Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [342]

Reality was nothing like a game.

In a game, a skirmish could be decided in seconds under overwhelming firepower. When Chen Lin first arrived here, he had assumed the same.

But that naïve assumption had shattered instantly—the moment they fired the first experimental shot from a capital-class weapon.

Shipboard weaponry was massive—and naturally, its energy consumption was just as extreme. The process of converting energy into firepower generated heat—and an overheated weapon, if forced to fire, would not only suffer misfires but also risk irreparable long-term damage.

The first wave of cruisers entering the L-Gate had been equipped with an arsenal of gamma lasers and a handful of particle lances. Depending on the energy charge, these weapons required vastly different cooldown times—some taking only a few hours, while others needed up to two days before they could fire again.

Thankfully, in the game, long-range, high-damage weapons weren’t meant to fire often during a single skirmish. Chen Lin had anticipated this issue and had outfitted the fleet with a large number of disintegrator cannons and missile torpedoes—filling in the firepower gap whenever the high-damage weapons were cooling down.

And yet…

The first battle inside the L-Gate had dragged on for four entire days!

Perhaps, at some point, the L-Drakes realized that the fleet’s sheer numbers and absurdly durable shields made it an unwinnable fight. Eventually, after sustaining heavy casualties, the surviving dragons abandoned the battlefield, using spatial warps to flee beyond the fleet’s sensor range…

Chen Lin never had to personally micromanage the battle. His role was simply to read the war reports flooding in from the frontlines—reports detailing the enemy kill count, fleet casualties, and damage assessments, as well as any ships that needed to withdraw for repairs.

I’ll admit, L-Drakes are pretty terrifying after mutating…

But what happens when I increase my fleet capacity tenfold? What then?

As a result, every war report coming in from the frontlines could be summarized in two words:

Crushing victory.

And not just any victory—a goddamn landslide.

The final tally:

• Losses: 9 frigates, 6 destroyers sunk.

• Damage: 26 ships lightly damaged, 19 ships heavily damaged.

• Enemy casualties: 39 L-Drakes killed, the rest retreated from the battlefield.

---

After nearly dying of frustration thanks to Sushang’s absurd intelligence, and after thoroughly beating his disciple half to death, Chen Lin had gone to take a bath.

Midway through his soak, a notification arrived—informing him that the entire star system at the L-Gate’s exit had been completely secured and occupied.

Unsurprised, he simply glanced at the message and leaned back into the bathwater.

For him, this level of victory was expected.

After all…

War never comes without casualties.

And besides, frigates were disposable combat assets—cheap cannon fodder that cost next to nothing to replace. Even a destroyer, with the right production discounts, was only 600 alloys at most.

If that was the price to secure an early foothold and guarantee the safety of the L-Gate’s entry zone…

Then it was worth every last bit of alloy.

More importantly, the ship crews were all pre-generated personnel—meaning Chen Lin didn’t need to recruit or train new soldiers from his homeworld’s population.

Only the commanding officers were actual Jarilo natives.

As for the damaged ships…

Apologies.

Ship repairs don’t cost me a damn thing.

So, in other words—there were no actual losses.

...

Freshly washed and dressed, Chen Lin stepped out of the bathhouse, with Phantylia following behind him.

As he made his way toward the study, he gave her a simple order:

“Broadcast the frontline victory to Xianzhou, then report it to the homeworld’s public channels as well. Keep it simple and low-profile—no need for an extravagant announcement.”

Phantylia nodded eagerly.

She already knew that her master’s intelligence network was faster and more precise than anyone else’s.

There was no need to question it.

Just do as ordered!

The moment Chen Lin stepped inside, Pela—who had been stationed at her desk the entire time—immediately looked up.

She was holding a stack of freshly printed documents, clearly on her way out—likely to deliver a report to him.

But seeing him enter on his own, she brightened up with excitement.

Holding up the latest war report, she read aloud with enthusiasm:

“Sir, a major victory on the frontlines! Miss Seele and Miss Fia have successfully achieved total victory…”

Chen Lin listened to Pela’s report with a smile, then took the stack of documents from her hands and placed them back on the desk. Gently squeezing the young girl’s soft, round cheeks, he urged, “Alright, go get some rest. You haven’t slept in days. Go take a proper nap—I’ll handle the rest.”

“Y-Yes!”

Pela pursed her lips and nodded forcefully, her small, flushed face turning even softer under his touch. She didn’t mind at all when he pinched her cheeks like that.

“Oh, right, sir—Silver Wolf came looking for you earlier. She seemed to have something important to discuss.”

“Something important?”

Chen Lin paused for a moment, then nodded. “Got it.”

Once Pela had packed up her things and left, Chen Lin sent out the next set of strategic directives to the frontlines.

First, engineering ships were to enter the secured star system, salvaging and collecting wreckage from the battle. Science ships were tasked with analyzing and researching the L-Drake corpses.

For Jarilo, now officially in a state of war, this was critical—whether for future commemoration, propaganda efforts, or simply archival documentation of this historic moment.

Then, there were those damn golden exclamation marks littered across the staging systems.

Whether or not they contained new technologies, even if they only yielded research points, Chen Lin was determined to clear them all.

Otherwise, just seeing them there would drive his OCD insane.

Next, severely damaged warships were withdrawn from the fleet, sent back to the home system’s shipyards for repairs.

A crippled warship had drastically reduced combat effectiveness—and in the face of unforeseen dangers, a fleet with damaged vessels would only suffer unnecessary losses.

For Jarilo, already struggling with scarce alloy reserves, such avoidable losses could quickly spiral into catastrophic consequences.

Lastly, undamaged and lightly damaged ships would remain in the secured star system, maintaining territorial control until the outpost construction was completed—only then would the next phase of the operation begin.

From the start, Chen Lin had never intended to recklessly charge straight through the L-Gate.

This war had far greater political value than economic benefits—firepower was merely a tool to serve Qlipoth Fort and the Governor’s Office.

“This finally feels like a proper strategy game…”

Chen Lin muttered as he sat at his desk, piloting the engineering ships toward the staging system’s central region.

Expanding outward—
Securing lines—
Consolidating positions—

That was the most stable way to advance.

Besides, the moment he entered the L-Gate, he had already run into dozens of L-Drakes acting like security guards.

If those were just the gatekeepers, what kind of horrors lurked even deeper inside?

Losing the staging system wouldn’t just mean giving up a key strategic position—it would crush the nation’s reputation. Everything he had built up so far could shatter in an instant.

If that happened, the Jarilo sector would descend into chaos.

That would be a complete disaster.

...

After finishing the task assigned to her, Phantylia poked her head into the study, glancing around.

“My lord, on my way over, I saw that Stellaron Hunter girl lurking nearby…”

Chen Lin set down his phone. “Pela said she was looking for me.”

Phantylia grinned slyly and leaned in.

“Oh? Then why didn’t you go see her after finishing your work? Were you waiting for an excuse to order me around instead~? I wouldn’t mind, you know~”

Chen Lin didn’t respond.

He simply looked up at her.

…Why did it feel like this fox was getting bolder with her flirtation?

What happened to the cruel, violent, and twisted Phantylia he used to know?

After a moment of thought, he spoke.

“I’ve got a job for you. Will you take it?”

Phantylia pouted slightly but nodded.

“As long as my lord doesn’t send me to die, I’ll do anything~”

“Go to the frontline and hold the position for a while. Right now, our forces are stretched thin, and I don’t want any surprises during this vulnerable window.”

“…Eh?”

Phantylia froze.

In her mind, she recalled the colossal monstrosities exchanging devastating laser fire across the battlefield—the sheer destruction that had turned nearby asteroids into debris fields.

Unless she revealed her true form, she had no way of influencing a battle of that scale.

The problem was…

If she did expose her real identity, and word got out that the empire was secretly harboring a Lord Ravager, it would deal a massive blow to Jarilo’s reputation.

And that wasn’t even the biggest issue.

The real problem was—

How the hell would they explain this to Luofu?!

The last thing Phantylia wanted was to become a discarded pawn, thrown away without hesitation.

Right now, she had everything she could ever want—food, comfort, endless resources for growing stronger every day. If she lost all of that, she'd be screwed beyond belief.

There was no way she’d risk throwing all that away over some reckless mission.

In fact, before the L-Gate opened, she had been excited to go in and take a look.

But after watching a small-scale skirmish firsthand…?

Yeah. Nope.

She was done even thinking about stepping inside.

Not for any reason other than pure, unfiltered fear.

What if she ran into something even worse and got trapped? The cost of rescuing her would be astronomical—not to mention the worst-case scenario:

If she got crippled, and her master decided she was no longer useful…

Wouldn’t that mean she was finished?

Phantylia knew exactly what kind of person Chen Lin was.

When it came to weighing pros and cons, her master never hesitated.

If he decided she was expendable, discarding her would be as easy as throwing away a piece of trash.

These thoughts flashed through her mind in an instant, and she shook her head violently like a rattling drum.

“My lord, it’s not that I don’t want to—but isn’t the risk a little too high? Besides, isn’t there someone trying to sneak into Jarilo-VI?"

If something happens to you, how could I possibly have the face to keep living?!”

What did she mean by ‘no face to keep living’?

It was simple.

If Chen Lin got into trouble, Phantylia would absolutely be forced to take the fall.

Most likely, she’d be dragged down with him—maybe even buried alongside him.

Chen Lin ignored her dramatic plea and instead walked over to the desk, pulling out a document and a stack of official credentials, handing them over.

The moment Phantylia saw the military officer’s ID, her eye twitched.

And that document?

It wasn’t just any random paperwork—it was a formal appointment order, personally signed and stamped by Chen Lin himself!

After reading the contents, she turned her head with a pained expression, lowering her voice.

“My lord… I’ve been so loyal to you for so long… You wouldn’t actually send me to die, right?”

She knew disobeying Chen Lin’s orders was not an option.

She could only pray that he wasn’t about to send her on some suicidal scouting mission.

Phantylia had always been deeply concerned about her diminishing value.

In terms of raw power, Jarilo already had temporary artificial Emanators using Zro Dust.

Ever since those were introduced, she had lived in fear that one day, Chen Lin wouldn’t need her anymore.

After all, she might be special, but there was no denying that she had once betrayed him.

Earning absolute trust after something like that? Nearly impossible.

She constantly reminded herself—never grow complacent just because she knew so many of Chen Lin’s secrets.

In fact, the more secrets she knew, the more dangerous her position became…

Which was exactly why she seized every opportunity to prove her loyalty.

If Chen Lin pointed east, she would never look west.

If he ordered her to beat an enemy, she’d level their entire homeworld instead.

Because at the end of the day—

She was terrified of dying.

Which meant she had to constantly prove her worth, making sure she was indispensable—ensuring she’d never be abandoned.

Looking at the official document, she saw that she had been appointed as the commander of a ‘fleet’ consisting of twenty-something frigates and destroyers.

And out of those?

80% were still under construction.

Phantylia’s first thought was—

Am I being thrown away?

Was this a sign that she was no longer valuable?

Was her master sending her on a suicide mission to scout ahead?!

Like a sloth, she clung to Chen Lin’s leg, refusing to let go.

But he simply pinched her by the neck and lifted her up like a misbehaving cat.

“I’ve already figured out the situation with the Masked Fools,” he said flatly. “No one can threaten my life while I’m prepared—you don’t need to worry.”

Phantylia burst into tears, wiping her face as she wailed,

“B-But I don’t wanna be away from you~! I just learned a bunch of new desserts from the chef—I was gonna make them just for you…”

“…”

To outsiders, this might look like some heartwarming master-servant bond, full of reluctant farewells.

But Chen Lin knew better.

This dumb fox was just scared of dying.

Her thoughts often echoed through The Shroud, reaching his mind in fragmented waves.

And this time was no different.

He had already glimpsed her ridiculous, palace-drama-level paranoia about self-preservation.

Seriously?

I don’t even operate on a ‘profit-and-loss’ basis when it comes to my own people.

If something was a loss, so be it.

If resources were wasted on his own people, who cares?

Whether it was a sunk cost, a bad investment, or a failed lesson—to Chen Lin, it never mattered.

How had this fox been with him for so long and still not understood this?

Her past ‘betrayal’?

He had never even cared about it.

To be honest, given the situation back then, it wasn’t even real betrayal.

And even if it had been—

At worst, it was just a mistake anyone could have made.

A smart person knew how to adapt to the circumstances.

Phantylia had not only recognized her mistake, but had even helped Chen Lin immensely afterward.

She had already done more than enough.

Seeing how nervous she looked now, Chen Lin sighed in exasperation.

“I’m not sending you to die.”

“Your fleet is just a support unit—you’ll be stationed near the L-Gate."

"If nothing happens on the frontlines, you won’t even have to move.”

Phantylia froze mid-sob.

Then, brightened instantly.

“Really?!”

Chen Lin raised an eyebrow.

“I might have lied to others, but when have I ever lied to you?”

Phantylia smiled sweetly, eyes curving into crescent moons.

“If it’s my lord, then even if you lied, I’d be happy to believe you~”

Her worries vanished—and in their place, a flood of honeyed words poured out.

Chen Lin bent down, picking up a small bell-shaped hairpin that had fallen to the floor during her tantrum.

Gently, he clipped it back onto her hair.

It was a handmade gift from Bronya, personally sewn together stitch by stitch.

The fox-girl froze, standing completely still like a statue, letting him adjust her hair however he pleased.

A moment later, her voice echoed through their psychic link—this time, calm and serious.

“…My lord, you planned for me to leave on purpose, didn’t you?”

Chen Lin’s hands paused for a moment.

He didn’t answer.

Just nodded slightly and continued fixing her hair.

A few seconds later, Phantylia received his confirmation.

"Bait."

---

This is a fan translation of 在星穹铁道点群星科技树真的没问题吗? by 杏雨诗韵 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!