"I don't know the specifics, but it was likely the work of the 'Old Timers' in the Traditional Department," Topaz said, shrugging with a look of genuine helplessness.
"In that case, Miss Topaz, would you like to reconsider the terms? For instance, after seeing the quality of the games your own company releases, perhaps our value has gone up?" Julian teased, a playful glint in his eyes.
Topaz laughed, sharp and confident. "Hehe, I know exactly what they're capable of. If they had the talent to stop you, they wouldn't have waited until now to try. I'm not giving you the chance to raise the price, Mr. Julian. A deal is a deal."
"A pity. Well, I wish you a safe journey back to the IPC headquarters. We can sign the formal contracts once your 'internal business' is settled."
Both of them understood the unspoken reality: Julian wouldn't abandon the backing of the Xianzhou Alliance, and Topaz couldn't finalize the investment without the Alliance's diplomatic blessing. They were now partners in a larger political dance.
After seeing Topaz off, Julian returned to his office to check the "Pokémon-clone" the IPC had rushed to market. But before he could even open the browser, a cartoon avatar popped up on his screen, making him jump.
"How's it going? Did you get the scepter?" Stephen Lloyd's voice crackled through the speakers.
"Please, a little warning next time... I almost summoned Mewtwo to blast my own monitor," Julian exhaled. "The scepter is part of the agreement. As long as Topaz smooths things over with the Sky-Faring Commission, we'll have the hardware."
Topaz's Strategic Investment Department prioritized profit above all else. Now that the Traditional Department's suppression plan had failed, they were effectively irrelevant. Topaz wouldn't let their pride stand in the way of a trillion-credit partnership.
"Oh, well done, Little Julian," Stephen said, giving a thumbs-up.
Julian rolled his eyes. "Since when did you start picking up Silver Wolf's nicknames for me?"
He didn't really mind. Being "Little Julian" to two members of the Genius Society was a position of privilege, even if it felt a bit like being the younger brother of the class geniuses.
"By the way, where should I have them ship the unit?" Julian asked. "I can't exactly have an Emperor-class relic delivered to the Luofu's front door."
"Ship the components to the same drop-off point at the Herta Space Station as the last batch," Stephen replied, his expression shifting to a more serious one. "But Julian, there's a catch. You need a massive energy source to run that thing. Without it, the scepter is just a very expensive paperweight."
Julian felt a familiar headache forming. An Emperor's Scepter was essentially a planetary-scale computer. To run it at the capacity needed for a galactic MMO, he needed planetary-level energy.
On the Luofu, energy costs for civilians were cheap, but strategic-level consumption was heavily taxed to prevent private entities from building rogue super-projects. To run the scepter on Xianzhou power would cost hundreds of trillions of credits—effectively a "ban by bureaucracy."
"If I get you the materials, can you build a planetary energy source?" Julian asked. He immediately slapped his own forehead. He was talking to Stephen Lloyd. Of course he could.
Stephen grimaced at Julian's first question but seemed pleased by the self-slap. "It depends on the 'fuel.' A standard antimatter reactor is cheap to build—a few billion credits—but the 'firewood' costs are constant and expensive. A self-sustaining stellar reactor? That'll cost you hundreds of billions to start. And the really high-end stuff... the 'infinite' cores... you're looking at tens of trillions."
Julian groaned. Between the network fees, the scepter modification, and now the power bill, his ten-trillion-credit investment from Topaz was already looking thin.
Wait... I'm forgetting something crucial, Julian thought. He tried to recall the lore of the worlds he had designed. In his memory of the great scientific wonders, what did they use when they didn't have a star to harness?
"Star Cores," he whispered. From Herta Space Station to the furthest reaches of Penacony, the Stellaron was the ultimate energy source. If Julian could find a way to stabilize one, his power problems would vanish forever.
Stephen should be able to control a Stellaron, right? And if he can't, he can just ask Herta... Julian felt a spark of devious inspiration. He had a plan for the hardware; now he just needed the "battery."
But then, a cold realization struck him. He remembered the plot of the Luofu's future. When a Stellaron went out of control on a Xianzhou ship, the entire vessel entered a state of total lockdown.
Arceus Studio's main servers were on the Luofu. If the ship went dark, the game died. He needed a backup plan.
"Stephen! I need one more favor!" Julian shouted, summoning the avatar back.
"What now? Can't you finish a thought before you dismiss me?"
"Brother, I need you to set me up with a backup server cluster at the Herta Space Station," Julian said, shamelessly switching to the "brother" title.
Stephen jumped back, looking genuinely startled by the sudden affection. "Hey! Don't call me that! It's creepy!"
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