Carnival of the Flies

On November 7, Luo Island fell into silence. The bustling prosperity of the past was nowhere to be seen; amidst the bleak desolation, everything seemed to have returned to its most primitive state. The once crowded downtown was now empty. The bustling shopping streets and malls had all lowered their shutters and extinguished their lights, devoid even of cleaners, leaving only shredded paper and trash twitching feebly in the wind along the ground. The Pestilent Wind had arrived, plunging the entire Endless Sea into an unprecedented silence. It was like tossing and turning in the dark after lights out during an endless night, listening anxiously to every slight rustle outside the window, constantly on edge and jumping at shadows. Bad news followed in rapid succession. Just yesterday, in the south of the Endless Sea, the famous "Free City" had completely collapsed... That offshore town, cobbled together years ago by oil workers using scrap drilling rigs, had undergone rebirth after untold years of expansion and renovation. With its exceptional open-door laws, it had become the world's largest corporate registry. No matter where you came from or who you were, paying one hundred and fifty thousand was enough to obtain a shell company recognized by most sovereign city-states of the mortal world. Driven by various factors and blessed with unmatched conditions, it had served as an operational fulcrum and money laundering hub for countless sums of offshore capital. Now, it had gone up in flames. Amid the tidal wave of calamity beasts, it completely collapsed, shattered, and was reduced to ruins. In fact, long before that, it had already been abandoned by the very people who built it up. And news like this was simply countless. Far more cruel or horrific reports were common occurrences, merely overlooked because they lacked the Free City's fame. Countless islands situated right along the main trunk of the Pestilent Wind had been devoured clean. Survivors couldn't even flee, let alone alert the outside world. Across the entire Endless Sea, apart from several major shipping lanes belonging to the Federation and the Empire, everywhere else was in utter chaos. Traffic was largely cut off. Even transit between the Seven Cities was impacted, turning sparse and treacherous, with numerous attacks by Sea Locusts already reported. Of course, as long as security precautions were taken, small, isolated swarms of Sea Locusts caused little real damage, wasting nothing more than a few rounds of ammunition. Even so, nerves were stretched taut at every rustle in the wind. Tangible fear and dread rippled outward with the ocean waves. Sometimes the hardest part was not the life-and-death struggle itself, but the endless, agonizing wait before it—a slow, psychological death by a thousand cuts. Panic gripped the populace, impossible to calm. Even though calculations indicated the Seven Cities did not lie on the Pestilent Wind's main path and would only face stray aftershocks, who could say for certain? Just as the core selling point of Ji Jue's Sundial line of products was "possibility" and "just in case," weren't those two words both the best and worst in the world? What if? What if something really happened? Who could swear to the heavens and guarantee that nothing would go wrong? Even if someone did, who would believe them? Dancheng had claimed it would protect the Seven Cities, and what came of that? After running into a mere tributary, they scurried back with their tails between their legs, not daring to let out a peep! Callisto of Dancheng had taken endless flak over the past two days; from top to bottom, everyone spat at his name. He had wanted to play the hero, and now that everyone believed the "critical moment" had truly arrived, where was he? Where had the hero gone? When was the turning point supposed to start? Who was going to give them the climax they were promised?! Speak up, Callisto, you motherfucker! Callisto stayed silent, feigning illness and holed up at home doing nothing. That his subordinates hadn't revolted already was solely because the Holy Tree provided him with a sufficiently sturdy backbone. And now, with the premonitory phase ending ahead of schedule, the Pestilent Wind kicked off like a pop song putting the chorus right at the start, catching everyone completely off guard. The Last Supper had been cancelled before anyone even took a bite—where was one supposed to complain? Across all Seven Cities, stripped of tourism, shipping, and every shady or legitimate business under the sun, a bleak slump was only natural. The mess grew messier, and what was worse, reeked more and more foul... Beneath the blazing sun at sultry noon, hardly anyone remained in Luo Island's public spaces. Those who did wore heavy masks or respirators, hurrying along with brisk strides. Whenever a gust blew in from the north, the stench stung people's eyes. Under the Pestilent Wind's stimulation, massive algal blooms erupted across the sea, leading to a population explosion of fish and shrimp, which were ultimately devoured clean by ravenous mutated species. The cycle had been somewhat sustainable, barely scraping by, until certain algae suddenly mutated to become toxic... and so came the dead fish—drifts of them, mountains of them! Rotting dead fish floated up from the deep, pushed by the waves until they formed wide rivers meandering across the surface, accumulating in massive piles on the leeward sides of islands. Even tens of li away, the suffocating stench of decay remained thick in the air. As a result, before Luo Island had caught so much as a glimpse of a calamity beast, its residents were already retching their guts out. Beyond sparking a carnival for flies, the rotting fish drew wave after wave of Sea Locusts to scavenge and lay eggs, causing endless nuisance and unrest. One could easily foresee that once the Sea Locust eggs hatched, another wave of trouble would follow. Trouble was trouble, and one more headache hardly mattered; Ji Jue had grown accustomed to it, adopting the mindset that too many lice stopped itching... Some lice could wait to be crushed at leisure later. But other lice, the moment he spotted them, had to fucking die! At one o'clock in the afternoon, Luo Island fell into dead silence. Everything came to a halt. Apart from hospitals and public security, even the assembly lines of Haian Industries were temporarily paused. Under mandatory orders from the Central Administrative Hall, every television screen and giant mall display showed the exact same feed: A live broadcast. The broadcast showed the plaza outside the Luo Island government hall, complete with rows of gallows welded together overnight... and disheveled figures kneeling on the ground. In front of the camera, those condemned men were either weeping bitterly, staring blankly in shock, shouting demands to see Ji Jue, or still trying to bargain... Yet no matter how they acted, whatever their former status, or how deeply they regretted their actions, none of it mattered anymore. Beneath the dark muzzles of guns, those figures were dragged forward one by one by personnel in exoskeleton armor and shoved onto the platform. After verifying their identities before the live camera, an expressionless executioner read aloud their charges and sentences, then gave a wave of his hand. Snap! Another swinger hung in the plaza. One after another, then another, and another... Each person's crimes were simple: embezzlement, dereliction of duty, trafficking in materials. So stupid that one couldn't help wondering what on earth had gone through their heads. One could only say human audacity knew no bounds... People were still running ships on the Endless Sea, after all; in this world, folks lived by tying their heads to their belt loops and rolling up their sleeves to get down to business! If they weren't even afraid of dying, what else could frighten them? However, facts proved that no matter how bold or daring, when death was staring them in the face, they still felt a twinge of terror after all. Fear was useless! No matter how afraid they were, they were going to die! At this critical juncture, under the surveillance of the Paradise system, beneath Ji Jue's iron-fisted control, some vermin had actually lost their minds and dared to black-market the supplies Ji Jue had stockpiled at astronomical expense? These weren't ordinary pests anymore—they had to be crushed to death immediately! In a mere fifteen minutes, forty-one deluxe little "swings" were put to use, standing dense across the plaza before the eyes of all viewers across Luo Island and even the Seven Cities, broadcasting the governor's resolve: Every single one of you can drop dead! From the prime viewing spot—a third-floor office behind the plaza in the government hall that Ji Jue had rarely used—Ji Jue drew back his gaze. He looked across the desk at the sweating, obsequiously smiling man opposite him. "Quite a delightful sight, isn't it?" Raising his teacup, he offered an earnest suggestion: "See how simple and effective it is? I recommend promoting this across the Seven Cities. Wouldn't that resolve Mr. Fernan's difficulties?" "That... that's a bit..." Wiping away cold sweat, the envoy from the Seven Cities Council said, "I will report this to Mr. Fernan upon my return. But the pressing matter at hand still requires a solution. You see..." "Yes, I see. Don't worry, I'll keep watching." As though misunderstanding the colloquial phrase, Ji Jue nodded repeatedly, feigning keen attention. The envoy's face twitched once more, his expression growing even more strained. "The Speaker's intention is that in times of tribulation, the Seven Cities should help one another... Surely Luo Island won't just stand idly by?" "Of course not." Ji Jue wore a peculiar, faint smirk. "Haven't I just taught you the method? Are you unable to learn it, or unable to do it? "Surely you don't expect me to go solve the problem for you? "I'm more than willing, mind you. Rest assured, as long as Speaker Fernan issues an official document—a Speaker's transfer order—I will rid the Seven Cities of this nuisance once and for all!" The envoy's face drained of color in an instant, and he hastily scrambled to his feet. "No need, no need, Mr. Ji, there's really no need for that!" If Ji Jue were truly allowed to "solve" it, all the leadership of the Seven Cities would probably be shoved onto Haian's assembly lines to enjoy the "blessings" of corporate drudgery before dawn tomorrow! Even if they didn't die, they certainly wouldn't be living much of a life! He had only come to beg for handouts, not to ask for a beating... But damn it, he would rather take a beating! If beaten, he could just be carried back lying down. Why did he have to endure this psychological torture? Across the Endless Sea today, shipping was mostly paralyzed. Deprived of trade, no matter how affluent a city-state might be, it was forced to tighten its belt. Some could still keep the music playing and the dancing going, while others were already pushed to the brink of survival. Even starving to death! The moment the Pestilent Wind arrived, grain prices spiked crazily. In a single day, a single morning, a single hour, they skyrocketed by tenfold, even dozens of times! All restaurants shuttered; all markets were stripped clean. The markets were completely empty, not a single grain of rice left to drop on the ground! The Seven Cities Council immediately issued price caps on food, which, naturally, was completely useless, reducing even their original stable supply contingency to scrap paper. Fernan was probably on the verge of a cerebral hemorrhage right now. What else could happen when the leadership of at least five of the Seven Cities was taking the lead in driving up grain prices? Some were even holding the lion's share themselves! Even Pucheng, where the Seven Cities Council was seated, was no exception! The children and grandchildren of the former alliance chief, Aquilino, were having a grand time hoarding supplies! Without everyone pitching in to fuel the flames, how could things have escalated to such an absurd degree? A rare opportunity indeed: let the common folk suffer a bit, while Fernan shouldered the infamy. As for how many would starve to death... it wouldn't deprive the big shots' tables of a single dish, so why would they care? And so, it had come down to that classic moment where the good guy gets a gun pointed at his head.