Inside a pitch-black dilapidated house.
Moisture and patches of mold crept along the surrounding walls, as though even the air itself were tainted. Dim candlelight illuminated only a small patch of the floor, leaving the rest of the space consumed by darkness.
The place looked no better than a rat hole.
The stench of rot and mildew invaded his nostrils, and Rajesh, bound tightly to a wooden chair with hemp rope, slowly opened his eyes.
Memories from right before he lost consciousness surged back like a tide. He instinctively struggled, but succeeded only in producing a futile chorus of creaks from the chair.
He raised his head, squinting through the dim light to make out the young man standing before him.
It was none other than the kid who had approached him earlier, claiming he would lead him to meet the boss of the street.
Now it was painfully obvious...
He had been sold out.
His only hope now was that his two teammates had been clever enough to escape with the intel that the residents near the governor's mansion had been bribed.
"How much did you sell me for?"
Axin replied calmly, "Gifts are free."
"Looks like the Alliance gave you quite a bit of benefits." Staring at the composed youth, Rajesh let out a cold sneer and glanced around. "Where is this? Where you dispose of corpses?"
Axin kept a straight face. "My home."
Rajesh froze slightly.
His first reaction was astonishment that anyone could actually live in such a godforsaken hole.
Soon, however, his eyes narrowed as he glared at the young man. "You are a subject of the Empire."
"That's right," Axin said evenly. "And a rat you look down on the most."
"No one looks down on you; you look down on yourselves... Isn't that the truth?"
Panting slightly, Rajesh glanced down at the ropes binding his arms, then looked back at the youth, speaking deliberately.
"Look at what you've done. While the brave Wolf Clan fights for the Empire's interests, a little rat stabs them in the back. No one likes a pack of sneaky, conniving rats. But that's not because you're called rats—it's because you're shameless, despicable, and base. All you care about is profit. You'll sell your own daughters and wives into prostitution, without a shred of greater righteousness in your hearts... Put yourself in my shoes: would you like people like that?"
He expected to see shame flood the young man's face, or at least a flicker of guilt.
Yet after listening to his tirade, Axin merely offered a cold smile. Mimicking Rajesh's slow, measured tone, he said, "Is that all you wanted to say?"
He had heard far viler insults.
This roundabout preaching didn't even tickle.
"It's not too late to turn back... Your wits should be put to proper use. His Majesty will pardon a momentary lapse in judgment. Surely you don't want to carry sin and disgrace into the cycle of reincarnation?" A glimmer of hope still lingered in Rajesh's eyes, wishing the youth would mend his ways.
Unfortunately,
his hopes were completely misplaced.
"Too late. I've already decided what beast I'll be in my next life."
With a voice dripping with mockery, Axin dropped those cold words and turned toward the armored iron man standing behind him, speaking respectfully.
"My lord, it's him... While we were demolishing the slums, he and two others came snooping around, trying to pry into information about you. They thought they hid it well, but meat-eaters and soil-chewing rats don't even breathe the same air. No matter how much ash and mud they smeared on their faces, we recognized them at a glance."
Yincha Yangcuo nodded approvingly. "Well done."
Finally catching a clear view of the exoskeleton, Rajesh lost all color in his face, his trembling lips turning pale.
Being a man of backbone after all, he stiffened his neck and said coldly, "...I won't say a word."
Yet hearing this, the "iron man" merely shrugged indifferently.
"Doesn't matter. We didn't expect to squeeze anything out of you anyway. You're not an officer drawing up battle plans; you're just a scout at best. Still, capturing you is a pleasant surprise. Our original expectation was simply that the locals wouldn't get in the way. We even assumed we'd have to fight an asymmetric urban battle with zero local intel, but who knew... they'd be so enthusiastic."
With that, Yincha Yangcuo turned to Axin and patted the young man's shoulder with a grin.
"Good job. He's the guy we were looking for, and I'm very satisfied with this gift. Next... could you do us the favor of making him disappear? It wouldn't be very good for you if these three stayed alive, right?"
Rajesh's words just now had confirmed beyond doubt that they hadn't grabbed the wrong person.
Yincha had only come in person to ensure the kid hadn't rounded up random civilians as soldiers to inflate his numbers just to curry favor.
Catching the hint, Axin nodded respectfully. "Leave it to me."
Yincha Yangcuo nodded with satisfaction and got up to leave the room.
He was starting to take a liking to this new underling.
The decrepit wooden door swung shut, blotting out the thin sliver of moonlight filtering through the crack. A look of sheer despair crept across Rajesh's face.
He looked toward Axin standing by the door. His Adam's apple bobbed, and out of sheer survival instinct, he couldn't help pleading.
"Don't kill me... Can you spare my life...?"
Feeling that wasn't persuasive enough, he swallowed hard and pressed on.
"I still have five children to raise. Jatin is about your age, Tarun is only seven, and there's Amy... Please, for their sake, spare me! I won't tell General Alaiyang about you. We can pretend we never met!"
In truth, he wasn't afraid of dying.
It was just that if he had to die, he would rather die on the battlefield, not in a foul gutter like this, his throat torn out by a disgusting rat.
Axin merely stared at him blankly, then suddenly looked up at the ceiling that seemed ready to collapse at any moment.
"Do they live in a hellhole like this, just like my brothers and sisters?"
Rajesh froze.
By the time he came to his senses, the young man had already turned and walked out the door...
Outside the rickety shack, a dense crowd stood waiting, completely packing the narrow path strewn with broken bricks.
Led by Kunal of the Dog Clan, the impoverished folk stood in a row, watching with reverence as Axin followed closely on the heels of the iron man.
It was as if they were looking upon a king.
Standing before the door, Axin paused for a moment. He first looked across the surrounding bare rubble, then glanced back at the dilapidated shack hung with red cloth.
He had stopped living here several days ago. Before the Gray Wolf Army arrived, he had already moved his family to Tulip Street right by the harbor.
A Wilante merchant who had suffered catastrophic business losses had dumped his property there—a three-story, fully furnished Western-style townhouse spanning two to three hundred square meters, listed for a mere fifty two-headed oxen or an equivalent amount of Xilan coins.
Axin was the only bidder, spending less than two million in total.
Just over a week ago, the idea of a Rat Clan boy buying a home there with Xilan coins would have been nothing short of a fantasy.
The houses near the governor's mansion had already been mostly demolished, the debris hauled off in wheelbarrows, leaving only this single shack standing alone.
He had originally planned to tear it down after the other houses were gone, but right now, the sight of it felt like an eyesore no matter how he looked at it.
Far too hideous.
Even a dead dog washed into the sewer had called it a place to dispose of corpses.
"Tear it down."
Hearing that cold voice, Kunal bowed respectfully.
"Understood!"
***
Three full days had passed since the Gray Wolf Army marched on Golden Gallon Port.
Over those three days, the soldiers of the Gray Wolf Army had truly experienced what it meant to be universally welcomed and hailed by the populace.
The suburban residents of Golden Gallon Port, joyously welcoming the royal army, had taken only three days to dig out all the fortifications for these noble Wolf Clan warriors.
And they hadn't charged a single coin.
Deep trenches encircled the port settlement so tightly not a drop could leak through, coiling around the entire area like giant pythons.
However—
the survivors who had actually taken the secret cash did not feel entirely secure holding the money, terrified that the imperial soldiers might actually win.
If these grunts suffered a setback at the Alliance's hands and realized the truth behind the trenches, there would surely be a reckoning.
Furthermore, for reasons unknown, the price of beans had skyrocketed lately. A single jin that originally cost five to six Xilan coins now went for seven or eight.
If it kept rising, buying beans wouldn't even be as economical as buying black bread, leaving the poorest folks no choice but to swallow a few extra mouthfuls of dirt.
A suffocating tension hung over everyone's heads—except for the amusement-seeking players inside the settlement and the imperial soldiers outside.
The situation appeared utterly magnificent, yet General Alaiyang, presiding over front-line command, couldn't shake a rising sense of unease.
His capable subordinate Rajesh had been missing for five full days now. The city's interior was an impenetrable gray fog to him.
Although his men had grabbed a few suburban survivors for questioning, most of those people had never stepped foot in the port in their lives. Some rattled off wild fabrications whether they had been there or not.
Launching a rash assault without understanding the enemy was a fatal mistake. At the very least, he needed to ascertain the troop deployment and firepower layout at Rowell Camp before deciding how many troops and what equipment to commit to the next battle.
Even if the Gray Wolf Army was the Empire's ace force, their logistics weren't limitless. No matter how much they looked down on their adversary, once real fighting began, caution was imperative.
Aside from the lack of intelligence, an even bigger headache was that His Imperial Majesty was growing impatient...
At noon on the third day, a desert-camo off-road vehicle drove up behind the battle lines.
A man in military uniform pushed the door open and strode straight into the camouflage-netted command post. Glaring at General Alaiyang, who was in the middle of a meeting, he barked furiously,
"General Alaiyang, what in the world are you and your men dawdling for?!"
The officers conferring inside the tent fell silent at once.
Alaiyang looked toward the entrance in bewilderment. He was about to lash out when he recognized the face as Prince Dilip, instantly suppressing the fury that had flared up.
In the Xilan Empire, the rank of Prince was reserved exclusively for royalty carrying imperial blood, possessing a status far beyond what a Wolf Clan general could rival.
Without question, His Majesty had sent him here for only one purpose—
he had come as an overseer!
Swallowing his temper, Alaiyang drew a deep breath and said, "What... what dawdling?"
"Three days! Your troops arrived three days ago, yet you haven't fired a single shot! Are you planning to take up permanent residence here?" Prince Dilip glared at him aggressively.
Alaiyang explained with a headache, "We need adequate intelligence before drafting an operational plan. Rowell Camp has solid concrete fortifications, backed by Alliance artillery support. Throwing soldiers in recklessly will achieve nothing except needless casualties."
Hearing this, Prince Dilip erupted into curses.
"Intelligence? Golden Gallon Port is imperial territory! Do you not know the roads, or do you not know the people there? Just drag someone over and interrogate them, and everything will be clear!"
Alaiyang looked at the prince with exasperation.
"If only it were that simple... Those survivors living in the suburbs claim the Alliance has monsters with three heads and six arms, while others claim they can summon sea beasts! Do you think such intelligence has any reference value whatsoever?"
Prince Dilip snarled, "Then send a squad of scouts in to look! Do I need to teach you how to do something like that?!"
"That's sending them to their deaths! Alliance personnel are watching the perimeter of the settlement, and I suspect they've bought off the entire settlement guard force and part of the citizenry. The scouts I dispatched earlier haven't sent back a single word."
Pausing, Alaiyang fixed a serious gaze on him and continued, "Listen, our enemy isn't stupid. Only with a meticulous plan and a decisive strike do we stand a chance of crushing them... By the way, where are the Legion's men?"
He had heard that several Wilante officers had arrived in Tiandu, officers who had previously clashed with the Alliance in Luoxia Province.
If he could bring those men here, he would be able to gain a far more accurate assessment of the Alliance's capabilities.
Regrettably, the only person standing here was the one he least wanted to see.
Prince Dilip stared at him unblinkingly.
"His Majesty expects you to resolve this matter with your own strength. There is no need to trouble our allies over such a trivial affair."
Alaiyang's mouth twitched.
Before he could speak, Prince Dilip narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing him like an eagle sizing up prey.
"General Alaiyang, are you afraid?"
"Afraid?" Alaiyang froze, then let out a laugh of disbelief. "Are you joking? What would I be afraid of?"
"Then why haven't you launched an assault on the Alliance?" Prince Dilip raised his chin slightly. "Let me be blunt: His Majesty sent you here to crush those bedbugs clinging to the soles of our boots. Yet for three straight days, the dispatches sent to Tiandu have all read, 'General Alaiyang is leading his gray wolves in digging trenches.' Are you trying to dig a canal here?"
Alaiyang took a deep breath.
"I will organize an assault on Rowell Camp as soon as possible... Give me one more day!"
Prince Dilip let out a mocking scoff.
"Rowell Camp? His Majesty ordered you to plant our banner atop the governor's mansion! It seems you truly haven't read His Majesty's telegram properly."
General Alaiyang stared at him dumbfounded, taking a long moment before squeezing out a sentence.
"...Have you looked at a map?"
Prince Dilip stated with utter confidence, "Of course I have. That is the Alliance's defensive fulcrum in Golden Gallon Port. Once you take it out, your troops can push straight into the harbor district, driving deep all the way until you drive them into the sea!"
Alaiyang couldn't hold back. "That's completely unrealistic! Even if we take it, it achieves nothing except forcing us into premature urban combat near the port. It's far better to seize Rowell Camp first and squeeze their defensive line step by step—"
"I say you're just terrified," Prince Dilip narrowed his eyes at him. "A few grasshoppers have frightened you into shrinking back like this. If you don't dare attack the governor's mansion, hand over command to me. I'll go in your stead."
Swallowing the rage burning in his chest, Alaiyang took a deep breath and said, "I can give you a myriad—"
"No need for so many. Five thousand is plenty."
Turning toward the tent flap, Prince Dilip halted and cast a casual remark over his shoulder. "Before nightfall, I expect you to have the men assembled. Otherwise, I will have no choice but to reasonably doubt whether you are still fit for such a heavy responsibility."
He wasn't an idiot.
If he took a myriad, he would be dealing with a myriad commander, passing orders down layer by layer, and those slick old foxes had ten thousand ways to play dumb and stall.
Five directly subordinate thousand-man units were entirely different.
He would be the myriad commander himself!
How to fight would be entirely his call, with no need to consult anyone!
Looking at that "profoundly confident" profile, Alaiyang had no choice but to stiffen his neck and nod, despite ten thousand protests screaming in his heart.
"Yes, sir!"
***
The next day, new movement finally stirred across the imperial lines. A massive force, kicking up billowing clouds of dust, crossed the newly dug trenches and advanced toward the urban district of Golden Gallon Port.
Yincha and his team, crouched near the urban fringe, spotted them long ago and immediately relayed the situation to the rear via radio.
The twelve 155mm artillery pieces deployed at the harbor of Golden Gallon Port promptly completed their firing adjustments, thick, elongated barrels pointing toward the sky.
A warrior in an exoskeleton strode before the battery, switched on his helmet's external speaker, and roared at the top of his lungs,
"Brothers! The wild dogs hiding outside the settlement have finally crawled out of their dens! Give them hell! Show them what happens when you mess with someone you shouldn't!"
"Fire—!"
At the command, lanyards were pulled in unison, and streaks of orange-yellow tracers leaped into the sky amidst billowing smoke and dust.
The awe-inspiring spectacle stunned the countless sailors and traveling merchants across the port.
Before the onlookers could even recover their senses, human-shaped loaders in exoskeletons had already slammed home the second round of shells through the lingering dust.
"Fire!!"
Another volley roared.
The bellowing gun barrels sang like bagpipes, raining down a deluge of death onto the enemy positions over a dozen kilometers away.
One could well imagine
what kind of scene unfolded across the distant battlefield...
The crowd on the docks finally came back to reality, casting glances of pure reverence toward the continuously firing artillery battery.
"...Is that the legendary 155?"
"Spirit of the Sand Sea above!"
"I felt the very earth trembling!"
"The Emperor of the Xilan Empire must be out of his mind... Why on earth did they pick a fight with these harbingers of doom?"
"If you ask me, they'd better pay up and apologize right now. If this keeps up, ten Gray Wolf Armies won't be enough to feed the meat grinder."
Sailors on the decks gossiped excitedly, while several sharp-witted merchants were already calculating when to head to Dawn City to place orders.
Watching the Alliance artillery flexing its might, several Wilantes wore sour expressions, cursing under their breath.
"Damn it, it's not like 100mm is all we have!"
"Those disgraceful fools from the Eastern Expansion faction dare call themselves our representatives?!"
"A bunch of backwater hicks!"
Yet no matter how they rationalized it, the fact remained that the borders of the various nations in Luoxia Province hadn't budged an inch. Someone had even carved out that bizarre anomaly called Bister Town right on the edge of the Falcon Kingdom.
A huge mass of able-bodied youths would rather stay there operating sewing machines than go home, leaving the entire Falcon Kingdom severely lacking in men. The streets were filled with widows, with hardly a young man in sight. The royal family's authority barely held on thanks to aid from the Eastern Legion keeping them on life support.
That war had drained the Falcon Kingdom so severely they wouldn't recover for years, leaving one to wonder why the Xilan Empire had rushed so eagerly to suck up to Triumph City.
The Falcon Kingdom's total population wasn't even as large as Golden Gallon Port's, so they could get by on aid from the Eastern Legion. Given the sheer scale of Brahma Province, the Wilantes would have to be insane to bail them out.
Perhaps—
His Imperial Majesty simply possessed an extraordinary fondness for those big-nosed foreigners.
While the sailors at the harbor enjoyed the show, the vanguard of the Gray Wolf Army in the outskirts of Golden Gallon Port was engulfed in living hell.
The imperial artillery battery in the rear attempted a counter-battery volley, but lacked any forward fire correction.
The initial spotting round flew off to who knew where, and a barrage of blind firing failed to hit anything. Instead, it drew a savage counter-strike from the Alliance's artillery. Six 100mm howitzers were blasted into scrap metal on the spot, with most of the gunners killed or wounded, leaving the bomb shelters echoing with agonized wails.
Having endured a vicious pounding, Prince Dilip did not shrink back; the roaring bombardment instead stoked his bloodlust.
Seeing the billowing black smoke in the distance and his soldiers cowering in the trenches, terrified to advance, he gave up relying on counter-battery fire. Gripping his walkie-talkie, he screamed hoarsely at the top of his lungs,
"Push forward!"
"Are you staying there to serve as target practice for the Alliance?! Once you're in the city, there's cover everywhere! Advance—!"
His raspy voice cracked and broke, showing how desperately he was commanding, though he still couldn't drown out the thunder of the Alliance's shells.
The chiliarch crouching in the trench ignored him completely. Closing his eyes, he counted the detonations around him, pretending he had been deafened by the concussions.
Even a pig knew that going out right now meant getting blown to bits. Wouldn't it be better to push forward after the shelling stopped?
Otherwise, why the hell had they dug these trenches!
Then again, those damned combat engineers had dug the trenches absurdly deep... Sticking his head out just to take a look was a struggle.
Fortunately, Prince Dilip only screamed from the rear, lacking the guts to charge to the front line and drag the men out of the dirt himself.
Once the shelling ceased, the troops began straggling out of the trenches under whistle signals, pressing on toward the urban area.
Throughout the advance, Alliance shells flew in sporadically, occasionally catching soldiers who hadn't found cover in time.
Yet these men were well-trained regulars after all, hitting the dirt almost the instant a whistle shrieked overhead. To Prince Dilip, casualties at this level remained within an acceptable margin.
Meanwhile, General Alaiyang, watching from even farther back, felt his heart bleeding.
Though the men assigned to Prince Dilip weren't the elite core of the Gray Wolf Army, they were still his soldiers—and more importantly, his brethren.
"Incompetent fool!"
Clenching his fists, he cursed furiously and brought his binoculars down with a snap.
At the exact same time, the four players crouched in the suburbs of Golden Gallon Port were having the time of their lives watching the roaring bombardment.
"Haha! Beautiful shot!"
"Our artillery bros are getting sharper and sharper."
Seeing Yincha pumping his fist in excitement, Jia Ren chuckled. "Say, did you guys notice? Those coffin pits we gifted them actually came in handy."
Rather than those unlucky enough to get blown up, he paid closer attention to the survivors.
The soldiers who dived into the trenches couldn't even poke their heads out. When climbing out, they had to throw their rifles up first, then kick hard against the dirt walls.
Braving the thundering fire, waves of soldiers advanced toward the city in disheveled clusters. They dared not move in large groups, yet dared not send too few either.
They understood well.
Long-range artillery looked terrifying, but actual lethal coverage was limited; as long as they didn't cluster too densely, moving forward in dispersed groups was viable.
However, if too few entered the city, given the individual combat prowess the Alliance had displayed in the previous battle, sending small numbers was no different from feeding them free kills.
After leaving behind over a hundred bodies, the five thousand-man units gradually pushed into the settlement, using narrow streets and flanking buildings as cover to advance.
Having completed their fire mission, the artillery halted their barrage to prepare for the next round of fire support.
Seeing the Alliance's bombardment cease and his vanguard surging into the outer perimeter of Golden Gallon Port like an unstoppable tide, Prince Dilip could no longer restrain his surging excitement.
Tossing the handset to the radio operator carrying the radio pack, he looked at his personal guard captain, who was clutching a rifle, and shouted eagerly,
"Quick! We're moving up too!"
The guard captain hesitated slightly, but dared not cross the prince. He had no choice but to brace himself and lead his men forward to clear the path.
Meanwhile, the four players inside the city held up their binoculars like spectators eating melon, curiously watching where the imperial troops entering the city were headed.
A few days ago, the veterans on the official forums had churned out extensive analyses, seemingly convinced that General Alaiyang would make Rowell Camp his primary offensive target, every argument sounding thoroughly sound.
Yet after watching for half the day, they didn't see the troops heading toward Rowell Camp at all—in fact, they were marching farther and farther away from it.
"...Looks like they're heading toward the governor's mansion." Brother Jia Ren turned back toward Yincha, grinning mischievously. "Captain, looks like your prediction went bust!"
Clearly realizing this as well, Yincha stared through his binoculars for a long time, unwilling to give up.
Only when the troops completely vanished from sight did he lower his binoculars, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Holy crap... Are they insane?"
Jia Ren chuckled. "Oh man, looks like my role as Director of Demolition is about to pay off big time."
Out of a budget of one hundred million, he had only spent ninety million. Tossing around stacks of cash, he had wiped out every single building near the governor's mansion, creating an open kill zone of nearly six hundred meters without a shred of cover, covered in stubborn, un-diggable rubble. A single machine gun could pin them down completely. Without armor or artillery, they were literally throwing their bare heads against the wall!
Ban Sui Cuo Tuo scratched the back of his head, utterly unable to wrap his mind around it.
"This makes no damn sense."
Ignoring a crucial strategic objective like Rowell Camp to march straight for the governor's mansion near the port district.
What on earth were they trying to accomplish?
Nearly five thousand-man units—this couldn't possibly be considered a feint.
Yi Bu Deng Tian nodded in bewilderment as well.
"+1."
Jia Ren urged, "Stop with the '+1' and let's get moving!"
The governor's mansion was considered their sector. It wasn't that they were worried about their allies getting overwhelmed, but rather that if they arrived too late, they wouldn't even get a sip of leftover soup.
Ban Sui Cuo Tuo looked at Yincha and pointed at the ground beneath their feet.
"What about here?"
Yincha pondered for a moment, opened his VM screen to report the situation up the chain, then looked at his three teammates.
"Leave it to Sha Bi and his crew to watch... Oh, leave the surveillance cameras for them, and leave one drone behind too."
Meanwhile, in the harbor district of Golden Gallon Port, Fang Chang and Lao Bai received the news regarding the Gray Wolf Army's movements from the front line.
Looking at Fang Chang's speechlessly exasperated face, Lao Bai teased with a grin,
"Looks like our opponent isn't playing by the book this time."
Fang Chang made a helpless gesture.
"I really hate fighting opponents like this. You can never use normal logic to figure out what they're going to do next."
Just like how, even now, he couldn't fathom who gave these guys the courage to launch an undeclared attack, thinking they were clever enough to do it without leaving a trace, only to get thoroughly beaten, refuse to take the loss, and decide to flip the table and go all in.
Of course, this played right into their hands.
If the Emperor of the Xilan Empire had formally admitted fault to the Alliance through diplomatic channels, given the Administrator's temperament, he likely would have agreed to a settlement premised on reparations and an apology. Had that happened, the Burning Corps would have had to stop at a measured counterattack, wrapping up their self-defense operation and returning to Port French Fries with the indemnities.
After all, the telegram previously sent by the Administrator had explicitly instructed them: "Do not proactively escalate the military conflict."
Now, however, the situation had shifted entirely.
Since the other side took the initiative to escalate, they had no need to hold back.
If that "Emperor" believed the Burning Corps' heaviest firepower consisted merely of a few 88mm mortars, he was sorely mistaken.
Twelve 155mm cannons were already deployed at the port.
In addition, six colossal four-meter-tall giant crabs had disembarked along the piers into Golden Gallon Port.
Six sturdy walking legs supported heavy, curved steel carapaces. Above the twin pincer claws hung dual 20mm autocannons, with thick ammunition belts feeding along the joints into drum-style ammo racks flanking the carapace. The cockpit was situated right at the center of the shell.
Standing on the docks, they looked like terrifying beasts baring their fangs and brandishing their claws, their pitch-black metallic carapaces gleaming with a chilling glint under the sunlight.
This brand-new weapon bore the codename "King Crab," formally designated the DWX-1 "King Crab" Amphibious All-Terrain Infantry Armor.
Whether in form or mechanical structure, the machine was carved from the exact same mold as the "Crab" engineering armor recently issued to the Port French Fries underwater construction team.
And that was indeed the reality.
The infantry armor named "King Crab" was a military variant designed using the "Crab" engineering armor as its prototype.
The pilot entered through the crab's rear, operating it in a posture akin to riding a motorcycle, capable of switching freely between joystick controls and neural link operation.
Its battlefield role was envisioned as a multi-purpose platform designed for complex terrain, underwater combat, and amphibious beachhead assaults, while also serving armed transport duties across roadless environments.
Originally, the weapons welded onto the crab's claws were dual bolters equipped with grenade launchers; considering there were no targets in Golden Gallon Port requiring bolters, they had been replaced with 20mm autocannons.
Like the "Crab" engineering armor, these machines could not yet be mass-produced. The core power components, transmission systems, and structural frames had to be fabricated in the processing center on B7 of Shelter 404 before being shipped to the Daybreak City industrial zone for secondary manufacturing.
Because of this, its unit cost exceeded even the "subsidized" Xiaguang powered armor, reaching a staggering two million silver coins!
Had they not raked in a massive haul from "robbing the bank" and prepared for the upcoming war against Torch, they truly wouldn't have brought themselves to splurge on such hardware.
Looking at the six fully prepped "King Crab" armors, a mischievous smirk curved up the corner of Fang Chang's lips.
"Since they don't want to negotiate with us..."
"They might as well help us field-test our new gear."
Chapter 704