"No. Not doing it. Not going..." When the Little Prince spoke again, his throat sounded completely drained of strength. The words barely made a sound as he shook his head, his eyes fixed on Wen Jifei in agonized pain.
Wen Jifei looked back at him. From the moment the Little Prince had spoken those words until now, that matter remained known only to the two of them.
If only neither of them spoke of it.
They still had the chance to leave Antarctica by ship.
Yet two seconds later, beneath the Little Prince's helpless, pleading gaze, Wen Jifei suddenly bared his teeth in a grin.
It was a bitter, miserable, ugly smile. Once it faded, Plague Chicken's lips trembled, and he pressed them firmly together.
Even so, one could still see in his face and eyes the immense torment churning within, along with an unbearable, crushing weight.
*Why? Why does it have to be me, Qingzi? Why do I have to be the one to make a decision like this?! What the hell are you doing? Come back already...*
Ever since Qingzi lost his memories, Wen Jifei had shouldered Stream Blades all on his own. In all that time, this was the first time he wanted to resent him, the first time he wanted to run away.
When people fell into helplessness, they instinctively searched for a pillar to lean on... Turning his head without thinking, Wen Jifei quickly found Han Qingyu standing at the edge of the crowd.
The blank gazes of the others followed his, turning as one toward Han Qingyu—just as they used to do, always waiting for his final decision.
Qingzi was the one who was supposed to make the decisions. He had the strength for it and never hesitated. His will was iron, calm to the point of being cold and decisive. He had always been that way.
Because he was Han Qingyu.
Every decision he had ever made, he could carry on his own shoulders.
Wen Jifei couldn't. No matter how wise and calculating he was, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much courage and sense of duty he had, he simply could not do it. It was an unbridgeable divide.
The Stream Blades of today was still a fierce beast, but it was a beast without a king.
Yet at this moment, there was still no trace of that old bastard in Qingzi's eyes... There was only complete bewilderment, helplessness, care, and concern.
"What's wrong?" Han Qingyu asked worriedly, his tone just like that of their school days.
From the bizarre exchange between the Little Prince and Plague Chicken just now, paired with the look in Wen Jifei's eyes, Han Qingyu did not understand the details, but he knew something monumental—something with grave consequences—was about to happen.
Plague Chicken looked as though he could barely hold himself up.
And he seemed powerless to do anything.
Aside from continuing to nurse that strange stirring deep within his heart, provoked by the molten depths of the crater, cautiously waiting to see what it would do.
"Nothing. Actually, I know what you'd do if it were you... I'm just being a bit of a coward." Wen Jifei managed a genuine smile this time, signaling Han Qingyu not to worry, before turning back around.
"Spit it out, no matter what it is," Commander Storm spoke up on behalf of everyone from among the legion leaders of Stream Blades.
...
"Can we try sending someone over? Send someone to beg them to do it—beg them to give our comrades in Antarctica and this world one last shred of hope."
In the Council hall at Azure Headquarters, the councilman's eyes were bloodshot and brimming with tears as he spoke.
No one could judge whether his emotional state and this plea were right or wrong, because that truly was the final straw to grasp at.
However, most present understood that he did not understand the battlefield.
"No one can get through. Even Pegmont would likely struggle," a councilman from the military department stood and said. "If we want to reach them now, our only choice is to broadcast a message directly to them over the Rejectors' public channel. I doubt they'd have that shut off too."
Those words sent a jolt through many people in the room.
It did seem like a solution, and indeed the only feasible one left.
Yet if they chose to do that... it would mean Azure publicly wielding the millions of soldiers in Antarctica—and even the six billion people across the world—to pressure Stream Blades, forcing them to go to their deaths.
The hall fell dead silent. Every pair of eyes turned toward Chairman Kemore on the dais, waiting.
Eyes lightly closed, Chairman Kemore remained silent for over a minute... perhaps nearly two minutes before he finally opened them and spoke slowly:
"The proposal... is rejected."
Beneath the table, the frail old man clenched his fists and spoke in a voice somewhat hoarse, flat yet resolute.
"That's the same as giving up! Are we giving up?! Giving up the Antarctic battlefield, giving up hope, giving up humanity's future... No! I demand a vote! I formally request a vote by the entire council!" the councilman cried out, tears streaming down his face.
"...This is the decision of the presidium." Kemore ultimately averted his gaze from the council members, lowering his head and clenching his teeth, saying not another word.
The chamber plunged into gloom and despair.
In truth, the entire human world was currently shrouded in gloom. The optimism from before the war and its opening days had long since been shattered to pieces.
Even if subsequent reports by the Rejectors hadn't explicitly laid out the current battlefield situation, military commanders in the civilian world could analyze it, journalists could analyze it...
Perhaps their analysis wasn't even needed, for the general public could already grasp the grim reality. After all, blood and death were always so brutally visceral.
It was merely that the six billion ordinary people had not yet been told the true extent of the despair on the battlefield, just as they had not been told where the sole remaining hope lay.
They hadn't even received any news of Stream Blades today, beyond what had been known earlier: an isolated force of a mere seven thousand, heading toward the eastern front.
In Fenglong'ao, the silence before the television set in the Han family home had lasted for a long time.
"Don't be afraid. At times like this, no news is good news."
An elder from the village did his best to offer the age-old piece of wisdom in the local dialect.
...
On the Antarctic battlefield, eastern front, near the coastline in the Mount Erebus region.
"...That's the situation. A chance to go die. Now we have to make a choice." Finished speaking, Wen Jifei went quiet and looked at the leaders of the legions before him.
A brief silence settled over them.
"...How about you preach some grand principles to us?" The bald Commander Gu Zhazha offered a rueful, childlike smile. "Without hearing some high-and-mighty talk, damn it all, I just can't bear to throw my own life away."
Hearing him say that, the people beside him cracked smiles as well.
"Isn't it obvious? If we don't go, the whole world is probably finished. When the nest is overturned, can any egg remain unbroken?" Commander He Guang from Huaxia said on Wen Jifei's behalf.
"What's that supposed to mean?" a group of foreigners beside him asked.
"Uh... basically, our balls are smashed either way—it's just a matter of sooner or later. But if we're willing to step up and let ours get smashed first, maybe the whole world won't be completely crushed," Commander He Guang did his best to explain.
"...Don't get it."
"Yeah, makes no sense."
"What's this got to do with my balls? Even if I die, no fucking Great Spike is getting a swing at my balls..."
The commanders pondered their own balls and couldn't make the connection no matter what. Their eyes turned back to Wen Jifei.
In truth, the logic was simple enough: in the face of this catastrophe, humanity was ultimately a single entity.
In fact, not a single person present truly failed to grasp the reasoning behind it.
They were simply so accustomed to acting like scoundrels and villains that they didn't want to suddenly appear righteous and noble.
Empty words like 'for the Antarctic battlefield', 'for Azure's million-strong army', or 'for the hope and future of all mankind' made their stomachs turn just thinking about them.
"Grand principles... I don't think I can preach them either. You lot have corrupted me; just thinking about it makes me want to laugh." Wen Jifei took the unlit cigarette from his mouth, blew out a breath, and said, "Honestly, if you ask me what's on my mind most right now... I'd say bad luck."
"Fucking rotten luck!"
"Eight lifetimes of damned awful luck!"
"Why the hell does it have to be us here? Why?! Why couldn't those dogshit Great Spikes just stay put and guard their defense line instead of running all over the place..."
Wen Jifei roared and cursed at the top of his lungs, venting the suffocating pressure and rage in his chest.
"Yeah, fucking rotten luck," everyone readily agreed, yet their eyes remained on Wen Jifei.
"Fine. My future wife is on the Antarctic Peninsula, and she might be dying," Wen Jifei finally spat out plainly.
Aside from the few members of the core team, everyone else froze. They hadn't known about this before, but now they did.
Then, as if having found a perfectly good excuse, they began to chuckle openly.
"My parents are back home, each in their own houses. They got divorced and started new families, so I have a younger brother and a younger sister. Both are still little, and I'm not that close with them. Funnily enough, Yao Yue's mom was my elementary school homeroom teacher, and she even beat my ass back then. When I lived on my own, my next-door neighbor was an old man with no kids who sold fried dough sticks. I was pretty close with him. His wife was paralyzed in bed—for six years, as far back as I can remember. I don't know if she's still around, but if she is, when the Great Spikes push back there, those two probably won't even be able to run..."
Wen Jifei kept talking.
"Good. Those are good reasons," Commander Storm, rarely this talkative, spoke up again. "Come to think of it, before this expedition, my woman... seemed to be expecting. Even asked me if I'd marry her when I get back."
"Then you're way behind! I've already married three wives, and my youngest son is already four," Gu Zhazha said with a smug grin.
"So your balls stopped working for the past four years?" Commander Storm shot back.
Laughter erupted across the group. Amid the laughter—
"I went back to my hometown last time... My old man's still in good health. Might even make it to a hundred," Commander He Guang said with a smile.
"..."
"Uh," He Tangtang suddenly raised a hand. "That Nisha... you guys remember her, right? The one I met on the peninsula. I actually really like her."
Everyone turned to look at him. They just stared, not saying a word.
This silence lasted for nearly ten seconds.
Ten seconds later.
"Go tell that Senior Colonel Tong," Commander Storm—the true backbone among the various legion leaders—turned around and said to a communications officer, "tell him we appreciate the sentiment, but there's no need for them to come."
Chapter 801