Diplomatic negotiations with the shipgirls turned out to be relatively straightforward.
First, they were naturally pure-hearted and kind, lacking the dirty tricks and schemes common among ordinary politicians.
Second, their interests complemented each other perfectly, so an agreement was reached quickly.
The Port would provide personnel.
Adam would provide land and resources.
Azur Lane would send a vanguard fleet to Earth to help him develop the world.
In return, Adam would grant them certain resource extraction rights, allowing Earth’s oil and mineral resources to support the main Port.
At regular intervals, spacetime passages would be opened to transport materials between the two worlds.
Once the general direction was set, the remaining work involved the finer details of the agreement.
How many people the Port would send, how much of each resource could be extracted each time, and so on.
Adam himself didn’t particularly mind if the shipgirls extracted a little extra, but Enterprise was far too rigorous and serious.
She insisted on calculating every single clause down to the last detail.
She wanted to ensure the agreement was completely fair and just, rather than the Port taking advantage of its strength.
Compared to the Eagle Union of his previous life, the Eagle Union shipgirls here were practically moral exemplars.
And so Adam simply settled in at the Port for the time being, waiting for the shipgirls to finish their deliberations.
While he was at it, he figured he might as well learn more about this world.
…
The next day.
A ray of sunlight slipped through the curtains and into the guest room of the Port.
Adam slowly opened his eyes.
What greeted him was another pair of enormous sins.
Ah…
no.
It was Belfast.
As the head maid of the Royal Navy, she had been fully entrusted with looking after Adam’s daily life here, treating him as an honored guest.
“Mr.
Adam, breakfast is ready.” Belfast leaned down slightly and attended to him as he got up, washed, and ate.
It was a completely novel experience.
In more than twenty years of life, Adam had never encountered a maid this dedicated and competent.
Compared to the cosplayers in maid cafés back home, the difference was night and day.
“Do you have any plans for today?” While he ate, Belfast stood behind him and asked softly.
“Not really.
Enterprise, Yat Sen, Bismarck and the others are still discussing the cooperation agreement.
I was thinking of looking around the Port.” Adam answered.
He was genuinely curious about how the shipgirls lived here, and how much black technology the Azur Lane world actually possessed.
“In that case, shall I show you around?” Belfast gave a slight curtsy.
“Of course.
I’d be glad to.” …
After leaving the main building, the two of them walked side by side along the Port’s roads.
They hadn’t gone far before they ran into Richelieu, so it naturally became a group of three.
Along the way, quite a few little shipgirls secretly followed behind them, peeking out from behind buildings to stare at Adam.
It was exactly like people watching an alien.
“At present the Port has a little over five hundred shipgirls in total, belonging to the nine major fleets: Eagle Union, Royal Navy, Dragon Empery, Iris Libre, Northern Parliament, Sakura Empire, and the others.” “We were born in this world, though we still retain some vague memories of our service periods.” As they walked, Belfast and Richelieu explained things to him.
Every shipgirl corresponded to a real warship that had existed in reality.
Eagle Union ships were American, Royal Navy ships were British, and as for the Dragon Empery…
the presence of Yat Sen, Ning Hai, Ping Hai and the others made their origins obvious.
“You don’t have that many people.” Adam thought it over.
Measured by the scale of a civilization, the population of the Azur Lane world was pitifully small.
Their combat power, however, was anything but.
“Numbers are meaningless.
Advanced technology and tactics are the keys to victory in war.” Richelieu neither agreed nor disagreed.
“With so few people, who handles your logistics and repairs?” Adam asked.
“Simple transport and cleaning work is handled by the Manjuu.” Richelieu reached out and picked up a little yellow chick about thirty centimeters tall from the roadside.
“Don’t let their size fool you.
They’re surprisingly strong.
They can carry torpedoes and naval guns without trouble.” “!” The little yellow chick, held up by the scruff of its neck, flapped its wings wildly in protest.
It looked like a chicken that had been overfed into a perfect round ball.
“Ah, the Azur Lane mascot.
I saw them a couple of days ago.” Adam examined the little chick and decided not to question where its strength came from, or how the shipgirls communicated with it.
“What about construction and repairs?” “The Bulins.
They don’t seem particularly bright, but they’re excellent at maintenance, manufacturing, and other logistical work.” The two of them led Adam to a factory-like building.
Suspended in the open space was a somewhat damaged cruiser.
Its turrets and port side had taken heavy damage…
clearly the hull of some shipgirl undergoing repairs.
“Purin!” “Welcome to the repair dock, purin!
If you have any problems, just ask the Bulins!!” A blonde, red-eyed shipgirl in a short golden dress hopped out to greet them.
In her hands she held two enormous drills that looked ready to pierce the heavens.
Her expression was proud mixed with a certain airheaded quality.
She looked exactly like a little idiot.
“Golden Bulin?!” Adam was genuinely shocked.
In the game, these were the retrofit materials used to raise shipgirl star ratings.
He hadn’t expected them to be in charge of logistics.
Looking around, he saw many more purple Bulins in short white dresses, each holding a giant wrench and hard at work.
Every one of them had a number printed on their chest badge.
“MK-0556?” “You’re Bulin Number 556?” The naming scheme felt strangely familiar.
“Correct, burin!!!
This Bulin’s name is Universal Bulin Number 556!” The purple Bulin cheered.
“There are more than three thousand Bulins in the Port.
They’re responsible for managing the arsenals, as well as repairs and construction.” Richelieu explained.
Unlike shipgirls, who mostly corresponded to unique historical warships, the Bulins all looked identical.
Only their numbers distinguished them.
“The Bulins work very efficiently.
I was once nearly broken down to the keel by the Sirens, and they fixed me in just two or three days.” “When the fleets go on expeditions, they sometimes bring a few Bulins along as well.” Belfast added.
“…” “So they’re basically like construction fairies.” Adam understood.
Well, the shipgirls here didn’t need to eat Bulins to break through and raise their star ratings, so having them handle logistics made perfect sense.
Still, repairing a battleship in two or three days was an astonishing work rate.
Those giant wrenches clearly weren’t just for show.
Looking at this group of super-soldiers among the workforce, Adam felt the infrastructure-building soul inside him burst into flames.
“Can you build highways, high-speed rail, airports, and nuclear power plants?
What about CNC machines, microcontrollers, and chips?” “Burin?” The Bulins stared at him in complete confusion.