There Must Be Something Wrong With This Game!

The Glazed Tower, the base of Luminous Heavy Industry, was also the center of Wing City.

This tower stood 3,172 meters tall. Only registered citizens had the means to reside within it, and they still had to pay a hefty rent.

Its interior housed food processing plants, sewage treatment facilities, hospitals, schools, and more. It wanted for nothing.

Many people had never set foot outside the Glazed Tower since the day they were born, which was why Hyena had once mistaken Duan Fei for a young master who had wandered out from within.

The higher the floor, the higher a citizen’s rank, and the more important their position within Luminous Heavy Industry.

Over a million people worked here, dedicating their youth and sweat to the prosperity of Luminous Heavy Industry and the prestige of its president.

In an executive office, a group of high-level managers stared at a screen displaying surveillance data.

The Memory Bank had been obliterated by a satellite weapon. The bank director’s consciousness was redownloaded, but he had no memory of the final few minutes.

Given the director’s antisocial tendencies, he was highly suspected of having reached some sort of last-minute agreement with the attackers. He was currently under guard and awaiting interrogation.

And yesterday’s surprise attack had dragged Luminous Heavy Industry’s reputation through the mud.

For a corporation renowned for its weaponry, having to resort to a satellite weapon to claim victory was a disgrace.

Worse still, the satellite weapon wasn’t even developed by Luminous Heavy Industry.

It was the sword of Damocles that the Moral Code used to control the major corporations. Deploying that weapon was an admission that a corporation lacked confidence in its own power, to the point of needing to ask the Moral Code for help.

The number of orders began to fall, the company’s stock price plummeted, and major shareholders started putting pressure on Luminous Heavy Industry, telling them that if they didn’t get the situation under control, they were finished.

Thus, to showcase Luminous Heavy Industry’s raw power, they quickly organized a weapons test, preparing to use mercenaries’ lives to prove that their weapons were still second to none.

The first wave of drone attacks was over. Half of the registered mercenary squads had been eliminated. Many of the remaining teams had forfeited, declaring that the old guard still reigned supreme and that Luminous Heavy Industry’s technology was number one in the world!

Seeing the data that came back, the executives breathed a sigh of relief. They now had plenty of footage to edit.

They just had to edit it a bit and release it on social media. The thrill of death and destruction would get the public’s blood pumping and help stabilize Luminous Heavy Industry’s stock price.

The executive chairing the meeting presented the data, saying, "Most of the mercenary squads have withdrawn, but there are some unusual exceptions. Some people shot down the drones in their very first encounter. Their files are all here."

A long list of mercenary squads appeared on the screen. The "Salted Fish Squad," which included Duan Fei, was on the list, but it wasn’t particularly conspicuous among the numerous images.

"According to our investigation, most of these are formidable mercenary squads. Some are even the private soldiers of certain high-ranking officials, so we..."

The presenter was cut off bluntly. An executive asked, "Get to the point. How is the script progressing?"

"It’s ready," the presenter said with a smile. "We’ve applied to the Moral Code to broadcast this experiment under the name ’Military-Industrial Challenge.’ We will gradually up the ante throughout the process, constantly increasing the intensity of the weaponry to showcase our military strength and reverse our public image."

"A reality show, eh? I get it," one executive said, smiling as he puffed on a cigar. "Not bad. Continue."

"That’s right, a reality show, but it will be concentrated into a four-day event. Afterward, we’ll release a director’s cut, add interviews with the participants, and open up betting. We’ll turn this challenge into an opportunity and make another killing. Our team has already mapped out the entire process. You can all watch it directly."

The group downloaded the presenter’s script via a link. After watching it, they all nodded, agreeing that it was an excellent script.

But someone asked, "I see you’ve listed a champion, but why is the spot left vacant?"

"Because the champion is, of course, Luminous Heavy Industry," the presenter chuckled. "However, the finale must show the contestants working together to defeat one of our mechs, only for more Luminous Heavy Industry mechs to appear immediately after. This way, we allow the mercenaries to save face while also highlighting our own power. We’ve conducted extensive feasibility analyses on the entire process; there will be absolutely no issues."

"The other contestants will need rankings too, right? You haven’t planned for that?" the executive pressed.

"As for that," the presenter replied with a continuing smile, "isn’t that for you all to decide?"

The executive was taken aback for a moment, then nodded and began to laugh.

"Excellent. Some of the mercenary leaders are even our own relatives, so there’s no issue with your arrangement. We’ll decide their rankings. I thought you were just a talented individual, but your ingenuity far exceeds my imagination. What’s your name? How is it I’ve never seen you before?"

"Nemo," the presenter smiled. "A Descender. Nemo."

The name "Descender" made some of them tense up.

They had heard of the Descenders; the name was tied to a conflict from long ago.

In that conflict, various legendary figures, led by Arriver Gale, had launched a rebellion against the corporations. They ultimately crushed the corporate alliance and established a higher level of law above the endless firmament—the Moral Code.

To this day, the contents of the Moral Code had undergone earth-shattering changes, but it remained a sharp blade limiting the corporations, keeping each one from growing too audacious.

Sensing their wary glances, Nemo continued, "Don’t worry, I’m not like those hypocritical Descenders. I’m on your side. I require massive amounts of resources, massive amounts of Energy. Overthrowing you brings me no benefits. We are collaborators. I provide you with a way to help yourselves, and you give me resources. It’s that simple."

As the former leader of the Icefield Walkers, a man who had ruled the Icefields for a long time through clever little tricks, Nemo was very good at persuading others.

His tone was sincere, his gaze earnest, and his forceful gestures made it seem as if he truly had the executives’ best interests at heart, which earned him a great deal of goodwill from the group.

Still, one of them said worriedly, "But..."

"I have a recommendation and sponsorship from a Level 9 Citizen, right here on my personal terminal."

Someone immediately looked up Nemo’s personal information and, sure enough, confirmed it.

As the only Level 9 Citizen, people didn’t even dare to speak his name, only referring to him respectfully as "that gentleman."

That gentleman presided over the Moral Code and was the only being with the authority to amend it. In this world, his status was comparable to that of an emperor.

With his backing, the group finally had no further objections. They nodded and said, "In that case, we agree. So, what is it that you want?"

"Energy. Enough Energy to fill this."

Nemo said seriously, taking out a small sphere.

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