Chapter 1440
Balance
The Kirieloids breathed a sigh of relief at the death of Enemyna.
It's not easy...
Alright, as long as that monster Storm One stops chasing us, that's fine.
The Kirieloids knew very well that the reason Cui Ming wasn't pushing them too hard was because he knew there were too many Kirieloids on their side, and killing them all would be too time-consuming.
That's right, it's a waste of time, not that we couldn't slaughter them all.
The Kirielods also know this.
Therefore, we should maintain a balance for now.
The Kirieloids continued to secretly develop their cult, while Cui Ming launched occasional targeted attacks.
Both sides understood each other implicitly, like two old enemies who had been at odds for decades. Neither could do anything to the other, but neither could live without the other.
The Kirieloids need Triumph alive because his existence is the best propaganda material for their "human persecution of aliens" narrative. Every time Triumph takes down a stronghold, the Kirieloids can play the victim on the space black market, gain sympathy, and acquire some resources.
Cui Ming also needed the Kirieloids to live, because although these charlatans were annoying, at least they were in the open. If they were all killed, who knew what kind of even more sinister forces might emerge? Keeping them around to give them a periodic warning served to train the troops, establish authority, and also clear out the stockpiled ammunition.
Win-win.
Of course, the ways to win are different.
The Kirielods won by "surviving another day," while Cui Ming won by "getting another round of live targets."
-
In a secluded underground stronghold, the Kirielod chieftain sat on a dilapidated altar, his face beneath his black robes looking even more haggard than before. In his hands he held a cup of murky liquid, supposedly a "gift of the sacred flame," but in reality, it was just industrial alcohol diluted with water.
“Ainenmeena is dead.” He took a sip, his expression complicated. “Torn apart by Storm One and that Dark Faust.”
The people of Kirielold below remained silent.
"Good riddance!" the leader suddenly said, smashing his cup on the ground. "That idiot deserved it! Who told her to mess with Storm One?!"
"Leader..." a subordinate said weakly, "we beat her up and threw her there..."
"Shut up!" The leader glared at him. "She got what she deserved! We...we were just going with the flow!"
"..."
"In short," the leader cleared his throat, trying to regain his authority, "Storm One shouldn't be causing us any more trouble for the time being. He just killed Enemy and took down the Nackle aliens, so he needs to rest for a while."
"Should we take advantage of this opportunity...?"
"Take advantage of what? Take advantage of the opportunity to recruit followers? Take advantage of the opportunity to cause trouble?"
The leader sneered, a smile more painful than a grimace: "Do you believe that the moment we start something, that fiend will kick the door open and come in?"
The subordinate shrank back, not daring to speak.
"Maintain the status quo." The leader sat back down on the altar, his black robes hanging loosely like a tattered rag. "Develop covertly, keep a low profile, and periodically send Storm One a few small outposts to appease him. This is our way of survival."
"……Yes."
The people of Kirielold dispersed, each going about their own "sacred business"—which was actually just a three-piece set of pyramid schemes, brainwashing, and swindling.
The leader sat alone on the altar, looking at the relief of the god Kirielod on the dome with a sorrowful expression.
"God...when will you show yourself and take that wicked beast away..."
The relief sculpture remains silent.
The leader sighed, pulled a communicator from his robe, and dialed an encrypted channel.
"Hello, is this the cosmic black market? I have a batch of fresh, newly-released video footage of 'Storm One persecuting aliens,' do you want it?"
"...How much do you want?"
"The price for the three frigates is non-negotiable."
"make a deal."
The leader hung up the communication and finally a smile appeared on his face.
This is how the Kyrierods survive.
If you can't win, play the victim. Playing the victim can get you resources.
By exchanging resources, we can continue to survive.
If we survive, we can wait for the day when God appears.
Although God has never revealed His power.
But people need something to look forward to while they're alive, right?
Inside the TPC base, Choi Myung was eating instant noodles.
Kena walked over and placed a report in front of him.
"The recent movements of the Kirielod people."
Cui Ming glanced at it, a slight smile playing on his lips: "Selling my images on the black market again?"
“Yes,” Kaina nodded. “The price of the three frigates sold this time was double that of the last time.”
"Prices have gone up?" Cui Ming laughed. "Looks like my value has increased again."
Should we shut it down?
"No need." Cui Ming tossed the report onto the table and continued eating his instant noodles. "Let them sell it. The higher the price, the less likely they are to actually cause trouble. If we kill them all, who will give me the money?"
"..."
“Regular reprimands, regular rent collection, that’s the rule.” Cui Ming slurped up a mouthful of noodles, his eyes calm. “Send a small team to take down two strongholds of the Kirieloids. Don’t kill them all, leave a few alive to go back and report.”
"Yes."
“Remember,” Cui Ming put down his fork and looked out the window, “when you leave them alive, make sure they see my face clearly.”
"why?"
“That way they can play the victim when they go back.” Cui Ming’s lips curled up again. “Playing the victim will raise prices, raising prices will allow them to exchange for resources, and exchanging resources will allow them to continue to survive. If they survive, then I’ll have a place to collect rent next time.”
Kaina paused for two seconds, then laughed: "Captain, are you raising pigs?"
"Raising pigs?" Cui Ming picked up the fork again. "No, I'm raising leeks. Cut one crop, and another grows; cut one crop, and another grows."
"..."
"The Kirieloids are the best leeks in the universe." Cui Ming slurped his noodles, his tone flat. "They're endless, impossible to eradicate, and they even have a built-in publicity effect. Every time I'm harvested, my value on the cosmic black market increases a little."
"So how long do you plan to keep cutting?"
“They will be cut off on the day their God appears.”
"What if God doesn't show His power?"
“Then keep cutting.” Cui Ming finished his instant noodle soup and put the cup on the table. “Anyway, I’m not in a hurry.”
Kaina watched his retreating figure, shook her head, and turned to arrange the "rent collection" task.
Outside the window, the setting sun was shining brightly, and the new recruits were lining up on the training ground.
Meanwhile, in a dark corner, the leader of the Kirieloids was counting the resources he had just acquired, a smile of relief on his face.
Both parties were very satisfied.
This is balance.
The balance between Storm One and the Kirieloids.
A distorted, yet unusually stable balance built on blood, fear, and mutual exploitation.
Nobody wants to break it.
At least, not right now.
After all, Choi Ming is very busy! Extremely busy!
The Kirieloids, on the other hand, hoped to live a little longer. (End of Chapter)