Progress on the Southern and Northern Fronts

"Not a bad performance." Inside the captain's quarters of the Heart of Steel, Chu Guang sipped milk-infused black tea while watching the stage play on the holographic screen, an amused expression on his face. "The acting is solid, and the script isn't bad either." "There are just too many hammers and mothers in the dialogue... A local actually wrote this?" He had long grown bored of pre-war movies and TV shows from the real world, and the localized adaptations brought over by the players tended to be mostly cringeworthy. By comparison, he was far more intrigued by the novel creations the wasteland survivors came up with on their own. For instance, Sberg's *Awakened Boer* had been a pleasant surprise. Before that, there were Hal's doggerel verses, and even the picture book the little Honey Badger princess had presented to him—*Thick-Haired Father and Son*. Compared to "imported goods," these homegrown works better reflected the spiritual world of the wastelanders. As the manager, his duty was not merely to guide, but even more so to understand. And in Ms. Han Mingyue's latest sociological research report on Brahma Province, just such a representative work happened to be attached. While an old-fashioned stage play seemed an awkward fit for cutting-edge viewing equipment, on the wasteland it felt surprisingly natural. Back to the play itself. Titled *A Story After the Rainstorm*, it had been written by a Cattle Clan poet who had single-handedly penned the script, crafted the dialogue, and even composed the stage music. The entire story took place within an estate on Tulip Street. According to the play's depiction, that residence was actually Governor Nihak's mansion, and the rainstorm referred both to the rain outside the window and to the "winds" blowing into Golden Gallon Port. Yet the play was not about Governor Nihak and his servants, nor did it touch upon current events or the grand geopolitical landscape. It merely witnessed the close of an era from the perspective of a minor nobleman, using two unfulfilled love stories to highlight the protagonist's bewilderment during this "age of exploration"— Everyone around him was leaving him, but he did not know where to go, let alone where he stood. In a sense, the protagonist's psychological state closely mirrored that of the local old nobility. After landing in Brahma Province, the Alliance had not plundered the locals' property, but the nobles no longer possessed any privileges of the old era, nor did they command the respect and adoration of those around them. Even if they still enjoyed a decent standard of living for the moment, if they failed to adapt to the times, sinking beneath the rising tide would only be a matter of time. At the end of the attached video recording, Han Mingyue had added her perspective as a researcher. "...What interests me is not the plot of the play, but rather the simultaneous shadows of existentialism and nihilism present within it. I believe this work is just as representative as *Red Soil*. The latter represents the voice of the radicals, while the former speaks for the conservatives. Both belong to this era, and both are miniature reflections of the unique cultural phenomena of this period." Switching off the holographic projection, Chu Guang returned his attention to the report written by Ms. Han Mingyue. According to the insights in her latest report, the New Culture Movement in Golden Gallon Port was in full swing, its fervor rivaling the massive local infrastructure projects. The nascent buds of both romanticism and realism had emerged simultaneously in Golden Gallon Port. Furthermore, the former had undergone an evolutionary leap, giving birth to an embryonic form of existentialism. Namely, that beyond human existence itself, there were no self-evident morals or external souls. Morality and the soul were things created by humans in the process of survival, meaning humanity had no obligation to adhere to any specific religion or ritual law. Such ideas had appeared throughout the history of the Human Alliance, but encountering them in the wasteland era following the Era of Prosperity was truly remarkable. At the same time, of course, another extreme had surfaced in Golden Gallon Port—nihilism. Namely, the denial of all meaning, viewing everything humans did as utterly futile and powerless. The survivor culture of Brahma Province had originated from Rowell Camp, and the local survivors took great pride in a culture spanning four million square kilometers. By contrast, Haiya Province, which had frayed the nerves of the three "Fallen Empires," was smaller than a single state within their empire. Even a slave on a farm estate could puff out his chest and scoff that the so-called "Fallen Empires" and their "War in Heaven" were nothing more than deformed crabs brawling inside a cricket cage. Yet when faced with a newly risen survivor faction that had emerged just two and a half years ago, their pride had been smashed into the dirt. Even if they counted the thousand pillars in the City of a Thousand Pillars ten thousand times, they still could not comprehend how, when the Alliance clashed with Torch, a mere casual backdraft from their punches had completely shattered the "Gray Wolf," which the Empire had so proudly revered as its spearhead. Conceit and inferiority were two opposite poles of self-awareness, yet their coexistence in the same individual was not contradictory; rather, they followed each other like shadow and form. Compared to the City of a Thousand Pillars, Rowell Camp—as the symbol of authority—was the true spiritual totem in the hearts of Brahma Province's survivors, even if the locals had never prayed to it and would subconsciously lower their heads and quicken their steps whenever passing its gates. Yet few survivors in Brahma Province realized that prayer was merely an outward form through which believers expressed reverence toward deities; it was not the entirety of faith, nor did it touch faith's essence. People in primitive societies composed myths out of reverence for wildfires and celestial lightning; out of reverence, they offered dances to gods and sacrifices to totems... Neither myths, dances, nor offerings could encompass the essence of faith. Genuine awe—or rather, fear—was the true core. With the Alliance's arrival, the prestige of Rowell Camp had been trampled underfoot. The local old nobles had lost not only their revenue from slaves, but also their spiritual anchor. Presently, the trend of nihilism was spreading through the local upper class, manifesting primarily in music and painting. After all, those two mediums had a higher barrier to entry than written language. The residents of Golden Gallon Port, having only recently learned to write, were still at the stage of learning the Human Alliance language with a heavy "Alliance flavor." "...*A Story After the Rainstorm* is merely a small interlude in my research report. I know you are more concerned with progressive voices rather than the groans of conservative factions. However, I trust in your rationality; you understand that radicalism and extremism are only a step apart, with Torch serving as the clearest example." "At present, the survivors of Golden Gallon Port have reached a consensus to tear down the thousand pillars of the City of a Thousand Pillars. All sectors of society have united around this shared goal like never before. Although I lean toward believing the majority view favors tearing them down in a spiritual sense rather than a physical one, I worry that this movement may spiral out of control, resulting in the destruction of important civilizational ruins and research materials." "Before the site is destroyed, I would like to conduct an on-site inspection to capture video records and documentation. These represent invaluable materials for sociological study... While the results of my research cannot immediately produce practical utility, I still wish to apply for an expansion of regional operational authority, as well as one Viper transport and a twelve-man tactical squad." Chu Guang read the report to the end. He tapped his index finger against the desk and ultimately rejected her request. "...I do not belittle sociological research; on the contrary, I value it immensely. However, we have already signed a ceasefire agreement with the Empire. Rashly crossing the ceasefire line risks dragging the Legion into regional affairs that are already tangled, and could pull the Slime Mold Community into a fresh quagmire when it should be focusing all its efforts on the front line. I cannot approve your request." "Naturally, I will take your recommendations seriously. I will instruct shelter residents operating in the region to support your research through indirect intervention and safeguard new heritage sites from the post-Era of Prosperity." The Church of the Torch was playing for time, hoping for circumstances to shift. The Slime Mold Community had merely completed their encirclement; completely eliminating this menace would take time. If the Alliance ramped up its interference in Brahma Province, the Legion would immediately follow suit to expand its own influence and territory there, which might ultimately disrupt the spontaneous reforms of the local survivors. It was better to preserve the status quo, using Golden Gallon Port to pin down West Sail Port and allowing the local survivors to shape their own future. Besides, the local survivors were doing quite well. The officers sent inland from Golden Gallon Port had reversed the declining fortunes of the Moon Clan resistance, pushing through Tiger State and advancing toward the northeast corner of Brahma Province. According to Fang Chang's report to Xiao Yu at the hearing, the "military strongman" they had invested ten million silver coins to prop up had successfully secured an initial round of private venture capital from Golden Gallon Port and Port French Fries, leveraging nearly twenty million silver coins. He was preparing to establish a "new Golden Gallon Port" at the mouth of the Tasang River in Mammoth State. While the economic potential of this port might not rival Golden Gallon at the mouth of the Everflowing River, it could still project influence across two or three inland states bordering the Tasang River. Though Xiao Yu had not been swayed by this grand vision, several shareholder representatives attending the hearing had been thoroughly enticed and backed Fang Chang without hesitation. Fairly speaking, if they could actually secure another Golden Gallon Port, would spending ten million silver coins be a loss? Not at all! Ideal City possessed deep pockets and could afford to forego expansion, living comfortably behind closed doors while throwing spare cash around the wasteland. But did Dawn City have that kind of wealth? Overseas operations had to expand! Now they had food and minerals; the only thing missing was population. If that Laxi could truly turn the cattle of Brahma Province into human beings, who cared what he was? Could he possibly be more absurd than Wutuo? After seeing the series of physical evidence Fang Chang presented, Xiao Yu had said nothing more. Once he submitted a completed proposal, she revoked the summons. In truth, her actions had been entirely aligned with the Alliance's regulations, free of deliberate bias or suppression. Chu Guang was quite pleased with the outcome. Whether toward the Baiyue Company, Xiao Yu, or the transformation unfolding in Brahma Province under the players' guidance. That place was wasteland all the same; there was no distinction between a main wasteland and a side-quest wasteland. The corruption in Jinchuan Province had originated from Torch in Haiya Province, which ultimately traced back to Qingquan City in River Valley Province—or rather, the Broodmother and Shelter 117 beneath Qingquan City. The Na fruits in Haiya Province came from Baiyue Province, and the key to solving the Na fruit crisis—the Type-B Na fruit strain—likewise originated from that province, specifically from the slime mold broodmother in Baiyue Province that players had yet to discover. Pioneering Baiyue Province relied on the support of the survivors from the Southern Sea, including investigating the ruins of the sunken Tianting space station, the aberrant beasts beneath the waves, and the broodmothers. The same applied to opening up the Great Desert. The Alliance had to bring along those survivors who had once gone there and fled, solving their problems or at least marching alongside those willing to step forward once again. Every event on the wasteland appeared isolated, yet all were interconnected. If they did not take each step carefully, then no matter how much heritage they inherited, they would never return to the starry skies they had once reached... At least, not within his lifetime. *** Days on the battlefield crawled like snails on the tips of leaves. The northern front moved slowly, steadily, bit by bit. Time crept toward late September. The allied forces on the northern front had successfully taken control of the entirety of Laishan City, pushing deep into the heart of Haiya Province along three divergent axes. As it turned out, the allied strategy of attritional warfare was truly effective. Even if representatives of the Legion constantly grumbled that the Alliance was abusing the Slime Mold Community's structure to line its own pockets and develop its industry, their bitter remarks evaporated once they saw the Alliance's casualties on the front line—especially those of the shelter residents. The Enterprise had no objections. Steady, sustained investment paired with predictable yields was precisely what they sought; they feared unexpected risks, not anticipated ones. As for the Academy, no one could guess what they were thinking. Chu Guang himself could deduce perhaps ten or twenty percent at most. Their obsession with secrets matched their devotion to knowledge. The Church of the Torch appeared intent on playing for time, continuing to raise the stakes in the Southern Sea while sending an advance force eastward in an attempt to spread the flames toward Yuema Province. Led by a Forerunner and over a hundred Apostles, this advance force happened to run headlong into the Enterprise's 99th Mechanized Infantry Division. A fierce firefight erupted across the open plains. With their increasingly flashy and formidable gear, the Enterprise troops gained the upper hand, sending the advance force reeling in bitter defeat. A handful of rookie players took part in that battle as mercenaries, reportedly pocketing quite a haul of equipment in the process. In the end, however, most of that gear was bought up at steep prices by firms like Boulder Military Industry for reverse engineering. After all, the defense industry tycoons simply paid far too well. Aside from them, some players had run off to work as mercenaries for the Legion, or even for the Hound Special Forces. A few players with a penchant for unorthodox gameplay had even posted summaries on the official forums, detailing the compensation offered by each faction and the most cost-effective ways to slack off. Among them, the Alliance offered the most stable returns and the smoothest growth curve, as though meticulously calibrated. As the officially anointed "protagonist faction" of the game, it naturally catered to the majority, making it ideal for average players who preferred not to gamble, as well as for large corps. As for the Enterprise, as the wealthy background tycoons and the earliest to strike it rich on the wasteland, even their regular grunts could hand out NPC quests, and they paid the highest wages. The only shortcoming was that the equipment they awarded had somewhat limited combat value. Aside from bionic chips and certain cybernetic implants that were remarkably useful, gear like exoskeletons and light firearms was better off sold for cash. If one was hunting for superior gear, the Academy and the Bugra Free State were far better choices. The former possessed a technological reserve that represented the wasteland's peak, while the latter, shielded by the Great Rift Valley so no one dared attack them, had quietly pilfered quite a bit from the former over the past century. As for the Legion, they offered meager pay and mediocre gear, but players might stumble upon unexpected windfalls, much like Battlefield Atmosphere Group had. After reading the post written by that player, Chu Guang could not help but give it a like. That guy had truly figured out the new expansion, playing the field like a mercenary serving five masters. Naturally, as long as it did not violate the *Player Handbook*, Chu Guang had always encouraged players to step out into the wider world. Still, such minor details had negligible impact on the overall war effort. Chu Guang only kept tabs on them through Xiao Qi and refrained from focusing his attention too closely. Presently, the purified zone in Haiya Province had expanded to 70,000 square kilometers, nearing a tenth of Haiya Province's total area of 670,000 square kilometers. In significance, this was roughly equivalent to conquering the first peak of Ten Peaks Mountain, with far more stubborn summits lying ahead, each more perilous than the last. If only a breakthrough could be achieved on the southern front, Chu Guang thought to himself more than once as he oversaw operations from the front line. Especially now that the submersible carrier Conch was completed, the Meissner effect armor had been successfully installed on the South Sea Alliance's flagship, and the radar stations and missile launchers on Shazhou Island were operational one after another. The timing for a decisive battle had never been better. Just as Chu Guang was pondering whether to urge his southern allies to make a move, a telegram containing an operational plan was abruptly forwarded to Xiao Qi via the dedicated line from Port French Fries. The plan bore the codename "Kraken"—after the most ferocious sea beast in the Southern Sea, roughly equivalent to the River Valley Province's Deathclaw. The author of the plan was none other than South Sea Alliance Navy Commander Li Minghui, whom the South Sea Alliance authorities had granted full command over the Anle Island naval base and the garrison fleet. "...The whaling ships and harpoons for hunting the Kraken have been polished clean. The fleet of the South Sea Alliance is ready to reclaim everything or sacrifice all!" "We plan to launch the final decisive battle in early October, completely wiping out Charas and his cronies who have held the residents of North Island hostage! And we will thoroughly banish the Torch cultists and mutants from the island!" "This operation concerns the future of us all. We need your support!" The telegram comprised a mere three short paragraphs, but the attached operational plan spanned a full dozen pages. It detailed using the captured Reef as bait to create an opening and lure the battleship *Haiya* out of port, suppressing anti-air defenses on the island, providing cover for Alliance ground forces during the amphibious landing, and more. Because Torch forces were present on North Island, the South Sea Alliance hoped Dawn City would serve as the primary ground combat force. Once successful, the close cooperation between the South Sea Alliance and the Alliance would endure, and North Island would serve as a logistical transit hub for the Alliance, acting as a springboard for an assault on the southern coast of Haiya Province. Having read the operational plan through to the end, Chu Guang suddenly burst into laughter. "Brilliantly done!" Perched atop the pen holder, Xiao Qi tilted its head. "Master, do you think their plan is sound?" It felt that the scheme carried a certain degree of risk, with the South Sea Alliance wagering nearly all their chips. The corners of Chu Guang's mouth curled upward. He tapped several times on the holographic screen, dispatching the operational plan to the general staff and the corps commanders on the southern front. "...Whether it's sound or not can't be decided by staring at a map. We'll only know if it works once we try it." Turning to Xiao Qi, he issued two consecutive orders. "Notify the players on the southern front to assemble at Port French Fries! No need to get into specifics—just say the server has launched a new event!" "Also, order the Burning Corps and Goblin Corps to enter campaign preparation status immediately! Be ready for deployment at a moment's notice!" Seeing the excitement gleaming in Chu Guang's eyes, Xiao Qi snapped a crisp Alliance salute, brimming with vigor. "Understood!"