Elo spoke slowly, his voice steady and powerful.

  "Our arrival will inevitably shake the old order of those civilizations and reshape their existing social structures.

  Whether we choose to intervene or not, whether we are willing or not, in the end, we cannot avoid becoming a black hole on the international stage."

  He paused slightly, his gaze piercing through the void, as if locking eyes with every citizen.

  "If the situation develops to that point, we will completely lose our strategic initiative.

  Fighting passively has never been the Federation’s choice—nor has it ever been mine.

  Therefore, we must curb the risks at their source and ensure that the situation always remains in our control."

  His tone remained firm, each word like an unyielding decree.

  "So—we must do everything in our power to ensure that the Federation's existence remains undiscovered by less advanced civilizations."

  He continued, his gaze unwavering, his voice as calm and decisive as ever.

  "As long as they remain unaware of our existence, they will not be influenced by us.

  No one will commit atrocities in my name, nor will anyone suffer because of my presence.

  Only in this way can we prevent the chaos—even disaster—that could arise because of us."

  He paused, his gaze sweeping across everyone before he spoke, acknowledging:

  "Of course, in practice, we will face various challenges.

  But compared to the potential catastrophe that the Federation's exposure could bring—

  those challenges are insignificant."

  Elo's words fell, and the cabinet members nodded one after another.

  Regardless of whether they fully agreed with this decision in their hearts, in front of the public, they had to give their full support to the Emperor’s policy.

  Moreover, this policy was indeed the best solution under the current circumstances—

  not only did it align with the interests of the royal family, but it was also the optimal choice for the public.

  Even on the international stage, it was undoubtedly the most stable course of action.

  They understood this because everyone was aware of an undeniable reality—

  the government must do everything in its power to preserve the Emperor’s current personality and values.

  In other words, their duty was not only to govern the Federation but also to ensure that the Emperor remained as enlightened and benevolent as he was now.

  If the Emperor were to become extreme, if he were to turn into a complete tyrant—

  it would not only plunge the Federation into catastrophic turmoil but could also trigger an unpredictable storm on the international stage.

  Thus, their decisions had never been merely about policy—they were about the Emperor himself.

  About the beliefs he upheld, about his attitude toward the world, and even about the future of the entire era.

  So here came the question—if the interests of the royal family were ever to conflict with the interests of the public, how should the government choose?

  In most nations, the answer to this question would likely be clear: the government would unhesitatingly stand on the side of the people, safeguarding their interests.

  But the Federation was different.

  The Federation was not an ordinary nation, and the royal family was not an ordinary royal family.

  This country is an unprecedented political product in human history, born out of extreme circumstances and established under extreme conditions.

  Under such a national structure, the government had almost no choice.

  They had to stand firmly on the side of the royal family, because if the royal family suffered, the stability of the entire nation would face an even greater shock.

  Under these circumstances, anyone with even a shred of political wisdom would understand—

  only by binding public interests tightly to the interests of the royal family could the long-term stability of the nation be secured.

  This was not a simple matter of trade-offs; it was about ensuring that the strength of the royal family became the very foundation of public welfare.

  Only in this way could the order of the state remain unshaken, the progress of society continue, and the Federation avoid turmoil and collapse.

  —Back to the present—

  Vian gave a slight nod, indicating that she understood Elo’s reasoning, though it was clear she did not fully agree.

  "So, according to you, only nations on the same level as us can establish diplomatic relations with us?

  And beyond that, we must ensure that they are friendly rather than hostile?"

  Elo did not respond, simply watching her in silence, signaling for her to continue.

  "Then, I have a question—how do we ensure that they remain friendly?"

  Elo gave a slight nod. "Go on."

  Vian’s tone remained calm, but her words grew more insightful, making no effort to downplay the gravity of the issue.

  "The Federation has only ten thousand people, with neither industry nor agriculture capable of self-sufficiency—its survival depends entirely on Alaya’s support.

  Our military power? Almost negligible.

  Alaya is certainly powerful, but if the nations you describe as being ‘on our level’ truly exist, they likely have similar higher beings of their own.

  So, here’s the real question—what guarantees that they will always remain friendly toward us?

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  What do we have to deter them, to ensure they don't dare to wage war on us?

  And in our dealings with them, how do we protect our interests and our people?"

  Elo remained silent, merely watching her, giving her space to lay out the full weight of her argument.

  Vian paused for a moment, and her tone carried a hint of sarcasm:

  "Or perhaps, when you say ‘nations on the same level as the Federation,’

  what you actually mean is—those in the exact same predicament as us?

  Also with only a population of ten thousand? Also with industry and agriculture unable to sustain themselves? Also having to rely on some higher being for survival?

  If that’s the case, then tell me—

  just how many ‘diplomatic partners’ do you think we can actually find?"

  Many had already realized that Vian’s true intention was not to discuss diplomatic strategy but to question the future direction of the Federation’s development.

  Elo looked at Vian, his tone carrying a hint of impatience. "Do you enjoy beating around the bush? If you already have a conclusion, why not just say it outright?"

  The Prime Minister watched the Emperor in silence. He knew very well that Elo could not possibly have missed the deeper meaning in the Grand Princess’s words.

  Yet, he still chose to let Vian finish.

  This was not merely about giving her the opportunity to speak—it was about solidifying her political standing and granting her greater political authority.

  Vian shot Elo a speechless glance before speaking bluntly, without the slightest courtesy.

  "What I’m saying is—if we don’t establish diplomatic relations with less advanced civilizations, how do we achieve rapid development?

  Without a strong industrial base, agriculture, technology, and military, how do we defend our security and interests when facing civilizations on our level—or even higher ones?"

  She stared at Elo with a meaningful gaze, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugging at her lips, her eyes carrying a trace of provocation.

  "Or when the war comes, are you planning to merge with the system and blow up the entire universe?"

  At these words, Elo chuckled softly, his tone indifferent. "That’s not a bad idea."

  His mother smiled gently, her expression calm and unreadable.

  The Cabinet members exchanged faint smiles, clearly pleased to see such a conversation between the siblings.

  Vian rolled her eyes, making no effort to hide her speechlessness.

  After the Prime Minister smiled, he quickly suppressed his smile, his expression returning to formality, and his tone became steady and powerful.

  "Your Majesty, the issues raised by Her Highness Vian are ones we cannot avoid. They are core matters that we must confront and resolve.

  However, aside from these key issues, there is one fundamental problem that needs to be addressed—

  whether it be industrial, agricultural, technological, or military development, the foundation of it all hinges on one decisive factor—labor."

  Elo remained calm, clearly waiting for the Prime Minister to elaborate.

  "Even if we possess sufficient land suitable for development, without an adequate labor force, everything will remain theoretical—completely meaningless.

  Furthermore, relying solely on the Federation’s natural population growth to fill the labor gap is simply unrealistic.

  Before the catastrophe, the U.S. manufacturing sector alone employed 13 million workers.

  And that figure was sustained by the presence of a global supply chain.

  If we strip away the factor of the global supply chain, those 13 million workers would be far from sufficient to sustain modern production."

  The Prime Minister paused slightly, allowing the others time to absorb the information before continuing.

  "If we aim to reach the level of modern development that the U.S. had before the catastrophe—

  and if we intend to achieve this through completely independent production, without relying on a global supply chain—

  then this means we will need at least 200 million workers."

  Vian slowly nodded, her gaze landing on Elo. Her brow arched slightly, and her tone carried a deep implication.

  "So, do you still think ‘avoiding contact with other civilizations’ is a realistic option?"

  Elo nodded, his expression unchanged, his tone calm. "No, it’s unrealistic."

  Vian paused for a moment, clearly not expecting him to admit it so directly.

  She let out a soft scoff, her tone carrying a hint of dissatisfaction. "Oh? So you do know it’s unrealistic?"

  Elo chuckled lightly. "I’m not an idiot. How could I possibly be unaware of something so obvious?"

  Vian narrowed her eyes slightly, watching him with suspicion. "Then what you’re saying is… you already have a solution?"

  Elo gave a slight nod and spoke slowly.

  "Under normal circumstances, this would indeed be unrealistic."

  He lifted his gaze, his eyes sharp and confident, his tone unwavering.

  "But our current situation—is anything but normal."

  The eyes of everyone present turned to the Emperor, anticipating the solution he was about to present.

  "What do we do about the labor shortage?"

  Elo slowly uttered a single term, each word crisp and forceful.

  "Transcendent Machine Servant."

  Upon hearing this, the attendees had already begun to form their own speculations, faintly grasping the significance behind the term.

  Vian frowned slightly. To be honest, she was somewhat disappointed.

  But even so, she chose to let Elo finish.

  "If we rely solely on human labor for development,I can’t even begin to imagine how many years it would take for humanity to truly step beyond the solar system.

  And for the Federation, our situation is more severe than any other nation—we have only ten thousand citizens.

  So, we have no other choice—we must rely on AI and machines."

  In reality, over the past five years, the government had repeatedly discussed its national development strategy, with labor shortages remaining an unavoidable core issue.

  When it came to this problem, the Federation's options had always been extremely limited—there was virtually only one viable path:

  First, in the short term, relying on the labor force of other nations to fill the gap and ease production pressure.

  Second, in the long run, the Federation would inevitably have to depend on intelligent automation, replacing traditional labor with a massive workforce of smart machines.

  However, Elo’s diplomatic policy had already completely ruled out the first option—the Federation would not rely on foreign labor.

  That left the Federation with only one choice—AI and machines.

  This was the reason for Vian’s disappointment.

  She had hoped that Elo would propose a solution that far exceeded expectations—a truly complete, efficient, and even groundbreaking path to development.

  But now, it seemed his decision was still the very one that everyone had already anticipated.

  She understood that this path was not wrong; in fact, it was the only solution.

  Yet, deep down, she still wished that Elo could create an entirely new possibility—

  a future that surpassed everyone’s understanding.

  Elo's voice remained steady, yet his words sank like a stone into the deep sea, sending ripples across the minds of those present.

  "Of course, I know that the Federation lacks the capability to produce Machine Servants.

  But—does the system lack that capability as well?

  I also understand that one or two Machine Servants would be meaningless.

  But what if their numbers were infinite?

  I know that Machine Servants can never fully replace humans.

  But what if— they were a Transcendent creation?"

  He paused briefly, his gaze sweeping over the room, as if waiting for them to arrive at the conclusion on their own.

  Then, he continued.

  "And the price we have to pay is just one thing—completing system tasks.

  Right now, we are in the middle of a system task—[March 16th Royal Cabinet Meeting].

  The task rewards may not seem particularly generous, but they address the very core of our labor shortage.

  1,000 Transcendent Machine Servants Lv1,

  1 Machine Servant Command Center Lv1.

  With the equipment in the Machine Servant Command Center, just 200 people—assisted by AI—could seamlessly command 1,000 Machine Servants."

  Elo did not pause in the slightest as he continued.

  "Of course, I know—one citizen controlling five Machine Servants is still far from enough to meet our labor demands.

  But this is only—Lv1.

  These 1,000 Transcendent Machine Servants Lv1 are nothing more than a reward for holding a single meeting.

  If this trend continues, in the future, could we not reach the point where—

  one person commands tens of thousands, or even hundreds of thousands, millions of Machine Servants?"

  "Of course, achieving that scale will require meeting a series of conditions."

  His tone remained calm yet unwavering, his gaze piercing like a flame.

  "But no matter how stringent those conditions may be—

  we will fulfill them."

  He paused, his eyes sweeping across everyone, his tone growing even more firm and resolute.

  "Not a Transcendent? Lacking Transcendent knowledge? Unfamiliar with Transcendent technology?

  It doesn’t matter—because I can lend you the system.

  At that point, we will be no different from characters in a game—

  endlessly challenging, leveling up, completing quests, and earning rewards.

  You are the top elites among 8.5 billion people—are you telling me you can’t even beat a game?"

  The Emperor’s voice surged like a torrential flood, piercing straight into the depths of every citizen’s soul.

  This declaration sent an involuntary tremor through their hearts.

  The system, system tasks, system rewards—these were miracles they had never anticipated in the past five years.

  Vian let out a small breath of relief—"gamers" was indeed a surprising answer.

  However, this surprise did not leave her truly gratified.

  Because AI, robots, and even the concept of "gamers" had never truly surpassed the limits of human imagination.

  She understood well that this was not due to any limitation of the system’s capabilities, but simply because this path aligned best with Elo’s will.

  Long ago, her brother had already wished for reality to be like a game—relaxed, enjoyable, and filled with fun.

  And now, the system was merely carrying out its master’s will with absolute fidelity.

  Although it didn’t quite surprise Vian, it was already enough—

  At the very least, her brother seemed pleased.