After unifying the three realms, the Yellow Dragon Legion garrisoned the demon realm, the White Dragon Legion the god realm, and the Green Dragon Legion Yanhuang Star. The Rapid Response Legion camped in the void stone belt, 2,000 light-years from the god realm, inside a hollowed-out dead star 5,000 kilometers wide. Its side entrance was so discreet you'd miss it—perfectly covert. The four former military districts now guarded the four main planets. These planets, scattered across the void stone belt, formed a near-equilateral triangle with Flying Dragon Star, Yanhuang Star, and the god realm, each roughly 500 million light-years apart. The demon realm, a satellite of Flying Dragon Star, tagged along. Astonishingly, this belt hosted three civilized planets thriving on mental energy, a trait of advanced cosmic life. Our arrival supercharged their development, we later learned. Even wilder, the belt brimmed with high-energy crystals, sparking wars among races for mere kilograms of this pricey fuel. Without these planets, this wouldn't even be a star system. I scoured human astronomy records and alien star charts—nothing on this 3-billion-by-1-billion-light-year belt. So, I dubbed it the Sky Dragon System. Surprises abounded here, especially our game-changing Demon-God Armaments and Dragon Armor, which baffled other cosmic civilizations. But that's later. Right now? Heh, don't get a nosebleed.
Today, I finally caught a break. Unification brought a deluge of headaches, especially immigration. Balancing the four planets' racial ratios drove me nuts. Demons and gods combined outnumbered humans massively. Flying Dragon Star's entire population barely matched theirs, even after years of my "more kids, more blessings" and "heroic mother" policies. Short-term fixes? Impossible. My genius solution: Earth immigration. Earth's population topped 65 billion, so I decided to "help" the UN with their overpopulation crisis. Black, white, yellow, any creed—didn't matter. If you were one year old, orphaned, healthy, and non-disabled, congrats, lucky babies! You'd be humanity's youngest space colonists. Shockingly, 20 million fit the bill. I mobilized 60 legions' worth of airships to haul them to the empire.
Next day, Earth's orphanages and charities found their kids gone, save the disabled or older ones. Global panic ensued—nations formed an anti-terror coalition, fearing 20 million "terrorists" in 18 years. God, what a terrifying number. No one suspected me. Why? My 100+ global orphanages "suffered" too. I played the victim, loudly condemning terrorism for humanity's sake. For 20 million babies, I swallowed the bitterness.
Settling these treasures was a nightmare. Then, heaven smiled. Our exploration fleet found twin stars 600 million light-years away, orbiting one sun. Both, dinosaur-era planets, were 100 times Earth's size. Perfect timing, old man sky! I dispatched the Black Dragon Legion and a military district to these "Twin Stars." Trouble followed—dinosaurs everywhere. For safety and the empire's future, I ordered a dragon purge. Herbivores? A few hundred young, independent ones per planet for tourism. Carnivores? Farmed. I passed laws capping dinosaur numbers, slaughtering excess for dragon meat. Dragons ate with gusto, outdoing other races, and applied Chinese culinary mastery—braised, steamed, grilled, you name it. Damn, it's delicious. We kept one planet's dinosaurs for display, relocating the rest to the Twin Stars' White Dragon Star for meat. A Black Dragon Star military base housed the Black Dragon Legion. 200,000 engineers poured in, building fervently. Our babies got a gorgeous, healthy home. This move, I later realized, was a stroke of brilliance. As our influence grew, trading with cosmic civilizations, dragon meat became a luxury, defining our empire. Some aliens traveled light-years just for a bite.
Following "share the joy," we hauled Earth's named dinosaurs and eggs to Earth in an 8-km-long, 4-km-wide, 1-km-high mega-warship, opening a real dinosaur forest. At a press conference, we claimed our researchers found living dinosaur cells in China's Guangxi region, reviving them after years. As a global heritage, we invited visitors. Earth went nuts—living dinosaurs! We sold dragon meat, sparking backlash for "slaughtering history." But Earth's laws didn't ban it, so we were fine. UNESCO later passed dinosaur protection laws, but we'd already cashed in. Early skeptics balked, but we televised thousands of our staff eating dragon meat. Ever seen that? Pioneers led, others followed, raving about the taste. An 80-year-old American ate dragon penis, desperate before death. Three days later, his "little brother" roared back, sparking a second spring. After watching an adult film, he burned with desire, bedding a lady. God, praise the dragon penis! His four-hour, eight-woman marathon made headlines. Impotent men saw hope. Interviewed, he bragged beside his 20-something wife, "Believe it or not, I'm strong as a youth. My wife's two months pregnant." She added, "My darling's 80 but still potent. Our sex life's perfect, and our baby's healthy."
Dragon penis became legendary, fetching $10,000 per ounce. Orders overwhelmed our company, but we had only three monthly. One firm snagged one, reaping huge profits from a 30-pound penis, though black-market fights erupted during transport. I tried it—damn, no exaggeration. I didn't leave my chambers for a month, legs wobbly from overindulgence. My fault for eating a whole one—crisp, odorless. I mandated one ounce for every adult male citizen. That month, conception rates soared 300%. Gods, with low fertility, saw more pregnancies than the past century. The God King, grinning ear-to-ear, ditched his "Indian god oil," cured permanently. He suspected the Demon King of "GY tendencies" for dodging him, fleeing to the Twin Stars. The Elder Council, those old lechers clearly in their second spring, restricted dragon penis exports. Earth clamored for more, so we clarified limited supply, pivoting to impotence-curing drugs—natural, side-effect-free, restoring manly pride. Use dragon penis, and we all win.
Militarily, we found rare empire-coded 0001 metal for armaments and abundant high-energy crystals in the demon realm. Demons, unable to absorb them like dragons, sat on a treasure trove. Lucky we arrived—others would've left demons worse off than gods. Yield was modest, but enough for a 50,000-strong demon armament corps. I mixed them with gods, reshuffling to curb factionalism. Demon generals Lalan and Lang Wuyu joined, true "Demon-God Generals" now. Each 10,000-man brigade had one, and each legion had one general leading three brigades. Eight generals commanded 250,000—seven field legions plus a 40,000 Palace Guard armament team. Beyond six legions' direct armaments, two guarded the four districts, each district half a legion's strength, totaling two legions. With demons, the empire's population hit 350 million across six habitable planets. Six field legions, minus the native Palace Guard, were expansion vanguards. Home defenses held three legions' worth, plus four million reservists. Solid.
The army totaled five million professionals across six legions and four districts—500,000 per field legion, 250,000 per district. The million-strong logistics corps ensured warship readiness, doubling as the empire's military industrial backbone. Each field legion had 40,000 warships, 10,000 mega-class, the rest large or medium. Small ships, unfit for cosmic wars, stayed minimal. Strength surged. Four million reservists trained constantly; total mobilization could hit 200 million. Earth couldn't match that ratio. Here, age or illness didn't matter—if you could operate gear, you fought. Everyone could shoot. Civilian soldiers are the future of cosmic dominance.
With high mechanization, citizens worked four hours daily, spending the rest training or volunteering. Electronic cards, holding personal data and access levels, enabled cashless transactions. Four hours' work covered meals and public facilities, provided tasks were done. Overtime earned e-coins and morality points, fostering mutual help. Satellite monitoring and labor departments ensured fairness. One citizen hit 100,000 morality points, earning a civilian blue Tier 5 Dragon Armor, sparking enthusiasm. Even clumsy bear-folk helped push carts. Cards were theft-proof. Citizens focused on self-improvement, soldiers handled military production. Students studied from 6 to 11 a.m., then roamed free. To curb boredom, quarterly planet tournaments fed into an annual national martial contest. Winners got military posts or rich rewards. Monthly district top-three advanced to quarterly planet tournaments; losers waited next quarter, easing congestion. Citizens at Tier 3 joined, others trained feverishly, fueling a martial craze. Planets added trial zones.
I'd heard of bold American chicks, but seeing them on the beach—damn, eye candy. A blonde bombshell strutted, another sunbathed topless, her peaks and flat valley drawing every guy's gaze.
"Brother, what're you staring at?" Mimi's syrupy voice hit. I'd promised my wives an Earth trip post-victory, and here we were. I'd sent them off to enjoy some eye-feasting, but Mimi clung to me.
"Little Cat Mimi, why aren't you swimming with your sisters? Ditch the clothes—wear a swimsuit like them. With your figure, you'd show 'em what's what," I teased.
"Brother, you've got those at home," Mimi blushed. Right, her tail. A swimsuit would reveal it, landing her in an FBI lab as a rat.
"I've got an idea," I said.
"What?" She was dying to join.
"Chop off the tail at the hospital—how's that?"
"No way! Think of something better." Even if she agreed, I'd never ditch that adorable, fragrant tail.
"How about we buy these swimsuits, host a swim contest back home? Tons of girls will wear them, and you won't stand out. Good, right?" I grinned, imagining a hundred races' beauties swimming—what a sight. Convincing the Elder Council's old fogeys might be tricky, but every guy would back me.
"Great! Don't back out," Mimi chirped. "Wow, so big, so full!" Wait, that looks familiar. It was Little Moth, suddenly stacked.
"Brother, like it?" She jiggled, her curves tracing sensual arcs. "Xue'er took me for a 'breast enhancement.'" Xue'er, why? Fake fluff can't beat natural.
Back home, rumors spread I loved big-chested women. After flat-chest mania, a big-bust craze hit. Total misunderstanding. My wives' assets grew from my nightly efforts, not my choice. Now, they're tough to grasp single-handedly.
My wives returned from Earth loaded with goodies. Only Mimi sulked—she'd never swum, and the ocean tempted her. Her puppy-dog eyes screamed, "Keep your promise, or no peace." No choice—I got to work.
On day four post-return, I proposed a beauty pageant at the Elder Council. "This pageant will boost citizens' aesthetic appreciation, purify souls, and elevate cultural and spiritual life."
"Well said, Majesty. I thought bear-folk women were tops, but city life showed me otherwise. Beauty's not standard, but our women excel at childbirth and chores, not allure. This pageant's vital for shared beauty standards," Xiong Te said, dialectically insightful. His drooling, though, felt off.
"Our fox-folk fully support, sending ten stunning ladies. We might sweep the top ten," ex-fox chief and elder Fifi cooed, winking. No surprise—fox women were hot commodities, oozing charm and bedroom prowess. Maybe it's genetic. Fifi once tempted me; I bedded her, shocked to find her untouched. Her skills were so masterful I nearly lost control. Her explanation? "Watched my parents too much as a kid."
"God-folk will send ten beauties, showing our women's unique grace," the God King said, playing prim. Three days here, and he seduced a fox vixen.
"Demons lack nothing—especially beauties," the Demon King boasted.
"Everyone agrees, so it's settled. If dragon women weren't beauties, Majesty wouldn't have taken them all," the dragon elder quipped. Pfft. I spat my tea. Praise or jab?
I concluded, "Unanimous—Fifi will handle specifics."
Next day, flyers flooded the planets: "Beauties, join! Bask in Black Dragon Star's sun, win rich prizes. Act now!" "Sky Dragon Empire's First Beauty Pageant—see diverse beauties! Men, prepare for nosebleeds!" The buzz exceeded expectations; even old hermits emerged, claiming, "Learn till you die."
On Sky Dragon Year 6, March 1, Women's Day, the pageant kicked off. The first runway show cut 10,000 to 3,000. Day two featured a Black Dragon Star beach show, all live-streamed.
Bikini-clad beauties shyly hit the sand. With satellite-only coverage and no men on-site, they let loose. God, what a sight. Every race's charm dazzled. On empire square's giant screen, men fainted from blood loss, hospitalizing more than the past five years—mostly guys. Fox-folk's fluffy tails, cat-folk's swaying white ones, tugged hearts. Wait, that's Mimi! She snuck in, despite not competing. This was for her.
A mountainside viewing platform overlooked the beach, but too far for our eyes. "Didn't know other races' women were so lovable, each unique. Brother, look," the Demon King said, passing the God King binoculars. Hesitant, the God King saw everyone else using them. Don't want to stand out. He peered, and a certain part stirred. The half-covered allure outdid his concubines' nudity. A calming spell failed—his heart pounded. Sleepless night ahead.
I watched Mimi through binoculars, worried despite Xue'er's swimsuit-clad presence. Mimi's wrist bore a jade band—her Dragon Armor's base form. Xue'er's post-childbirth body still stunned, like our wedding day. Wedding? Never got a license. On Earth, I'd be illegally cohabiting, no ticket bought. Good thing I made up for it here, easing my guilt.
Mimi lay back, Xue'er guiding her waist for backstroke. Xue'er, smart but dumb here. Teaching advanced moves before floating? Mimi wouldn't learn today. A day on the beach fulfilled her wish. The pageant's third phase—wit Q&A and impromptu performance—crowned a demon, Leng Yan, wise and gorgeous, Meilina's sister Meiliduo. She never mentioned a stunner sister.
"Demons snagged first, sigh," the God King said, accepting the result—Meiliduo outshone all.
"Think there's better?" the Demon King gloated.
"Didn't say that—just surprised. She's too pretty for you to pass up, right?" the God King teased.
"If she's single, I'll marry her," the Demon King shot back.
"You old dog, showing your tail! Marry my daughter, and I'll let her marry you," the God King fumed.
"What? You're ancient and want my daughter?" the Demon King retorted. "If you want mine, why can't I want yours?"
The God King gaped, then burst out laughing. "You joker."
"Jealous?" the Demon King grinned.
"Really?" the God King pressed.
"Why lie? My daughters are top-tier," the Demon King said, his plain looks belying his stunning offspring.
The pageant wrapped. I presented awards, handing Fifi a Tier 6 red phoenix Dragon Armor for first, sparking cheers. Second and third got Tier 5 and 4 armors. The blood-bound armors, paired with crystal crowns, made the trio radiant, stunning the crowd. Non-top-three envied; top ten got government jobs for their talent—unlike Earth's simplistic pageants. Regrets hit those who skipped, eyeing priceless armors and prestigious posts. The first pageant ended triumphantly.
Reader's Corner: Yo, readers, Feitian's juggling babies, dinosaurs, and beauties! Will alien civilizations covet the Sky Dragon System's crystals? Can Mimi's tail stay secret in the next pageant? Drop your cosmic guesses in the comments—let's unravel these galactic troubles!