Starting from the Planetary Governor - Chapter 792

Chapter 787: I Don’t Want to Be the Sun Lord

“…What’s the final outcome?”

“What could there be? This is just a meeting with no outcome, so boring.”

“Not boring? If it passes, you’ll be the first to go.”

“If I could see such a huge fireworks display before I die, I’d be happy to die.”

Gallardo was clearly joking.

He had never believed things could get that far.

After the meeting with Qi Bodu and a group of high-ranking imperial officials, he found an opportunity to chat remotely with Gu Hang.

In the past, their calls had been quite secretive. Not only had they had to find a secure, eavesdropping method, but they also had to be cautious about what they said, fearing that someone might eavesdrop on them.

Now, they were becoming less concerned.

It was partly due to their confidence, but also because as Gu Hang’s psychic powers grew stronger, their communications were becoming increasingly secure.

Gallardo then excitedly told Gu Hang about the events that followed.

Especially I learned a little bit about Yerol’s speech.

Until the end, that guy was still loyal and served as Prime Minister Qi Bodu’s mouthpiece. He even performed a roar while slamming his fist on the table, saying something like: “What the Prime Minister wants is a solution, not a suicide plan!”

“It was so funny. The whole conference room was silent at that time.”

“If the Empire throws its last bit of wealth at your Alliance, the hungry wolves in other corners of the galaxy will pounce on you in an instant.” “What

about the war bonds? When they ‘defeat’ the Alliance – if they can really defeat it – they will look back and find that an Orc empire spanning a certain universe has been quietly established, or rebellions have broken out in various places, or the Zerg has devoured an entire universe… There are a bunch of unredeemable bonds left in the treasury, who will buy them?”

“After the meeting, Luo Xi spoke to me earnestly, saying that the Empire is like a coachman holding a rotten rein, and the packhorse pulling the cart has long been fed by the Alliance into a master-devouring beast. Now no matter whether he whips it or lets go, the end result will be the destruction of the cart and the death of people.”

“It’s hilarious.”

Gu Hang asked with great interest: “Did Qi Bo say anything in the end?”

“He said, ‘When a new Sun Lord appears above you, you’ll regret this day.'”

“That’s hilarious! Who hasn’t come from that era? Without Sohkaim, I would

n’t be where I am today.” “By the way, are you going to be a Sun Lord someday?”

Gu Hang chuckled at the question and said, “I’ve never thought about it. I just want to live peacefully in my own little corner, doing business and developing it. It’s always people who give me trouble, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Little corner… you really can say that,” Gallardo complained, then quickly changed the subject. “No, you still have to be one. I’m still waiting for your support. Working with Qi Bodu is really boring. He’s full of ideas, but he’s actually a complete idiot. I really despise that old loser.”

He cursed, but at the crucial point, he unconsciously lowered his voice.

Although he knew no one would hear, it was a physiological reaction.

Gu Hang chuckled and said, “The name Sun Lord isn’t very auspicious.”

He only worked for a little over sixty years.

Gu

Hang lightly traced his fingertips across the holographic star map, and the constellations of the Eastern Universe scattered like startled fireflies. He gazed at the azure points of light marked “Cui Ru Government,” his ears still ringing with Gallardo’s unbridled laughter at the end of the call.

It looked like war wouldn’t break out, which was actually good news for the Alliance.

Just like Gallardo’s extravagant plan, if the Empire had been determined and truly committed to it, the Alliance would have been drowned.

Fortunately, the Empire wasn’t that determined.

Gu Hang took a sip from his bone china teacup. Tea from the Canaan Universe was just so-so, not as good as the Alliance’s own tea.

Two documents flickered on the holographic screen. One was titled “Draft of the Eastern Universe Provisional Tax Agreement.”

This was a document produced by the Cui Ru Government, and Gu Hang was reviewing it.

Although Gu Hang technically had nothing to do with the Eastern Universe, the draft addressed how the Eastern Universe would pay taxes in the future. However, as one of the Empire’s High Lords, it’s only natural for Gu Hang to be concerned about Imperial affairs, isn’t it?

The other document, the “Alliance Plan Supplementary Agreement – Taxation,”

is the Alliance’s own.

Unless things go wrong, both documents will be sent simultaneously to the Imperial Central Government.

This incident didn’t escalate into a crisis of war between the Alliance and the Empire, but relations between the two sides have undoubtedly deteriorated.

What has happened must be resolved, and these issues remain to be discussed. The game between the Empire and the Alliance is far from over, perhaps never will be. Both sides must develop in a long-term dynamic game.

Some of Gu Hang’s words were true; his most important concern was the development of the Alliance.

For the Alliance to grow, it essentially had to rely on its own strength, improving its economic foundation and productivity. However, its relationship with the Imperial Central Government was also a crucial issue, as it determined the external environment for the Alliance’s development.

The Alliance couldn’t be completely unyielding; compromise was necessary.

A tax increase was likely inevitable, provided the Alliance didn’t want to fall out.

However, the tax increase must be in return for what it deserved.

For example, without incorporating the Eastern Universe into the Alliance system, the Alliance’s influence over the Eastern Universe could be further expanded, investment and construction could be intensified, and even some special cooperation could be established within the framework of the treaty.

For example, not only would the Eastern Universe’s future Imperial taxes not be reduced, but the Alliance could even collect them on its behalf.

“It’s time to give our Prime Minister some leeway,” Gu Hang wrote, drawing a new strategic arc on the star map.

Since the Empire wouldn’t overturn the table, the Alliance would transform it into its own throne.

The Eastern Universe’s tax collection rights were just an appetizer; the Empire would also reap the benefits.

Before the unrest, the Eastern Universe’s annual Imperial tax revenue was approximately 1.6 trillion, not far off the Alliance’s 2.1 trillion.

The problem was that the Imperial Center only received 40% of this, or around 640 billion.

Furthermore, during the tax collection process, another 60-70% was lost, leaving the remaining revenue at just over 200 billion.

This was still considered an above-average universe.

The Alliance’s levy on the empire certainly couldn’t guarantee that all 1.6 trillion would reach the Empire—unless the Empire allowed the entire Eastern Universe to be incorporated into the Alliance, which was clearly impossible.

But at least the Alliance can guarantee you the full 640 billion. The Alliance will cover any losses.

This increase is a considerable sum.

For this, shouldn’t the Empire reciprocate? Yin Bashim’s actions should be characterized as regional unrest caused by incompetence, recognizing the legitimacy of Cui Ru’s government? The destruction of Li Guangzhijian should be considered a counterinsurgency operation, right?

While this may seem like a thankless task for the Alliance, the real prize lies in transforming “assisting with tax collection” into “de facto custody.”

When Alliance tax teams are deployed to rebellious areas where even Imperial tax collectors fear to tread;

when the Alliance’s settlement system replaces the rotten Imperial tax system;

when Alliance-employed officials hold a significant share of the Eastern Space Region government, as well as the governments of various star regions and planets;

when Alliance investment projects become the economic lifeline of each planet…

when all these things are achieved, the Eastern Space Region’s veins will grow even further into the Alliance’s economic heart.

Does the Empire know this is a poisonous drug?

With so many smart people, they’d surely see the point.

But the reality is already there. Should we continue the fight, or swallow the poison?

An extra 400 billion per year—pretty sweet.

In the “Alliance Plan Supplementary Agreement,” Gu Hang could generously agree to raise the annual tax to 2.5 trillion, as required by the Imperial Central Government. Over the next ten years, it could be increased by another 50 billion per year, ultimately reaching 3 trillion.

This would even meet the “punitive tax” standard proposed by Xu Fuzhen.

This was also the cost of “purchasing” the Eastern Space Domain.

But this alone wasn’t enough.

Gu Hang issued a request to Holy Terra and Mars. After the Spider Web Space Domain was emptied, only three chapters remained: the Phoenix, the Blood Shark, and the Dragon King’s Spear. The New World Torch and the Fury Flame didn’t count; they were atonement chapters and not stationed in the Spider Web Space Domain. Similarly, the Yellow Spring Gulls didn’t count; they were nominally fleet-based chapters.

Even if they were all included, six chapters wouldn’t be enough for the Alliance’s fourteen star regions.

The Eastern Space Region only had four, not many to begin with, and the Alliance destroyed one.

Establishing a few more Chapters in these two regions made sense.

This required joint approval from both the Imperial Center and Mars. Gene-seeds would also need to be allocated from the Martian gene-seed bank.

Gene-seeds weren’t important to Gu Hang; he could exchange them. However, his exchange was limited by the number of Chapters he controlled. Each Chapter only had two thousand exchange slots.

His Space Marine expansion was being hampered by Chapter quotas.

He really wanted Chapter quotas.

This time, he was asking for five new Chapters, ambitiously aiming for an “Alliance Army.”

However, the Empire likely wouldn’t approve that many.

The exact number would depend on how the negotiations progressed.

Gu Hang’s bottom line was two.

Gene-seeds, or even a home planet, didn’t matter.

Gu Hang didn’t need a few grace points to exchange for seeds, nor did he need a tax-free home planet.

He simply wanted the prestige of a Chapter. If the Empire agreed to the creation of five new Chapters, he could simply expand his force by 10,000 Space Marines!

Given the level of Space Marines Gu Hang had trained, how many Chapters would the Empire need to recruit to fight against those 10,000?

It would be impossible!

Thinking of this, Gu Hang expanded his thoughts: When would Space Marines be free?

He figured he would need complete Imperial authority and control over the Mechanicus, able to approve and establish Chapters on his own and have them recognized. By then, he should be able to exchange them endlessly. He

gritted his teeth, feeling it still seemed a bit far-fetched.

Besides demanding Chapters, Gu Hang also wanted something else: his High Lordship.

While the new representatives would still be appointed by Qi Bodu and obey him, Gu Hang intended to push further, demanding greater rights to be informed and to make suggestions. He demanded that his representatives, when expressing their opinions, defer to his own opinions even more than before.

This meant he was seizing some of the High Lordship’s power.

Even if it was small, it was a rip.

He expected this to also touch Qi Bodu.

But the combined tax revenue increase of 1.3 trillion for the Eastern Realm and the Alliance is now on the table. What Qi Bodu thinks of it depends on his judgment.

After all, the Eastern Realm’s temporary tax bill is only a draft, and the Alliance’s first version of the tax increase plan won’t directly lay out the bottom line of 2.5 trillion, with an annual increase of 50 billion for ten years.

Let’s compete at the negotiating table.

This is because the Alliance was able to secure what it wanted during the war, and therefore has the power to demand it at the negotiating table.

…

The subsequent negotiations dragged on intensely for a long time.

At one point, the situation took a turn, so much so that four or five other realms adjacent to the Eastern Realm and the Spider Web Realm began receiving mobilization orders from Holy Terra. An Imperial fleet had already entered the Eastern Realm’s southern border, and an Inquisitorial fleet, under the guise of a thorough investigation of the Eastern Realm incident, was heading for Wuji Star.

But the Alliance was also ruthless. Emissaries traveled to the Infinite Realm and held a secret meeting with the Infinite Chapter, earning their silence regarding the demise of the Spawn. This wasn’t difficult. Although they all shared the same gene-seed, the Sword of Li Guang was founded under the Empire’s orders, and over the millennia since its founding, communication between the two sides had been minimal. The Infinite Legion had thousands of sub-groups, and they couldn’t manage them all if they had to manage each one.

Furthermore, there were issues with the Lingze starport and the tax system, resulting in the first tax payment delay since the signing of the Alliance Plan.

The Alliance blamed it on a “conspiracy by a small group of rebellious elements within the Empire,” who had hacked into the tax system and released demonic code, causing the problem. The Alliance disclaimed all responsibility and informed the Imperial Center that Imperial taxes would be delayed, with an unknown timeline for repairs.

Furthermore, despite the claim that the starport was operating poorly, trade on Lingze hadn’t stopped at all.

Xu Fu was furious. A single delay meant two hundred billion wouldn’t arrive in time, a significant impact, like a chain reaction in the gears of a transmission system.

But they could manage it, patching things up here and there, and making up for it.

But if the negotiations cannot be concluded for several months and the gap becomes one trillion or even two trillion, then we will be in big trouble.

At the same time, after halting all gray arbitrage trade, the bigwigs who had been making money suddenly suffered losses—ships and personnel were floating around, and that was all money. The original commercial contracts might be breached, and everyone was unhappy about it, openly and covertly monitoring the progress of the negotiations.

Against this backdrop, the negotiations finally concluded.

(End of this chapter)