitation Duty."
Jiang Chen sat on a crate of ammunition near the cave entrance. He was bandaged, his left arm in a sling where the Titan's control feedback had nearly snapped his radius.
In his good hand, he held a ring.
It was made of platinum, inlaid with a single, deep blue sapphire. Elder Mo's Spatial Ring.
"System. Crack it."
[Encryption Level: Golden Core Spiritual Imprint.][Bypassing via Brute Force (Energy Cost: 500 EU)... Success.]
The contents dumped out onto the table. It wasn't a mountain of gold, but it was far more valuable.
50 Medium-Grade Spirit Stones. (Equivalent to 5,000 Low-Grade. Pure, dense energy.)
The "White Cloud Scripture". (A cultivation manual. Useless to Jiang Chen, but invaluable data for the Bio-Lab.)
A Sect Token (Elder Rank).
A Map of the Grand Xia Empire's Northern Region.
Jiang Chen unfolded the map. Beiluo City was a tiny dot. To the south lay Iron-Blood City (a military fortress) and to the east, the Sect Territories.
He had killed a City Lord. That was rebellion. The Empire would not ignore it forever. But the Empire was vast, and news traveled slow in winter.
"Old Wu," Jiang Chen called out.
The old man hurried over. He was wearing a new coat—a City Guard officer's coat, dyed black. He looked sharper, less like a servant and more like a minister.
"The prisoners?" Jiang Chen asked.
"400 survivors, Your Highness. Most are City Guards who surrendered. They are... confused. They expect you to execute them."
Jiang Chen stood up, wincing slightly. "Let's go speak to our new employees."
The 400 prisoners sat in the snow, surrounded by the seventeen original "Riflemen" (now the 1st Platoon). They shivered, eyeing the black muzzles of the AK-47s.
When Jiang Chen approached, a ripple of fear went through them. They had seen him crush an Immortal with a metal giant.
Jiang Chen didn't shout. He didn't monologue. He signaled to Li.
Li kicked open a crate. Inside were steaming loaves of bread—freshly baked by the automated ovens using the grain stocks.
"Eat," Jiang Chen commanded.
The prisoners hesitated. Then, one starving guard grabbed a loaf. Then another. Soon, the sound of tearing bread filled the air.
"City Lord Fatong is dead," Jiang Chen said, his voice carrying over the chewing sounds. "He marched you out here to die for his vanity. I killed him."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"Beiluo City has no Lord. The gangs will be looting the granaries right now. Your wives and children are unprotected."
The guards stopped eating. They looked at each other. Panic began to set in.
"You have two choices," Jiang Chen continued. "Choice A: You walk back into the snow, unarmed, and try to save your families alone."
He pointed to the pile of captured spears and armor.
"Choice B: You swear loyalty to Imperial Industries. You take up your weapons. You march back to Beiluo behind my banner. And you restore order not as dogs of a fat lord, but as soldiers of the New Order."
A silence stretched. Then, the Captain who had speared Fatong stood up. His name was Han.
"Will... will the Industries pay us?" Han asked.
"Standard contract," Jiang Chen said. "Silver. Food. Heating."
Han knelt in the snow. "First Battalion, awaiting orders."
The rest of the 400 men knelt.
[Workforce Updated: +400 Military Personnel.][Loyalty: Moderate (Mercenary).]
The march back to Beiluo was not a slog; it was a parade of efficiency.
Jiang Chen didn't walk. He rode in the "Mule"—a six-wheeled, all-terrain transport truck he had fabricated using the Titan's leftover parts and the wheels from the supply sleds. It was ugly, boxy, and loud, but to the medieval peasants, it was a chariot of the gods.
When they reached Beiluo, the city was indeed burning.
Smoke rose from the market district. The "Black Snake Gang," sensing the power vacuum, was looting the shops.
"Platoon 1," Jiang Chen radioed from the truck cab. "Clear the market. Rules of Engagement: Lethal for looters. Non-lethal for civilians."
The truck smashed through the wooden city gates.
CRASH.
The looters looked up, freezing as the metal beast roared onto the cobblestones. The 1st Platoon dismounted from the back, rifles raised.
"Drop it!" Li shouted.
A gangster laughed, holding a torch. "Who are you? The dead Prince's ghost?" He threw the torch at a shop window.
BANG.
Li didn't hesitate. The gangster fell.
"Secure the street!"
It took three hours. It wasn't a war; it was police action. The precision of the firearms, combined with the discipline of the new troops, crushed the gangs.
By sunset, Jiang Chen stood on the balcony of the City Lord's Mansion. The fire was out. The streets were patrolled by men in black armbands.
Old Wu walked onto the balcony, holding a ledger.
"We have secured the treasury, Your Highness. Fatong was... stealing from the tax funds. We have enough gold to buy grain for two years."
"Good," Jiang Chen said. "But gold is heavy. We need infrastructure."
He looked out over the city. It was a slum. No sewers. No insulation. Just misery.
"Old Wu, draft a proclamation. The Reconstruction Act."
"We are going to rebuild the city?"
"No," Jiang Chen corrected. "We are going to industrialize it. Beiluo is no longer a city. It is Sector 01."
He turned back to the room. He needed to plan. The Sect would return. The Empire would investigate. He needed walls that could tank a Golden Core. He needed guns that didn't need him to pilot a suicide mech.
"System," Jiang Chen thought. "Open Tier 2: The Age of Steel."
[Tier 2 Requirements Met.][New Blueprints Available:]
Concrete Factory (Mass Production).
Steel Mill (Bessemer Process).
Power Plant (Coal/Spirit Hybrid).
Weaponry:Bolt-Action Rifles (Mauser 98k), Mortars (81mm), Landmines.
Jiang Chen smiled. The AK-47s were hard to print individually. But stamped steel bolt-action rifles? He could equip an army of thousands.
"Han," Jiang Chen called the Guard Captain.
"Sir!" Han saluted.
"Close the city gates. No one leaves. No one enters without a permit. We are going into lockdown."
"For how long, Sir?"
"Until we have enough bullets to kill a god."