Chapter 292: The Grandmaster's Supreme Racing Cup
"Your Majesty, you truly are a god of war for this era. One can't help but feel deep admiration."
The High Evolutionary shamelessly flattered with over-the-top praise.
Nearby, a research staffer who witnessed his sycophantic display had a flash of disdain in their eyes.
After all, this man was now one of Ronan's favored guests, the key contributor to Zerg weapon research. Naturally, they wouldn't dare let their contempt show openly—doing so would only invite unnecessary trouble.
"Your understanding of warfare remains far too shallow."
Pointing at the star chart, Ronan stated bluntly, "The core reason for dividing the battlefield is to cut off the strategic depth of the Three Galactic Empires. That way, we avoid a drawn-out tug-of-war beyond the three capital planets. The longer the conflict drags on, the more unpredictable the battlefield becomes. Besides, the capital planets are sure to be heavily defended. Trying to conquer them by force will only spark fierce resistance. My real strategy is to blockade and deplete them until they surrender."
At no point had Ronan ever explicitly said he wanted to destroy the Three Galactic Empires.
If he did, the accuser faction would certainly face internal opposition.
Moreover, cornered dogs will jump over walls—the galactic civilizations might wage a war of attrition with no regard for losses.
A collapsing galactic order clearly did not align with Ronan's strategic vision.
On top of that, the Seven Lantern Legion would likely sit back and watch, only to swoop in at the end and snatch away the spoils of victory—then reshape the galactic system in their own image.
Ronan also took human nature into account.
As long as the Three Galactic Empires fell into a disadvantage and saw no hope of victory, even the mere prospect of surrendering for survival would stir internal voices of submission.
Eventually, under the pressure of public opinion, they would be forced to bow to Ronan.
If the war went according to plan and he successfully compelled their surrender, he could then force them to sign a treaty limiting their future development. During the ensuing period of peace, he'd rapidly build up the Zerg army—eliminating the risk of a future resurgence.
"Your Majesty, may I deploy a Zerg army unit?" the High Evolutionary asked cautiously.
"You're trying to go after the Guardians of the Galaxy?"
Ronan frowned, instantly seeing through his intentions.
News of Allen and the others returning safely to Knowhere wasn't hard to come by. With one or two planted informants, it was easy to track their movements.
"Your insight is truly unparalleled, Your Majesty. I can't hide anything from you," the High Evolutionary said awkwardly.
His grudge with the Guardians had already reached an irreconcilable stage. Letting his enemies live another day was agony to him.
He was narrow-minded to begin with—as shown in the movie, when Rocket Raccoon easily solved a problem that had long plagued him, not only did he receive no recognition, he was humiliated and punished instead. It spoke volumes about the man's twisted psyche.
His fawning over the powerful and cruelty toward the weak were vividly on display.
"Don't do anything foolish."
Ronan warned in a low voice, "Knowhere operates independently from the Three Galactic Empires because of the force backing the Collector."
"What force?" the High Evolutionary asked in confusion.
"The Galactic Elders Council."
In truth, Ronan wasn't sure how many members the council had.
They were beings with eternal life and unknown reserves of power—not the kind of force one could recklessly provoke.
At present, only two of the Elders were active in the universe: the Collector on Knowhere, and the Grandmaster on Sakaar.
The Collector delighted in acquiring anything of value, while the Grandmaster reveled in the thrill of competitive games.
Of course, the two Elders refrained from interfering in galactic development, which was why the Three Galactic Empires treated them with corresponding respect.
Because of this, Ronan had no desire to stir up unnecessary trouble. He wasn't foolish enough to challenge a group of unfathomably ancient beings.
While the Three Galactic Empires were preoccupied with war, the rest of the galaxy remained relatively peaceful. At least for now, the fighting hadn't spread beyond their territories.
For reasons of prestige, the Three Galactic Empires weren't going to mobilize their vassal civilizations immediately—doing so would make them appear weak and raise doubts about whether their empires were in decline.
…
"The mission just updated!"
In a tavern, a bored bounty hunter suddenly noticed a new mission projection pop up.
"It's the Supreme Racing Cup on Sakaar—why are they holding it earlier than expected?"
"The prize is a million energy credits. I'd love to come in first."
"But the entry fee alone is ten thousand credits. You need an armed racing vehicle just to compete, and there's no guarantee of winning."
"Might as well head to Sakaar to watch and place some bets. Maybe we'll get lucky."
…
The bounty hunters began discussing it excitedly, feeling like it wouldn't hurt to take a trip to Sakaar for some fun while they had nothing else to do.
Sakaar regularly hosted all kinds of competitions, and among them, the Supreme Racing Cup was one of the most famous in the galaxy.
Many advanced civilizations had professional teams dedicated to this event. Winning the million-credit prize was a bonus—the real draw was the glory and potential sponsorship deals.
"Brothers, let's go to Sakaar and try racing!"
Allen made a sudden decision to join the event—and check out Sakaar while he was at it.
With the star gates currently blocked, things had gotten dull on Knowhere. Many bounty hunters were broke and rarely even visited the tavern anymore.
Hundreds of raider teams had returned for downtime, waiting for the blockade to lift.
Maintaining a team was no small expense.
Allen's group wasn't large, and they still had over thirty thousand credits in reserve, so they were doing quite well.
"The Supreme Racing Cup requires an armed combat vehicle. Building one is expensive—minimum starting price is one hundred thousand credits."
Thanos had seen footage of the Cup back on Titan and was somewhat familiar with it.
The cost of an armed racer was comparable to a space fighter.
Allen asked seriously, "Are there any specific requirements?"
"It's pretty simple—it must stay on the ground, no flight capability. Lethal weapons are allowed. Racers are considered to have signed a death waiver. If the driver or vehicle is destroyed, you're out. So, I wouldn't recommend wasting your credits on it," Thanos advised cautiously.
"So there's no mandatory vehicle requirement?" Allen pressed.
"No. You could even ride a wild beast if you wanted."
Hearing that, Allen's eyes lit up. Without hesitation, he said, "We're entering. No question about it. I've got a way to get us a racer."
…
They all knew that once Allen made up his mind, it was basically impossible to change it.
They didn't mind either—just saw it as a road trip.
Knowhere had a direct teleport gate to Sakaar, though it charged a fee—presumably one of the Collector's revenue streams.
After all, with bounty missions suspended and no commission cuts coming in, even if the Collector didn't need to eat, he still had a lot of mouths to feed.