Military Exercise

"Targets five kilometers ahead, prepare!" "All loaded—" "Fire!" Across the open plain, as Yang Shu swung the red flag in his hand forward, twenty long, thick barrels belched fire in unison. Over the distant expanse, shrapnel and white smoke blossomed, blasting the wooden targets planted in the trenches to splinters. Two more barrages followed in rapid succession. The white smoke bursting from the final round formed a milky wall across the middle of the battlefield. "Artillery suppression complete!" "Tank units, advance! Cover the infantry and take the position!" Exhaust pipes spewed black smoke as thirty tanks roared to life together, forming an arrowhead armored spearhead that surged toward the plume of white smoke in the distance. At the same time, behind those thirty tanks, twenty armored trucks fired up their engines and sped forward along the rutted tracks... Standing on a distant concrete tower, Chu Guang held a pair of binoculars and watched the tank formation charge through the smoke screen toward the trench line, an involuntary smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. For the longest time, due to a lack of heavy equipment, the Alliance had followed a "special warfare doctrine"—namely, maximizing the individual strengths of its soldiers and making up for the lack of heavy firepower through sheer, fearless resolve. Now, however, that problem had finally been resolved to a certain extent. With production capacity steadily ramping up at the Qingshi County mine and the controlled nuclear fusion reactor ignited, the manufacturing potential of the Alliance's new industrial zone had finally been unleashed. No. 81 Steel Mill manufactured the engines, Goblin Technology produced the turrets, the Scientific Expedition's subordinate laboratory facilities built the sighting and targeting systems, and several state-owned steel mills produced the track hulls, chassis, and the like, all coming together for final assembly in the tank workshop. More than a hundred factories were involved in the supply chain, ranging from major plants boasting assets worth tens of millions of silver coins to small workshops employing only a dozen workers. Current output for the Type 1 tank had already reached two units per day. The thirty newly produced tanks, combined with the few that had taken part in the battle for Ruigu City, were already enough to scrape together a tank battalion. Of course, the key to building an armored force was not just equipment, but personnel training. Operating specialized equipment required long, tedious hours of drill, whereas the demand for raw individual combat ability was less pronounced. To leverage the respective strengths of players and NPCs, special operations gear like exoskeletons was typically prioritized for player corps composed mainly of Awakened, while heavy, multi-crew equipment like tanks and artillery was prioritized for NPC corps. Even so, player corps that had invested in armored and mobility doctrines, such as the Skeleton Corps, still received preferential consideration. After all, when recruiting new members, corps of that nature placed far more value on real-world driving experience than in-game level—whether that meant driving trucks, or driving tanks... Watching the tank formation nearby, Wrench felt a surge of adrenaline. From the days when facing a single Conqueror 10 had felt like facing an apocalyptic threat, to now having an entire tank column of their own... It felt like a dream! "We've won, Wrench." Hearing the Administrator's voice, Wrench clenched his fists with excitement and replied loudly, "Naturally! With this kind of gear, our army will be unstoppable in the desert! Whether it's the Legion or the Falcon Kingdom, they'll all be crushed to powder under our tracks!" Seeing his subordinate's absolute confidence, Chu Guang nodded in satisfaction. "Not bad. Good spirit." Soon, however, his tone shifted, and he spoke gravely. "We are improving quickly, but don't get cocky. We have to admit that there is still a noticeable gap between our Type 1 tank and the Legion's Conqueror." "They've been stationed in the desert for many years, whereas many of our people have never even seen what a desert looks like. We must be cautious, and approach every decision with the utmost care!" Wrench snapped to attention, brought his right fist to his chest in a military salute, and replied without hesitation, "Understood, my Lord!" Chu Guang nodded. As an established survivor power, the Legion's strength was by no means to be underestimated. The Conqueror 10 tank had minimal electronics, but that was because fighting most survivor factions required very little in terms of advanced electronic systems. Spaced armor capable of defeating shaped charges was already enough to let them dominate the battlefield unchallenged. When logistical supply lines were strained, an item's technological sophistication ceased to be the top priority; lower production hours and reduced cost took precedence. After suffering two crushing defeats in River Valley Province, it was entirely possible the Legion would adjust its tactics—such as manufacturing tanks with superior armor, faster aircraft, and the like. As for the Legion's deployment situation at Oasis No. 9, intelligence remained a complete blank. Reconnaissance took time. Chu Guang was still waiting on word from Battlefield Guy; matters like this could not be rushed. Standing to one side, Prince Kaliman cast a subtle glance at Chu Guang. Wasn't the guy in power armor the most cocky of them all? He had been the first to say "we've won," hadn't he? Still, with his level of emotional intelligence, Kaliman wasn't about to say something so inappropriate on an occasion like this. Glancing at the twenty artillery pieces nearby, Prince Kaliman remarked with envy, "Are those 100mm guns?" "155mm. We call it 155 artillery." Squinting slightly, Chu Guang paused for a moment before continuing, "While the firepower of a 100mm gun is sufficient, it leaves something to be desired. Since we have more powerful propellant charges, wouldn't it be a waste not to scale up the caliber as well?" More specifically, it was a post-apocalyptic modification of the PCL-181 truck-mounted howitzer, featuring a 52-caliber barrel and a relatively lightweight design that trimmed its total weight from twenty-five tons down to twenty-one. It could be mounted on a truck or deployed as a towed piece, making it exceedingly convenient. With drone assistance, the artillery could achieve a maximum range of forty kilometers, and using rocket-assisted projectiles could double that figure—though the dispersion at extreme range would inevitably be quite an eye-opener. Because it used azide compound charges, its explosive yield far exceeded that of modern 155mm shells. Its effective lethal radius was on par with a 203mm gun, and destruction within the kill zone was substantially enhanced. In the absence of pinpoint accuracy, raw power was the only substitute. In mountainous terrain like River Valley Province, lighter, faster 100mm guns were the optimal choice. But in open desert terrain, the vast tactical frontages demanded heavier firepower to compensate. With that, Chu Guang casually handed the binoculars to the prince so his guest could see more clearly. Though Kaliman didn't quite understand why someone with more powerful explosives wouldn't reduce the caliber to boost rate of fire and range rather than enlarging it, he took the binoculars nonetheless. As the thick, long barrels reflected a chilling metallic glint beneath the sun, Kaliman grew more envious by the second. If only the Lion Kingdom had artillery like this. Due to their low level of industrialization, they possessed millions of mu of fertile farmland, but the only factories capable of machining artillery shells were a handful located in the royal capital. The shells they manufactured were mere imitations of 100mm rounds, so their punch was easily imagined. By contrast, the Falcon Kingdom, backed by the Legion, had military technology that far outstripped the other kingdoms, even though its economy ranked dead last among the five. It went to show that having a powerful patron truly made all the difference. Seeing the look on Kaliman's face, Chu Guang smiled faintly. He had a good idea of what the man was thinking and understood why he felt that way. After all, applying influence was precisely why he had brought him here to observe the drill in the first place. "What do you think of the 155 artillery?" Lowering the binoculars, Kaliman wore an expression of lingering longing and said with admiration, "Magnificent! Just twenty guns covered a nine-kilometer front... No wonder you were able to shoot down that airship!" "Haha, we didn't have these toys when we brought down the airship," Chu Guang chuckled, watching the astonishment spread across Kaliman's face. "By mid-August, our forces will have completed resupply. By then, we should be able to field two full tank battalions and two artillery battalions. We could sell you some of the surplus arms. What do you say?" Kaliman instantly surged with excitement. Though he kept his expression somewhat restrained, his voice wavered slightly. "These weapons... you are willing to sell them to us?" Chu Guang gave an easy nod and offered generously, "Of course... For example, that 155 artillery goes for one million silver coins. In honor of our alliance, we can offer you a ten percent discount. And that Type 1 tank sells for 1.5 million silver coins, also with a ten percent discount." "Silver coins? But we have no silver coins," Kaliman stammered, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Would Lion coins do? Or if not... what about dinars?" Their kingdom held reserves of dinars and Cr, the hard currencies of the wasteland. Silver coins, however... He had truly never heard of them. Seeing his reaction, Chu Guang immediately put on a stern expression. "Out of the question! Dinars are the Legion's currency. How could we do business using the enemy's money?!" "But..." Just as Kaliman began an awkward explanation, Chu Guang cut him off. "As for silver coins, don't worry. A ton of grain can fetch around five hundred silver coins at our trading post, and fruit is slightly more expensive, especially sugarcane for sugar production. If you don't have enough, we can loan you one or two hundred million to get started, or you can pay with an equivalent value of agricultural products, minerals, or Lion coins pegged to them." Kaliman did some quick math: one ton of grain was five hundred silver coins, and a tank originally cost 1.5 million. That meant three thousand tons of grain could buy a tank?! That was an absolute steal! Even setting aside the agricultural facilities left behind from before the war, a conservative estimate meant the output of six thousand mu of farmland could purchase a tank, and four thousand mu could buy an artillery piece. No matter how one crunched the numbers, it was an incredible bargain! The Lion Kingdom possessed over ten million mu of arable land; grain was the one thing they had in surplus! Watching Prince Kaliman privately rejoice, Chu Guang could not help wearing a pleased smile of his own. In truth, the arms prices had not been pulled out of thin air; they had been calculated based on costs and the scarcity of goods. Referencing World War II price levels, the ratio between a T-34 tank and a ton of wheat had been nearly 1:2500. (Though after the war, instances had occurred where a tank was traded for ten dollars to plow fields.) His ratio of 1:3000 was thoroughly conscientious; even without the discount, it counted as a friendly price! What? A tractor-turned-tank selling for the same price as power armor was exorbitant? That wasn't because tanks were priced too high; it was because power armor was priced far too cheaply! After all, power armor was sold to his own players, and the players capable of purchasing it were the Alliance's most loyal "knights"—a simple matter of shifting money from the left pocket to the right. If it were truly sold abroad, Chu Guang wouldn't let a set go for a hundred million, let alone one million. By contrast, the 155 artillery was different. As long as the need was there and electricity, ore, and labor kept pace, Goblin Technology could crank out two of them a day, and scaling up production lines was effortless. Industrial goods grew cheaper the more they were produced. That was why Chu Guang was happy to sell them cheaply to an ally in exchange for the resources the Alliance needed. As for whether arming an ally too heavily might erode the Alliance's regional influence? A joke. A feudal dynasty could barely put up a fight against external invaders; how much offensive combat power could it possibly muster? Never mind 155 artillery—giving them power armor wouldn't do much good either. Otherwise, why hadn't Enterprise bypassed the Alliance to partner directly with the Lion Kingdom? Were flight range and operating costs the core issue? Clearly not. Generous though Enterprise was, they weren't stupid. Even when picking allies, one had to choose someone capable; otherwise, acting as an arms delivery service for the enemy would be a complete disaster... *** The exercise concluded. From the moment the assault began to its end, the 1st Corps took just five minutes to fully capture the position. However, this was only a drill, not a real battlefield. In actual combat, their opponents would not be stationary wooden stakes stuck in trenches. Their enemies would rake armored tracks and tires with heavy machine guns, lay mines before their trenches, and strike back with anti-tank rocket launchers at any cost to halt the advance... They might even employ unconventional tactics never seen before. Once an attacking tank broke down mid-charge, it was just waiting for enemy artillery to pick it off. To survive on the battlefield, they had to charge faster. Coordination between the various arms of the service had to become seamless! Today, the tanks charged after the artillery bombardment; in the future, they would need to practice charging behind creeping barrages, advancing under air cover, and shielding infantry advances... From sky to ground, only when everyone fought in unity would they have any hope of defeating an enemy vastly stronger than themselves. As the units assembled on the drill grounds, Chu Guang led his officers from the observation seats toward the main podium. Standing before the gathered troops in his power armor, Chu Guang engaged his helmet's external speaker and spoke in a resounding voice. "...Every unit performed admirably. From your high-spirited expressions, I see the precious courage, loyalty, and determination to win." "You are the pillars of the Alliance, the future of the Alliance, and the future of human civilization itself. The responsibility upon your shoulders is as heavy as the mountains in the distance, so you must never grow complacent, much less lax." "...The sweat you pour today is so that you bleed less tomorrow!" "I hope you will keep striving! Forge onward toward our ideal of bringing an end to the wasteland era!" Across the parade ground, the soldiers snapped to attention, right fists pressed against their chests. "Loyalty!!" The unified roar echoed across the vast plain, shaking the very clouds. "Loyalty!" Meeting those determined gazes, Chu Guang gave a slow nod and returned a crisp, clean salute. Under the reverent—almost worshipful—eyes of the soldiers and officers, he yielded the floor to the corps commander beside him and calmly stepped away from the training field. The detailed critiques of each unit's performance would be handled by the Alliance's officer corps. Having weathered multiple battles, they understood better than anyone where their subordinates needed improvement. That was worth far more than textbook theories. As the Administrator of the Alliance, beyond meeting their logistical needs, Chu Guang only had two jobs: to preserve his prestige within the army, and to ensure the army's loyalty and morale. The Alliance's future marshals might very well be among the soldiers standing down there. They belonged to this world. They had only one life. What they needed was not just courage, but faith. Managing relationships with them was an entirely different matter from managing a player community. Chu Guang found, somewhat to his own surprise, that he was growing increasingly adept at matters he had once found unfamiliar. Following behind Chu Guang, Kaliman was mulling over whether to order an initial batch of a hundred tanks to test them out, or buy two hundred outright to forge an armored thousand-man regiment and go toe-to-toe with the Legion's dogs. Just as he was about to speak, Chu Guang abruptly halted and tapped a finger against his helmet. Kaliman blinked. "Is something the matter, Lord Administrator?" "One moment. Taking a call." Giving a brief reply, Chu Guang sealed his helmet visor, his gaze settling on the holographic display projected within. The communication request came from Falling Leaf City, and the caller was Ma Ban. Without wasting words, Ma Ban spoke in a serious tone the moment the connection went through. "My Lord, a convoy has arrived from the direction of Sunset Province. They claim to be the royal family of the Honey Badger Kingdom." The Honey Badger Kingdom? Chu Guang had heard the name. One of the five kingdoms of the desert, located at Oasis No. 3 adjacent to the Falcon Kingdom (Oasis No. 2), with an area of roughly fifty thousand square kilometers. Sunset Province was absurdly massive, and its artificial oases were no different. Even though Oasis No. 3 was one of the smaller ones, it was still nearly half the size of Zhejiang Province back on Earth. Caravan rumors had it that the Honey Badger Kingdom had a population near one million and practiced a relatively enlightened monarchy. Compared to the other kingdoms that had inherited legacies from the People's Federation, its national strength ranked lowest among the five, making it the very first victim swallowed up by the joint forces of the Falcon Kingdom and the Legion. Still, wherever there was oppression, there was resistance. The Honey Badger royal family enjoyed immense prestige in Oasis No. 3, both in terms of monarchical and religious authority. Most crucially, Oasis No. 3 lay in the west-central part of Sunset Province, situated slightly north between Oasis No. 2 and Oasis No. 9. If a local armed force could be backed there, they could strike at the Legion's rear while the Alliance and the Legion were locked in fierce combat... At the thought, Chu Guang felt a surge of delight and immediately asked, "What did they say?" For some reason, Ma Ban's voice sounded somewhat odd, and he cleared his throat softly. "...Their demands aren't too unreasonable, it's just... Well, actually, it's still pretty out there. You had better speak with them in person." *** Inside a plain, unadorned carriage. A young man and woman sat facing each other. From their refined features and upright posture, it was easy to tell that their standing was far from ordinary. Looking across at his sister, Samer pulled his gaze back from the window, a shadow of melancholy drifting across his face. After a long while, he shed his indecisive expression and softly murmured a single word. "I'm sorry." Beneath loose, wavy brown hair lay a fair and youthful face. From beneath a delicate, upturned nose came a light, offhand reply. "It doesn't matter." Avni did not take the apology to heart—or rather, she saw nothing in this that warranted an apology. According to the laws of the Honey Badger Kingdom, having passed her eighteenth birthday, she was of marriageable age anyway. Paying no attention to the shifting scenery outside, her focus remained entirely on the illustrated book resting on her knees. Depicted on the page was a tall, burly man whose chin was covered in a thick beard resembling a broom, his massive physique reminiscent of a full-grown gorilla. In the Honey Badger Kingdom, a beard was a symbol of strength. Her father, for instance, had possessed a long, luxuriant beard. The second brother sitting opposite her had never been favored to inherit the throne precisely because he had failed to inherit their father's beard and possessed too slight a build. By contrast, her eldest brother was far more powerful, still leading the restoration army and fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with their allies at Oasis No. 9... Even so, their father had ultimately passed the throne to this second brother whom no one had favored. Avni stared intently at the picture book, her slender index finger turning a page. The story was reaching its climax. A barbarian with skin so dark it had a greenish cast, a pair of golden tusks jutting from his mouth, was being trampled beneath the boots of a hero clad in heavy armor and wielding a warhammer. Scattered around him was a field of corpses clad in black cloaks. This picture book had been brought from the east by an itinerant merchant. It had first appeared in the bazaars of the Honey Badger Kingdom's royal capital, winning wide acclaim among the commoners, before being purchased by a minister and gifted to her. Rumor had it that in the south of River Valley Province, a mighty leader had guided a band of courageous survivors against packs of wolves and jackals many times their number, slaying the dogs kept by the Legion and liberating the enslaved survivors... The trade routes in southern River Valley Province had reopened because of it, and a ruined city in the desolate wild had flourished under his enlightened rule. Merchants traveling north and south sang the praises of this lord's name, and the local residents lived happily ever after... A heartening tale. Such a story might hold little appeal for the people of the Camel Hump or Golden Lizard kingdoms, but to the people of the Honey Badger Kingdom, it sounded as wondrous as a fairy tale. For over a decade, the Honey Badger Kingdom had faced threats from the west. Ever since the Falcon Kingdom had submitted to the Legion, they had begun altering their ancestral laws, continuously expanding their army, and blatantly trampling upon the covenant of the desert kings. Every subject of the Honey Badger Kingdom knew that the Falcon Kingdom coveted their oasis, while the Legion sought to enslave them. Her father had refused to become the Legion's lapdog, refused to betray his faith, and refused to let his people become cannon fodder and hard labor for the Wilantes. And so, on a quiet night, they had suffered a full-scale invasion by the Legion and its hounds. Though the royal houses of the other kingdoms were outraged by the Falcon Kingdom's shameful sneak attack and condemned its rulers for forsaking the teachings of the Spirit of the Desert, none were willing to dispatch troops to their aid. Only when the Lion Kingdom became the next victim did they finally issue a belated declaration of war... Now, however, it was too late. Although the Lion Kingdom was the leader among the desert kings, it was hard to say how much longer it could hold out. The strength of the desert folk alone was no longer enough to drive away the wolves from afar. They had to either vanish into the yellow sands clinging stubbornly to their faith, or seek the help of outsiders... Many had paid for this with their lives, including her father and mother. By comparison, the small sacrifice asked of her was utterly negligible. Gazing with pity at that quiet, taciturn face, Samer assumed she was still lost in sorrow over the loss of her happiness, and tried to comfort her. "I hear that Administrator has four sons, every one of them a valiant warrior accomplished in both letters and arms." "Mm." "His eldest son is mighty and strong, his second son is handsome and dashing, his third is wise and resourceful, and there is a youngest son—" "Brother." Unable to hold back any longer, Avni interrupted him with a sigh, closed the book in her hands, and looked at him seriously. "Don't you think this sounds like a fairy tale?" Plans never went so smoothly. Samer faltered slightly. Just then, a commotion broke out outside, and a familiar name carried faintly into the carriage. Frowning, he signaled to his sister not to worry, pushed open the carriage door, and stepped down. Seeing his captain of the guard clashing with the crowd in the distance, he shouted loudly, "Talit, what are you doing?!" "It's Teresa! The royal consort of the Falcon Kingdom! Those hyenas have reached here!" Leveling his rifle, the turbaned man glared furiously at the woman standing behind Ma Ban. Startled to see the prince emerge from the carriage, he quickly turned and called out, "Your Highness, get back inside the carriage—" The usually gentle prince barked out in fury, cutting the captain off. "Enough! Lower your weapon!" Talit stared at him in utter disbelief. "Your Highness?!" Samer stepped forward stride by stride, locking eyes with him as he continued, "Use your head! The Falcon Kingdom is locked in war with the Lion Kingdom—how could they possibly have advanced this far?!" That unyielding gaze was identical to the late king's, even if his face lacked the slightest hint of his father's martial bearing. Talit hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and threw the rifle to the ground. Glancing at the weapon on the dirt, Ma Ban's expression did not change in the slightest. With a casual wave of his hand, he signaled his guards to lower their guns. Back when he had led his people through the Bone Chewer tribe's encirclement to Qingquan City, and then airdropped behind enemy lines with the Burning Corps to organize local guerrilla resistance, marauders had practically shoved bayonets into his mouth without making him flinch. A single rifle was nothing. In his eyes, that thing was no different from a fire poker. Still— Just because he dismissed the threat didn't mean someone could point a gun at Alliance personnel with impunity. "I need an explanation." Looking past the man who had discarded his weapon, Ma Ban addressed the handsome youth walking toward him, his tone brooking no nonsense. "If you cannot provide a reasonable justification, I will have to invite you to sit in the guardhouse for a while." "I offer my deepest apologies for my subordinate's insolence. Rage clouded his mind, though I know that cannot undo the offense." The handsome youth bowed slightly, then turned toward his captain of the guard. "Under the laws of the Honey Badger Kingdom, one who attempts murder shall have his head and beard shaved and be reduced to a slave, to be dealt with by the victim... He is now your slave." Talit hung his head in humiliation, but said nothing, dropping to one knee upon the ground. Ma Ban looked at the youth with an inscrutable expression, then glanced at Talit kneeling before him, and spoke under the watchful eyes of the crowd. "Stand up. On this land, no one kneels to the living. The Alliance has only brothers and sisters, no slaves." Talit did not move until a clear voice came from behind him. "Rise, faithful guard. You are free... Thank your master for pardoning your folly." Brushing the dirt from his knees, Talit kept his head down and mumbled a "Thank you," though the sidelong glance he cast at Teresa still burned with hatred. With the diplomatic incident defused, the tension in the air subsided. Rather than looking at the turbaned captain of the guard, Ma Ban watched the approaching youth with keen interest. He had to admit, the kid had guts. Even if he fell a little short compared to himself. "And you are?" "Samer Honey Badger, Acting King of the Honey Badger Kingdom," the youth said, bowing slightly in greeting. "On behalf of the Honey Badger royal family, I implore you to lend us your aid." "Then you'll have to take that up with our Administrator. I'm merely in charge of the refugee camp." Ma Ban looked at him, then at the small party behind him, a faint frown creasing his brow. "Is that your kingdom?" The unspoken meaning was clear—was this all that remained? Hearing the implication, Samer took no offense. A weak nation had no diplomacy, let alone a fallen one. Well aware of his standing, he replied in a calm tone, "They are the kingdom's most loyal warriors. We are far from the only ones left; my elder brother still leads the restoration army on the front lines against the Legion's dogs, and our people have never surrendered." Ma Ban shrugged. "I will report your situation to our Administrator." While he sympathized with their plight, he didn't see what useful value a fallen kingdom could offer the Alliance. Oasis No. 3 in the west-central region was well over a thousand kilometers away. Passing through Oasis No. 9 and heading northwest required crossing a vast, boundless desert—it was simply too far... Of course, that was merely a passing thought; the final decision belonged to the Administrator. Whatever that Lord decided, Ma Ban would support unconditionally. For now, his job was solely to build the outpost and help the survivors around Ruigu City rebuild their homes. "Please ensure you relay our circumstances to him in full; the misunderstanding just now was entirely unintentional." Glancing at the pale-faced royal consort and wondering why she was here, Samer continued with earnest sincerity, "Though the threat from the west is our shared danger, we will not rely on empty rhetoric to ask for your aid without compensation." Looking at the five shabby carriages, Ma Ban chuckled and threw in a remark. "Oh? And what can you offer our Lord?" Even if those five carriages were packed with gold, so what? That shiny metal wasn't worth a dime here. Samer did not take the foreign official's teasing to heart, speaking in a quiet voice. "...No outsider has ever become the master of the desert's people, including the Falcon Kingdom that occupies our oasis. But we are willing to break that precedent." Pausing, he continued. "I hear the Administrator has four sons. If one among them is willing to marry my sister, once their offspring comes of age, I will abdicate the throne to him." "You will acquire the bloodline of the Honey Badger royal family and legitimate rights of succession. Blessed by the Spirit of the Desert, that Lord's grandson will not only inherit fifty thousand square kilometers of fertile land in Oasis No. 3 and the loyalty of nearly a million subjects, but will also rightfully become the ruler of Oasis No. 2... the Falcon Kingdom." Samer spoke with absolute seriousness, his eyes devoid of the slightest hesitation. Yet upon hearing this, Ma Ban froze, an utterly bizarre look spreading across his face. After a long silence, he finally choked out a question. "...That first part." "Where on earth did you hear that?"