Iliya accompanied Karu to the Tuba Galaxy, acting like a docile little bird the entire journey, sitting beside him with a sweet smile, quietly listening to the latest updates on the search efforts in the Tuba sector.

She was Karu's fiancée, and even if someone present was displeased, they couldn't fault her presence, leaving no room for accusations of impropriety. Thus, every word concerning the Interstellar Federation's progress in the Tuba Galaxy was absorbed by her.

The irony was that not a single person in the Interstellar Federation grasped the depth of her intentions.

Even more laughable was the fact that the Interstellar Federation’s aggressive search operation yielded absolutely nothing.

Iliya felt no urgency; she calmly watched them scramble about like headless flies.

Originally, her plan was simply to latch onto Karu, letting him fight a life-or-death battle against the members of the Fia family she despised, so she could reap the benefits of their mutual destruction.

Unexpectedly, just as she had successfully lured Karu in, this incident occurred. She sat listening to the news, finding it exceedingly convenient.

The cosmos, while chaotic enough, hadn't yet descended into the level of disorder she desired.

In her mind, she began calculating how to stir the current situation into greater turmoil.

After some thought, a brilliant idea suddenly struck Iliya. She rose gracefully, offered Karu an apologetic smile, and excused herself to the restroom.

In the lavatory, she contacted her people with maximum speed. "You—you dispatch some experts immediately to spread the word that something resembling the dreadnought Canghai has been sighted in the Tamo Gan Galaxy. Also, heavily emphasize the individuals who perished in the Tuba Galaxy; it would be best if you could locate their families and incite them to cause a massive disturbance at the Interstellar Federation—the bigger the uproar, the better."

—As soon as people started protesting, the media would undoubtedly seize the headline opportunity. Then, the Interstellar Federation would be too preoccupied dealing with internal chaos to worry about anything else. Heh heh.

Every tragedy that occurred tore open a wound in a certain segment of people's hearts.

As time passed, these wounds would slowly begin to heal.

As long as she could insert herself before the healing completed, her shadow would become entwined with that mended scar. By then, the people standing on her side would number more than just one or two.

Her subordinates received the message and immediately set to work with the utmost haste.

Iliya felt a surge of anticipation.

The saying went: Heroes emerge from chaotic times.

As a hero herself, her first task was to create that chaotic time!

Over twenty legions deployed in the Tuba Galaxy, their formations—a mix of dreadnoughts, destroyers, frigates, salvage vessels, and probe ships—conducting a carpet search.

After several days of exhausting mental effort, not a single clue had surfaced.

It was at this juncture that experts began reporting that something resembling dreadnought wreckage had been discovered in the Tamo Gan Galaxy.

What kind of place was the Tamo Gan Galaxy?

It was one of the most perilous sectors in the entire cosmos, riddled with wormholes, black holes, and spatial anomalies. In that sector, let alone searching for people, one could easily lose their ship and their life in an instant.

The speaking expert presented evidence brought back by a pilot:

A piece of wreckage, roughly a hundred cubic meters in volume, was positively identified as belonging to the Interstellar Federation's "Phoenix Returns" class dreadnought—one of Tang Wen’s signature designs and a standard vessel for the Federation’s rescue teams.

The moment this news broke, it was like dropping a bomb into an already agitated crowd. All legions participating in the rescue efforts promptly converged upon the Tamo Gan Galaxy.

Tamo Gan was an undeveloped sector, choked with asteroids.

Some pilots with inferior skills crashed into asteroids before they could scout even a fraction of the area, becoming new pieces of space debris.

Others, slightly better but still inadequate, managed to avoid the asteroids only to collide accidentally with ships belonging to other legions.

Although the Tamo Gan Galaxy was vast, navigable areas were few. Beacons and navigational markers were long buried beneath asteroid fields. Coupled with the overly dense search fleet, and the Interstellar Federation's arrogant posturing of "Stand aside, let us take charge," smaller legions were forced to navigate carefully, threading the needle between Federation ships, asteroids, and black holes.

Accidents occurred daily.

One day, Legion A inadvertently scraped Legion B, and Legion C encountered Legion D. If they shared good relations, it might have ended there. But some were already enemies who wished nothing more than to skin the other alive; finding such an opportunity, they immediately loaded their weapons and opened fire.

BOOM—

The moment the first shot echoed in Tamo Gan, nothing could stop these frenzied people!

The frustrated space forces hadn't experienced a proper, satisfying engagement on a real battlefield in far too long, and once the fighting started, they couldn't cease. The clashes inevitably spilled over, affecting other nearby search legions, which in turn became enraged and joined the fray.

Consequently, small-scale skirmishes rapidly escalated into larger battles.

What had been a well-intentioned search and rescue operation suddenly twisted into something entirely different.

Even the command vessels from Central Command came under accidental fire.

Central Command’s warning shots were momentarily effective, but the legions were fighting with eyes glazed over, ignoring everything else.

Central Command had deployed only unarmed salvage ships to Tamo Gan. After taking two direct hits, they nearly exploded on the spot. Stas immediately recalled the salvage vessel.

If a war was to be fought, let it conclude decisively.

In truth, everyone understood that this conflict was not incidental.

Smaller legions felt their power had grown and sought to redraw the spatial territories. Larger legions felt the smaller ones were becoming increasingly disobedient and were furiously intent on imposing discipline.

The inevitable result of these accumulated pressures was a massive war, the victor of which would redraw the galactic map.

Furthermore, some legions striving for neutrality found their dispatched rescue ships mysteriously destroyed, filling them with righteous anger, and they too joined the conflict.

Amidst the roaring thunder of artillery, the concepts of 'friendly legions' and 'neutral legions' proved illusory.

Cannon fire and shells were the only truly meaningful commodities.

The Tamo Gan Galaxy soon became littered with the shattered husks of various legions’ ships, along with the corpses of pilots and captains.

No one paid heed to these losses anymore.

They all tacitly understood that war demanded sacrifice. Death was irrelevant; as long as the clone bodies could be activated, the fighting could continue.

In an era where humanity could achieve a form of immortality through cloning, what was there left to fear?

When the war began, Red Hair had just finalized the first batch of strategic weaponry in the Tama Galaxy.

She waved her hand grandly. "Brothers, from this day forward, we go make money with Mother!"

Nine Hands was perplexed. "Where is the money to be made?"

Red Hair glanced coldly at the Tamo Gan Galaxy on the star chart. "War profits!"

Nine Hands' eyes immediately lit up. "Tycoon, take me along!"

Red Hair shot him a sidelong glance. "I’m not taking you."

Nine Hands pleaded, "Sister Hong, please just take your little brother along!"

Red Hair countered, "You have a more suitable task awaiting you."

Nine Hands held Red Hair in absolute reverence, bowing and scraping. "Tell me what to do, Sister. If you command it, this humble servant will climb mountains of knives and plunge into seas of fire without a second thought."

Red Hair rolled her eyes at him. "Speak plainly."

Nine Hands bowed so low his head nearly touched the floor. "Sister Hong, I need to get rich! Hurry and show me the path to fortune!"

Red Hair instructed, "Take fifty billion credits, charter a few super cargo ships, and transport munitions to the space station near Tamo Gan to sell them."

Nine Hands suddenly understood. "Sister Hong, you are brilliant!"

Ammunition wasn't inherently expensive—some rounds cost only a few hundred or a few thousand credits, the priciest rarely exceeding ten thousand. However, once the fighting erupted, a few hundred or a few thousand rounds would be wholly insufficient.

Resupply would be essential at the nearest stations.

If one could corner this ammunition trade, fortune was practically guaranteed.

Nine Hands saw shimmering strings of zeros floating before his eyes, his eyes turning green with avarice.

Red Hair scoffed at him and then departed with her crew, heading toward the Tamo Gan Galaxy in grand style.

Where were they going?

Simple: to salvage wreckage.

Where there was war, there was ship loss and death.

Many early-era vessels weren't specifically built for combat; they contained unexpected valuable components, or salvageable critical parts that could be taken back for Ziye to research.

Of course, wreckage itself was highly valuable.

In space, one of the best ways to start from scratch was salvaging debris.

As long as one possessed a salvage vessel and was willing to put in the effort, one could always secure a substantial first fortune.

Admittedly, salvaging carried certain risks.

There was the constant threat of being hit by stray fire, or being targeted by a combatant legion demanding the wreckage.

This danger was why many were hesitant to pursue this particular path to wealth.

Red Hair, accustomed to 'no-cost' ventures and possessing unparalleled piloting skills, readily embraced this opportunity.

On the very day the fighting commenced, Red Hair led her subordinates to hide within Tamo Gan's asteroid belt, secretly salvaging debris.

After all, their ships were loaded with Super Tractor Beams modified by Ziye.

Standard tractor beams had an effective range of only 5,000 kilometers; Ziye’s modifications pushed that out to 20 kilometers, instantly outclassing every other salvage vessel.

Red Hair secured a well-hidden asteroid cluster and quietly messaged Old Dog: "Regardless of what happens this time, our legion must not participate in the fighting. Wait until they have fought themselves out, and then we reap the final reward."

Old Dog replied, "Understood. Big Head and Black Beard are preparing to make some war profits; they don't have time for us to manage our own activities right now."

Upon hearing this, Red Hair couldn't help but smile faintly.

As expected of old foxes bred in the Silver Talisman system, they were thinking along the same lines.

To avoid conflicting business interests among their own people, she stated, "I’m handling the salvage business, and I’ve also arranged for someone to run an ammunition business. Let’s try not to compete directly."

Old Dog responded, "That’s easy to manage. Old Black is knowledgeable about ships and is preparing to sell vessels."

Red Hair smiled charmingly, then a thought struck her. "The Dreadnoughts Little Brat designed—we have twenty of those, which is enough. The rest can be sold off. Also, ask her to speed up the assembly line production, and preferably rent another production line to manufacture Raiders or Dreadnoughts; those two types will definitely sell well in the next couple of years."

Old Dog agreed, "I’ll discuss it with her. Separately, I’ll recall the soldiers we had training under the Silver Talisman back to the legion. We won't provoke others, but we must be prepared in case others provoke us."

Once their conversation concluded, Red Hair felt relieved and focused wholeheartedly on salvaging debris.

The cumbersome salvage ships moved under her control with a grace superior to mechs, harvesting wreckage like a beautiful dance.

The Wolf's Den, up to this point, could not have achieved rapid ascent through sheer corporate endeavors.

Who knew that war would arrive just in time? This was the optimal opportunity for the Wolf's Den to expand its power!

-RS