Pirates Must Be Suppressed!

It was not until the fleet had sailed out of the harbor in grand formation and reached open water that most of the ordinary soldiers finally realized what was happening. Bandit suppression. None of them even knew where the damn bandits were! Still, if you say we're suppressing bandits, then sure, we'll suppress bandits… In any case, given how useless we are, I'd eat my hat if we actually managed to pull it off. On the other hand, what if we actually did? Wouldn't that be a win? Besides, Minkler had vanished for a few days only to return as the King of Xiangzhou and head of the Chopra family. The news was so mind-boggling that it spread like wildfire through the entire fleet within minutes. Wild rumors and wilder theories began running rampant—tales of a three-year pact, the return of an exiled king, a despised live-in son-in-law suddenly showing his teeth—leaving Ji Jue laughing so hard he nearly doubled over. For most of the men, however, the prevailing emotion was relief and celebration. Things were looking up! Weren't their days about to get a whole lot better? The fleet commander had become the fabulously wealthy King of Xiangzhou. How could their future be anything but bright? Even if Minkler knew it, the higher-ups of the seven families understood it, and the Chopra siblings were well aware of it—that this title of family head was nothing more than cannon fodder! Except the cannon fodder themselves had no idea! Besides, even cannon fodder came in different tiers. Some could see their entire families wiped out without a single soul sparing a glance, while others were like lavishly gilded victory trophies—dazzling to behold, with nothing about them resembling a cheap firecracker about to snap. Just as everyone assumed whoever pulled the sword from the stone was rightful emperor—if a soggy woman in a lake handed you a blade, you were the king by Heaven's Mandate. Since everyone said so, it didn't seem so strange after all. Thus, the vast majority of the crew had only one reaction upon seeing Minkler's ring! What? Head of the family? Holy shit, holy fucking shit, the Major General is an absolute powerhouse! Brothers, we ride with you! As for the shrewd ones, the quick thinkers, the ones who wanted nothing to do with it… they had no choice either. Swept along by the crowd, once they boarded the ships against their will, it was already too late. There was zero opportunity to send word or contact anyone outside. In fact, even slacking off was impossible! Because this goddamned ship was piloting itself! It required no spiritus authentication from the captain, no security keys issued by the council, and not even coordination between different departments. As though it had sprouted a mind of its own, the fleet moved in silky-smooth harmony, shifting into formations across the waves—one moment snaking in an S-curve, the next breaking into an elaborate B-shape, flaunting dazzlingly complex maneuvers that looked downright terrifying. Under these circumstances, anyone looking to jump ship could only do so in the most literal sense. Splash. As if slipping by accident over the railing, someone truly took the plunge. Before anyone could cry out or mount a rescue, a tremendous boom shattered the air. Boom! Without manual control, authorization, or any apparent command, the close-in weapon system on deck suddenly twitched around in a half-circle. With exquisite precision, a single burst ripped across the sea, sending a blossom of blood erupting across the distant surface. In an instant, right before everyone's eyes, the figure bobbing in the waves vanished. Under the greeting of thirty-millimeter rounds, the character returned immediately to the Endless Sea gacha pool, converted cleanly into character shards. Shredded so thoroughly that a master flatbread-crumber would nod in approval. Only then did a belated announcement drift through the PA system into everyone's ears—"Keep on your toes, everyone! We just upgraded the radar system, and the sensitivity was accidentally cranked a little too high. Anything in a target box gets an automatic sweep, so please don't do anything that might give the system the wrong idea!" And so, a dozen-odd armed transport vessels—cobbled together with crude armor, machine guns, and second-hand naval guns—flanked by three multinational frigates and two decrepit destroyers that had served as floating decorations for decades, advanced grandly between sea and sky. At a glance, it looked magnificent. With some stirring background music and snappy editing, it might even pass for a decent recruitment reel. A shiny turd on the surface: as long as nobody fired a gun, who would ever know the radar was a castrated mock-up, fire control was run off a computer mouse, and maintenance relied entirely on superstitious prayers and kowtows? Yet right now, everyone felt a startling shift: the ugly duckling had turned into a swan, entirely unlike before! Whether it was the battered, unresponsive systems, the endless stream of error prompts, the engines prone to conking out after a few hundred nautical miles, or the electrical circuits liable to blow fuses under load—miraculously, not a single one acted up. Everything ran with buttery perfection, as if fresh off a high-end factory line. The operational noise was so unbelievably low that chief engineers and deckhands were moved almost to tears. According to the bridge consoles, they were sailing peacefully over azure waters, venturing ever outward on a bandit-suppression run, leisurely riding the wind and cleaving the waves. Yet the crew on deck couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was off. The heading seemed subtly wrong, but what did it matter? Could satellite navigation lie to them? Unfortunately, yes. Given the Seven Cities' level of development, aerospace research was out of the question; all satellite services were leased at exorbitant rates from the Empire and the Federation. Ji Jue didn't have the power to tamper with Imperial or Federal satellites. But if he couldn't alter the satellites, couldn't he alter the ships? Long before leaving port, Ji Jue had completely overwritten the identification codes of every single vessel. In the eyes of the satellites, the grand fleet patrolling out of the harbor was merely the fishing flotilla of an ordinary fishery firm. Meanwhile, the positional readings displayed across all onboard equipment had been shifted as well. Consequently, no one noticed that after making a wide arc across the sea, they were barreling straight toward Xiangzhou. Faint silhouettes of an island had already emerged in the distance, yet the monitors inside the electronic cabins depicted nothing of its bustling grandeur—only a barren, uninhabited atoll. "Decks cleared. All combat personnel in position." Minkler sent his final text message, lowered his head, and lit the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, inhaling deeply. He savored this final wisp of ease and relaxation. So delightful. He said, "Open fire." In that split second, the order cascaded down the chain of command, confirmed layer by layer. Gun barrels aligned with the inputted coordinates, rounds loaded, breeches locked. And then… Boom! In the span of a heartbeat, the cannons thundered in unison. Firepower of a ferocity the Joint Defense Fleet had never witnessed since its founding erupted like a deluge. Six main batteries and eleven secondary guns unleashed hell simultaneously. Aided by tracking that was practically cheating, the shells crossed more than a dozen kilometers in mere moments, raining down with nightmarish accuracy upon that secluded harbor dock. Towers of terrifying flame erupted from the distant island, visible to the naked eye. Plumes of billowing smoke surged toward the heavens. The thunderous roar and shockwaves instantly engulfed all of Xiangzhou, striking everyone dumb. People turned their heads in dazed confusion toward the rising smoke, completely unable to process what was happening. Had a factory exploded? While everyone was paralyzed in bewilderment, another series of earthshaking detonations erupted. Fireballs burst forth once more, and blood-red smoke coiled into the sky like colossal dancing serpents. "Splendid! Another volley! Give them another!" Minkler waved his arms, laughing hysterically, rocking back and forth. Another thunderous blast erupted. Under the relentless bombardment of alchemical artillery shells, the entire dock had long been reduced to a sunken ruin. The churning seawater boiled, and under the shroud of blazing light, everything burned like an inferno. Inside that inferno, Butler Xu's vision swam with darkness. He was tossed into the air like a dry leaf, rolling, buried by rubble, only to crawl out in wretched agony. The crisp shattering of blessed creations echoed endlessly. Those artillery shells seemed to be hunting him personally—some of them even bent their trajectories midair! Caught in a storm of shrapnel, this Celestial Chosen—who had hidden his true prowess for years—did not even have time to flee before suffering devastating wounds, turning into a walking mass of gore. Agony tore through every inch of his body. When he looked down, a frantic shriek tore from his throat. "My legs… my legs… my legs!" It wasn't just his legs. Everything below his chest had been ground into paste. He could only feebly drag his ruptured organs through the flames, thrashing and howling. "Minkler! Minkler! You crazy bastard, you've lost your fucking mind!" he cursed in a frenzy, his voice cracking. "You're digging your own grave! You and that bitch of a mother will die a dog's death! You—" "Well, who knows?" An unexpected voice cut through the air. From the shattered half of a phone lying before him, amidst static and crackle, a distant reply emerged. Unbothered by the venomous curses, the voice merely gave a faint laugh. "Everyone dies in the end, Butler Xu. Dogs are no different. Now, it's your turn—" Minkler offered a final farewell: "—Remember to give my regards to Father." Boom! Reflected in those dilated pupils, a black dot expanded rapidly—growing larger, larger, and larger. A glowing-red warhead screamed across the distance, hurtling forward in the most literal sense. It slammed directly into the mouth that had instinctively opened to spit another curse. Click— In his final hallucination, the fuse ignited. Detonation! Countless shreds of flesh and bone were reduced to ash in the explosion, raining down into the fire, erasing all traces of that hypocritical smile and grotesque malice. The footage transmitted by the drone faithfully played out before Minkler. Minkler gazed at it in silence, his thoughts inscrutable. After a long while, he let out a quiet sigh. Almost regretful. He had died too quickly. What a shame. "Thanks," he said to Ji Jue. Ji Jue glanced at him. "You're thanking me too early." The words had barely left his mouth when a buzzing drone returned, dropping a small silver metallic plate. Ji Jue caught it, examined it briefly, and tossed it into Minkler's lap. "What's this?" Minkler asked, puzzled. "Oh, that fellow's soul and consciousness. It's a bit fragmented, but it can still be pieced together." Ji Jue said, "You didn't look like you had quite enough fun. If you get any creative ideas later, fiddle with it yourself." "Ha—" Minkler couldn't help but grin, tucking it away against his chest. Indeed, he had thanked him too early. Still, as he stared at Xiangzhou Island descending into chaos, a hollow pang lingered within him. It felt as though something was missing, as if the flavor wasn't quite right. "Feels like it's missing a little something, doesn't it?" "Indeed," Ji Jue agreed, nodding. "Got any good ideas?" "Look at that mountaintop. That's the Chopra ancestral manor. Supposedly, it's been under construction for over two hundred years and still isn't finished. The old bastard's life work. Gilded and magnificent, like an emperor's palace." Minkler sighed with nostalgia, then suddenly asked, "Don't you think… it would be terribly impolite to pass right by the front door without saying hello?" "Indeed," Ji Jue said, nodding. "Terribly impolite." You've already called me brother, so what else needs to be said? How could a warmhearted, helpful person like himself allow such bad manners to occur? With that, he raised his hand, pointing from afar toward the highest point of those opulent halls. Then, he gave a gentle shove… Amidst a deafening roar, a towering clock tower that looked cast from pure gold snapped clean in two! The majestic chime meant to announce high noon dissolved into a shrill, panicked wail. A howling beam of blazing light pierced effortlessly through the defensive barriers that flared up one after another, erupting violently to snap the high tower and shatter its golden dial, sending it crashing toward the earth. Dust billowed, thunderous crashes echoed, and ear-piercing screams and alarms rang through the palace. In the midst of the sudden turmoil, a roar of incandescent fury seemed to reverberate. The swirling dust abruptly parted as an indistinct silhouette soared into the air. A colossal, centipede-like body coiled above Xiangzhou—majestic, terrifying, and brutal. Numb human faces opened across its striped carapace as the man-made spirit writhed in frenzied rage. The House God had awakened amidst the attack. It took to the sky! Almost like a teleportation, it materialized out of thin air directly above the fleet. Beneath the abruptly darkened sky, a massive face resembling a rotting human countenance leaned downward, its hollow eyes brimming with venom, poised to devour all in sight. Then, it saw Minkler's raised palm. And the token of the family head. Nothing to see here. Go on back. For a moment, a remarkably innocent bewilderment surfaced in those venomous eyes—Someone attacked the family; protect the house head. But the one attacking the family IS the house head; so do I still protect the family? Is this right? Right, right… no, wrong, wrong… Trapped in a bizarre loop of cognitive dissonance, the House God's train of thought jammed completely. Dumbfounded as a wooden chicken, it turned around, drifted back, and melted back into Xiangzhou, vanishing without a trace. Sensing the House God's empty-handed retreat and catching those garbled, shrill, eerie whispers, Boggio—who had sprinted out from the reception parlor—finally realized what had happened. Standing on the terrace, staring at the distant silhouette of the fleet, he bellowed in fury: "Minkler!" There was no answer, save for the dying resonance of the fallen bell's mournful toll. Like a greeting delivered by a prodigal son. "Everyone, I'm back!" Having delivered its greeting, the Joint Defense Fleet turned around and departed, disappearing into the glistening waves. Having vented a breath of spite, Minkler had no intention of sticking around to grind down Boggio. The fleet altered course, heading straight for its true objective. Bandit suppression, bandit suppression—they hadn't even begun suppressing any bandits yet! Rather than a mere greeting, that cannon shot had served as the entire fleet's pledge of allegiance to him as the acting family head! While the clueless fools were still cheering, marveling at how absurdly powerful the cannons were, those who actually grasped the situation felt their hearts sink straight to the bottom. They were finished! Utterly, completely finished! With those few rounds fired, every single soul in the fleet, from top to bottom, had burned their bridges behind them! If Minkler failed, every last one of them would be purged—not a single one would escape a gruesome death! Even if the new head of the Chopra family spent centuries eating vegetarian meals and chanting sutras, overflowing with boundless mercy, he would never allow the trash who had bombarded their ancestral island to remain alive! Extenuating circumstances? Save them for hell! Forget the Chopra family; even the other six islands would never forgive such open rebellion. No patron, no matter how powerful, would grant them amnesty. Besides, if they had any significant backing to begin with, would they have ended up rotting in the Joint Defense Fleet in the first place? Things had come to this. There was only one path left… Sensing the faint, mocking smile in the gaze that swept across them, everyone on the flagship's bridge trembled in terror. They snapped to their feet, stomped the deck in a salute, and roared at the top of their lungs: "—Loyalty!" "Good. Very good." Minkler smiled and nodded gently. "We're all brothers here. We share glory, and we share ruin. Why stand on ceremony?" In the silence, everyone bowed their heads in submission. Minkler let out a silent chuckle. Only at this very moment had the entire Joint Defense Fleet truly fallen into his grasp. Standing behind Minkler with his hands clasped behind his back, Ji Jue watched the scene and asked curiously, "Satisfied now, Minkler?" "What kind of nonsense is that?" Minkler laughed. "If this was all, it wouldn't be nearly enough, would it?" "Indeed." Ji Jue nodded, sighing as if moved. "After sending a greeting like that, if you do nothing else, it will inevitably provoke the full retaliation of the Chopra family. If you just sit around waiting to die, your end will be horrifying to behold. What should we do then, Minkler? Do you have any bright ideas?" Minkler nodded. "Naturally, I have to do something." "Indeed. And what will that be?" "Something that everyone hopes someone will do." Minkler caught his drift, casting his gaze down at the faint glow of the ring on his finger. "Something that requires me to act on behalf of the Chopra family." In that case… Among the Seven Cities right now, which family had made the most extensive covert preparations, held the strongest hand, possessed the filthiest record, posed the greatest threat to everyone else, and was the one everyone wished would suffer a catastrophic blow? He raised a finger and tapped the symbol for Luocheng on the map, sighing with emotion. "These bandits have truly made the innocent people of the Seven Cities suffer terribly." "Then what are you waiting for, General?" From the shadows behind him, Ji Jue's eyes widened in righteous indignation. "To right what is wrong, to comfort the suffering and punish the guilty—the time is now!" Righting wrongs or courting death? Punishing the guilty or seeking self-destruction? None of it mattered. Minkler lowered his eyes, gazing calmly at the course plotted on the nautical chart. Suddenly, he felt it… how marvelous the flames scorching his body were. It was as though, from the depths of entrapment, a door had opened to a brand-new world. Suddenly, the old world seemed completely different, revealing a fresh face that abandoned its past coldness and contempt to cheer and applaud him instead. When heaven and earth were this vast, why had he never noticed before? With so many vibrant dead ends and spectacular hells ahead, how could anyone claim there was no road left to walk, no place left to stand? "Signal the fleet: full speed ahead." The commander's voice rang in everyone's ears. "Once we wipe out that rabble, I won't take a single coin. Everything we seize will belong entirely to the men who fought. Every man earns credit; every man gets a reward!" Instantly, cheers of wild ecstasy rose like a tidal wave, fighting spirit soaring to a fever pitch! * Half an hour later, by the time the Chopra family's emergency bulletin reached the upper echelons of the Seven Cities, it was already too late. Before anyone could make sense of what had transpired, another piece of dreadful news arrived. Minkler—whom Boggio had described as utterly out of control and completely deranged—along with his Joint Defense Fleet, had already surfaced on the easternmost edge of the Seven Cities' waters. Before shutting down radio communications, Commander Minkler transmitted one final message to the Seven Cities Council: "Our fleet has spotted wanted pirates and fugitives. We are initiating an attack to uphold the laws of the Seven Cities!" And then, they charged headlong toward the elite private troops of Luocheng's Sukarno family—a pirate fleet returning home laden with plunder… On behalf of the Seven Cities, on behalf of everyone, and on behalf of the Chopra family! Flashing straight into a teamfight!