Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [281]

Establishing diplomatic ties with the Xianzhou Alliance was the top priority. On the surface, the Xianzhou Alliance appeared to be a nation, but in reality, it was nothing more than a nomadic civilization drifting through the vast sea of stars.

For a civilization like this to survive in the cutthroat interstellar arena, its internal cohesion had to be formidable. The bond connecting every Xianzhou citizen lay in their largely unified culture.

Cultural integration was a challenge. Chen Lin might be able to weave an elaborate imperial history from the story of "The Little Man Seeking His Mother," but such a history could never encompass the countless beings of the universe, let alone foster true mutual recognition.

He wasn’t insane enough to go on a killing spree just because someone looked different from him. Chen Lin wasn’t particularly xenophobic—so long as a being had a humanoid form, he could more or less accept it. As long as they weren’t some grotesque bull-headed or horse-faced creature, he considered himself quite open-minded.

A grand military parade was essentially a declaration of imperial expansion. Confronting the L-Gate, Chen Lin preferred for some other civilization to charge in and die first. He wanted the entire universe to know that the enemy beyond the L-Gate was nearly unbeatable before he sent his own forces in.

There were advantages and disadvantages to this approach. The benefit was maximizing external deterrence; the downside was potentially missing the best opportunity to strike. Unless some fool rushed in the moment the L-Gate opened and got themselves killed, the time spent waiting might not be a worthwhile trade-off in the grand scheme of the war.

Both the Ruylu Sector and the Stibea Sector had to return to the Empire’s fold, but this brought him back to his greatest headache—how to assimilate these alien civilizations.

Language had to be standardized. Cultural integration, however, could afford to be more inclusive—cherry-picking beneficial customs while discarding harmful ones wouldn’t be particularly difficult in practice.

One key issue had to be addressed: many toxic cultural traditions were often backed by entrenched interest groups or religious forces pushing their own agendas. Thus, once these long-lost territories were reclaimed, he needed an excuse to carry out a large-scale purge targeting these uncompromising factions.

An excuse, huh… Accusations of collusion with the Lord Ravager sounded like a good option.

The intellectual elite would be the easiest to handle. Chen Lin wasn’t about to play the puppet government game—oppression wasn’t even a consideration. Since the goal was fostering loyalty, equal rights between the two peoples had to be ensured, with no disparity in treatment. Once the intellectuals saw the Empire’s stance, they would naturally lean in his favor.

With the intellectuals leading the way, some of the grassroots populace would begin supporting the Empire on their own. From there, time and a few policy incentives would gradually mold multiple ethnic groups into a singular national identity, eliminating any possibility of future secession.

The only real problem was religion. Pela’s intelligence reports had already confirmed that both the Ruylu and Stibea civilizations had state religions deeply embedded in their political systems. Worse still, these weren’t faiths centered around any real, tangible Aeon but purely ideological, brainwashing-based cults.

Among them were no shortage of devout “holy warriors” with single-track minds. If fed enough rhetoric about some Valhalla-like afterlife, they could very well become a pack of lunatics.

Back when he played Stellaris, he had always hated dealing with conflicting factions within his empire. While such factions could provide some benefits in both the game and real life, they also posed a serious threat to internal stability. In the long run, they were nothing but trouble.

Abstract, unfounded beliefs… Wait a second!

Chen Lin suddenly recalled a particular section of the [Xenological Management] technology. Perhaps he could apply differential treatment!

All he had to do was separate the followers of these bizarre gods from the general populace. Ordinary civilians would receive standard treatment, while religious zealots would be left to fend for themselves. If they truly believed their faith could save them, then they were free to rely on it. The Empire embraced all things, after all—of course, it supported freedom of religion!

A slight adjustment in resource distribution would do the trick. Ordinary citizens would be prohibited from aiding religious groups, and the true nature of these cults would be exposed. Once tensions between the two groups were deliberately exacerbated, the religious factions would gradually lose their income and food supply. Sooner or later, their internal balance would collapse.

By then, when the zealots saw others enjoying hotpot and singing songs, living better and better lives, they would come to their senses.

What kind of bullshit god is this? Can’t even give me a grain of rice or wheat? Might as well put my faith in the Empire instead. The Empire provides jobs, food, and housing—why would I starve worshipping some useless deity?

As long as they weren’t lazy, as long as they worked hard and met their daily quotas, they would never have to worry about their future!

Finally, he would use these internal conflicts to establish a collective mindset—one where unity within the greater national family was seen as inherently superior to individuality. Once everyone internalized this ideology, the assimilation process would be complete.

To summarize: isolate a small group of religious extremists, suppress a handful of diehards, win over the majority of ordinary citizens and sympathizers, and create an overwhelming trend that would sweep up any wavering individuals into the fold.

That settled it! A slow and steady approach—not only stabilizing the Empire domestically but also preventing an external containment strategy. A perfect two-in-one solution!

In less than thirty seconds, Chen Lin had mapped out the path to future assimilation and integration. He was a staunch historical materialist—conquering territory and population wasn’t difficult, but truly assimilating and integrating them was the real challenge.

Only by solving this problem could the foundations of the Empire be solidified, allowing it to withstand the test of time and the trials of war.

History had taught him this lesson well: a foundation could be laid slowly, but it had to be rock-solid. Otherwise, when the Empire was finally built and attempts were made to reinforce its base, one wrong move could end in a repeat of 1991.

While Chen Lin was busy calculating matters of state, Topaz remained unaware of his thoughts. Seeing the ever-changing expressions on his face, she felt an overwhelming dread about the humiliation that might await her in the future…

She set down the hairdryer, walked over, and sat beside him. “Thank you for waiting.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Chen Lin caught sight of the girl’s striking figure. Even he had to admit—her physique was impressively well-maintained.

Topaz hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to sit even closer, allowing his large hands to encircle her slender, fair-skinned neck, gently caressing her cheek. A shiver ran through her body as if she had been electrocuted.

Just as she sat there, frozen in confusion, the man beside her suddenly withdrew his hand and pointed to the single-seater sofa opposite him.

“Sit over there.”

“?” Topaz looked at Chen Lin’s ever-smiling face in confusion, unsure of his intentions.

But she was already beyond the point of choice. No matter what he ordered her to do—even if he told her to strip naked and run through the streets—she had no option but to obey.

Watching her rise to her feet, trying to mask her reluctance with a facade of docility, Chen Lin could only shake his head inwardly.

“If we’re going to discuss business, shouldn’t Miss Jelena change into something more appropriate? Or… do you prefer negotiating dressed like this?”

"Of course," Topaz murmured, pressing her lips together anxiously as she lowered her head. "As long as it pleases you, I can do anything."

Chen Lin chuckled, resting his face against his hand. "Then why don't you take off the bathrobe too? I'll return your words to you—if you can maintain a rational conversation with me in that state, I wouldn't mind at all."

Through his continuous exploration, the [Zroni Nexus] had long since linked to Topaz's mind. Without her even realizing it, Chen Lin could hear the echoes of her thoughts through it. His methods had already far surpassed the realm of mere telepathy—so much so that even professional, highly skilled telepaths wouldn’t detect his surveillance.

Which meant that everything Topaz saw and heard today, Chen Lin could replay in perfect clarity through the [Zroni Nexus]. In the eyes of the true ruler of the Empire, there were no secrets within its borders.

Every report she had submitted, every piece of data within it, the methods used to process that data, how the company responded to her, and even the fact that she had signed a lifelong contract—

Chen Lin knew it all.

"Is this really all right, Your Excellency Chen Lin…?"

Her once-proud and composed demeanor had completely crumbled. Every word she spoke now carried an unmistakable sense of caution.

The high-and-mighty corporate executive? The youngest department director in the company's history? The woman who had just set a new record, becoming the youngest division head?

Yet now, this once-brilliant managerial talent was reduced to groveling servility, clinging to the last vestiges of her dignity in a brief moment of silence.

A successful negotiation often hinged on feeding the other party’s ego and sense of satisfaction—but clearly, that principle didn’t apply here. The company’s so-called “compromise” had only poured gasoline onto the fire, making Chen Lin even more certain that his judgment had been correct.

Because when faced with the question of whether to maintain its dignity or ensure peace, the company had unhesitatingly chosen to abandon its dignity.

Pathetic. I really overestimated you.

But while the company’s executives had cast aside their pride, that didn’t mean Topaz had done the same. Even now, Chen Lin could sense the lingering bitterness in her emotions.

Good.

People like Topaz—proud, capable, and fiercely determined—were the kind who, once they set their mind to something, would see it through to the very end. They pursued excellence, demanded perfection. Her personality was exactly what Chen Lin needed.

He knew her past. She was just a small-town prodigy who had fought her way up from humble beginnings, driven by a deep-seated desire to save her struggling hometown. She had joined the company with that conviction in mind, never once straying from her principles, always placing humanitarian values above all else. A rare managerial talent—disciplined, sharp-minded, and resolute.

From a broader perspective, Topaz’s selflessness and unwavering faith were qualities worthy of admiration. If circumstances were different—if she weren’t a corporate executive and he weren’t the ruler of an empire—they might have even become good friends.

But reality was different. Their positions dictated their mindsets.

One was a corporate director seeking lucrative deals for her company’s shareholders.
The other was a sovereign leader, bound to protect the interests of his people.

And so, Chen Lin had no choice but to play the role of the villain, to use ruthless and overwhelming force to utterly shatter Topaz’s hope in the company. To break her dignity and sense of self—only then could he rebuild her into something useful.

Besides, compared to the schemes of Phantylia—who would feign weakness, manipulate from the shadows, burn bridges, reanimate corpses, sow discord, and turn allies against each other—Chen Lin was already showing Topaz far more kindness than she could have hoped for.

Under Phantylia’s plan, she would have only had a few more days to live. The moment she was no longer useful, she would be reduced to nothing more than a lifeless puppet, a mere tool for manipulating the company.

But with Chen Lin, at least she still had her life. She wouldn’t be turned into some soulless marionette.

And most importantly—if word of Phantylia’s scheme got out, it would ruin his reputation!

I am the great and benevolent ruler of the universe! How could I resort to such despicable methods?

A trace of mock regret flickered deep in Chen Lin’s eyes, but outwardly, he remained as relaxed as ever.

"Three seconds. State your company’s offer."

He wasn’t going to give Topaz any time to think rationally—he wanted her to answer instinctively, to speak her honest thoughts. This was the first step in conditioning.

Topaz clearly hadn’t expected such a demand. She barely had time to process before responding.

"Whatever the company has, you can have. However much you want, the company will provide."

"I’d like to lease a few of your company’s planets—properly, with payment. Is that possible?"

"Yes!"

"Heh. You’re a part of the company too. Does that mean you’re included in what it can offer me?"

Topaz hesitated for a moment before nodding again. "Yes."

"Good."

Chen Lin leaned back, speaking leisurely. "From now on, I’ll wait exactly three seconds for each of your answers. If you take longer than that, I’ll leave. Understood?"

"Understood…!" Topaz gritted her teeth and answered immediately.

With the Empire’s strength, if war broke out against the company, it wouldn’t be some small skirmish like before. The casualties would be on an entirely different scale—countless innocent lives could be lost on the battlefield.

At this moment, Topaz was holding the fate of half the galaxy’s population in her hands. If she made a mistake, she would become a criminal. Her hometown, along with countless other innocent civilizations, would be dragged into the flames of war.

Her mind was racing like never before. She frantically ran through every possible scenario, every potential question Chen Lin might ask, figuring out how to respond in the shortest time possible. And if he asked something she didn’t know… how should she handle it?

Suddenly, Chen Lin let out a chuckle.

"Miss Jelena, do you know what a dog is?"

"Yes."

"I have a friend who owns an adorable dog. Its barks are so cute. But you see, there aren’t any dogs on Jarilo-VI, and I can’t buy one. My love for them is burning inside me, completely unquenched."

Boom.

Topaz’s mind felt like it had been struck by lightning.

A planetary governor claiming he “can’t buy a dog”? Who are you trying to fool?

And what’s with this ‘burning love for dogs’ nonsense? Are you mocking me?

"One."

"…"

Topaz’s pale lips trembled, her eyes growing misty.

Chen Lin raised two fingers.

"Two." 

He leaned slightly forward, resting one hand on the sofa, ready to stand up at any moment.

"Woof… woof, woof!"

Topaz forced her voice into a soft bark, mustering an awkward smile. "To be honest, Your Excellency, I really like small pets too. I have plenty of experience mimicking their sounds. If you’d like to hear other animals, I can imitate them as well!"

Seeing Chen Lin lower his hand and lean back again, Topaz felt a wave of relief wash over her.

If my humiliation can prevent a war and secure a better deal for the company… then it’s worth it.

Chen Lin smiled wordlessly, watching the girl before him—wrapped in nothing but a bathrobe. His voice was gentle, almost devilishly so.

"But dogs crawl around on the floor, don’t they? Your impression wasn’t very convincing."

Degradation of dignity, an attack on self-worth—this was the best way to break a person’s mental defenses.

And it was only the second step.

---

T/N: AHHHHHHHI MS SO UNCOMFOETALE

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!