All Rewards Come at a Cost
906 Words
Even if it was just a name, even if there was no concrete information yet, her heart couldn’t stop trembling.
An organization from another world—one calling itself the “Multiversal Doomsday Civilization Mutual Aid Association”—represented a possibility beyond the limits of everything she knew.
“B-Boss…” Ji Mingshu stammered for the first time in her life. Her eyes were wide open, and her voice trembled with urgency. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“I’ve already visited the association’s headquarters,” Shen Yu replied calmly. “And I brought back some ‘gifts.’ These contain cultural and technological imprints of civilizations from other worlds—things that simply cannot be fabricated by anyone in our world.”
Strictly speaking, he wasn’t lying.
He truly intended to create such an association.
The reason was simple: neither he nor his counterparts in other worlds held supreme positions of power in their own realities.
Sure, Shen Yu was wealthy—but what did that mean in the face of the current global crisis?
What they possessed, however, was something far more valuable: resources from other worlds.
Without a background strong enough—at least one that appeared strong—it would be impossible to protect what they had.
So if he didn’t have a background… he would create one.
The information gaps between worlds, the disparity in resources, the existence of the Fog Space, and the fog itself—these were the foundations of his confidence.
As long as the plan was well-designed and backed by tangible “proof,” today’s fiction might well become tomorrow’s reality.
And at this moment, Ji Mingshu had completely bought in.
“Culture, history, technology—these can only emerge from true civilizations. If you can show me even fragments of those, then they can’t possibly be faked.” She took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. Her eyes lit up with professional fire. “Boss, I won’t press for too much detail, but I need three key points. They’re crucial to how I structure our next steps.”
“Ask.” Shen Yu nodded.
He had revealed part of the truth to test her—and to leverage her intelligence.
If Ji Mingshu could easily poke holes in his logic, how could the world be expected to believe?
“First: why you? What makes you special in the eyes of this association?”
A sharp question. The answer would determine how irreplaceable Shen Yu was—and how much value he could extract from it.
“Crossing between worlds isn’t simple,” he replied. “It requires a rare, irreplaceable qualification. So far, I’m the only one in our civilization who possesses it. Within the association, I’m called a ‘World Representative.’ Other representatives from other worlds can also come here, but I’m the sole bridge from our side.”
He could clearly see Ji Mingshu clench her fists tightly.
Only once before, when he helped her deal with the side effects of her hyperthymesia, had she lost her composure like this.
But this was understandable.
This meant Shen Yu was the only link between human civilization and the multiversal alliance of apocalyptic worlds.
No government, no faction could afford the risk of losing that connection—especially not in times like these.
“Second,” Ji Mingshu continued, voice steadying, “since it’s called a mutual aid association, does that imply a transactional relationship between civilizations?”
“Exactly.” Shen Yu gave her an approving look. “One of the core principles of the association is: ‘All gains must come with a cost.’”
That was the essence of “mutual aid.”
Other worlds could offer help—but only within limits.
Likewise, they also needed help in return.
To make this concept believable, the fictitious association had to be powerful—but it also had to have rules.
And this principle provided the perfect framework.
“‘All gains must come with a cost’… Very reasonable.” Ji Mingshu didn’t hesitate. “Even among doomsday civilizations, there’s no such thing as unconditional support. Individuals might act from emotion, but between powers, only interests endure.”
“What’s your third question?” Shen Yu asked.
“How many civilizations have you contacted? And what are their current states?”
Now they were at the core issue—how much influence this association could actually exert.
“There are different tiers within the association,” Shen Yu answered. “We’re still a newly joined, relatively weak civilization. So far, I can only make contact with representatives from worlds where we’re still capable of helping each other. Right now, I’ve only officially connected with one—a civilization that entered the interstellar era over 200 years ago. There’s another one I’m negotiating with, and it looks promising.”
He intentionally withheld the Martial World for now, choosing instead to lead with the Interstellar Civilization.
It was a calculated move.
Martial civilizations take longer to mature, and for now, their urgent need—food—was something Shen Yu could provide personally.
But an interstellar civilization? Their advanced technology alone could serve as powerful proof.
It also bought him time—if other versions of himself in other worlds took longer to arrive in the Fog Space, he wouldn’t need to explain too much too soon.
And Ji Mingshu? She was already convinced.
- Writer
