"The crew has been recruited," Zhao Chen said calmly. "They should arrive within a day."
Zhao Wan'er turned sharply. "Crew? What crew?"
"Slave crew," Zhao Chen replied matter-of-factly. "Didn't you say that was the cheapest option?"
"…How much did it cost?"
"Three thousand star coins."
Zhao Wan'er froze. "And if I remember correctly, you had just a little over three thousand left. That was your living allowance."
"Yes."
"..."
Dark lines practically appeared across Zhao Wan'er's forehead.
She stared at her brother as if seeing him for the first time.
"Look," Zhao Chen said helpfully, projecting a holographic list. "These are the ones I bought."
Zhao Wan'er glanced at the display—and stiffened.
Every portrait showed the same thing.
Half-orcs.
And not just that—all female.
"Zhao. Chen."
Her voice dropped dangerously.
...…
The scolding that followed lasted a full ten minutes.
In the end, Zhao Wan'er stormed out, anger and helplessness written plainly across her face.
In her view, her brother had crossed from recklessness into outright madness.
She could only begin preparing herself to clean up whatever disaster followed.
After Zhao Wan'er left, Zhao Chen finally allowed himself to slow down.
He showered, changed into clean clothes, and slept deeply for the first time in weeks.
When he woke again, the workshop notification chimed.
The slaves had arrived.
"Mr. Zhao Chen?"
A man wearing a professional smile stood at the workshop entrance. "We're here to deliver the one hundred slaves you ordered. Please present your ID card."
Behind him were ten large mechanical transport carts, each draped in black cloth—three meters tall, several meters long.
No guards.
No extra personnel.
Zhao Chen verified his identity, then frowned. "Where are the people?"
"Inside."
The man lifted the cloth from one cart.
Iron cages were revealed.
Each was a cramped cubic cell barely a meter high. Inside sat half-orcs, shackled at the neck and ankles with electronic restraints. Their clothes were torn, their expressions fearful and exhausted.
"These collars can administer electric shocks or self-destruct," the man explained casually. "Unless unlocked with the password, any attempt to tamper with them will trigger detonation."
"I see." Zhao Chen nodded. "Do these cages come with them?"
"Of course," the man replied cheerfully.
Zhao Chen said nothing more. He pushed the transport carts into the workshop himself.
One by one, the black cloths were removed.
The half-orcs were fully exposed.
Some bore thick fur like beasts. Others looked nearly human, save for ears, tails, or horns. Dog-type, pig-type, and sheep-type orcs were the most common.
And among them—
One stood apart.
White hair.
Blue eyes filled with hostility and defiance.
A pair of broken white ears and a damaged tail.
Her body was covered in scars—old, jagged marks left by blades and shrapnel. Without them, even by human standards, she would have been striking.
Zhao Chen's gaze lingered.
He had chosen this entire batch for one reason.
"Hello," Zhao Chen said softly. "General Charlotte."
The white-haired half-orc's pupils contracted.
Not just her name.
But her title.
"Charlotte," Zhao Chen continued evenly, "born in the Black Dragon Star Region of the Warhammer Star Tribe Confederation. Descendant of the White Tiger Clan.
"You resisted the oppression of local lords, formed an interstellar resistance army, and fought for three years.
"Over fifty battles. At your peak, you commanded a three-hundred-ship fleet."
Charlotte's breathing slowed.
"You once defeated a five-hundred-ship lord fleet—and destroyed a T3 starship in the process."
Zhao Chen's voice remained calm.
"Three months ago, betrayed. Ambushed. Fleet annihilated.
"And now…"
He looked around.
"…sold as a slave in the Star Empire."
Silence filled the workshop.
Zhao Chen opened Charlotte's cage and sat cross-legged before her.
"How about it," he asked. "Care to talk?"
Charlotte laughed bitterly. "Talk? I'm a prisoner. What's there to discuss?"
"Your freedom," Zhao Chen replied.
"And the freedom of every half-orc who followed you here."
Charlotte's eyes sharpened. "Explain."
"I have a starship," Zhao Chen said plainly. "But no crew. I want you—and your people—to serve as my crew."
Charlotte sneered. "So you want slaves to fight for you?"
"No." Zhao Chen shook his head. "I want crew members.
"Soldiers who choose to fight."
"Orcs do not fight for others," Charlotte said coldly. "We bow to no one."
"Then think beyond yourself," Zhao Chen countered. "Because of your defeat, nearly thirty thousand orc warriors were sold into the Xingyao Empire.
"I bought one hundred.
"The rest are dying—slowly."
Charlotte's jaw tightened.
"You don't want to save them?" Zhao Chen asked quietly.
Silence.
Zhao Chen stood.
"Fight for me," he said. "When I have the means, I will buy back every orc warrior who once served under you—wherever they are in this empire.
"Serve me for three years."
"After that, you and your people walk free."
He extended his hand.
"Fight for me.
"Or rather—fight for your freedom."
Charlotte stared at his hand.
Her expression twisted with rage, pain, pride, and hesitation.
At last—
She reached out and clasped it.
"I do this," she said hoarsely, "for my people."