The warehouse is at least a thousand square meters, with stalls arranged in an orderly manner. Some stalls have a cloth spread out on the ground with a few items casually tossed on it; others have small tables with neatly organized items; some have floating machines emitting blinking lights, cluttered with various goods. The Stalls are as diverse as their owners. Some vendors sit silently, seemingly indifferent to whether their items sell or not, while others shout loudly, as if they want their voices to reach the entire market.
The items on display are dazzlingly varied, covering all aspects of daily life. There are brand-new next-generation gaming consoles, preloaded with over a hundred games, priced at just two thousand star coins—definitely a bargain. There are aquatic products from distant remote planets, though the fish in the water tank have started to go belly-up, and continuous oxygenation is futile. There are ceramic nesting dolls that have been cherished through many generations, telling the story of a family’s rise and fall.
Of course, the market is not lacking in items related to Emperor Qin Feng Anderson. Some are obviously fake, some are difficult to distinguish as real or fake, and some might be, perhaps, possibly genuine.
Who cares about a chair he once sat on, a cup they used, or an empty shell they fired? Claiming these items are related to the Emperor is absurd. Even if the Emperor were alive, he couldn’t explain them.
The feelings of the Empire’s people towards Qin Feng Anderson are complex. Some revere him as a deity, while others view him as a ruthless tyrant. Regardless of which view they hold, they show a great interest in anything associated with the Emperor. Hence, items related to him are the most sought-after at various markets.
For the first time, Auston showed a sense of urgency as he pushed into the crowd, and Ryan, stunned for a moment, quickly followed. This drew some complaints from the onlookers, but with everyone jostling, no one could really say anything.
“Everyone, don’t push! I’ve got three volumes of the Emperor’s diary here, absolutely guaranteed to be genuine. You can have them authenticated by a specialized institution. If they’re fake, I’ll be hit by a starship on my way out!” The vendor swore, trying to make his diaries seem authentic. “According to the usual rules of the ghost market, each page of the diary is four hundred star coins. I’m offering this thirty-page book at a discount, just ten thousand star coins. Feel free to look, feel free to authenticate, but be careful with it—these are over seven hundred years old, and it’s not easy to have preserved them to this day.”
The crowd shifted, and surprisingly, no one questioned the authenticity.
Ryan stared wide-eyed at the diary on the long table. It had a dark purple cover with natural leather patterns. The cover was large, but the pages inside were few—perhaps lost to time. The idea that such a fragmented diary could sell for ten thousand star coins was astounding. For comparison, the bounty on the interstellar human trafficker “Musician” Evan was only five thousand star coins!
Ten thousand star coins could cover the expenses for an ordinary three-person household for half a year.
Ryan suddenly felt he had stumbled upon a brand new way to make money…
He was somewhat skeptical—would anyone actually buy it at such a high price?
As it turned out, not only were there buyers, but there were quite a few. Among the onlookers, someone stepped forward. When he took his hands out of his cloak, he was wearing a clean pair of white gloves. He spoke in a deliberately hushed tone, “I’d like to take a look.”
“Please.” The vendor believed that genuine value would withstand scrutiny, so he allowed the examination but kept a safeguard in place. “We only have five pages available for review now. The rest will be given after the transaction is complete. Payment must be made in full before the rest is handed over; no delays.”
People were buying the diary mainly for its contents. The Emperor’s sudden thoughts might reveal business opportunities; a few lines of reflection might become historical references; sometimes, it might even disclose minor details that uncover historical truths.
While there were collectors who prized the paper itself, they were certainly fewer compared to those interested in the content. If the contents were fully revealed, the vendor would have nothing left to sell.
The person who requested to view the diary nodded, though his face was obscured by the cloak. He was clearly an expert, and after carefully examining the diary with white gloves for a while, he finally said, “I’ll buy it.”
Ryan：“……” As a bystander, he couldn’t have been in a worse position.
The vendor clapped his hands with glee, “Haha, my items are definitely genuine. Is there anyone else who wants to see or buy? If not, you’ll miss out on the Emperor’s diary. Genuine diaries that have ended up in private hands are rare. If you miss this chance, you might not get another one.”
Upon hearing this, a few more people stepped forward and examined the diary one by one. Two of them expressed interest in purchasing it. According to the rules of the market, if more than one person is interested in the same item, a small auction can be organized by the market’s administrators. This isn’t free; a 2% commission of the final sale price must be paid.
“Anyone else?” The vendor’s tone was upbeat, clearly pleased with the outcome. With bids, the final price would surely exceed ten thousand star coins. Even if he had to pay out 2%, he’d still make a profit. The more people bidding, the higher the price would go. The vendor’s head bobbed as if his eyes were gleaming from beneath his cloak. With a hint of regret that was actually meant to drive consumption, he added, “If no one else wants to participate in the bidding, I’ll call the administrator over.”
“Wait a moment.” It was Auston’s voice.
The vendor asked, “Sir, are you interested in participating in the bidding?”
Auston’s voice was disguised to sound deeper and more gravelly, but Ryan could easily recognize it. “I want to have a look first.”
The vendor responded, “Sure, sure, take your time, sir.”
Auston stepped forward, and Ryan casually adjusted his position, subtly shifting closer until he was three steps behind Auston—this was the closest distance the vendor allowed. Knowing how to keep their relationship discreet in the black market was a crucial skill. Auston flipped through the diary; the five pages were quickly scanned. He closed the book, not immediately revealing whether he would participate in the auction or not.
The vendor was somewhat anxious, though he masked it well. “What do you think, sir?”
“Let me have a look as well.” Ryan made his voice sound light and somewhat careless, like a university student new to the scene and still fresh from his sheltered life.
The vendor’s smile widened. “Welcome, welcome.” The more people attracted, the more advantageous it was for him, regardless of where they came from.
Ryan brushed past Auston and stood in front of the table. He opened the cover of the diary, revealing slightly disheveled handwriting that seemed hastily written.
—According to forward observations, the Zerg race has a new emperor, and internal strife is quelled. A large-scale invasion is imminent. However, I’ve hit a bottleneck in my mecha research. How can I increase the synchronization between the mecha and its pilot? Sigh, it’s troubling. I feel like I’ve lost so much hair. Am I really getting old… Qin Hao even has a grandson now. He’s a very cute little guy. Our generation is aging, and the world will belong to them in the future.
—Qin Hao mentioned some unusual movements. I had anticipated this. If someone takes my cake, I wouldn’t be pleased either. I keep thinking about getting it back. If it weren’t for the pressing war with the Zergs, and if I weren’t about to head to the battlefield, I wouldn’t tolerate their actions. Sigh, I don’t want to move anymore. I wish to retire to a planting star, perhaps formally adopt a child this time. I must teach him well, so he doesn’t turn out stubborn like Antonio.
—Haha, what a terrible day. I’ve been opposed again. They deliberately let me see that I should hand over the presidency. It’s not like I wanted this position. Whoever wants it, take it.
—The new Zerg emperor is a radical, actually splitting forces to nibble away at my empire’s borders. Insects reproduce, but human birth rates are declining year after year. Denise has already told me about the seriousness of the situation, and we continue to encourage the public to have more children. But… sigh, is going down the path of genetic adaptation really good for humanity?
Ryan turned the page, only to find that the rest was blank white paper added by the seller to make the diary appear thicker. The remaining content would only be revealed upon closer examination. Under his cloak, Ryan closed his eyes and sighed silently, the passage of time having blurred his memory.
“Sir, have you made a decision?” The seller urged impatiently.
Ryan chuckled, maintaining his casual, somewhat reckless tone. “Just a poor student here, merely looking to expand my knowledge.”
Seller: “…”
Onlookers: “…” Yes, you can look even if you don’t buy. Who cares if it’s real or fake, knowing the content first is what matters.
Encouraged by Ryan, more and more people expressed a desire to examine the diary up close. This frustrated the seller greatly, but since he had promised to let people view it, he couldn’t go back on his word, and now his other two books might not sell.
Among the many cloaked figures, with no apparent difference in height or appearance at a glance, Ryan skillfully made his way to Auston’s side. Similarly, through subtle observations, Auston recognized that Ryan had found his way to him.
Ryan whispered, “The content is real, but the diary itself is fake. It’s very well-made, obviously by an expert, but there’s no need to buy it.” If you want, I could write one for you!
The diary was meticulously forged, using paper from seven hundred years ago, ink from seven hundred years ago, and presumably a pen from the same era. Though the handwriting closely mimicked the original, it missed the essence. The essence is that the original observer could immediately tell it was fake.
Auston felt a bit disappointed but was not fixated on obtaining the diary. To him, without the Emperor’s own handwriting, it lacked much of its profound significance. “Well, let’s wait for the second book and see its contents before deciding.”
Ryan: “Don’t you wonder how I can be so certain?”
Auston chuckled lightly. Though his face was concealed by his cloak, his trust was evident. “You’ve mentioned you have secrets. I believe that when the time is right, you’ll tell me.”
Ryan felt a stirring in his heart, the urge to reveal his background nearly overwhelming him. But in the end, emotion gave way to reason. He feared that revealing too much could trigger a series of unintended consequences. It’s better to wait, just as Auston suggested, for the right moment. When will that moment come? Perhaps in a few months, maybe years, or perhaps it will never arrive in this lifetime.
The authenticity of the content makes the diary valuable, Ryan thought to himself, though with a hint of frustration.
The number of bidders was soon confirmed—five in total. The auctioneer, who had been waiting at the side, struck a brass gong with a red-silk-tied stick (some ancient Earth artifacts, like this gong, still existed even after a millennium). The auction began, with each bid increasing by one thousand star coins, or bidders could directly state their desired bid.
“Eleven thousand.”
“Twelve thousand.”
“…”
“…”
“Eighteen thousand.”
“Twenty thousand.”
“Ugh.” Ryan winced, feeling as though the money in his pocket was flying into someone else’s.
In the end, the thirty-page diary of the Emperor sold for twenty-two thousand star coins. The winning bidder was the last person to participate in the auction. The first person who had shown interest in buying stopped bidding once the price reached twenty-two thousand. As the victorious bidder triumphantly took the diary and vanished into the crowd, the initial bidder quietly disappeared as well.
“This is a setup!”
With the subsequent two diaries—one with 35 pages and the other with 26 pages—each selling for no less than 20,000 star coins, Ryan had become numb. He even considered immediately purchasing a few old books, hiding in a dark corner to quickly scribble down some notes, ensuring their authenticity. The price didn’t need to be high; half an Evan per book would be fine, guaranteeing thirty pages each.
The opportunity to make money was right before him, yet he couldn’t seize it.
Ryan felt as though he had missed out on a billion star coins.
The vendor had only three diaries on hand. Once sold, he would pack up and leave. All that money had to be settled with the ghost market administrators. To ensure privacy, payments are made to a unified account managed by the ghost market (a platform intermediary). The seller then receives their share after the transaction, with the third party taking a 1% commission. With the ghost market backed by powerful figures and a twenty-year track record of no fraud, it had earned the mutual trust of both buyers and sellers.
Ryan scanned his wrist over a cube-sized box, and his personal terminal displayed the payment confirmation screen. After he confirmed, the vendor happily placed seventeen or eighteen palm-sized ceramic cats into the box. Seeing such a big spender, the vendor cheerfully added a small elephant with big ears as a complimentary gift. A gentle female voice said, “Thank you for your purchase. I make many small animal-themed ceramic ornaments every month and sell them at the ghost market. If you need more, you can always find me here at this location.”
Ryan took the box, which was quite heavy, and said, “If I need anything else, I’ll definitely come back. By the way, could you let me know where I can rent a moving robot?” He didn’t want to carry all these items around; it was too much hassle.
“The moving robots are rented at the entrance, but it’s too far to walk. You can use this one,” said the vendor, clearly a kind-hearted young woman. She handed him a floating robot, similar to a hoverboard, which could carry quite a bit. “Just return it when you’re done.”
“I’ll pay you for the rental,” Ryan offered.
The vendor waved her hand, “No need, it’s just a few star coins, really inexpensive.”
Ryan wasn’t someone who took advantage of small favors; he saw such generosity as his own good fortune rather than something to be taken for granted. After a moment of thought, he asked, “Do you accept custom orders?”
“What kind of custom piece do you need, sir?”
Ryan smiled, “A white griffin.”
“A griffin?” Many people who had never left their home planet might not know what a griffin looked like.
“Yes. I see you have the tools here; you should be able to make it on the spot. Could you create a small white lion with wings? Take out your sketchbook, and I’ll describe it to you.”
“Alright.” The vendor picked up the sketchbook, and under Ryan’s description, a charming little lion began to take shape on her page.
Far away on Shakespeare, but “mentally” following Ryan and Auston, Yuan Chu and Code Zero silently observed the scene, and the system’s programs were noticeably unsettled.
Code Zero: “I think I’m starting to understand what jealousy feels like. I also want a ceramic figurine that looks like me.”
Yuan Chu: “I searched, and there are many action figures modeled after you on Star Net, even official ones. If you want, I can order one for you.”
As a mecha of general in the Empire, Code Zero is quite well-known nationally, and action figures based on him are the best sellers among official mecha merchandise.
Code Zero: “Hmm, I also searched. Why do all the comments seem strange? They hope that when they open the action figure, a general will pop out.”
Yuan Chu: “That’s the complexity of humans. Many buy figures of you not for you, but for the general. They’re fans of the general, hoping to get something related to him.”
Code Zero: “But the general belongs to Ryan. They are a couple.”
Yuan Chu’s eyes flickered for a moment. “You’re right.”
Code Zero: “Are you happy?”
Yuan Chu: “Because my family’s mister is no longer single. It’s a feeling you wouldn’t understand.”
Code Zero: “Oh, alright.”
Not far behind them, Da Fu had been observing the large and small metal figures for quite some time, its amber eyes filled with curiosity. Unable to contain its curiosity any longer, it slowly approached, its soft pads making no sound on the ground. By the time Yuan Chu noticed, a small white creature had already crouched beside him, its watery amber eyes staring intently.
Yuan Chu swore on his mechanical heart that he sensed a hint of danger, using his robot’s sixth sense. Don’t ask him how a robot has a sixth sense—it’s because he is a growing AI.
“Woof~” Da Fu made a soft sound.
Yuan Chu instinctively recoiled, but couldn’t escape.
Da Fu snuggled up to the Yuan Chu, rubbing its neck. It suddenly realized that the Yuan Chu, which it had always feared, wasn’t actually frightening at all and that rubbing against it was quite pleasant.
Ryan had no idea that on Shakespeare, his other little members were already getting along harmoniously. Otherwise, he would certainly shed tears as a proud father. In the future, taking care of Da Fu could be entirely left to Yuan Chu. After Ryan customized the Da Fu figurine, he left and returned ninety minutes later to pick up a freshly made “Da Fu” that was about the size of two palms. He had his eye on a ceramic figurine, while Auston was very interested in a collection of cold weapons, which were said to have come from Earth’s home planet. These weapons were brought out before the Empire government started focusing on protecting Earth’s home planet. One of the knives, despite being thousands of years old, still had a sharp blade; only the crocodile-skin sheath was ruined, indicating the steel used was of excellent quality.
As long as a master bladesmith could be found, restoring the long knife to its former glory wouldn’t be difficult.
When Ryan turned around to look for someone, Auston was still there, deeply discussing the cold weapons with the seller. He had already bought the long knife, along with a black iron dagger. The dagger was made by modern craftsmen using low-temperature smelting methods and was very similar to the one Ryan had before.
As soon as he saw it, Ryan knew the dagger was bought for him.
He didn’t rush; instead, he quietly stood to the side and waited. During the waiting period, he looked around to see if there was anything of interest, and then he spotted a pile of mecha parts. There was a sign on the stall that read: “Century-old parts, fixed price 200 star coins, no haggling or bargaining.”
The old parts, weathered by time, had dull metal and aging circuits and were no longer usable. Their only value was as references for professionals in related fields. At 200 star coins each, the parts were neither cheap nor expensive. Ryan’s gaze fell on a 20-centimeter-long diode. Judging by the extent of the weathering and rust on the diode, it had at least 400 to 500 years of history.
After informing Auston where he was going, Ryan approached the stall. Squatting down, he picked up the diode he was interested in and examined it closely. From the craftsmanship, he could confirm that the diode was indeed very old. It was a rough product, created as a sample after a burst of inspiration.
Ryan traced his fingers along the edge of the diode. The texture under his fingers was coarse, having long lost the smoothness it had when it was first made.
Old friend, it seems we meet again in this way.
Ryan had a look of nostalgic daze on his face. When he snapped out of his momentary trance, he smiled, shook his head, said nothing, and paid for the diode.
The operation of mechas requires a massive amount of energy. Every attack, every use of a weapon, involves an explosion of energy that generates heat capable of burning human skin. Often, a mecha might go into standby mode after just a few movements due to excessive localized heat. Using it forcefully can even be dangerous, risking an explosion.
To address this issue, anyone who learns to manufacture and repair mechas knows that Qin Feng Anderson came up with the idea of energy transfer, leading to the creation of diodes. By installing numerous diodes on a mecha, these diodes absorb excess heat and melt themselves when the temperature spikes. Once the diodes on the mecha reach a certain threshold and have melted to a critical point, they must be replaced promptly.
As a result, a crucial course in mecha engineering is learning to make and assemble diodes. When Ryan participated in the mecha engineering department’s assessment, his exceptional speed earned him the qualification to join the formal team ahead of others.
After purchasing the diode, Auston had also finished his discussion, so they wandered around a bit longer before returning to the ceramic figurine stall to pick up the still-warm ceramic Da Fu.
As planned, they went to a couple’s restaurant for dinner, but Ryan had canceled the music and flower delivery segment. Instead, he personally gave Auston a bouquet of roses and received the gift Auston had chosen for him—the black iron dagger.
Back in their room on the A16 ship, everything seemed normal. Ryan keenly sensed that Da Fu and the Yuan Chu had grown much closer; it seemed that leaving them alone for a while had been very beneficial.
After a long day, Ryan suggested that Auston take a bath to relax. He himself sat in the living room, turning the diode in his long fingers. His eyes flashed with various thoughts before settling into silence. Ryan took out his tool kit, retrieved a Phillips screwdriver, and began disassembling the aged diode. It didn’t take long for him to open it up, revealing the wear and tear of time.
Yuan Chu silently watched its master’s actions.
Finally, the diode was opened, revealing a device inside that didn’t belong to the diode—a recording device.
Ryan touched the recording device with the Phillips screwdriver and accidentally activated the switch. A tearing sound came from it, and to his surprise, after more than 700 years, it still worked.
Muffled voices emerged from the device.
“What should we do? I was caught by Tyrell while getting the medicine.”
After 700 years, long-buried secrets are on the verge of being uncovered!!! Stay tuned!!😉
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152