Chapter 438 – Cutting Off the Water at the Source! A Done Deal! Entrustment!
After hearing Li Ang's further explanation, the executives finally understood what Palpatine meant, while Palpatine looked at Li Ang as if he had found a kindred spirit.
The feeling of having someone grasp his line of thought was exquisite. No wonder Li Ang could sit in the position of corporate governor.
After laying out the plan for the next steps, Morgan Blackhand immediately relayed the message to Paul, instructing him to explain the Universal MegaMegacorp's stance to the Emperor.
Soon, Paul returned once again to the Emperor's palace, carrying his mission, and tactfully conveyed the Megacorp's wish—that the Emperor join the Universal MegaMegacorp, even if only in a symbolic, honorary capacity.
However, for a supreme ruler like the Emperor, even symbolic acts carried political weight. Everyone would speculate on and interpret his every move.
At this moment, to join the Universal MegaMegacorp's camp would be tantamount to telling the Empire's citizens, in a roundabout way, that from this day on, the Megacorp would take over everything—including the Emperor himself.
Both Paul and the Emperor fell silent, each contemplating how to proceed with the conversation.
Frankly, Paul had not expected headquarters to come up with such a move—cutting off the water at the source—by going directly for the Emperor himself.
It was risky, but the impact would be enormous.
The Emperor, of course, was no fool. He could clearly see the Megacorp's true intentions. Yet he had to admit—their request was quite reasonable.
It was just an invitation to visit the Megacorp's capital, Ideal City, for a period of time, while taking on an honorary position to offer simple guidance to other departments. That sounded… perfectly normal, right?
What a formidable opponent…
For the first time, the Emperor found himself dealing with someone this troublesome. If he fell into their trap, the Megacorp wouldn't even need to wait until it led the Imperium into a golden age—they could take over everything with ease.
His empire, his life's work, taken away without a fight—that was something the Emperor was reluctant to accept.
Paul, meanwhile, was growing anxious. The Emperor had been silent for almost half an hour, and the atmosphere in the grand hall had turned unbearably awkward.
From the Emperor's expression, it was clear he was weighing the pros and cons, searching for a better way to maneuver.
But after a long pause, the Emperor could only sigh and shake his head, as if accepting the Megacorp's request. After thinking it through, he had found no better solution.
"I had expected you to ask for something of tangible value. It seems I underestimated you," the Emperor finally said, breaking the awkward, heavy silence.
"No one could ignore your talent and ability," Paul replied with flattery. "More than the Empire's armies, resources, or even golden age relics, we value you yourself."
Paul then fell silent again, looking expectantly at the Emperor, waiting for his answer—would he accept the invitation or not?
After all, the Emperor was the founder of the Imperium of Man, commanding legions and ruling over billions. His psychic and physical might put him on par with the four Chaos Gods of the Warp.
For someone standing at the pinnacle of both power and authority, to serve the Megacorp, to stand in its camp, was not a realistic proposition.
That was why they needed to "pressure" him—force him to choose between humanity and himself. The Megacorp would only accept the lower price.
"I can agree to your request," the Emperor finally said after careful thought.
He was not ungrateful—he would not gamble the fate of the Imperium on testing the Megacorp's patience.
Since they were unwilling to buy at a high price, then he would let it go cheaply. Better that than have it collapse in his own hands.
Hearing this, Paul kept his face neutral, but inwardly let out a breath of relief. The matter was settled.
"I'll need to arrange people to handle the Empire's affairs. Then I'll visit Ideal City for a time. During that period, you may engage in deeper 'cooperation' with the Empire," the Emperor said.
This was as good as giving tacit approval for the Megacorp to use his visit as political capital. He would turn a blind eye.
"Of course. We will grant you an esteemed executive position and show you our top-secret engineering projects. You will see just how wise your decision today truly is," Paul said with barely contained excitement.
This was how a "done deal" was made—both sides pushing and yielding until the timing was just right.
Once you had that first step, future moves would be smooth and easy.
The title deed to the Imperium of Man was, for all intents and purposes, in the Megacorp's hands now.
"Let's hope so," the Emperor said with some doubt. Whether the Megacorp was truly worthy of full trust still had to be proven in practice.
"I'll have Malcador draft an Imperial edict as soon as possible, granting your people full control of the new warp-route project and transferring governance over certain departments to them."
He paused, then added pointedly, "Your authority is limited to the new routes. Nothing else. Remember to know when to stop."
The Emperor knew full well that once the Megacorp had full control of the new warp-route system, nearly all Imperial departments would be under their influence.
What he really wanted to say was simple—know when to stop.
Don't smash everyone else's rice bowls at once. His Primarch sons and the Imperial nobility were not so easy to placate. If this sparked a full-blown rebellion, even the Emperor might not be able to contain it.
"Yes," Paul nodded. Corporate reforms—bringing in the new and ousting the old, splitting the pie—were things the Universal MegaMegacorp had already mastered. They hardly needed the Emperor's reminder.
What the Emperor truly needed to think about was how to cash out with maximum benefit, then, in the new era the Megacorp would usher in, enjoy a life he had never dreamed of.
Under the Megacorp's protection, after all, everyone could have their place.
"I'll return to headquarters to report immediately," Paul said, bowing slightly. "On behalf of the Universal MegaMegacorp, we eagerly await your arrival. In Ideal City, I believe you will see the bright future of the Imperium!"
Whether that was a promise or just painting a pretty picture, the words stirred the Emperor's longing.
A bright future… He had waited far too long for it.
Not long after Paul left the hall, Malcador—summoned by the Emperor—arrived at the palace.
As the Emperor's long-time right-hand man and most trusted minister, Malcador could always guess with precision whether the news awaiting him was good… or bad.
This time, from the Emperor's summons and expression, Malcador saw a mixture of doubt and expectation.
It left him unsure of the situation.
"Your Majesty, did the envoy from the great Megacorp bring bad news?"
Malcador asked the Emperor directly.
Like the Emperor, he was a powerful psyker—though not nearly as strong—but he could still glean glimpses of the future from the echoes of the Warp.
On his way to the Imperial Palace, Malcador had foreseen both the outbreak of war and the image of a flourishing golden age, which left him deeply perplexed.
The Emperor, as calm as ever, looked at Malcador and told him everything about his visit to the Universal Megacorp and his decision to let the Megacorp take over the new navigation system.
As the Emperor expected, when Malcador heard this, his face showed shock and alarm. He cried out that it was absolutely impossible, then fell to his knees, pleading for the Emperor to retract the order.
The Emperor was the keystone of the Imperium of Man. Leaving not just the galaxy but even Terra itself would be an extraordinary political upheaval!
A ruler must always remain at the heart of his power, or risk being toppled in an instant—countless eyes coveted the supreme throne.
In the face of absolute interests, no one could resist temptation.
The throne room once again fell into an eerie silence, the atmosphere thick with tension and awkwardness.
Malcador's entire body was taut, his bloodshot eyes wide from Infinity political work. There were many ministers like him who toiled themselves to exhaustion for the Imperium.
If the Emperor abandoned Terra, what would become of them?
"We've been together for so many years. I trust your ability. While I visit the City of Ideals, you will watch over the Imperium in my stead."
But before the Emperor could finish, Malcador cut him off bluntly.
"Your Majesty, is it true you intend to hand the entire Imperium over to the Universal Megacorp?!"
A seasoned veteran of Imperial politics, Malcador instantly saw the implications—of course he understood.
What he could not fathom was why the Emperor would choose this moment to leave the Imperium. Was this somehow because of Magnus's betrayal?
But from what Malcador knew of the Emperor, even if every Primarch betrayed him, He would never abandon the Imperium of Man. There had to be some deeper reason.
The Emperor did not answer, merely gazing at him in silence, as if pressuring him to accept the order.
Malcador countered by bowing even lower.
"Your Majesty, with my shallow wisdom and limited ability, I am unfit to shoulder the responsibility of guarding the Imperium. Please, rescind this command!"
In truth, with his political acumen and administrative skill, he could well replace the Emperor as the ruler of the Imperium.
But his position and the political landscape would not allow it.
First, Malcador was not the Emperor's offspring and had no hereditary claim to Imperial rule. A chancellor is always a chancellor—never an Emperor, never fit for the throne.
Second, he had no faction of his own. In fact, he had made enemies among several Primarchs and nobles. As the Emperor's "black glove," Malcador had offended many in carrying out the Emperor's less palatable orders.
There was no avoiding it—when something needed doing that the Emperor could not be seen doing himself, Malcador did it. Over the years, the "dirty work" had earned him countless enemies.
So long as the Emperor remained, this was tolerable. But should the Emperor leave Terra or vanish suddenly, the first to be purged would be the Chancellor who held the Imperial Seal.
Malcador was certain—if the Emperor left Terra, he would surely die, and the Chaos Gods and Warp-spawned daemons would once again run rampant.
"Your Majesty, you must not leave the Imperium. If you are determined to go, then take me with you—where you are, I will be."
Of course, Malcador could not voice his true fears, so he framed his plea in terms of the greater good, urging the Emperor to remain.
And the Emperor, well aware of Malcador's concerns, reassured him:
"Rest easy. I will arrange for others to stand at your side, including some of the Primarchs.
"You are my only trusted confidant. The others either lack ability or cannot be trusted. You alone are the best choice."
Did the Emperor not know Malcador's political talents?
He believed that even in His absence, Malcador could manage the Imperium just fine—at least for a while, without major problems.
The Emperor knew this might be unfair to Malcador, but He had no choice.
During His visit to the corporate capital, someone had to take the helm. Other than Malcador, that left only the Primarchs.
But those sons of His only knew how to wage war—they had no skill at governing, politically witless to the point of idiocy.
Even Guilliman—arguably the most level-headed of them—was still, in the Emperor's eyes, not Malcador's equal in governance.
As long as Malcador remained in place, the Imperial administrative system would keep running, avoiding major upheaval.
And if the Chaos Gods and daemons truly did invade, well—there was always the Megacorp's military to call upon.
As for any discontent among the Primarchs…
They would simply have to swallow it.
If anyone dared cause trouble in His absence, there would be swift and merciless retribution afterward.
"No, I will not stay. Your Majesty, stop trying to reassure me—I will leave with you, no matter what."
Malcador still resisted with all his strength.
If the Emperor kept pressing the issue, Malcador might be forced to retire entirely. He knew better than anyone how dangerous it was to remain at the very heart of Imperial power.
Seeing Malcador so resolute, the Emperor was left with no choice but to tell him the real reason for leaving the Imperium to visit the Megacorp's capital.
The construction of the new navigation system was only the surface excuse. Behind it lay a sweeping institutional reform—purging corruption within Imperial institutions, and even reining in the Primarchs themselves. That was the real bombshell.
Visiting the Megacorp and accepting a nominal post there was simply a political gesture—a signal for the astute to pick up on.
Hearing this, Malcador was dumbfounded. The current political system of the Imperium might be outdated, but it was still functional.
Why take such unnecessary measures? Why smash so many rice bowls at once, threatening the interests of nobles—and even allies? Was this truly necessary?
The risk was enormous. It might cause even greater upheaval than a direct invasion by the Chaos Gods and daemons.
Could the Imperium of Man really withstand such turmoil?
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