embryos, or rather, consumables.

Carlil calmly put down the papers in his hand.

Thirteen thousand two hundred and forty-one, say more or less, say no less. But for the Eighth Regiment on the Nightfall, it was a big problem.

"We don't have the capacity to house them right now." Conrad Coetzes said bitterly.

"There are only soldiers and weapons on the Nightfall, and we have no tools or machines to change the environment in Nostramo. Even if all the soldiers of the Legion were sent out to maintain order, it would only create a much larger violent organization."

"Like you said, Carlil, they're definitely going to try to join our 'gang'."

The Lord of the Eighth Legion shook his head, his voice soft, "I don't want to see that happen. ”

Carlil smiled, and Coz's mood calmed down at this moment. The anxiety and the feeling of powerlessness that I had no idea what to do about it were temporarily gone. Before he knew it, he seemed to be the midnight ghost again.

To this, the instructor of the Eighth Regiment simply gave a calm gaze.

There are some things that must be corrected.

"Well, you'll have to figure it out for yourself." Carlil said. "You don't have to come to me for everything and want my opinion or advice."

"Do you want to prevaricate me with that sentence again?" Kotz frowned disapprehensively.

"Which word?"

"You are the master of the Eighth Legion." Conrad Coetzee replied angrily, not like the learning, but the helplessness in that tone was very accurate.

Carlil couldn't help but laugh dumbly, but after a brief smile, a deeper emotion emerged.

"If you keep going like this, I will." He said calmly. "If you come to me like this and rely on me for everything, one day, I will really become the de facto master of the Eighth Legion."

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb, I can see that's what you're thinking, Conrad."

Carlil shook his head.

"Don't you know that those updates to the letter of appointment one a day were found by you painstakingly flipping through the code and buttoning the words one by one? Expanding the name of an instructor to such an extent is really painstaking. ”

"I don't understand what you're talking about." Coetz looked up and replied.

"There's a clear line between pretending not to understand and really not understanding, and I'm all too familiar with that look on your 'really don't understand,' Conrad."

"I just wanted to ask you what you should do about it."

Coates leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands in the same manner as Carlil at certain moments. There was a palpable displeasure in his eyes.

"Is that also wrong?"

"It's okay to discuss, but not to ask for my opinion. And your attitude is clearly the latter. Conrad, you have realized how important your duty is, but you must try to throw away your dependence on me. ”

"People are always dependent on something." Konrad Coetzes said.

He stretched out his right hand, and Sen Han's short knife poked out of his sleeve in the next second, and the speed was terrifying.

"Prove it with my gifts?"

"Prove it with your gifts."

Carlil chuckled again - the brief temptation was over, and he had come to a conclusion, though not the answer he most wanted, but

"It's only been ten days since you took office." He smiled and shook his head. "Okay. So, Lord of the Eighth Legion, tell me, what are you going to do? ”

Conrad Coetzes lowered his head and muttered for a moment. When he looked up again, his expression had become extremely serious.

"Adamantite Mine." He whispered solemnly.

"Thirteen thousand two hundred forty-one. Even if the eight-year-olds were crossed off the list, there would be enough people left to mine a huge pit. ”

"Sixteen-year-olds do paperwork or simple transportation, and twenty-year-olds come to mine. The aristocrats had machines to make clothes, and we could use them to make a uniform. ”

"There are doctors on the Nightfall, clerical officers, and a few ordinary people living on the lower deck. We could have them go down and run a pit with people who didn't know anything about Nostramo. ”

"Workers." Carlil said noncommittally. "And then?"

"Normal working hours, normal food, clothing, shelter, and security, and in their leisure time the officials teach them High Gothic, and Nostramo can be studied together with the textbooks I have compiled."

"I've seen that there are several caves of adamantite outside of the wilderness of Plame. There's a location for now, Carlil. ”

"Fifty days is enough time for them to adapt to these environments, as long as they wait until fifty days later, the logistics fleet arrives, and the environment reconstruction can officially begin!"

Conrad Coetze's eyes sparkled.

It's interesting. Looking into those eyes, Carlil thought. I have lit the fire of violent vengeance, but you want to truly kindle a flame that will transform the world

"Don't you already have a complete plan?" Carlil asked. "Why do you want to come to me for a discussion? I finished my work early today. ”

"Can't I ask you?" Conrad Coetze said dissatisfied. "Are the instructors of the Eighth Regiment so busy?"

Carlil chuckled and looked at him, half silent. His gaze was quite calm, even peaceful—however, under such a gaze, Conrad Coetzes lowered his head a little.

I'm sorry." He whispered. "I forgot that the expansion of the mandate would bring more paperwork."

"There is no need to apologize. But, yesterday I saw twenty-seven servants who brought papers and eleven officers who consulted with me, two numbers that Conrad remembered. ”

Carlil nodded softly to the Lord of the Eighth Legion with a smirk. The latter sat in his chair and, for some reason, suddenly felt a chill down his spine.

Anyway, this is just the first step."

He hurriedly digressed from the subject. "The follow-up plan is to use this part of the Adamantite Mine to trade with the Extreme Star Field, I've heard that the Ultramarines and the world around Macurag are rich, but they are not so rich that they don't even want Adamantite Ore, right?"

"We haven't spoken to anyone from Maculag or the Ultramarines until now. However, the logistics fleet will come from there, and they should have a lot of valuable information to reveal."

Carlil stood up, straightened his collar, and nodded with a serious expression. "So, in general, Lord of the Eighth Legion, this proposal of yours seems to me to have very good prospects."

After saying this, he turned and left without hesitation. The Lord of the Eighth Legion sat in his chair and pinched the corners of his mouth with two fingers as the door closed.

A moment later, a slight and excited Nostramo voice rang out.

Outside the door, Carlil chuckled and shook his head.

"I hear you." He hissed at the door.

There was silence in the door for a moment, and there was an angry shout: "Didn't you say it too!" ”

There was no answer outside the door, only a chuckle fading away.

——

The next period of time passed quickly.

Carlil wasn't surprised by this, he understood this early on - when you're serious, time is the most escapeable thing in the world.

It would take a few hours to process the papers, a few hours to go to the lower deck to survey the number of civilians, and a few hours to discuss with the officials how to proceed with the next steps.

His days were divided into several distinct divisions of similar and different jobs, and as he shuttled between them, Carlil was at peace.

In the morning, he wore a formal suit to revise documents in rounds.

In the afternoon, he changed into a more dignified formal attire and went to a meeting with the officials.

In the evening, he beat up the soldiers of the Eighth Legion, who persistently came to challenge him, in the training ground.

Late at night, he would go out with different squads and go to Nostramo for a group 'hunt'.

The reason why it is called hunting and not purge is because the Eighth Legion has driven all the remaining nobles and gangs to some areas. They continue to live in it without knowing anything, completely unaware that their identity has changed dramatically.

- What?

Where is his break, you ask?

"You don't rest at all, don't you?" The commander of the first company, Van Cleef, asked cautiously.

"I want to, too." Carlil said expressionlessly. "The premise is that you have to ask the Lord of the Eighth Legion, who has been secretly observing the working conditions of the miners every day lately, to narrow down the scope of my authority a bit."

Van Cleef wisely didn't go any further, only to feel a little numb and trembling in the back molars—everyone on the Nightfall had reached a consensus these days.

Namely, Karil Lohals should be tired.

He should be tired, shouldn't he?

He has no time to rest, no time for private solitude. Even if it was to correct the documents, his door was open, because it would make it easier for the servants to enter and exit.

Therefore, the doubts about the 'Legion Instructor', which were obvious at the beginning, have gradually faded after witnessing them in these days, and have even evolved into an unspeakable and strange respect.

And Carlil knew this very well - Conrad Coates had asked him many times with uneasiness, and the look of guilt that he felt he had done something wrong made Carlil want to laugh out loud every time, but he held back every time.

They thought it was a torture that bordered on punishment, but for Carlil, it was a kind of rest.

Compared to the rainy night in Nostramo, everything is considered rest.

But

"Time flies, Van Cleef."

Carlil smiled and handed Van Cleef a stack of papers. That was the most recent week's assessment results of the first major league, and Siani was at the top. The company commander stretched out his hand to take it, nodded, and agreed with their instructor's words.

"Indeed." He whispered. "There are nine hours left until the scheduled time."

Today there are 10,000 and two more chapters, which will be sent separately.

After thinking about it for a while, I decided to speed it up a little.

(End of chapter)