Chapter 703: Changes and Reflections

**Chapter 703: Changes and Reflections**

With the surrendered planetary governor Luli’s assistance, the conquest of the remaining Tentacle Tree colonial planets proceeded at a speed that even Jie Ming found slightly surprising. In his capacity as “Former Vice Chief Executive of the Prime Mother Star Governor’s Mansion,” Luli personally issued a surrender notice through the civilization-wide emergency broadcast channel. While recording the video, his tentacles trembled slightly and the panic in his crystalline eyes had not fully faded, yet the words he spoke were exceptionally clear-headed.

“Our original social structure has completely collapsed in the war. Continuing to resist serves no purpose. The other side has promised to preserve our race and civilization.”

This broadcast was like a massive stone thrown into a dead lake, rapidly spreading through layer after layer of the Tentacle Tree Civilization’s administrative network.

Combined with the physical presence of the advancing Black Giant legions, the results appeared immediately.

Aside from a few planets still stubbornly resisting under the control of the various governors’ private armies, the vast majority of colonial worlds lowered their orbital defense platforms the moment they received the notice.

On some planets, the Black Giants had not even properly landed—they merely showed themselves in orbit—and the governor’s mansion on the surface had already sent surrender signals first.

The collapse of order was faster than Jie Ming had anticipated.

Yet the cost of that collapse was far lower than his original estimates.

According to the Wizard Civilization’s standard models, when a Level 6 technological civilization suffered a full-scale invasion, population loss usually fell between fifteen and thirty percent.

Only a portion died in actual combat; far more perished from secondary disasters after social order broke down—famine, riots, transportation paralysis, medical supply cutoffs, administrative failure…

However, the Tentacle Tree Civilization’s actual loss rate was less than five percent, and the vast majority of the dead had perished in battle.

This was largely due to how efficient Jie Ming’s occupation process was.

After the Black Giants descended, they directly took over the administrative systems. Panic had no time to ferment before the new order began operating.

By the time the populace truly realized their planet had changed hands, the tone of the street broadcasts had already shifted.

After assisting with the surrender arrangements for the first batch of colonial planets, Luli could no longer hold back. Through a Black Giant Priest, he requested to meet Jie Ming on the command platform to ask some questions in person.

Jie Ming agreed.

When Luli stepped out of the teleportation array, he happened to see batches of artificial humans being transferred out of the automated factories on the Infernal Sulfur Plane, then distributed via teleportation arrays to the newly surrendered colonial planets.

These were not crude mechanical puppets, but “governance artificial humans” that Jie Ming had specifically ordered from the Star Ring Federation using military merits.

Of course, since they were designed to simulate the biology of the occupied civilization, they should now be called “artificial trees.”

Their appearance perfectly imitated the Tentacle Trees, while internally they carried complete modules for administrative management, educational planning, resource allocation, and legal adjudication.

Upon occupying each planet, they would directly replace the existing mid-to-high-level administrative positions.

From governors to education directors to urban infrastructure supervisors—entire departments were replaced.

That said, not all mid-level officials of the Tentacle Tree Civilization were purged. The artificial trees would quickly screen them.

Those with adequate professional skills were retained to continue cooperating with the new administrative system. Those lacking ability but with acceptable attitudes were demoted and kept on. Those guilty of corruption, dereliction of duty, or resisting the new regime were directly removed.

Resistance naturally existed, especially from the core loyalists of governors who had lost their private armies and privileges—their opposition was particularly fierce.

However, mid-to-high-level officials made up an extremely small proportion of the total population. Under absolute military control, their resistance could not stir up any waves.

For the vast majority of ordinary Tentacle Tree civilians, the planet’s invasion did not bring overly drastic immediate changes. At most, the morning news headlines changed, and by afternoon school resumed as usual.

Luli stood at the edge of the platform, staring blankly as batch after batch of artificial trees vanished into the teleportation arrays.

His tentacles unconsciously curled and unfurled at his sides, repeating the motion.

Only at this moment did he truly understand that Jie Ming’s so-called “preservation of civilization and race” was not as simple as a ceasefire agreement, nor was it merely turning them into a vassal state.

The other party was genuinely rebuilding—and rebuilding a civilization structure that had already rotted to its roots.

Jie Ming, however, had no time to concern himself with an old tree’s shock.

What he was truly focused on right now was something else.

A test tube.

More precisely, the quartz test tube he had once animated with a temporary enlightenment spell. He now held it casually in one palm.

This was the most “disobedient” one from the laboratory earlier.

Not only had it refused to be cleaned by the washer, but after being taken away by the Black Giant Priest, it had hammered the priest’s tiger’s mouth all the way. Its strength was negligible, yet its attitude was extremely arrogant. And right now, it was still hammering.

The test tube’s hair-thin little arms were striking Jie Ming’s tiger’s mouth at extremely high frequency—fast and dense, as if expressing firm protest. After hammering for a while with no effect, it began kicking.

Its two tiny quartz legs flailed wildly in the air, desperately trying to break free from his grasp.

After kicking for a long time without moving an inch, it switched to pinching.

After pinching hard a few times, it clearly paused for a moment, as if seriously considering why it couldn’t pinch effectively.

Finally, it concluded that it simply wasn’t using enough strength.

Then it exerted more force and pinched even harder.

Jie Ming looked down at it, letting it struggle while his mind turned to other matters.

This thing looked almost no different from when it had first been enlightened—still the same tiny arms and legs.

Its personality, strength, and various other traits seemed to have undergone no major changes.

Yet it was precisely this “lack of change” that was the most abnormal.

When he had designed the spell, although he had not preset a mechanism for immediate dispelling, theoretical deduction suggested the enlightenment effect should naturally decay to zero after a period of time.

It had already been quite some time since he cast the temporary enlightenment spell—more than enough for natural decay.

In fact, according to reports from the Black Giant guards stationed outside the laboratory, the other enchanted equipment inside had gradually lost their activity and returned to normal.

Not just the large instruments—other test tubes of the same model had also reverted to inanimate objects.

But the effect on this particular test tube had not decayed. Instead, it seemed to have stabilized on its own.

Moreover, far from regressing, while maintaining its activated state it had even developed a certain degree of “personality.”

From its initial simple running around, holding meetings, and instinctive attacks, it had now even learned to switch attack strategies promptly when caught. Such changes far exceeded the standard effects of the temporary enlightenment spell.

What was the reason?

What special variables had it experienced during this time?

Several possibilities quickly flashed through Jie Ming’s mind.

The first possibility was greater exposure and experience.

After being handed to the Black Giant Priest, this test tube had gone through the entire process of the plane war.

From the Infernal Sulfur Plane to the Tentacle Tree homeworld.

From the main control room to the battlefield.

From the rift in the plane barrier to the sea of wreckage in the void.

It had absorbed far more information than its laboratory environment could ever provide.

Could this massive influx of information have activated its false soul and thereby solidified its activated state?

Building on this, the second possible speculation was the large amount of interaction it had gained.

Its interactions with the Black Giant Priest were clearly far more frequent than those of other enchanted equipment.

Could this continuous interactive contact have influenced the continuation of the enlightenment effect?

Another more obvious possibility was the difference in plane laws.

This difference was even more pronounced. After all, he had left the Infernal Sulfur Plane and entered the Tentacle Tree Civilization’s universe-type plane. The law environments of the two planes were clearly not the same.

Could this disparity have triggered some unnoticed abnormal reaction within the underlying architecture of the temporary enlightenment spell?

Or was it an accidental effect produced by the combined influence of multiple factors?

Jie Ming mentally noted down each hypothesis, planning to schedule them into the experimental agenda once he returned to the Infernal Sulfur Plane.

Meanwhile, the test tube continued pinching him persistently.

Jie Ming finally glanced down at it, then turned to the nearby Black Giant Priest and casually tossed it over.

“Catch.”

The test tube traced a short arc through the air. The Black Giant Priest reached out skillfully and caught it, his movements smooth as if rehearsed countless times.

The test tube twisted in the Black Giant Priest’s palm, adjusted its sitting posture, and then comfortably nestled within his hand. It no longer attacked the priest madly like at the beginning.

To be precise, after hitting him a few times, it stopped.

And those hits looked less like attacks and more like greetings.

After such a long period of coexistence, its attitude toward the Black Giant Priest had completely changed from when it was first placed in his hand. To Jie Ming, the way the two interacted now resembled that of a master and his pet.

Occasionally, it would prop its tiny arms on the priest’s finger and lean halfway out, as if using the priest’s height to observe the surroundings. The most amusing part was that when Jie Ming took it from the priest’s hand, it would struggle wildly in resistance. But the moment Jie Ming tossed it back to the priest, it would immediately poke half its little quartz face out from between the priest’s fingers and give Jie Ming a righteous, triumphant look.

If a test tube could truly have an expression, it would probably be saying:

“My backup has returned. Come at me again if you dare.”

The Black Giant Priest’s attitude toward the thing had also gradually shifted from initial confusion to a near-silent acceptance.

Sometimes the test tube would climb onto his shoulder or head and sit there, and he would simply let it be.

Jie Ming did not look any longer.

The research on this test tube could be set aside for now. There were more important matters at hand.

He was just about to continue thinking about follow-up research on the Divine Armaments…

Suddenly, a communication signal cut into his spiritual sea.

It was a message from the Prowlers.

Jie Ming’s golden vertical eye between his brows snapped open.

The Prowlers he had deployed had sent back news.

Target located.