Storm

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! One month later, in the northwestern reaches of the Endless Sea, beneath the blazing sun of the Seven Cities Federation, sunlight sparkled over calm, tranquil waters. The roar of salute cannons thundered without end, accompanied by deafening gongs, drums, and firecrackers. Beneath the water gate sprayed by marine fireboats, the Prosperity slowly sailed out of the harbor, following the sea lane heading toward the Mid-Continent. Through loudspeakers broadcasting festive music, a mixed fleet of the Seven Cities Joint Defense Navy circled the Prosperity, seeing it off with joyous fanfare. They escorted it all the way to the outer edge of Seven Cities waters. Even then, they lingered, reluctant to part. "Father, on this journey, you must take care of your health!" On the deck of the Prosperity, the landed plutocrat Minkler was overcome with sorrow at the parting. Clasping Ji Jue's hands, teary-eyed as they looked at each other, he showed endless reluctance and heartfelt yearning to make him stay: "It's only a matter of a few days anyway. Why not stay a little longer in the Seven Cities? That way, I can do my duty as host and fulfill my filial devotion!" Although Ji Jue had anticipated Minkler's shameless antics, the ceaseless barrage of "Father" hurled into his face still left him dizzy and barely able to stomach the bastard. He wanted to punch him. Yet he couldn't bring himself to strike. While Minkler was indeed a dog, he was also genuinely dedicated to groveling. One does not strike a smiling face—especially not a client practically tripping over himself to deliver mountains of cash. "It's rare to see such heartfelt devotion," Ji Jue said after a brief hesitation, finally steeling his resolve. "How about this: I take you with me!" "Ah, this—" Minkler's smile froze. His face twitched, and he instinctively tried to pull his hands back. But Ji Jue had locked onto them with an iron grip. He couldn't pull away. What kind of cesspool was the Mid-Continent? What was the current situation over there? Eking out a living across the Thousand Islands, the Seven Cities functioned as a trade hub, so Minkler knew damn well what it was like. Sailing a fleet straight into the Mid-Continent right now? Ji Jue was bold because he had superior skills, but anyone else doing it had a death wish! "Don't be like this, Father, please don't," Minkler pleaded hurriedly, shaking his head. "I... I still have a family!" "That doesn't matter!" Ji Jue waved a hand dismissively. "Your family can come along too! A family trip—everyone together, neat and complete!" "No, no, definitely next time! Absolutely!" Straining with all his might, Minkler finally wrested his hands free from the craftsman's grip. Wiping cold sweat from his brow, he was still reluctant to leave, leaning closer to whisper, "It's just... about what we agreed on..." "Rest assured, a deal is a deal. There won't be any changes," Ji Jue promised resolutely. "The production lines are already rolling. Once the Military Department's order is fulfilled, the very next batch is heading straight to you!" In the end, they had still underestimated the sheer popularity of the Riot Cat. The moment Haian Tech officially released the news, Ji Jue's phone had blown up with calls. Granted, the Thousand Islands was a chaotic mess with vast disparities; the poor areas were dirt poor, but the rich ones were filthy rich. Especially in these tense days before an impending storm, nearly everyone was ramping up preparations for war and scarcity, pouring obscene amounts of money into upgrading their personal security. Lethality was secondary; when it came to maintaining order and policing, this thing was undeniably effective! Especially in a place like the Seven Cities—where the wealth gap was terrifyingly wide and beat cops could get sniped just walking down the street—equipping a single patrol car or squad with one unit delivered an instant, tangible boost to grassroots control! Full 360-degree, zero-blind-spot surveillance and threat detection; infrared scanning; constant detection of any firearm-shaped objects, with automatic alerts and countermeasures; full-spectrum signal monitoring capable of identifying any suspicious detonation triggers; and a built-in crisis mode that protected the user's life even during point-blank explosions or high-speed impacts from heavy dump trucks... A single key directly connected to dispatch and hospital emergency systems, while a one-touch alarm mode continuously uploaded situation reports. Expensive? Yes, a bit. But once bought, the thing was genuinely useful! If the same budget were handed down as funds, the bottom-feeders below would embezzle ninety-nine percent of it, leaving barely enough to buy a secondhand ballistic vest. Crucially, the point of a bodyguard wasn't actually to protect the employer; it was to make the employer believe they could be protected. Whether for the patrol officers of the Seven Cities or its ordinary citizens, the logic was identical. An order of this scale might seem like an astronomical sum to commoners, but to the Seven Cities—or even just to the family backing Minkler—it was nothing more than loose change slipping through the cracks between their fingers. Over the years, it wasn't as if they hadn't spent fortunes being taken for suckers. If spending money yielded even thirty percent of the promised result, they would thank the heavens. Now, here was a seller willing to supply them at list price with gear that was one hundred percent effective, coupled with years of deep, thoroughly reliable cooperation. How could they not jump at the chance? They had even bought twenty years of membership subscriptions in a single breath! On top of that... "It's just, Father, that thing..." Minkler hesitated, trailing off while his large, expressive eyes fluttered innocently. "You see, our Seven Cities is also planning to expand the urban area lately, so our industrial demand is booming. Those exoskeletons you sent before... don't worry, we won't take them for free. We're willing to pay this much." He leaned in casually and slid five fingers out from his sleeve. Not fifty, five hundred, or five thousand. Five times the price! At this critical juncture, production capacities everywhere were stretched to the limit. Queues stretched everywhere; you couldn't even buy a tractor off the lot! So long as Haian could deliver, Seven Cities didn't care about free shipping—they were ready to camp outside Xinquan overnight and haul the chassis back on their own shoulders! "Oh my, look at me, I almost forgot." Ji Jue slapped his forehead, putting on a troubled expression. "We're all old friends. If you have industrial needs, Haian is naturally willing to help. However, Haian is a private enterprise after all. Lately, some of our industrial exoskeletons have been popping up in the Thousand Islands' armed forces. If word spreads, the optics would be really bad!" "What are you talking about?!" Minkler bristled, eyes widening as he declared indignantly, "Reporters nowadays have no conscience! They'll say anything for clicks. Those were all salvaged by us from the sea—they didn't even have logos or markings! How could anyone claim they came from Haian?" "Well, if they were salvaged, there's nothing anyone can do," Ji Jue sighed ruefully. "The seas have been rather rough lately. Let me check for you... Hmm, here, and here. You might be able to salvage quite a few around those coordinates." With that, the two exchanged coordinates and delivery schedules. One final handshake, and both broke into broad, synchronized grins. The reluctance was gone; the yearning was gone. All that remained was bright anticipation and fond longing for the future. Farewell, friend! How sweet the sorrow of parting! Finally, right before the gangplank, Minkler grabbed Ji Jue's hands once more in sorrowful farewell. Silently, he slipped a bank card into Ji Jue's palm. "Take good care of yourself on this journey, Father! This is just a token of our regard, to buy you some tonics and supplements. It's a modest gift—please don't refuse!" "Oh... oh, my, really..." Ji Jue couldn't suppress the curling of his lips, his smile turning ever more cordial. "You're making me blush." This trip to the Seven Cities had yielded a lavish haul. The Prosperity's cargo holds were crammed with mountains of discarded alchemical goods gifted by Minkler, while massive sums flowed into Ji Jue's accounts in a ceaseless stream. A feast of pure profit. The only one suffering was Lou Feng, abandoned back in Xinquan, desperately holding together a makeshift operation twenty-four hours a day, coughing blood to keep up with deliveries. There was no helping it; times were unusual, and Xinquan needed growth. Lou Feng can bear the hardship, while I, Ji Jue, will shoulder the blame! Our business is flourishing, Old Lou! The faster you turn the millstone, the richer we get! At a juncture like this, if you don't work yourself to the bone, are you going to wait until the market is saturated to engage in a rat race? In just a single month, going from the Riot Cat's unveiling to mass production, Ji Jue had been so busy he barely got eight hours of sleep. Yet rival products had already been developed from scratch and were fighting for market share! Never mind their degree of polish or whether they worked well; churning out so many new products within a month must have worked legions of engineers and designers bald. There was no avoiding it—baldness was the price of opportunity. The wind was blowing, and everyone wanted a piece of the pie. Everyone was clawing for it. Chonghui Industry rolled out a new anti-riot armored vehicle; Echo, after reorganizing in Dongcheng, took the lead in launching explosive-ordnance-disposal robotic hounds; Tiancheng released emergency rescue automata and protective armor; and drones evolved with dizzying variety. To snatch the Military Department's contracts and claim market share outside, firms fought tooth and nail, tearing off all polite pretenses and resorting to every trick in the book. If not for Midtown's heavy-handed suppression, another endurance rally might have broken out. Ordinary people might not have noticed yet, but the executives of the corporations involved could clearly sense that the entire Federation was gradually shifting onto a war footing! The big one was coming. Just how big would it be? When would it hit? No one knew—perhaps not even the senators brawling and nearly coming to blows in the Midtown Senate. Amid the fog of uncertainty and the allure of potential profit, wave after wave of overt and covert power struggles raged, sweeping even Haian into the fray. In just one month, special investigation teams from Midtown had arrived in three waves and inspected them seven times! The kind of inspection where they checked the soles of your shoes! Had Ji Jue not proactively relocated the riskiest production lines to Punabantu—manufacturing offshore and shipping offshore—he might well have been dragged out and strung up on a wall as an example. At such a juncture, heading to the Mid-Continent as a representative of Haichao Armaments was hardly good timing. No matter how colossal the market was, countless predators lurked beneath the murky waters, waiting to tear each other apart. Plunging in blindly could leave one without even bones to bury. Besides, the precedent was already there... This moment was just like that one. Lyu Yingyue's move led countless observers to believe she intended to replay her old tricks—seizing the chance to crack open the Mid-Continent market with Ji Jue serving once again as her expendable vanguard, clearing the way ahead. Little did they know that Ji Jue was merely a self-funded decoy, good for nothing except drawing eyes, aggro, and enemy fire. One could only say Lyu Yingyue was back to tossing babies around for fun! And on the Wild Gathering, the bounty on Ji Jue had hit a new record high. Even Chen Xingzhou had called him to drop subtle warnings. The Mid-Continent was nothing like the Federation, or even the Thousand Islands. That was an authentic Age of the White Stag! If nothing else, across thirty-one branches of the Wild Gathering, the average tenure of successive local Dragon Heads in the Mid-Continent was less than five years. The rate of turnover was horrifying; those who peacefully served out their terms were few and far between. If he drew too much hatred onto himself, he wouldn't even know how he died. Ji Jue didn't need Chen Xingzhou to remind him; he had prepared precautions long beforehand. From the moment he set out, he had never stepped off the Prosperity. Even when the Seven Cities extended banquets and invitations, he hadn't taken a single step outside his "workshop." He put on a display of utmost prudence and vigilance. The acting was in full swing! Throughout the voyage, he had only stopped briefly at the Seven Cities to resupply freshwater and phlogiston and offload some equipment and inventory. Then, fully laden with Riot Cats destined for the Mid-Continent, the Prosperity surged straight toward its destination. Traveling through the starry nights. It had even deliberately bypassed most transit stations, alternating between bursts of speed and crawling paces, keeping everyone in the dark about its progress and location. In a mere three days, it was nearing the maritime waters of the Mid-Continent. With good speed, it would reach the Federation garrison base by tomorrow noon—a site that had once been one of the greatest metropolises in the Mid-Continent. The jewel of the wastelands that once outshone all else, now the most chaotic region in southern Mid-Continent, the capital of the White Nation before its collapse—Taivo. In the language of the Mid-Continent, Taivo meant "tower." Before the White Nation crumbled, more than a third of the Mid-Continent's wealth had converged here. Countless white towers adorned with gold earned it the name City of Ten Thousand Towers. Now, the White Nation was gone, the gold vanished, and the towers shattered into ruins, leaving behind only a barren battleground racked by endless war and refugee slums stretching beyond the horizon. Yet to the Federation, even a slum built on ruins was an undeniable city of gold. Every day, vast quantities of phlogiston were loaded onto ships and transported continuously to the Federation, feeding its insatiable consumption and greed. Under the surge of capital, magnificent districts rose anew from the rubble, reconstructed from scratch. Regrettably, none of it belonged to the people of the Mid-Continent anymore. Arms dealers, energy conglomerates, luxury merchants, fixers, middlemen, spies, assassins, the Empire's Secret Service, the Federation Security Bureau, the Federation Military Department, the Empire's Seven Stars Tower—unless you had serious business or lethal skills, you wouldn't dare step foot in here! The demographic makeup was an eye-opening kaleidoscope! Ji Jue flipped through intelligence on Taivo on his phone, highlighting key points, and habitually ordered, "Isis, help me—" His words trailed off, and he let out a self-deprecating chuckle. A rigid, mechanical voice answered, confirming that the checklist had been updated. Regrettably, it was no longer Isis, but a temporary assistant substitute Ji Jue had casually thrown together using the Lou family's investment during the brief gap while Isis underwent her remaking. Its functionality was adequate, but in nuance and attentiveness, it fell vastly short. There wasn't even anyone to bicker with him. Not good—he was actually starting to miss that workshop spirit of his, the one who loved being rebellious and bullying her master. No, a craftsman must stay vigilant against a Spirit of Creation gaslighting him! Lost in his wandering thoughts, he ended up amusing himself. Ji Jue shook his head, put his phone down, and prepared to resume his modification work, but his movements suddenly froze. Was that the wind picking up? Under a cloudless, clear night sky, ripples formed across the sea's surface. Immediately after, at the edge of the firmament, a dark cloud silently materialized. The placid sea grew turbulent, and the waves turned savage in the howling wind. Steel collided with surges, grinding out thundering roars. The vast, eerie expanse between sea and sky seemed to shrink under the pressing pall of dark clouds, suffocatingly narrow, like a violently shaking box. Inside the box, atop the churning waves, the Prosperity tossed like a lone leaf, pitching and plunging violently. It felt practically like riding a roller coaster! A raging tempest bore down without warning! Ji Jue turned back toward the monitor before him—the weather forecast clearly read: [Clear]. BOOM! In an earth-shattering roar, savage lightning slashed across sea and sky, narrowly grazing past the Prosperity. Under the electromagnetic shockwave, numerous instruments blared alarms, and lights flickered erratically. Right on its heels, the dutiful sonar system issued a warning: [Massive swarm of unidentified objects approaching] "A storm?" Inside the Mid-Continent Security Bureau's station in Taivo, Tong Shan frowned and looked at his subordinate. "When?" "Just now. The satellite department detected an air mass that formed instantaneously with zero warning." The surveillance operator wiped sweat from his forehead, staring intently at the fresh feed on his screen and a flashing red-bordered alert. He swallowed hard with a parched throat. "Massive clusters of danger signals detected. Suspected calamity beast swarm riot... Spiritus signal identified: [Sea Locusts]!" "Tsk..." Tong Shan's expression darkened as he stared at the screen. Beneath the colossal pale cloud mass, scarlet dots flickered into existence, closing around a solitary vessel sailing innocently toward death. The Prosperity's beacon flickered, then was swallowed whole by the clouds. It vanished from sight.