"This treatment is practically raising Death Soldiers..."
The employees, who had never experienced such treatment, expressed their amazement one after another, while the veteran employees smiled without saying a word.
They weren't that disloyal.
When the veteran employees saw the Death Soldiers, they thought they were just fence-sitters.
A veteran employee of the Cosmic Junk Company nearby heard this, chuckled, and patted him on the shoulder: "What are you thinking? We don't do that here. The Boss said that people have to live like human beings first to have the energy to work and the mind to talk about loyalty or disloyalty."
"Hey, tell me, when you were over there, did the higher-ups take you seriously?"
The employee swallowed his food and shook his head with a complex expression: "Forget about being taken seriously; it was considered an act of kindness if they didn't deduct too much of your money. Tool wear and tear were deducted from wages, plus housing fees, meal fees... there were so many categories I couldn't remember them all. If you made even a slight mistake, you could forget about this month's performance bonus. And don't tell anyone, but actually, even those impressive group leaders had to pay for their own mecha repairs."
"Sigh..."
The mess that the Market Development Department caused last time was cleaned up by the Strategic Investment Department. On such a fringe planet, especially one right across from the Cosmic Junk Company, the selection of personnel was indeed meticulously carried out.
However, there were always oversights. Just as Aventurine never expected that Topaz's trusted informant—someone who had spent half their life in stocks—was actually a complete idiot, causing Epsilon's stock to drop directly to... ahem, anyway, the supervisor who was previously appointed here was quite the'scraper.'
What was he scraping? Naturally, it was the credit points of his subordinate employees.
After all, the Interstellar Peace Corporation has their latest and trendiest technology.
Intelligent Worker technology!
This was much more useful than artificial intelligence; if it broke, it could fix itself, the price was lower, and it wouldn't just go on strike.
After all, to the Interstellar Peace Corporation, those below were just another type of replaceable and consumable part; it was more 'economical' to simply replace them with new ones. After all, the universe is full of people working hard just for a bite to eat.
However, after the supervisor was taken away, the quality of life in this branch managed by Caelus rose dramatically.
Free cafeterias, dormitory renovations, and the withheld funds were also being verified and returned one after another—though the process was a bit slow.
"Does the Boss not keep his management methods or anything a secret?"
A junior manager who had jumped ship asked the veteran employee next to him in confusion.
To be honest, a management style this transparent... was truly hard to imagine. He had even compiled a management manual and communication skills book, placed on the shelf for anyone to read.
Though sometimes it was used to prop up table legs.
"Hide? Why would he hide it?"
"Then... if other companies also learn this and improve their treatment, won't we... lose our advantage?" he couldn't help but press further.
The veteran employee laughed and pointed at the busy factory buildings outside the cafeteria window: "Advantage? You think our advantage is just this bit of food and housing? You still haven't understood."
"According to what our weekend interest class teacher said... this is called an 'Open Scheme.' The Boss doesn't care if others learn this. It's more like if others know and don't learn, the Boss wins; if others know and learn it, the Boss still wins."
He lowered his voice, carrying the mystery of someone who had been through it: "Our advantage is here." He tapped his temple. "It's the Boss's ability to lead everyone and use what others see as 'junk' to build this dead land into what it is now, piece by piece! It's the fact that even if the other side also provides food and housing, we can still use parts scavenged from trash heaps to build machines that work better than their brand-new equipment! It's the fact that even if they offer double the salary, the people here would rather take less to work with the Boss because they feel happy and have something to look forward to!"
He patted the still-confused newcomer: "The Boss often mutters that it's better to teach a man how to fish than to give him a fish. What he teaches everyone is how to live well and with dignity anywhere. He can't wait for everyone in the universe to learn this set of things. When that time comes and everyone's life is better, wouldn't that be the Boss's greatest 'win'?"
Huh?
You can even win like that?
This wasn't the Interstellar Peace Corporation's 'pie-in-the-sky' winning philosophy, but a true sense of being able to find an angle to win from anywhere, and it was a real... win.
If you learn my things, then you have joined me; if you don't learn my things, then you cannot defeat me.
Therefore, Caelus only has winning, and winning big.
Looking at the faces around him brimming with energy and expectation, and then recalling the dead and calculating atmosphere back at the Interstellar Peace Corporation, the remaining doubts in the newcomer's heart finally vanished completely. He nodded vigorously, and the speed at which he shoveled food increased a bit... "Hey, hey, hey, your company's new supervisor is coming, stop pulling at me!"
Caelus was being pulled by a large group of people.
"Waa! Please don't leave! We need you!"
"I signed an employment contract with the Interstellar Peace Corporation for a whole Amber Era... Please don't leave!"
Covered in people, Caelus helplessly shuffled toward his Cosmic Junk Company step by step, trying his best not to use too much force to avoid hurting the people hanging onto him.
"I was only helping your company manage things temporarily, I didn't actually intend to take you in! Let go quickly, I'm going back to my own company!"
"Waa! So heartless!"
"The past events, the past events, do you really not remember any of them! In any case, for the sake of our hundred days together, you should think about our happy times!"
"I've never felt that being a boss was happy, let go of me already!"
Caelus shuffled step by step, for fear that if he used too much force, he might accidentally step on someone's hand.
The scene was once very chaotic and comical. The employees of the Cosmic Junk Company were on the opposite side watching the fun, some munching on melon seeds, some recording videos with their handheld terminals, and occasionally pointing and commenting.
"Hey, look at that one, he's really holding onto the leg tightly."
"The Boss is still too soft-hearted; if it were me, I would have done a shoulder throw long ago."
"Tsk tsk, just what have they been pushed to..."
"Fortunately, I jumped ship quickly. I signed as a temporary worker at the Interstellar Peace Corporation, otherwise, I'd be just like them."
Caelus pointed toward the horizon and said, "Your new supervisor is here, don't scare them!"
"Waa! We don't want a new supervisor! We want you!" an employee hanging on his arm shouted heart-wrenchingly.
"Exactly! Can a new supervisor be as good as you? Can he let us eat our fill? Can he give us free dormitories?"
"Boss, don't leave, please don't leave! How can I live without you!"
The new supervisor was a woman, but everyone remained silent in front of their new superior.
"I'm so sorry," Caelus finally managed to "peel" the last person off his leg and straightened his wrinkled clothes. "Because I've been in charge here these past few days, the previous good-for-nothing... uh, former supervisor, caused a lot of resentment, so they might listen to me more."
They only knew the Emperor, not the supervisor.
Although these words weren't explicitly stated, the situation on site already explained everything.
However, the new female supervisor didn't feel offended or embarrassed by this. She just stood quietly to the side, a faint smile playing on her lips, observing the "mutiny-like" situation with interest.
"The Director's description seems to have been too conservative."
The supervisor said with a smile.
"I'm just temporarily helping to stabilize things; now it's time to hand over to you." Caelus raised an eyebrow. "By the way, this won't cause any negative impact on your company, will it?"
"Not at all. Each has their own management style, that's all I can say." The supervisor replied, "Everyone, I am your new supervisor. Mr. Caelus is an important partner of the company. Now, I will officially take over the work of the branch."
As her voice fell, silence filled the air. The employees looked at each other, no one responded, their gazes still involuntarily drifting towards Caelus.
Caelus cleared his throat: "Did you all hear that? Go do what you're supposed to do, don't stand around here!"
His words were more effective than anything else. The crowd reluctantly lined up in front of the new supervisor.
Even the team leaders looked at Caelus with such deep affection.
After all, not every superior would personally help you repair your mecha, or even let you reimburse the mecha repair fees.
And this superior was even from the opposing company.
They knew they were in for trouble when the new supervisor arrived, that's all they could say.
Boss, please take me with you, boss!
"I understand everyone's concerns. Mr. Caelus, in a short period, allowed everyone to experience... well, a completely different work experience." She paused, her gaze sweeping over faces filled with vigilance and reluctance. "I hereby promise that the reasonable rights Mr. Caelus fought for everyone—free cafeteria, improved accommodation standards, and channels to reclaim unreasonably deducted funds—will continue to be maintained and will be written into the branch's official regulations."
The tense expressions on many employees' faces eased slightly, but the suspicion in their eyes had not completely dissipated. Anyone could make empty promises.
The new supervisor seemed to see through their thoughts and continued: "My management style may differ from Mr. Caelus's. The company headquarters has new strategic expectations for Talia, and fulfilling these expectations requires the efforts of each and every one of you. I will not, nor do I need to, overturn measures that have proven effective."
However, it was clear that these words had little effect.
It all came down to empty promises.
Alas, no substance.
Alas, drawing big cakes.
Alas, an Amber Era employment contract.
Alas, why wasn't I a temporary worker?
All the temporary workers had already jumped to the Cosmic Junk Company to enjoy the good life, while these formally assessed and officially employed staff of the Interstellar Peace Corporation were still enjoying the blessings of the Interstellar Peace Corporation.
But all that was for later; after all, they were already tied to the company and couldn't leave.
The breach of contract penalty would be a huge amount of credit points... "The Family has sent us a formal email of greetings."
Dan Heng said to Caelus.
Dan Heng's spirits had improved quite a bit these past two days.
However, not by too much.
"The Family..."
Caelus nodded thoughtfully.
The Family.
Speaking of which, Caelus hadn't messaged Origami Bird... uh, Robin, since returning from Penacony last time.
"I'll handle The Family matters; diplomacy is my strong suit."
Dan Heng didn't hesitate: "Okay, I'll leave it to you."
Dan Heng's attitude towards Caelus was already one of considerable trust.
To what extent was this trust?
"Caelus must have his reasons for doing this"—this had almost become Dan Heng's first reaction to any of Caelus's unconventional actions.
This seemingly absurd yet thriving "Cosmic Junk Company" always saw Caelus, with his incredible methods, steer things towards an unexpected yet quite favorable outcome.
Invincible Tyrant God of War (Darkened): Are you there?
Origami Bird: I am.
Invincible Tyrant God of War (Darkened): Question, why did The Family send me a letter?
Origami Bird: Hmm?
Robin looked at the message on her phone, a little curious.
Origami Bird: Sorry, I'm actually not in Penacony right now... Invincible Tyrant God of War (Darkened): Okay, but where are you holding your concert?
Origami Bird: Hmm, I'll reveal my schedule a bit. My itinerary will be published on the official account of my foundation in ten minutes~ I'm going to a developing Galaxy. It was once ravaged by war and desolate, but now it's undergoing reconstruction under the command of a very courageous leader. How romantic!
Invincible Tyrant God of War (Darkened):?
Invincible Tyrant God of War (Darkened): Are you talking about Talia?
Origami Bird: That's right, this time I'm going to help out.
Invincible Tyrant God of War (Darkened): Hmm, you're quite patient, big star, to answer my questions in such detail.
Origami Bird: Ah, actually, I'm really interested in the "Miracle" established in this Galaxy.
Origami Bird: Because this is a rare sight in the Galaxy. Building a home on ruins, igniting hope in despair, bringing forgotten places back to life... I believe it must be a unique scenery.
Invincible Tyrant God of War (Darkened): Okay, then I wish you a pleasant journey.
Origami Bird: Hmm, I also wish you a pleasant mood, Mr. Invincible Tyrannosaurus War God.
Robin smiled gently.
Yes... Robin didn't know Caelus's name.
Hmm, this account was Caelus's private account. Not only did he not post on Moments, but his personalized signature and avatar were all system defaults.
He just perfunctorily changed his nickname.
"I'm really looking forward to meeting that [Emperor]. He must be a very kind person."
Robin was already on a galactic tour. Previously, while in Kasberlinyat-VIII, she was hit by a stray bullet in the neck while rushing to the front lines to save lives on the planet.
And to see a desolate place brought back to life, Robin was willing to go there and sing one of her songs.
She softly hummed an unfinished melody, ethereal notes flowing through the lounge, like fragments caught during a burst of inspiration.
"March, March, I've got good news."
Caelus nudged March 7th, who was sprawled on the sofa beside him.
"What good news?"
March 7th shot him a sideways glance.
Off-duty, she looked like a giant caterpillar.
"Robin—know her?"
"Epsilon's megastar? Of course I do."
"She's coming here for a concert. Inside scoop."
"Really?" March 7th's eyes lit up. "The Robin I'm thinking of?"
"The one and only." Caelus steadied himself as she bounced. "She's staging a charity gig on Talia—'supporting reconstruction,' or something like that."
"Supporting reconstruction? How sweet!" Her focus veered, then snapped back. "Wait—Captain, where'd you get this insider info?"
"My own intelligence network, naturally."
"Which you still won't tell me anything about." She pouted, then sprang from the sofa, eyes sparkling. "So… can I go? Any employee perks? Front-row seats?"
"A network's no fun if it isn't mysterious." He stood. "Day of the concert's a holiday—company outing. I'll talk venues with her agent; we'll need Order staff…"
March 7th puffed her cheeks but couldn't hide her excitement. She grabbed his arm. "When's she coming? Where? Tickets? VIP seats through the back door?"
"I'll check. They'll send an official message first."
One system hour later the announcement hit the nets: interstellar diva Robin would hold a charity concert in the Talia Star System to broadcast hope and strength for ongoing reconstruction.
"Settle down, all of you." Caelus kept a straight face. "Back to work. Concert day is team-building; the company buys the snacks."
"Boss, why only snacks?"
"It's a charity show. And yes—employee badges get your families in."
Watching his employees ignite, he rapped a loudhailer on a rail. "Quiet! Jobs first. Slip up and you'll guard the gate—snacks revoked."
Even the commute home was nothing but concert chatter.
Caelus recalled a certain sports meet… right.
Time to showcase Talia's current muscle.
No pretending to be richer than they were—certain resort planets were out of reach—but they'd polish up enough to keep rivals from laughing.
"All engineering teams, stand by for overtime."
Overtime.
The boss himself ordering it.
Every crew froze.
"Five-times pay, credit points up front. Seven days: clear the trash, lay basic infra. Nine days from now Robin lands. Signal received?"
"HQ's shipping fresh frames from Terra to replace your old rigs—same OS. Strip-outs become spares. Clear?"
Five-times pay was sweet; the naked ambition in Caelus's voice was sweeter.
For the next week the Talia Star System ran like a turbine at redline.
Projects slated for months vanished under new mechs and manic crews.
Clear, build, pave—in that Order.
Caelus emptied the junk vault, churning out ten thousand fresh frames a day. On day seven the pattern-forger coughed, sparked, and died.
Pfft.
After seventy thousand units it collapsed into scrap.
Burial with full Cosmic Junk Company honors.
Caelus mourned a second, then shrugged—every bolt squeezed dry.
The seventy thousand units deployed planet-wide. Familiar interfaces, zero learning curve; retired frames patched and parked as backups.
Dead worlds now blazed with floodlights; giant ants of steel reshaped the crust round the clock.
Seven days of five-times pay and stubborn pride spanned water and power grids across newborn worlds.
Caelus never closed his eyes. Even Dan Heng napped in shifts while he and Prometheus tag-teamed logistics.
When starlight crested the horizon… Day Eight dawned like any other.
A miracle, plain and simple.
Nearby-planet scrap already recycled; distant ones still in the pipe.
Most striking: the infrastructure.
Free housing and food for locals—provided they pitched in.
"All this in seven days?" An Interstellar Peace Corporation engineer mopped sweat.
They'd paid him enough to borrow him.
And here came the kicker.
Seven-day, multi-planet overhaul with this tech? Absurd.
He'd brag about it forever. Fast builds with premium gear? Easy. Pulling it off with junk? A miracle worth a résumé line.
"Captain, I hardly ever see you change clothes."
"Mm."
Caelus's voice today was cold and lofty, his shoulders squared, erasing every trace of his usual casual slouch. Even his tone had dropped a few notes, carrying an air of pressure.
Clearly, he was cosplaying.
Caelus mid-cosplay be like:
"C-Captain?" March 7th circled him twice, eyes round as coins. "Did some weird thing possess you?"
"This is a high-profile moment. Working alongside employees is one matter; diplomatic image is another."
There was no telling how many blockheads might see him in work clothes and decide he was easy to bully.
March 7th blinked, still digesting the sudden iciness. She leaned in and whispered, "But Captain, like this… you look like the kind of arch-villain who's about to destroy the world in the next second…"
Dan Heng stood to the side, unsurprised, merely nodding in approval; it felt only right.
"On necessary occasions, one needs the necessary bearing." He stated it flatly, gaze sweeping over Caelus's uncharacteristic outfit. "At the very least it makes those who judge by appearances think twice before speaking."
"It feels so weird…" March 7th still wasn't used to it. "Like you've swapped souls, though you're still as handsome as ever."
Guinevere arrived, datapad in hand. She screeched to a halt at the sight of him, eyes even wider than March 7th's moments ago.
"B-boss?! Are you… on your way to someone's funeral? No, wait—this aura looks like you're about to host someone's funeral…"
Caelus: "…"
Maintaining his frigid tone, he said, "Report."
"Y-yes sir!" Guinevere jolted into work mode.
Boss looks like he's heading out to sing opera—no no no, can't think that. It's just… cosplay, yeah, that's what they call it elsewhere.
She was certain this was an act; one extra second of eye contact and her head would earn a knock from the boss.
"Pass the word: security stays on highest alert. Today we have not only Robin's fans but countless watching eyes."
Understood. Lancelot hand-picked the steadiest senior employees for an undercover team; they'll blend into the crowd and handle any incident."
Guinevere nodded.
"Good."
March 7th watched Guinevere almost jog away, then glanced at Caelus—who looked one teacup-short of flinging it aside to draw a greatsword and start a blazing fight—and figured he might be over-immersing.
Caelus clasped his hands behind his back; the deliberate chill formed a no-go zone around him.
"Wow… he's really imposing today…" March 7th hid behind Dan Heng, murmuring, "I don't even dare talk to him."
Dan Heng's gaze swept over several seemingly harmless figures in the distance. "He needs that aura right now."
"Let's go meet the superstar."
Hands still behind his back, Caelus stood at the end of the starport. A long trench coat made his already tall frame look even more slender, the hem fluttering in the breeze—every inch the seasoned master. Eyes half-lowered, he stared at some metal plate on the ground as though pondering a conundrum.
March 7th peeked half her head from behind Dan Heng and whispered, "Dan Heng, d'you think the Captain's wondering what to eat for lunch?"
Dan Heng watched Lancelot's squad performing final security checks in the distance. "Probably pondering why birds can fly."
The hatch opened; first came a few brisk assistants, then Robin herself, graceful as ever. Spotting Caelus, her smile flickered.
"…?"
The 'Invincible Tyrannosaurus War-God'… is here too?
No—wait. Robin's eyes widened slightly.
"I've long heard your name, Miss Robin."
Caelus's voice confirmed it: this was the man she'd spoken with on Penacony—memorable, indeed.
"Thank you for bringing the Voice of Hope to Talia." He continued, official yet not distant. "I'm Caelus, the person in charge. Welcome to Terra."
Robin composed herself at once. "Mr. Caelus, you're too kind. I'm honored to set foot on this reborn land. The 'miracle' here is far more stunning than rumor claimed."
"You overrate us; we simply do our utmost together."
"To revive a forgotten star sector in so short a time is hardly covered by 'do our utmost.' All along the way, the people here… are full of hope."
"We look forward to your performance. The venue is ready; your team may rest first or head straight to sound-check."
"I'd like to see the site first, if I may?" she asked, a hint of resolve in her smile. "Feeling the breath of this land up close may give my song greater strength."
"I've sent the map to your terminal. If you don't mind, we can also move up the school visit with the children; your manager and I already discussed it—no scheduling trouble."
"Of course not." Robin beamed, anticipation flashing in her eyes. "I'm looking forward to meeting the children."
While her team went to their quarters for rest and equipment checks, Robin, accompanied by two assistants, walked with Caelus toward the school.
They spoke little along the way; she asked only a couple of questions about the buildings.
When Caelus and Robin appeared at the school gate, the children inside burst into cheers.
"Wow! The boss is here!"
"That's Sister Robin! It's really her!"
"So pretty!"
"No pushing! Line up!"
They surged forward, then stopped of their own accord a few steps away, excited yet orderly.
"Mr. Caelus, would you mind if I gave the children a music lesson?"
"Of course not, but the music room's too small; we'll use the auditorium."
It felt comfortable here.
Robin's mood soared.
No ostentatious welcome, no fabricated pretense—at least to Robin, the people here seemed genuinely happy.
"This is the classroom."
"This is the children's gym and swimming pool."
"This is the art gallery."
"This is the teaching building."
"These are the teaching aids."
"You're the teaching aid!"
Sealed in a special jar, Phantylia was paraded before Robin by Caelus, seething with resentment.
Ever since this branch—her so-called main body's offshoot—had been caught by Caelus, she'd had to endure brats jabbing fingers at the greenish flame while asking their teacher what on earth it was.
She wasn't an "it"; she was Lord Ravager Phantylia's… offshoot.
Well, an offshoot cut off from the main body.
Severed or not, her dignity remained intact.
"This is a cautionary exhibit," Caelus corrected without batting an eye, tapping the jar. "It teaches the kids that trashing the environment and causing chaos never ends well. See? Stuck in a jar."
"You—!" The flame in the jar flared deep green.
"Huh…?"
Robin froze.
Why did that flame reek of destruction?
"A Lord Ravager Phantylia offshoot—now harmlessly processed."
"You use it to… teach children?"
"Mm." Caelus nodded matter-of-factly. "Visual, effective—beats dry sermons. The kids know: bully others, wreck stuff, and you'll end up like her—jarred, gawked at daily."
The flame shot up, then slammed down as if swatted by an invisible hand.
"Plus, she's undergoing reform—daily ethics classes."
Not Daoist thunder-ritual lessons—morality classes.
"D-Dao class?" Robin blinked at the irate green blaze, unable to link it with the word ethics.
"This Lord Ravager belongs to the Heliobus clan. Their nature isn't evil; they're just easily swayed by human emotion. This Heliobus, named Phantylia, was marinated in Nanook's ruin. I want her offshoot brimming with positive energy."
"Huh?"
Wasn't Phantylia still a little-understood Lord Ravager? Yet Caelus had already opened her file?
The overload made Robin's head spin. She glanced at the green flame, then at the unruffled Caelus, and finally let out a helpless laugh.
"Um, what if a kid accidentally smashes the jar…?"
"Could that kid punch a mountain to dust?"
Caelus scratched his head.
The jar was custom-forged; smashing it was impossible.
Robin chuckled. Of course—any vessel holding a Lord Ravager's offshoot as a "teaching aid" wouldn't be common glass. "Come on, music class starts." Ignoring Phantylia's bubbling fury, he gestured Robin forward.
The school auditorium was simple yet spotless. Children sat on little stools, bright eyes fixed on the door. When Robin entered, applause and cheers erupted. "What a wonderful place."
On the playground, Robin gazed at the setting star.
Singing for children felt fuller, more meaningful than singing without purpose.
"Mr. Caelus… are you local to Talia?"
"Nope."
"Then why build here?"
She tilted her head.
"Because I arrived, so I stayed."
I meant something deeper."
"Love and Peace—enough?"
Sometimes words are excess.
"I see." Robin's smile softened, genuine. "You're a very special man."
She offered her hand with natural grace. "Let's start afresh. I'm Robin, a girl who loves to sing."
"Caelus, owner of Cosmic Junk Company."
"Then for tonight's show, may this ordinary girl ask the boss to support her singing?"
"Tonight's curtain will show you—and the crowd—our local special scenery."
"Special scenery?"
"Very special."
"Boss, all sectors clear—no anomalies," Kay's voice crackled through the earpiece.
"Maintain Order."
The hour came; stage lights dimmed, leaving only follow-spots on the empty center. The crowd hushed.
The prelude, however, was Caelus's showcase of Talia's signature artificial aurora.
Once before, guiding pilots' psyches in space, he'd conjured a colossal invisible hand that throttled Phantylia's offshoot.
Overhead, the starry vault churned as if swept by a titanic brush; blazing auroras erupted—not gentle natural ribbons but wild splashes of scarlet, indigo, emerald, gold—colors colliding, flowing, turning the sky into a vast canvas.
The light didn't glare; it cradled souls like a mother's arms.
"It's as if I'm inside it…"
Robin saw every spectator glowing green. She glanced backstage: only Caelus showed no aura.
He was guiding the spectacle.
For one fleeting moment, spirits resonated—strangers understanding one another.
People looked around: workmates, distant visitors, even Interstellar Peace Corporation employees—shared emotion mirrored in every eye.
This was Harmony—no, something more abstract.
Now, every mind merged into a single point.
All thinking the same thought…
…contemplating the shared…