Starting from the Planetary Governor
Chapter 15: I Always Trust the Governor

Hodgson called for a show of hands, but the room remained silent.

The council members looked at each other, unwilling to be the first to speak.

Hodgson grew impatient.

He pointed at a middle-aged man: “You run a large food trade business, you speak first.”

The man being pointed at was Councilman Wohan.

He stood up, defiant: “We cannot accept the Governor’s demands, this is too much! He has done nothing for us, yet repeatedly demands we provide supplies! Last time, it was to supply the servitors he brought, and the burden of those over three thousand people was already heavy. This time it’s even worse! One hundred tons of food! Ten thousand sets of textiles! Does our Governor even understand what that entails?!”

“But we must obey the Governor’s orders,” another person said helplessly.

“Otherwise, we will be seen as rebels. The macro cannon is not something that reasons with us, and we… we cannot afford to lose the Empire’s aid or interstellar trade, which all require the Governor’s signature.”

Wohan sneered: “You got rich acting as an interstellar trade broker for the Blackbird Industrial Group, so of course, you value trade shares and are eager to kiss the Governor’s ass, without caring whether Revival City’s economy can bear it.”

The named person immediately retorted: “You hoarded two months’ worth of grain, waiting to jack up prices in winter. The grain that needs to be sent to the Governor will come from your stock, delaying your profits, right? You are the one who doesn’t care about violating the Governor’s orders and exposing Revival City to the macro cannon’s threat!”

Seeing the council members about to argue again, Hodgson had to bang the table once more.

“Enough, stop arguing.”

Hodgson’s aged voice sounded, “I asked for a vote, not for more reasons. I just need an answer. When voting, think carefully about where to source these supplies if we agree; if we disagree, think about what to do with the interstellar trade shares, the Empire’s aid quotas, and the orbital strike threat. Now, vote. Those in favor of complying with the Governor’s order, raise your hands. Those who don’t raise their hands are considered opposed; there are no abstentions.”

After he finished speaking, he reluctantly raised his hand.

With him leading, the other council members, hesitantly, unwillingly, but ultimately, one by one, raised their hands.

Even Wohan, who had previously shouted about whether the Governor understood what one hundred tons of grain and ten thousand textiles meant, reluctantly raised his hand.

This elicited a chuckle from those around him.

He couldn’t refute it and could only mumble, “What can we do? Do we really want to lose the quotas? Damn… this Governor is really unreasonable. Why can’t he just stay in Revival City? That way, we would have at least nineteen ways to make him behave…”

“Watch your words!”

Hodgson reprimanded hoarsely.

The man obediently shut his mouth but still looked unconvinced.

…

After the meeting, Hodgson, in a wheelchair, was pushed back to his room by a young man.

The young man did not leave and reported: “Grandpa, after the meeting, Wohan gathered his subordinates and contacted several mercenary brokers.”

“He wouldn’t dare harm the Governor; he can’t afford the consequences.”

“But he might target the goods being shipped out of Revival City.”

Hearing this, Hodgson said expressionlessly: “Let him be. Whatever the consequences, he will bear them. Just keep an eye on him and his people, and see what they do.”

“I’m worried he will anger the Governor and bring disaster to Revival City.”

“Sigh…”

Hodgson sighed, “What can we do? I am the Council Head, but only that. Even if I know about it, how can I stop Wohan?”

His voice was somewhat desolate.

Instead, his grandson, standing behind him, comforted: “On the first day the Governor arrived, he publicly declared his intention to rebuild the wasteland world and improve everyone’s lives. He shouldn’t be so easily provoked to irrational actions against Revival City.”

“Haha.”

Hodgson laughed dryly and hoarsely.

“You don’t trust this new Governor?”

“No, I always trust the Governor,” Hodgson waved his hand. “Only the Governor can save Fury Owl Planet.”

However, there was a half-sentence he didn’t share with his grandson:

“I just don’t know if it’s this Governor.”

…

Gu Hang received a message from Revival City saying they agreed to his demands but needed eight days to transport the specified supplies.

He was slightly surprised; these people agreed more easily than he expected. He thought there would be more pushback.

But it didn’t matter.

Although the situation he hoped for didn’t occur, the supplies were real, so it wasn’t a loss.

It was still early, and he didn’t dwell on the matter.

Yan Fangxu should be returning soon, as Gu Hang had already seen the combat settlement interface popping up on the system.

【Resounding Victory, Gained 1 Point of Grace】

【Losses: 0, Enemies Eliminated: 45, Captured: 13】

【1st Servitor Battalion – 1st Company: Losses: 0, Enemies Eliminated: 38】

【Marine Corps: Losses: 0, Enemies Eliminated: 7】

Earlier, Gu Hang had dispatched Yan Fangxu to lead a team to eliminate the remaining ‘Prisoners of the Void’.

There were only a few guards and some old, weak, and women left there.

As expected, his forces suffered no losses while completely annihilating the enemy.

According to Gu Hang’s orders, all remaining ‘Prisoners of the Void’ were to be executed.

These cannibals and human traffickers were given no chance of survival by Gu Hang.

Their bodies were to be hung in their destroyed camp, with a warning written in their blood:

“The Fate of Cannibals!”

Receiving just 1 point of grace after the battle was also within expectations.

The enemy was too weak to provide much benefit.

He didn’t mind.

Once Yan Fangxu returned, he had a new mission for the Marine Captain.

Afterward, he went to check on his two black box fabricators.

These machines were placed not far from the camp, guarded by dedicated servitor soldiers, and surrounded by a makeshift factory enclosure. Only authorized workers were allowed inside.

When Gu Hang arrived, the machines were in operation.

A batch of ore transported from the Wasteland Society had already been delivered.

Workers fed the ore into the input port, and the black box fabricator began its work.

The cacophony of grinding, vibrating, and high-temperature processes filled the air, though it wasn’t overly loud.

The materials fed into the black box fabricator underwent a series of mysterious and unknown transformations, finally emerging as high-quality alloy plastic steel from the output port.

The gleaming alloy ingots showcased their strength and toughness perfectly.

The alloy produced by the black box fabricators was an excellent material.

Workers standing by would then load the produced alloy plastic steel into the input port of another fabricator.

Next, the mother machine black box started working.

After a while, a crucial component for constructing a smelting furnace was extruded from the output port and moved by workers to another part of the warehouse.

Many parts were already stored there, some large and cast in one piece, others small but highly precise.

They were meticulously categorized and ready for transport back to the Wasteland Society, where they could be assembled into smelting furnaces capable of producing alloy plastic steel.

Gu Hang was extremely satisfied.