Chapter 135: Competitions
The air within the grand chamber of the Beijing Imperial Palace was a heavy, suffocating blanket of dread, far removed from the petty human politics it typically hosted. President Zhi Jin Ming, his impeccably tailored suit a stark and vulnerable contrast, knelt amidst a dozen of China’s most influential corporate giants and patriarchs of elite families. These were individuals who commanded vast empires of wealth and wielded immense power in their own right, yet here, they were reduced to trembling, utterly subservient figures.
Seated upon thrones carved from dark, gleaming obsidian, draped in opulent robes of silk embroidered with golden, coiled dragons—a macabre twist on human royal regalia—were the Harvest Leaders. Krill Shen, a male, loomed sixteen feet tall, his dark purple scales absorbing and reflecting the ambient light with a faint, oily sheen. A silent, predatory stillness emanated from his massive form.
Beside him, Krill Kai, his female companion, was a comparatively smaller, though no less intimidating, fourteen feet of coiled reptilian power. Both radiated an oppressive aura of ancient dominance, an instinctual fear that pressed down on the kneeling humans, forcing their heads ever lower to the polished marble floor. Along each towering pillar, ten-foot-tall Krill guards stood like living, armed statues, their powerful frames rigid, exotic spears held ready.
President Zhi Jin Ming, his voice a practiced deference that barely masked his fear, broke the strained silence. "Your Majesties," he began, his gaze fixed on the floor, "our country’s monthly harvest has exceeded expectations. Two point three million units have been prepared for transport."
Krill Shen’s massive head tilted slightly, his reptilian eyes assessing the human with a chilling detachment. "Good, " his voice rumbled, a sound like shifting tectonic plates, resonating through the very stone of the chamber. "You serve us well." With a casual flick of a clawed hand, a cascade of shimmering silver vials, each filled with liquid light, rolled down the steps before the kneeling humans. Their eyes widened with desperate avarice. Each snatched a vial, quickly, almost frantically, consuming the precious fluid. The silver light briefly pulsed beneath their skin, a fleeting warmth promising extended life and enhanced vitality, a temporary reprieve from the relentless march of time.
Krill Shen then shifted his gaze back to the President, the fleeting satisfaction in his voice quickly fading into a cold, strategic query. "Is your human technology now capable of competing with the sector controlled by Krill Khian and Krull’kahn? The American zone?"
President Zhi Jin Ming hesitated, a flicker of genuine anxiety crossing his face. "Your Majesty, we are still... catching up. However, we have gained critical intelligence." He gestured, and a secure data slate shimmered into existence, floating towards Shen. "We have discovered that the American black sites, particularly those associated with their DARPA program, have developed various advanced technologies. Much of it remains on the surface, civilian-facing, but our intelligence strongly suggests they completed anti-gravity technology a long time ago. Furthermore, their advancements in military applications and artificial intelligence are proceeding at an alarming rate."
Krill Shen received the slate, his sharp eyes scanning the data, a low, guttural growl rumbling in his chest. Khian and Kahn. Those insolent, fallen bastards. Their zone, the US, is clearly planning to escalate a global conflict. His own zone, China, was barely catching up. Chancellor Shuha’dar, in his twisted wisdom, had not established a rule preventing Harvest Leaders from invading other zones. This meant the entire planet was a ruthless, silent competition. If one faction could monopolize the Anu-blood supply, it would ensure less hassle for the distant Krill Imperial family, who, in turn, would reward the successful Harvest Leader immensely.
Shen’s fury at the Emperor, Krill Mainu, was a constant, simmering heat beneath his scales. The Emperor callously hoarded sixty percent of the Anu-blood for himself, leaving the rest of them, the nobles, to scrounge for meager scraps, with only pathetic rations trickling down to the citizen Krills. He was also mad at the emperor but, the Emperor was on their side. These greedy bastards! he thought the picture of Krill Khian and Krull’kahn controlling the planet, his gaze momentarily flicking towards Krill Kai, who remained impassive, her own calculations doubtless mirroring his.
Many Harvest Leaders, him included, were engaged in the risky but necessary practice of smuggling their monthly harvest, underreporting half of what they actually collected, all to build their own private stashes of human blood. His family had been specifically tasked by the Emperor to secure control of this planet through this brutal, zero-sum competition. Each zone, each human country, was theirs to manage as they pleased, provided the quota was met. But they were also explicitly free to invade other zones.
He remembered the human timeline, their "late medieval ages," when zone invasion was frequent, a chaotic free-for-all until human technology developed enough for them to adapt a new societal rule, a fragile peace where no one could freely invade without overwhelming justification. But now... now those fallen noble craps, Khian and Kahn, are advancing! With their technologically superior garbage! It’s not a matter of time before they initiate a full invasion on every zone and kick every harvest leaders out of this competition!