Deville's mind was still in a haze. He fully understood the current state of food reserves in the Court District. If the logistics division were to implement the Governor's new laws as instructed, in less than a month, the food supply would be exhausted.
At that point, the logistics division would be powerless, unable to sustain operations, and chaos and starvation would break out across the regions.
Taking a deep breath, Deville cleared his mind of these chaotic thoughts. The great and merciful Governor was always right—there was no room for doubt. His duty was to follow orders without question and ensure his family was not disgraced.
Having resolved this, he shouted at his logistics subordinates:
"Why are you all standing there? Didn't you hear the Governor's orders? All logistics personnel, start aiding in the rescue efforts! We can't let any more soldiers die due to lack of care!"
"Yes, sir!"
The logistics division personnel snapped out of their daze, quickly organizing themselves to join the rescue teams. Arye stormed over, grabbing Deville by the collar, his fury palpable. "What about that soldier? Where did you take him?"
"Damn it!"
Deville suddenly remembered. A critically injured but unconscious soldier had been mistaken for dead and tossed into the corpse transport truck. The Governor had now issued new orders, and if this soldier died due to the logistics division's negligence, it would be a severe dereliction of duty.
Pushing Arye aside, Deville sprinted to the transport truck. Climbing aboard, he waded through the filthy blood and gore, finally locating the soldier. But the man had stopped breathing.
"You can't die!" Deville's heart raced as he called for medics. "Get over here and save him!"
Deville frantically began administering chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. After completing a cycle of life-saving measures, the soldier's breathing returned, albeit faintly. The situation was dire—he could die at any moment.
Deville looked up at the medics, shouting desperately:
"He's still alive! I need a med shot—there's no time! Where is it?"
Just as the soldier was about to slip away for good, Arye rushed over with a med shot in hand.
"Catch!"
Panting heavily, Arye hurled the shot towards Deville, who caught it mid-air.
Shhhh—
The med shot was injected into the soldier's neck, and its effects kicked in instantly. The soldier's chest rose sharply, and he gasped for air, coughing violently.
He was alive!
Deville was overjoyed and turned to share his relief with the soldiers, but upon seeing their cold stares, he quietly moved aside, letting them take their comrade away.
Without a word of complaint, Deville returned to his duties, determined to fulfill the Governor's orders.
Across the entire pipeline defense zone, everyone was following the Governor's commands, working diligently to rescue as many as possible.
Meanwhile, far away in his office at the Spire, Eden was feeling deeply troubled. Two hours ago, he had visited the Ministry of Defense to inquire about the state of the defense forces, only to stumble upon a distress call from the pipeline defense zone. Yet, the Ministry hadn't dispatched any reinforcements.
According to their calculations, sacrificing half of the defense forces in the zone would be sufficient to wipe out the mutant horde. As such, they saw no need to deploy the Court District's precious elite forces.
Eden was left speechless.
If the soldiers died, how was he supposed to gather hope energy? Besides, these were real people—warriors fighting for the Court District!
Without hesitation, Eden had immediately sent the elite guard to support them, hoping to minimize casualties. He also ordered the logistics division to organize a rescue operation.
That's when he learned the logistics division wasn't sending aid—they were sending corpse collectors! The logistics division's rescue teams had been disbanded long ago, and their main task now was to "produce" and collect protein sources.
Upon realizing the state of affairs in both the logistics division and the defense forces, Eden could only curse: "Damn it all!"
But his anger had no outlet. Without the logistics division's ruthless efficiency, the Court District and the entire territory would have collapsed long ago.
Fortunately, Eden had arrived in time, and there was still hope. He possessed the power of the Little Sun, and that was his key to changing everything.
Eden immediately repealed parts of the protein collection protocols and ordered the logistics division to hastily organize a new rescue squad. He also sent strike ships to the defense zone to prevent further conflicts and deliver the news.
Now that the strike ships had returned, Eden could feel the slow but steady rise of hope energy. The rescue mission had gone well, successfully appeasing the defense forces. This operation alone had netted him nearly 20,000 hope energy points!
The rescue had been a success, but it had come at the cost of depleting most of the precious medical supplies from the Spire's vault. Still, Eden couldn't afford to worry about that now. He needed hope energy for the upcoming "Emperor's Ascension Festival." It was vital that he eliminated any threats that could disrupt the ceremony.
For now, Eden could only pray that there wouldn't be another mutant horde or crisis in the coming days. He no longer had the resources for another rescue mission.
With a heavy heart, Eden returned to the mountain of paperwork on his desk, pushing through the endless administrative tasks. He also checked on the progress of the statue's restoration, urging the workers to finish everything before the festival.
As he faced the ever-growing pile of documents, Eden felt utterly exhausted.
"Administrative work really is soul-crushing. No wonder the previous me left it all to Baiev."
He was only managing one district on one planet—a population of several million—and it was already this overwhelming. How much worse must it be for the high lords governing hundreds of worlds?
No matter how advanced their body enhancements were or how long they lived, they still couldn't escape the crushing burden of bureaucracy. Many had literally worked themselves to death.
The thought sent a chill down Eden's spine. He could already see a bleak future ahead.
Once things stabilized, all this paperwork was going straight back to Baiev.
He decided then and there to treat Baiev better from now on and to provide him with the best protection possible. People who could handle this kind of workload were truly invaluable!
After struggling through several more files, Eden finally reached his limit. His head felt like it was filled with lead, and his vision swam with stars.
"This is too much! Even in another world, I still have to work overtime?"
With tears in his eyes, he downed a supplement shot. His foggy mind cleared, and he forced himself to continue.
There was still important military business to address.
One file caught his attention—it reported that the defense forces' commander and chief of staff had both perished in the recent mutant assault. New leaders needed to be appointed immediately.
Eden skimmed through the list of candidates and wasn't impressed by any of them. Traditionally, the top positions in the defense forces were filled by people from the Court District, but Eden had other plans.
That wouldn't align with what he intended to do next.
He decided to promote someone from the lower ranks instead, ideally someone from the lower hive, someone who could empathize with the soldiers.
He ordered the Ministry of Defense to send him the profiles of all non-Court District officers, and after carefully reviewing them, he selected a new commander and chief of staff.
Eden was pleased with his choices.
"These two... they look like protagonists."
(End of Chapter)
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