Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [359]

[Third Contact: The Intelligent L-Drake]

[Our Governor has successfully established a mutual trust and communication channel with the L-Drake. Governor Chen Lin has discovered that the L-Drake possesses intelligence equivalent to that of a 13-year-old human child. At the very least, it understands our instructions and acts accordingly.]

[The L-Drake is highly curious about our Empire, joyfully dancing around our transport ships.]

[Although many are perplexed by this particular L-Drake—some even suspecting it harbors an unknown secret—the Imperial researchers, after much discussion, have decided to conduct an experiment to uncover the logic behind its behavior.]

[Before long, the experiment report was submitted. Testing indicates that the L-Drake does not require food for sustenance. The reason it consumes the nanobots provided by Governor Chen Lin is not due to biological hunger, but rather because these specialized nanobots provide essential nutrients for its growth—allowing it to transition from juvenile to adult form.]

[Should we continue feeding and taming it? The Imperial Research Institute has engaged in heated debate over this question, but the final decision rests with the Clipper Palace and the Governor’s Office.]

[1. This is interesting, I want to ride it!
(Consumes 5 units of nanobots per month)
(Triggers Special Project ①: Taming the L-Drake;)
(Triggers Special Project ②: Uncovering the Secrets Behind the L-Drake)]

[2. Too dangerous. This thing should serve the Empire in another way!
(Defeating this L-Drake guarantees the researchable rare technology: Nano Dragonscale Armor)]

After over a day of progress, the special project’s progress bar finally hit 100%.

This time, instead of another narrative event log, a new choice-based event popped up.

The moment [Rare Technology] appeared on screen, Chen Lin nearly clicked it out of sheer reflex. Luckily, he stopped himself just in time—keeping his collector’s obsession from overriding his reason.

Wait a second… wasn’t that first special project already part of an earlier branch?

Chen Lin frowned. He had already sunk so many nanobot resources into advancing the event—there was no way he’d accept a Ouroboros-style loop for his reward.

The real key here wasn’t the taming option, which had already been available before, but the second special project.

Nano Dragonscale Armor. Just from the name alone, it sounded like a top-tier upgrade—undoubtedly a form of advanced nanotech.

In his memory, there was already something called "Artificial Dragonscale Armor", which required looting the ruins from an Aether Drake via its exclusive "Dragon’s Hoard" event. It was also one of the strongest armor types in the base game—mainly because it didn’t require rare resources to manufacture.

But Nano Dragonscale Armor? That had to be mod content. And considering the L-Drake was an absolute damage sponge, this armor had to be doing some serious work.

Even so, Chen Lin gritted his teeth and forced himself to move his hand away—opting for the first choice instead.

At the very least, he could comfort himself with the thought that, maybe, if he got lucky, he could still reverse-engineer the tech from another L-Drake’s corpse.

No need to chase after every little scrap of rare tech like a headless chicken.

The entire reason he opened the L-Gate in the first place was to monopolize the rich resources and hidden knowledge within.

High-tier tech could be found elsewhere if necessary. But right now? Gaining intel was the top priority.

After all, he needed to know exactly what kind of eldritch horrors were lurking inside.

Meanwhile, at the table, Li Sushang and Seele were enthusiastically slurping down bowls of noodles.

Noticing Chen Lin’s odd expression, Li Sushang slowed her movements and whispered,

"Shīmǔ, why does Shīfù look like he’s in so much pain?"

Seele barely glanced up before quickly looking away.

"Brother Lin does this all the time. If you ask him, he’ll just say he’s ‘heartbroken,’ and then start rambling about a bunch of weird, complicated stuff. Don’t worry about it."

"Oh…"

Li Sushang nodded, half-understanding.

She really hated it when people tried explaining things in long-winded lectures—especially the kind where they kept switching between ancient texts and modern philosophy.

That kind of mental exhaustion was way worse than a physical beating.

At least if you got hit, the pain was temporary.

But a lecture? That could haunt you for weeks.

Still… now that she thought about it, her Shīfù had never really lectured her the way Master Diviner did.

Maybe… she should try asking?

The moment that thought crossed her mind, Li Sushang immediately slapped herself in the face.

Seele, mid-noodle-slurp, froze in shock.

Trying that nonsense will get me killed! Why am I such a dumbass?!

Seele shot her a concerned look.

She actually liked this straightforward, no-nonsense girl.

"You okay?"

"Haha! I’m fine, I’m fine!" Li Sushang forced out a laugh and blurted, "Just… feeling a little sleepy, so I, uh, woke myself up this way."

Seele chewed for a moment, then smirked.

"You Xianzhou people are really something… tough as nails, but reckless as hell."

She took another bite, rolling the words over in her mind before finally settling on what she thought was a more refined way of putting it.

Ever since she entered the Empire’s military and political circles, even Seele had learned to sugarcoat her words a little—just enough to avoid making things unnecessarily awkward.

Basically, it was about not embarrassing herself while still keeping her dignity intact.

Li Sushang just chuckled sheepishly and scratched her head.

"That’s just how us Yaoqing people are."

...Hopefully, none of her fellow Xianzhou citizens overheard her, or she might be in for a beating when she got back.

After spending so much time stuck in Belobog’s cold, lifeless skyline, stepping into the interior of a warship felt almost refreshing.

The lights and displays aboard the ship had an eerie, yet fascinating beauty—far more intriguing than the dull, frozen cityscape.

While contemplating this, Chen Lin tried to ignore the bleeding wound in his heart, then pulled up the galactic map and manually assigned a science vessel and a planetary invasion force to handle the two special projects.

The remaining projects wouldn’t require his personal involvement anymore.

As he walked over to the table, Li Sushang immediately put down her bowl—noodles still hanging from her mouth—and hurriedly stood up.

"Shīfù!"

Chen Lin sighed, exasperated.

"This isn’t the Xianzhou. You don’t need to be so formal."

"You can order me to fast or go without sleep, but this—this is non-negotiable!"

Li Sushang shook her head frantically, as if breaking this ceremonial formality would be the equivalent of a death sentence. No matter how many times Chen Lin told her otherwise, she still insisted on treating her Shīfù with the utmost respect.

It was clear that Xianzhou’s reverence for teachers and traditions was far stricter than what Chen Lin had imagined.

After forcing Li Sushang to sit back down and continue eating, Chen Lin walked over to Seele and said,

“For now, we’ll wait for the outpost here to be fully constructed before pushing forward with the next phase. I’ll expand your fleet, but we’ll mainly focus on adding more vanguard-class ships—we need to conserve resources.”

Seele wasn’t the least bit upset about receiving cheaper frontline ships. In fact, the moment she heard "save money," her eyes lit up.

Literally.

A glow of psionic energy flickered through them.

“Brother Lin… you mean that thing—”

“Yeah. The Imperial Research Institute’s military division just reported that it’s entered the testing phase. Once it clears modular trials, we’ll move into mass production.”

The battleship tech was nearly complete. Once the L-Drake’s combat data was fully analyzed, Chen Lin planned to customize its equipment layout accordingly.

If possible, he wanted to build an all-sniper battleship fleet.

After all—who wouldn’t want a super long-range artillery fleet capable of firing across several light-years?

How was that even possible?

Stacking ridiculous amounts of bonuses.

Back when particle lances were first introduced, their effective range had been a mere one million kilometers.

At least, that was the number Clara had calculated.

And yet, when the weapons were actually fired, the Imperial scientists had all turned dead serious, while Clara wore an expression of, "Wait, did I mess up my math?"

But no matter how many times they ran the numbers—Clara’s calculations were correct.

In the end, Chen Lin smoothed things over by invoking the all-purpose excuse of Imperial psionic engineering.

As for why Chen Lin was only expanding vanguard ships like corvettes and destroyers—it was because those ships were cheaper to build with less alloy cost.

Even though Little Shi Sha had annihilated the Rilu system, granting him access to special alloy-producing structures, those buildings still required extensive colony networks to fully implement.

Both Jarilo-VI and his other two colonized planets had already built World Eater Shrines, and even Sterbe had followed suit after its own construction projects wrapped up.

But even with all those stacked bonuses, the amount of alloy he could produce wasn’t enough.

If he wanted to build an entire fleet of battleships, saving up alloys was absolutely necessary.

After all, what’s the point of researching the tech if you can’t afford to build the damn ships?

That would make him a clown.

Chen Lin went over a long list of important tasks with Seele, including the deployment of the Xianzhou Cloud Knights.

Even though he hadn’t specifically requested this unit from Jing Yuan, the general had gone ahead and sent them anyway.

Since they were already here, Chen Lin needed to give them something to do.

Neither of them was the type to let personal relationships override their responsibilities as leaders.

Chen Lin fully understood Jing Yuan’s intentions and was happy to let him get involved.

After all, this was Luofu’s first official military operation beyond its own borders—a clear declaration of allegiance.

It was beneficial to both sides, so there was no reason to turn them away.

Seele saw the logic behind it as well.

After some thought, she suggested,

"General Fia and I are advancing quickly, and fleet maneuvers are too cumbersome for the Cloud Knights. It’s also too dangerous for them to keep up with us. So I suggest splitting their forces: let part of the Luofu fleet join Steward-General’s Third Fleet to reinforce our rear lines. The rest can come forward to assist us in sweeping up any remaining resistance along our path—securing the frontlines."

Chen Lin gave it a moment of consideration before nodding.

"Good plan. Let’s go with that."

Regardless, clearing up the rear was an absolute necessity. The Luofu fleet was more than capable of handling it.

He had underestimated the Xianzhou’s naval power at first.

Sure, he had known that the Xianzhou took "hunting the stars" as its mission, and that both its starships and ground forces were well-developed.

He had even guessed they might have a few hundred K in fleet power.

But the moment the Cloud Knights' fleet entered his territory, the combat power estimate displayed a staggering 900K—nearly 1M.

Even Qingque had been stunned when she saw the numbers.

She had grumbled to Chen Lin about how the Luofu had practically sent its entire military force, leaving barely any troops behind on the ship itself.

Its defense now relied entirely on the Six Charioteers holding the line.

That was precisely why, when Chen Lin proposed investigating the ruins of the Tamz civilization, Jing Yuan outright refused to leave Luofu.

At most, he was willing to send Fu Xuan to accompany Chen Lin.

Luofu was still recovering from economic turmoil while its relationship with the IPC’s branch offices was rapidly deteriorating.

If Jing Yuan left at this crucial moment, there was a chance—however small—that the IPC might take the opportunity to launch a desperate, all-or-nothing strike.

Even if that possibility was extremely low, it wasn’t a gamble Jing Yuan was willing to take.

A sure-win situation where all he had to do was hold the line—Jing Yuan wasn’t an idiot. Why the hell would he gamble on that?

Since Luofu’s fleet had enough firepower to help his three fleets sweep the L-Drakes within their operational zone, Chen Lin had agreed to the arrangement.

Otherwise, at most, he would have stationed Luofu’s fleet at the L-Gate’s entry point to hold the jump bridge, the safest spot in the entire battlefield.

He wasn’t crazy enough to send them to their deaths.

Seele had taken note of all of Chen Lin’s orders, but after a moment of hesitation, she looked up—then looked away again.

Chen Lin caught the hesitation immediately.

“Hm? If you’ve got something to ask, just ask.”

“Well… I know I’m in charge of the frontlines, and maybe it’s not my place to ask this, but…”

Seele let out a dry laugh, knowing she’d been caught. She reached into her reinforced exosuit, pulled out a canned drink, and tossed it over.

“…How’s Belobog holding up?”

War meant a massive drain on resources and finances.

Seele had been on the frontlines for months, and she couldn’t help but worry about how things were back home.

Was the war effort fully prepared?

Would it affect the everyday lives of the people?

As a military commander, it wasn’t something she had the authority to manage—but that didn’t mean she didn’t care.

She had held back from asking about it over and over in past communications.

But keeping the question bottled up only made her feel worse.

Chen Lin cracked open the drink and took a sip before answering casually,

“Peaceful, stable, business as usual. Everything’s fine.”

“This war isn’t nearly enough to disrupt daily life. Everyone’s still eating, drinking, going about their day like always.”

Seele exhaled, relieved.

“Good… That’s good.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s completely fine.”

Chen Lin swirled the drink in his hand.

“There are plenty of outsiders watching us, just waiting for something to go wrong so they can feast on our carcass. Some of them have even infiltrated already—I want to see what their next move is.”

As he spoke, an image surfaced in his mind—the 'Silver Wolf' of Qlipoth Fort.

What was she up to?

Even now, he still had no clue.

But one thing was certain:

If she had wanted him dead, she had plenty of chances to act.

Yet, she hadn’t.

Once Li Sushang had finished eating, Chen Lin dragged his little apprentice over to the transport ship to snap a photo.

He might not be able to grant all of her wishes, but this was an easy one.

The L-Drake was incredibly docile—if he had fully tamed it, he wouldn’t have had her take a picture on the transport ship.

He would’ve let her ride the damn dragon.

Once the photo shoot was done, master and apprentice returned to Belobog—just in time for the morning sun.

Pela immediately whisked Li Sushang away for her studies, while Chen Lin headed straight for his study.

He wanted to see what kind of mischief that Masked Fool had cooked up during his day-long absence.

The moment he pushed open the door,

He saw Silver Wolf lounging in his chair, legs propped up, gaming.

Her foot swung lazily in the air, keeping rhythm with the game’s sound effects.

Hearing him walk in, she barely glanced up before going right back to her game.

“Yo. Where’d you run off to?”

---

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!