Chương 129: Chapter 129: The Grand Opening of the Trade Hub 

Closing and opening his eyes, the night had passed in a flash. 

Luke once again brutally shoved his noisy ninja-shaped alarm clock back into the Dark Dimension, stretched lazily, and walked out of his room. 

Tony Stark, who was currently passing by in the hallway, stopped and stared at Luke in absolute disbelief. He looked up at the morning sun, then checked his expensive watch just to be sure. 

"What's wrong with you today? Why in the world are you awake this early?" Tony asked, genuinely shocked. 

"The United Earth Federation headquarters I established yesterday is officially opening for interstellar trade this morning. I have to go oversee the launch," Luke replied, rubbing his eyes and sighing helplessly. "Otherwise, do you honestly think I would willingly wake up before noon?" 

"Then why didn't you just schedule the grand opening for the afternoon?" Tony frowned, thoroughly confused by Luke's lack of logical planning. 

Luke froze, his hand pausing halfway to his face. He aggressively slapped his own forehead in profound annoyance. Why didn't I think of that?! 

Tony offered him a highly dismissive, incredibly smug look and casually walked away. 

Feeling profoundly stupid, Luke teleported to the U.E.F. headquarters. He found Megatron standing completely still in the massive central courtyard, silently watching the sunrise. 

"Did you finish the renovations last night?" Luke asked, walking up beside the towering Decepticon to watch the sun peek over the horizon. 

Megatron nodded slowly. "Yes. I directed the Shadowkhan units, and we successfully completed all scheduled tasks well within the designated timeframe last night." 

"Then why didn't you go back to Kamar-Taj and get some sleep?" Luke asked curiously. 

Even highly advanced mechanical lifeforms like Cybertronians required periodic rest cycles—essentially shutting down their primary systems to clear their localized data caches and run internal diagnostics. While they didn't sleep daily like humans, they usually rested every few days. 

Megatron shook his massive, metallic head. "In my native universe, I was locked in an eternal, brutal war against the Autobots. I engaged Optimus Prime and his forces in lethal combat almost daily. The constant, massive expenditure of combat energy required me to initiate a restorative sleep cycle nearly every single solar cycle." 

"However," Megatron continued, "In this universe, my energy expenditure is practically non-existent. Consequently, a single, brief restorative cycle is sufficient to sustain my operational capacity for an entire month." 

Megatron stood up straighter, looking down at Luke. "Furthermore, Cybertronians are not immortal. Even the most highly resilient living metal is eventually worn down by the endless passage of cosmic time. Therefore, I refuse to waste my limited lifespan on the meaningless, unproductive act of sleeping." 

Luke felt slightly, personally attacked. He was exactly the kind of lazy person who could easily function on one hour of sleep a month but absolutely insisted on sleeping twelve hours every single day anyway. However, he perfectly understood Megatron's underlying implication. 

I refuse to waste my life sleeping... which translates to: I want to spend my life violently fighting people. 

"Basically, you're incredibly bored and desperate for a fight, aren't you?" Luke nodded knowingly. 

"Well, you're in luck. I will likely be acquiring a massive, highly advanced mechanical armada in the very near future. I will require you to assume absolute command of those forces to actively maintain global order." 

Seeing Megatron's optics instantly flare with intense, barely contained excitement, Luke smiled. "Just remember to be careful. You know exactly how incredibly dangerous the entities in this universe are. I expect absolute efficiency and zero casualties within this new armada." 

"I shall not disappoint you," Megatron nodded firmly, offering a crisp, highly military salute before drawing a Sling Ring portal and departing for Kamar-Taj. 

Returning to his designated hangar in Kamar-Taj, Megatron violently pumped his massive metallic fist in absolute triumph! 

For the past several months, he had been essentially confined to the Grand Library, forced to painstakingly study ancient, complex magical theories. But he was fundamentally a warlord, not a scientist like Optimus! The endless academic study constantly gave his processor a headache. 

Furthermore, under Luke's command, there had been a profound, depressing lack of actual combat. He spent most of his days acting as a glorified taxi or helping the sorcerers water their plants. He could literally count the number of times he had engaged in actual combat this year on one hand—and that was including the brief, utterly one-sided massacre of those pathetic human spies a few days ago! 

But now! He was finally going to receive command of a massive, heavily armed mechanical legion and return to the glorious battlefield! He could violently crush his enemies while casually reading magical texts as a hobby! This is absolutely perfect! 

Humming a highly aggressive Cybertronian war-chant, Megatron smoothly transformed into his sleek fighter-jet mode, settled into his hangar, and happily pulled up a digital magical grimoire to study. 

As the designated opening time arrived, the various alien delegations from across the Nine Realms began stepping through the localized spatial rifts, utilizing Luke's permanent portals to arrive directly within the U.E.F. headquarters. 

The representatives from the various planets looked at the massive, beautifully decorated skyscrapers and nodded in profound, absolute satisfaction. The intricate, culturally accurate designs perfectly captured the unique aesthetics of their respective homeworlds, making them feel incredibly comfortable and welcome. 

Luke had formally invited the sovereign leaders of each cosmic race, along with the high-ranking diplomatic envoys from Earth's major superpowers, to gather in the grand conference hall of the central tower. 

Once everyone was seated, Luke stood up, offering a highly diplomatic, welcoming smile. "I am incredibly pleased to officially announce the grand opening of the Nine Realms Trade Hub! Thank you all for attending." 

He glanced around the massive, circular table, meeting the eyes of the various cosmic leaders. "I would like to briefly clarify exactly why this centralized hub was established here on Earth." 

Noticing the completely clueless expressions on the faces of the human diplomats, Luke waved his hand. He utilized dark energy to construct a massive, glowing, 3D holographic projection of a colossal, sprawling tree directly in the center of the table. 

"This is a conceptual, mystical representation of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Our respective realms are intrinsically linked to its cosmic branches. The localized space within Yggdrasil contains numerous, highly stable spatial rifts that naturally connect these specific realms." 

"Asgard, Vanaheim, Alfheim, Jotunheim, Svartalfheim, Helheim, Muspelheim, and of course, the planet we are currently standing on, Midgard—Earth. These are the realms distributed across the World Tree." 

As Luke spoke their names, detailed, glowing miniature planets materialized on the various branches of the holographic tree. Earth, however, was positioned directly on the massive, central trunk. 

"Earth is geographically and mystically positioned at the absolute, dead center of the Nine Realms. Consequently, it possesses the highest concentration of naturally occurring spatial rifts connecting to the other realms, allowing for the fastest, most efficient interstellar travel. That is the fundamental, logistical reason the Trade Hub was established here." 

Having concluded his brief cosmic geography lesson, Luke noticed the human diplomats nodding slowly, finally grasping the true, terrifying scale of the universe they were now a part of. 

Suddenly, Loki, sitting confidently in his royal Asgardian attire, raised his hand. "A minor correction, Lord Luke. Technically, there are currently only eight realms. Due to a... recent localized conflict, Muspelheim was completely, violently annihilated by Asgard's Bifrost. It is currently nothing more than a highly dispersed cloud of cosmic dust." 

Loki smiled warmly, but his eyes projected a highly calculated, terrifying aura of absolute, unyielding authority. The message to the other realms was clear: Asgard is still the supreme military power. Do not cross us. 

Luke nodded casually and flicked his finger. The glowing projection of Muspelheim violently shattered and was completely erased from the holographic tree. 

"Thank you, King Loki, for the highly updated cosmic intelligence," Luke said smoothly, steering the conversation back to the agenda. 

"The primary, absolute objective of this Trade Hub is to actively facilitate free trade, technological exchange, and mutual cooperation between our realms. Within these walls, you are actively encouraged to aggressively market your unique planetary resources, advanced technologies, and cultural exports. Furthermore, you can utilize the central registry to formally post diplomatic requests or commissions." 

Luke gestured toward the Alfheim delegation. "For example, if the Light Elves discover a highly dangerous, unknown hostile entity actively invading their realm, they can formally post a high-yield bounty or request for military assistance on the registry. Any other realm capable of providing that assistance can accept the commission. We will actively establish a highly efficient, mutually beneficial support network." 

As he spoke, Luke deliberately, pointedly locked eyes with the human diplomats. His silent, highly aggressive implication was crystal clear: Stop obsessing over petty, insignificant geopolitical squabbles on Earth! Look at the infinite, cosmic market opening before you! Focus your pathetic resources on expanding outward! 

The human diplomats, highly trained in reading political subtext, immediately grasped his meaning and nodded frantically in understanding. 

Luke smiled in absolute satisfaction. The introduction was complete. 

"Now, regarding the daily, administrative operations of the Trade Hub," Luke continued. 

"Firstly, I will absolutely not be actively micromanaging your individual trade agreements. I explicitly established this neutral hub purely to facilitate the rapid technological and economic advancement of Earth and the allied realms, not to act as a cosmic dictator." Luke effortlessly lied, completely hiding his intense desire to simply avoid doing paperwork. "Therefore, you may trade freely and confidently." 

"HOWEVER!" Luke sharply tapped his knuckles on the table, the sharp sound echoing through the hall. 

"While I refuse to micromanage your businesses, I absolutely demand basic civility. Within the boundaries of this facility, I absolutely will not tolerate any physical violence, sabotage, or hostile espionage! You are here to conduct legitimate, mutually beneficial commerce! Furthermore, I demand absolute contractual integrity. Do not attempt to aggressively scam each other, sell defective merchandise, or breach your signed trade agreements." 

"If any nation or realm deliberately violates these fundamental rules, I will immediately, permanently revoke their trading privileges and violently exile them from the Hub! And if your violation is particularly severe or destructive... I will personally visit your homeworld to have a 'private chat' with your leadership." 

Luke's expression was incredibly serious, radiating a localized, terrifying aura of absolute authority. 

The alien leaders practically broke their necks nodding in frantic agreement. They had all either personally witnessed or received highly detailed intelligence reports regarding Luke casually, effortlessly annihilating the massive Dark Elf flagship with a single, lazy wave of his hand. None of them were suicidal enough to test his patience over a trade dispute. 

The human diplomats, already profoundly terrified of Luke's reality-warping power and his willingness to physically mutilate spies, also nodded obediently. 

Seeing everyone's perfect cooperation, Luke smiled brightly. 

He quickly explained that because the Nine Realms currently lacked a standardized, universally recognized fiat currency, all initial transactions would be conducted strictly via direct barter or localized resource exchange. Eventually, they would hold a democratic vote to establish a unified, interstellar currency. 1

With the primary agenda concluded, Luke abruptly dismissed the meeting, casually abandoning the diplomats to begin their frantic, high-stakes trade negotiations. 

Returning to his massive, luxurious office at the very top of the central tower, Luke immediately threw himself into his incredibly comfortable, Nick Fury-replica leather chair, closed his eyes, and promptly fell asleep. 

He slept deeply and peacefully until noon. 

Waking up, Luke checked the time. Assuming the various delegations had been aggressively negotiating all morning, he decided to head down to the primary exchange floor to ensure no chaotic, interstellar brawls had broken out over mispriced magical artifacts. 

Stepping onto the massive, sprawling primary trade floor of the central tower, Luke was immediately hit by a wall of chaotic noise. The area was absolutely packed! Representatives from every single realm were frantically moving between specialized kiosks, aggressively examining exotic resources, and loudly haggling over exchange rates. Whenever a complex trade agreement was finalized, specialized Shadow Ninjas efficiently escorted the parties to secure, automated registry terminals to formally log the transaction. 

Luke had mandated that all formal transactions be explicitly recorded by the central registry. This ensured absolute transparency and provided an irrefutable, magical paper trail in case a dispute arose later over defective merchandise or breached contracts. If someone was stupid enough to attempt an illegal, off-the-books transaction in a dark alley... well, whatever happened to them was entirely their own fault. 

Luke casually strolled over to the primary data terminal and ordered a Shadow Ninja to pull up the current transaction logs. 

He nodded in profound satisfaction. In just a few hours, over three hundred major, highly complex interstellar trade agreements had already been formally established and logged! 

Furthermore, as mutual trust naturally developed between the historically isolated realms, the sheer volume and complexity of the trades would inevitably skyrocket. 

Scanning the highly detailed categorization logs, Luke was genuinely surprised to discover that Earth had actually finalized the highest total number of individual trade agreements compared to any other realm! 

Highly curious, Luke opened the specific transaction files to see exactly what humanity was trading with advanced cosmic civilizations. 

Wow. 

Luke was absolutely astounded. The vast, overwhelming majority of Earth's successful trades had been meticulously orchestrated by the Chinese delegation! Looking at the specific items they were exporting, Luke finally realized the sheer, absurd depth of their mythological resources. 

They had successfully traded massive quantities of legendary 'Dukang Wine'—an incredibly potent, spiritually nourishing vintage—to the Asgardians and Dwarves in exchange for highly advanced magical metallurgy and defensive technology! The 'God of Cookery's' exquisite, magically enhanced culinary dishes were an absolute sensation, securing dozens of highly lucrative technology transfers. Furthermore, they were aggressively exporting 'Seamless Heavenly Garments' (woven by the Weaver Girl) and various exotic, highly potent spiritual fruits, establishing a massive, highly profitable trade surplus! 

Scanning further down the list, Luke found something completely bizarre. 

Vampire ashes?! Why in the world is humanity exporting Vampire ashes?! 

Even more baffling, the Light Elves of Alfheim had actively, aggressively purchased massive, industrial quantities of the ashes! Remembering the Light Elves were essentially the premier botanists and magical agriculturalists of the Nine Realms, Luke logically deduced that the highly concentrated, cursed biological remains of vampires likely functioned as an incredibly potent, highly effective magical fertilizer for their exotic plants. 

Of course, the trade was highly reciprocal. The Chinese delegation was aggressively importing massive amounts of highly valuable knowledge and resources. They had secured comprehensive, highly detailed agricultural training manuals from the Light Elves, massive shipments of master-crafted, highly enchanted weaponry from the Dwarves, and colossal quantities of incredibly rare, highly durable magical ores from the Frost Giants of Jotunheim. 

Staring at the incredibly thick, highly detailed ledger documenting the Chinese delegation's absolute economic domination of the alien markets, Luke felt a massive, profound surge of national pride. 

The Trade Hub's initial launch was an absolute, resounding success, largely due to the aggressive, brilliant marketing strategies of the Chinese team! 

Highly satisfied, Luke decided to personally visit the Earth-designated commercial sector on the ground floor to observe their operations. 

Because Earth was represented by numerous, highly distinct national governments, Luke had divided the ground floor of the human skyscraper into dozens of individual, highly visible commercial storefronts. Naturally, the global superpowers had aggressively secured the most prime, high-traffic real estate located directly opposite the primary entrances. 

Walking past the various storefronts, Luke noticed the profound disparity in operational efficiency. The European and American storefronts were relatively empty, staffed by only one or two highly stressed diplomats awkwardly attempting to communicate with passing aliens. 

The Chinese storefront, however, was an absolute masterclass in hyper-efficient, aggressive commerce. They had deployed a highly coordinated team of exactly five specialized operatives. Each operative was specifically assigned to actively engage and market to a single, distinct alien race! Nobody was idle. They were all aggressively, passionately closing deals. 

The absolute microsecond Luke stepped into the bustling storefront, the operatives instantly noticed him and immediately ceased their negotiations to respectfully greet him. 

Luke sighed internally. He had simply wanted to quietly observe their masterful sales techniques, not disrupt their business. He politely waved the operatives back to their respective alien clients, requesting to speak solely with the primary manager. 

The manager, a highly jovial, remarkably portly man with a warm, incredibly infectious smile, stepped forward. Looking at him, Luke felt a bizarre, highly inexplicable sense of profound familiarity. 

Seeing Luke's slightly puzzled expression, the portly man chuckled warmly and rubbed his head. "Lord Luke, do I perhaps look incredibly familiar to you?" 

Luke smiled and nodded. "How did you guess?" 

The man offered a highly humble, self-deprecating smile. "Well, I am a professional businessman! I would be incredibly bad at my job if I couldn't read the expressions of my most important clients!" 

"A businessman?" Luke asked, his curiosity deepening. The delegation was entirely composed of highly vetted, official government operatives. Why would they send a literal corporate businessman to negotiate highly sensitive interstellar technology transfers? 

The portly man chuckled. He reached deep into his pocket and casually pulled out a massive, highly polished, incredibly dense ingot of solid gold. He struck a highly traditional, incredibly recognizable pose, holding the gold ingot aloft. 

??? 

Luke stared at the incredibly familiar, highly iconic image, absolutely stunned. "Are you... the literal God of Wealth?!" 

Good lord! They literally deployed the God of Wealth to personally manage their interstellar storefront?! If this store isn't the most insanely profitable business in the entire universe, it would literally defy the laws of reality! 

This was the absolute pinnacle of deploying specialized talent! Who in the entire infinite multiverse understood the fundamental, metaphysical concepts of economics and wealth generation better than the literal deity of prosperity?! 

Luke was so profoundly impressed he honestly felt the sudden, highly irrational urge to instantly conjure an altar, light some incense, and offer the man a plate of fresh apples, desperately praying the God of Wealth would magically bless his Conversion Module to generate more dark energy! 

The God of Wealth chuckled at Luke's stunned reaction. "Normally, I'm perfectly content to just sit comfortably in my celestial office, passively analyzing global economic trends and subtly directing investments toward the most profitable sectors. However, the central government recognized the absolute, unprecedented magnitude of this interstellar Trade Hub. They specifically requested my personal, direct intervention to ensure maximum economic yield." 

Luke nodded fervently. "Absolutely brilliant execution. Your team single-handedly drove the entire initial launch of this Hub and secured incredible resources. Therefore, I am formally awarding your nation an immediate, highly deserved bonus of twenty Impression Points!" 

The God of Wealth beamed with genuine joy and nodded deeply, preparing to offer a highly eloquent, traditional expression of gratitude. 

However, before he could speak, a highly agitated, red-faced American diplomat aggressively shoved his way into the storefront! 

"Lord Luke! I must formally, vehemently protest! Awarding them such a massive point bonus is incredibly arbitrary and highly unfair! While they have indeed secured numerous trade agreements, those agreements exclusively, selfishly benefit their own nation! They provide absolutely zero tangible, shared benefit to the rest of the global community!" the American yelled indignantly. 

Luke stared at the highly disruptive, incredibly annoying diplomat, his expression instantly dropping to absolute zero. 

Your own pathetic storefront hasn't successfully closed a single interstellar trade agreement all morning, and you have the absolute audacity to run over here and aggressively complain about your rivals' success?! 

"It appears your administration still fundamentally, catastrophically fails to comprehend the core concept of the scoring system I explicitly established," Luke said, his voice terrifyingly cold and quiet. "Do you understand the definition of the word 'Impression'?" 

The American diplomat froze, the sheer, aggressive hostility in Luke's tone instantly shattering his self-righteous anger. He opened his mouth, but realizing the terrifying implication, his face rapidly drained of color. 

"The 'Impression Score' is an absolute, entirely subjective numerical representation of exactly how much I personally tolerate your existence," Luke explained, taking a slow, menacing step forward. "When a nation actively executes actions that highly amuse me, significantly improve my mood, or simply impress me... my personal impression of them increases. Therefore, their score increases." 

"The Chinese delegation aggressively, successfully initiated massive interstellar trade, highly stimulating the Hub's economy on its very first day! Their success highly amused me! I am incredibly satisfied with their performance! Therefore, my impression of them improved, and their score increased." 

Luke took another step forward, glaring down at the trembling diplomat. 

"Conversely... your delegation has been entirely, pathetically useless all morning. And now, you aggressively storm into another nation's storefront, disrupting their highly profitable negotiations, simply to loudly complain to me about how incredibly unfair you think I am. Your actions are highly annoying. I am currently incredibly dissatisfied with you." 

Luke watched a bead of cold sweat slowly roll down the terrified diplomat's forehead. He took a deliberate, highly dramatic step backward, wiping his hands as if he had just touched something disgusting. 

"However, you are incredibly fortunate. Today is the grand opening of my Trade Hub. I am currently in a highly positive mood, and I absolutely refuse to ruin the festive atmosphere by violently mutilating you in front of the alien delegations. Therefore, I will not formally deduct points from your nation today." 

"But I want you to remember this specific moment clearly," Luke added, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. "I currently find your entire delegation incredibly, profoundly irritating." 

He stared into the diplomat's terrified eyes and scoffed dismissively. "Get out of my sight. However, as a localized penalty for annoying me: if your specific delegation fails to successfully, formally conclude at least ten distinct interstellar trade agreements before the Hub closes tonight, I will manually deduct the points anyway." 

Watching the terrified diplomat practically sprint out of the storefront in sheer panic, Luke shook his head helplessly. His previously excellent mood had been completely, thoroughly ruined by the pathetic interruption. 

Seeing Luke's deeply annoyed expression, the God of Wealth smoothly waved his hand. A highly efficient operative immediately sprinted over, carrying an elegantly wrapped, ornate silk bag. 

"Please, Lord Luke, accept this humble offering! It is a fresh batch of highly specialized, spiritually enhanced pastries personally crafted by the God of Cookery! I absolutely guarantee they will instantly elevate your mood!" the God of Wealth offered, gently handing Luke an intricately crafted, glowing pastry. 

The God of Cookery's personal creations?! 

Luke's curiosity instantly peaked. He eagerly accepted the pastry and took a small, cautious bite. 

Instantly, an unimaginable, profound wave of absolute, pure sweetness and intense, spiritual warmth violently flooded his senses! It was incredibly delicious! More importantly, the highly complex, magically infused ingredients actively stimulated the pleasure centers of his brain, instantly, completely erasing the residual annoyance caused by the American diplomat! 

"Incredible, isn't it?" the God of Wealth smiled warmly, watching Luke's expression instantly brighten. He handed the entire silk bag to Luke. 

"I am not simply boasting about our culinary superiority! Literally every single alien delegation that has sampled these pastries has been absolutely, profoundly obsessed! Honestly, I estimate that the God of Cookery's treats are directly responsible for finalizing at least thirty percent of our total trade volume today!" The God of Wealth pointed toward the back of the storefront, where several highly aggressive, heavily armed Frost Giants were currently happily munching on delicate pastries while aggressively negotiating the price of magical ores. 

Having consumed the entire pastry, Luke felt a profound, lingering sense of deep relaxation and happiness. He nodded in absolute satisfaction and eagerly accepted the bag. 

"Thank you. This legitimately improved my mood significantly. I will gladly accept these. I plan to share them with a few friends; perhaps their profound satisfaction will inadvertently generate a few more lucrative trade opportunities for you!" Luke smiled warmly. 

He stared hungrily at the bag, fighting a massive internal battle to resist simply devouring the entire batch himself right now. 

No. I need to bring these back to Tony and Galacta. If I eat them all myself, Tony will complain eternally. 

"Please, Lord Luke, take your time! If you require more, simply inform us! Our supply is practically limitless!" the God of Wealth bowed respectfully. 

Having confirmed that the Trade Hub was highly stable, wildly profitable, and functioning perfectly without his direct oversight, Luke formally bid the God of Wealth farewell and utilized a Sling Ring portal to immediately return to Kamar-Taj.