Master of the System

“You already sold it? What do you mean you already sold it?” Joanne pointed at Azalea. “And you, why didn’t you answer any of my texts or calls after that?”

Grandpa Vremya didn’t bother responding to Joanne’s questions, keeping his attention focused on his personal computer instead. As expected, his battlesuit golem generated quite a few bits of news, and he was looking through his messages. Most of them were about purchasing his golem, but a few wanted him to enter a long-term cooperation with their companies. Their compensation was nice, but money wasn’t the only thing Grandpa Vremya was looking for. He had enough spirit stones from the Moon Lotus World. With his current stockpile, it wouldn’t be an issue for him to reach the soul-seed stage. Once he reached the soul-seed stage, even better money-making opportunities would open up; after all, if a nascent-soul cultivator could make the same amount as a soul-seed cultivator, didn’t that mean soul-seed cultivators were worthless? What Grandpa Vremya was looking for was a certain opportunity, one where he could unleash an overbearing, dominating nature to influence his nascent soul.

“I had to deal with the landlord,” Azalea said. “If it was back on the Moon Lotus World, it would’ve taken a few seconds to make a deal, but here, they actually ask for your income and perform background checks. Can you believe that?”

“Isn’t that industry standard?” Joanne asked, her brow furrowing. “How do you guys do it in your world?”

“I flex my cultivation base, and they grovel and beg me to use their services,” Azalea said. “The intergalactic society is so confusing at times. It’s quite obvious the strong devour the weak, but it seems like you people willfully reject such an obvious law. How is it that mortals have the same rights as cultivators? Have you ever seen a dragon treat an earthworm as its equal?”

“There are plenty of people who think the way you do,” Joanne said, “but they all belong to the empire. They believe the strong can do whatever they want, but they forget the fact that they were once weak too. They were mortals before becoming cultivators. How can cultivators exist without mortals? In the end, we’re all people, and everyone deserves to be treated with respect.”

“Yes, yes, respect the people,” Azalea said. “I understand that notion. I’m the princess of an empire myself. However, some people accomplish feats worthy of more respect. Do we treat famed generals the same way we treat brand-new soldiers? No! We give famed generals special privileges: we turn them into dukes, give them plots of land, guarantee the prosperity of their future generations. So, while it’s okay for these landlords to vet the mortals who apply, they shouldn’t waste a nascent-soul cultivator’s time.”

Joanne’s expression darkened. “Things like that are a thing of the past. Everyone in the federation is equal under the law—cultivators and mortals alike.” After a brief pause, Joanne scratched her head. “I suppose the rich are above the law sometimes, and there are some really slimy politicians who deserve to have their heads chopped off, but overall, people are mostly equal. If a cultivator assaults a mortal, the cultivator will be punished. Don’t think the federation is like your world; you shouldn’t expect special privileges here.” Her gaze had shifted to Grandpa Vremya before saying her last sentence. Of course, he ignored her.

Azalea furrowed her brow, seemingly deep in thought. After a bit, she turned her head towards Grandpa Vremya. “Do you think we joined the right power? It seems like our world’s ideology more closely aligns to the empire’s.”

“It’s better that we’re here,” Grandpa Vremya said. “For now, we’re the weaker party compared to all three powers. We’ll grow much better in the federation, where they believe in equality, than we would in the empire.”

“Eh?” Azalea tilted her head. “But if we joined the empire, wouldn’t you face serious oppression? Wouldn’t that be the best chance to demonstrate a domineering attitude? If you started from the bottom and fought your way to the top, your nascent soul would get much more experience than from what you’re doing now.”

“That would incur too much negative karma,” Grandpa Vremya said. “If I chose to join the empire knowing the Moon Lotus Sect would face serious oppression, it’d be the same as me choosing to oppress the sect for the sake of my own growth. It’s not much different from fiendish cultivators absorbing other people’s spiritual energy to advance. Yes, it’s more difficult to cultivate an overbearing nascent soul in such a peaceful place, but choosing to tackle the harder path, is that not showing a domineering attitude? No matter which path I choose, I will reach the peak, so I will choose the path that garners the least negative karma.”

“Wouldn’t choosing the road with the most negative karma to face a strong tribulation be the truly domineering path?” Joanne asked.

Azalea rolled her eyes. “Elder Vremya may be arrogant, and cocky, and treats people like ants, but he’s not an evil person.”

“How can you say he isn’t evil if he treats people like ants?”

“I treat ants quite nicely, mind you,” Grandpa Vremya said. “I’ve never done anything to harm one.”

Joanne sighed. Arguing with these people wouldn’t get anywhere. They were over a hundred years old, and they believed they were the ones in the right. Of course, the same could be said about her, but she liked to believe she was younger than these old monsters; after all, she was a genius who had formed her nascent soul at the age of fifty. Right now, she was only one hundred thirty-two years old. “Forget it. Talking about this won’t change the way the federation works.” She shot a glance at Grandpa Vremya. “And you’re making the right choice to not join the empire.” She cleared her throat. “Can we continue with the main topic? How could you sell your battlesuit golem just like that?”

“What’s wrong with selling it?” Grandpa Vremya asked. “I made it. I sold it. Do you question every carpenter about their table sales?”

Joanne exhaled. Facing a straightforward answer like that, what was she supposed to say? In the end, it didn’t matter if Grandpa Vremya sold the golem or not. The government was already in the process of liberating it from Mr. Metal. “The federation hopes that in the future, you won’t sell your golems unless it’s to the military. If one of them somehow ended up in the empire’s or coalition’s hands, then that would be disastrous for us.”

“Do you have the authority to make deals?” Azalea asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I am a diplomat,” Joanne said. “Do you think the federation would send an ordinary fleet commander to make first contact with a foreign world?”

“That makes sense,” Azalea said and nodded. “Is the military willing to buy all the battlesuit golems we produce?”

“We’ll have to examine one of the golems in detail before we let you know,” Joanne said. “However, I can guarantee we will absolutely buy a minimum of a hundred of them.”

“Just a hundred?” Azalea asked and furrowed her brow.

“What do you mean just a hundred?” Joanne asked. “These are weapons equivalent to soul-seed cultivators. Do you understand what it means to have the strength of one hundred soul-seed cultivators? Their strength is only behind those of BARs!”

Azalea blinked. She turned towards Grandpa Vremya. “Do you think we can conquer the federation?”

“We can cause trouble, but we can’t conquer them,” Grandpa Vremya said. “They have a false immortal. Like how a nascent-soul cultivator can sweep aside hundreds of golden-core cultivators, a false immortal can sweep aside soul-seed cultivators with ease.”

Azalea snorted. “You speak as if you’ve seen that realm of strength.”

Grandpa Vremya merely clicked his mouse in response, opening up a new tab in his web browser. Joanne’s gaze shifted from one old person to the other. “Can you not talk about insurrection in front of the federation’s diplomat?” she asked. “I’m legally obligated to report this back to my boss.”

“Well, tell your boss we can make thousands upon thousands of battlesuit golems,” Azalea said, “and if they want to hurt our profits, we’re not afraid to talk with our fists. In fact, the Moon Lotus Sect’s go-to diplomatic response is to beat the other side until they learn their place before doing any talking at all. We’re actually making an exception for you by communicating with words first!”

Communicating with words first? Joanne didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Hadn’t her fleet been smashed into the ground and herself nearly frozen to death upon first contact with the Moon Lotus Sect? This was obviously communicating with words second! Of course, Joanne wasn’t going to make a comment about it. “I’ll let my boss know,” she said. “In the future, someone else will probably reach out to you to conduct the deal. Please don’t scare them off.” If these two old folks scared off the dealmaker, wouldn’t she, the diplomat, be forced to interact with them again? Speaking to them was like trying to convince a carrot-hating child to eat carrots. It was beyond frustrating.