"That's right! Brother Qin, take us with you! When brothers unite, their strength can cut through metal! Let's serve the Federation together!"
The others also joined in the clamor, as if going to the battlefield was as easy and exciting as going on a vacation or hunting trip to some planet.
Qin Bei Wang put down his wine glass, his smile fading slightly as his gaze swept over these enthusiastic, eager young masters.
He gently pushed away the fruit a woman beside him was offering to his lips, his tone carrying a hint of jest, yet also a trace of unmistakable seriousness.
"Alright, enough fooling around."
"The battlefield isn't the 'Stellar Glory Summit,' and the Imperial Fleet isn't a toy in a holographic sand table."
His tone was calm, but his words caused the atmosphere to slightly tense.
"There's no 360-degree panoramic sunroof for you to enjoy the scenery, only flashing alarms and the pungent smell of ozone inside a sealed bridge."
"There's no molecularly modulated 'Stellar Sea Fantasy,' only wartime nutritional compounds that are so disgusting they'll make you nauseous."
"And no beautiful girls to accompany you."
He paused, his voice growing even deeper:
"There's only enemy fire that could blow you and the entire ship into cosmic dust at any moment, the terror of compartments being instantly vacuumed out after shields are breached, and the taste of watching familiar names disappear forever from the tactical panel."
He looked at the few young men who had shouted the loudest earlier; their smiles froze on their faces.
"Your fathers and uncles placed you on the Capital Star, in safe places, for their own reasons. If I really took you to the battlefield and something happened to you, I, Qin Bei Wang, couldn't bear that responsibility."
His words were blunt, even somewhat impolite, but combined with the scene he had just described, no one could refute them.
The faces of those who had been clamoring to go to the battlefield earlier turned somewhat awkward, a flicker of fear passing through their eyes.
Their so-called "going to the front lines to kill the enemy" was more of a fantasy and boast after drinking; when described so specifically and brutally, that enthusiasm instantly cooled.
Seeing this, Luo Hao quickly stepped in to smooth things over.
"Ah, Brother Qin is right! Fighting is professional work; us amateurs would just cause trouble if we went up there!"
He then changed the subject, pulling over a young man sitting in the corner who wore thin-framed glasses and seemed quiet and somewhat frail.
"But Brother Qin, even if we're no good at charging into battle, we can still provide other support, no problem!"
Luo Hao patted the bespectacled young man's shoulder.
"Tang Jiuxiao! His own sister, Tang Wanci! Director of the Tactical Equipment R&D Department at the Federal Advanced Technology Research Bureau! A person with real authority! If any new models of starships or new weapon systems come out in the future, I'll have Jiuxiao pester his sister to make sure Brother Qin's fleet gets priority for pilot equipment! Being close to the water gives you the advantage of the moon!"
Tang Jiuxiao adjusted his glasses and nodded somewhat shyly at Qin Bei Wang.
"Brother Qin... if there's a need, I... I can try mentioning it to my sister."
Luo Hao then pointed to another young man with light golden-dyed hair and a somewhat unruly demeanor.
"And him, Chu Lixuan! You know his family's 'Bountiful Agriculture,' right? One of the Federation's largest organic food suppliers!"
"Qin, your fleet is still eating that synthetic paste even dogs wouldn't sniff, right?"
"From now on, if you want real grains, vegetables, or fruits, just tell Lixuan!"
"At cost price!"
"No, we're brothers—what's money between us?"
Chu Lixuan swirled his wine glass, grinning with a hint of roguish sincerity.
"That's right, Qin. In recent years, climate control has improved, and with new gene yield-enhancement technology, harvests have been overflowing."
"To maintain market prices, a lot of organic crops have to be stored in cryogenic storage. The preservation costs are indeed high."
"How much do you need?"
"I'll have a shipment sent to you every month to start with—consider it clearing inventory. Absolutely the freshest batch."
Qin Beiwang listened, his smile unchanged, understanding dawning in his heart.
This was the Federation. This was the hierarchy.
For low-ranking soldiers and junior officers, daily sustenance consisted only of monotonous-tasting synthetic food that provided basic nutrition—those grayish pastes were the cost-effective choice to sustain the massive military.
At his level, thanks to his background and current status, organic food rations were naturally ample.
But for someone like Chu Lixuan to casually promise a "shipment" of the freshest, top-tier organic agricultural products every month—that was privilege among privileges.
This wasn't just about satisfying hunger; it was a symbol of status and control over resources.
"Thanks in advance, then."
Qin Beiwang didn't hypocritically refuse. He raised his glass to Chu Lixuan and Tang Jiuxiao.
"Organic food is indeed needed throughout the fleet."
"New technological equipment is even more sought after. I'll remember this favor."
His attitude was natural—neither overly enthusiastic nor feigning aloofness.
He appropriately accepted these "brothers'" goodwill while maintaining the rules of interaction within their circle.
The atmosphere in the booth grew lively again, though with less empty fervor about war and more practical exchanges of interests and unspoken understandings.
Accompanied by two beauties, Qin Beiwang sipped his drink, smiled lightly, and handled various toasts and topics, perfectly playing the part of a young general returning victorious and enjoying adulation.
Three days later, early morning.
On the soft, spacious hover bed, Qin Beiwang slowly opened his eyes, feeling a familiar ache in his waist and back.
He pushed himself up, rubbed his temples, and muttered under his breath.
"This is more exhausting than fighting the Imperial Fleet hard at Savannah…"
Over the past three days, he hadn't been entirely idle.
Aside from necessary rest and socializing with the "Capital Twelve Young Masters"—those young nobles—he had inevitably been dragged by Luo Hao to experience various "high-end entertainments," including but not limited to all-night full-sensory parties, energy-draining simulated competitions, and last night's overly "attentive" companionship from those two beauties.
After a simple wash, Qin Beiwang went to the dressing room.
A brand-new, crisp, wrinkle-free deep blue Federal Star Navy Senior Colonel service uniform had already been ironed by the smart home system and was suspended on the display rack.
The golden sash and exquisite star insignia gleamed with understated, noble brilliance under the soft lighting.
The figure in the mirror stood tall and straight like a pine tree, the deep blue military uniform perfectly fitting his well-proportioned, power-imbued physique.
Once fully dressed, he stood before the large floor-length mirror.
His youthful face gained sharper edges under the shadow of the military cap, his eyes deep and calm, his lips pressed into a line of unwavering resolve.
Qin Beiwang gazed at his reflection, feeling slightly dazed.
Just a few months ago, he was a newly graduated "lucky" Lieutenant Commander, uncertain about his future.
Now, he stood here, dressed in the uniform of a Senior Colonel, about to receive the highest honors at the heart of the Federation's power, and soon to command a genuine mother-class fleet.
The time had been short, yet his experiences had been earth-shattering.
He was surprised to find that he seemed... to have truly integrated into this world.
"Qin Bei Wang..."
He whispered the name, both a farewell to the original owner and a confirmation of the "self" that now merged dual experiences and memories.
He straightened his military cap one last time.
Then, he turned.
With calm eyes and steady steps, he walked toward the door.
Outside, the exclusive "Cloud Shuttle" was ready, waiting to take him to Victory Plaza in front of the Federal Parliament Building.
The highest military ceremony was about to begin.
And he was ready.
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