The black torpedo tubes beneath the fifty platinum cruisers hummed with violent, gravitational hunger.
Cold purple sparks danced across the missile bays. Fifty Sun-Swallowing Black-Hole Torpedoes slid forward on magnetic rails, their guidance computers locking directly onto the schools, nurseries, and hospitals of the Taichu Astral Hub below. Each torpedo carried a stabilized micro-singularity designed to swallow tectonic plates and collapse planetary crusts into dense dwarf matter.
Audit-Lord Vaelen stood on his flight deck, wiping golden blood from his chin. His eyes burned with manic malice. “Fire all tubes! Let these outer-spiral peasants learn what happens when they mock Galactic Wall Street! When their cities vanish into black holes, we will harvest whatever lifespan remains in the ashes!”
On the observation deck of the Sovereign Aurora, Chu Lingxiao did not look at the cruisers. Her hand rested on the pommel of her sword. Her face was calm, pale, and still as winter ice.
“Chairman,” Chu Lingxiao repeated softly. “Touching the kids’ schools? That is definitely overtime.”
“Overtime approved,” Lin Mo said, his voice flat and steady. “And you get triple holiday penalty rates.”
Lin Mo pulled his black [Benevolence Charity Card] from his pocket.
“Two trillion coins to arm our protectors,” Lin Mo thought to himself. “On Earth, military budgets get swallowed by bureaucracy and committee meetings. Here, I swipe a black card and my chief enforcer cuts warships in half while earning me a hundred-times refund. Efficiency does not get better than this.”
