To Deceive Your Opponent, First Deceive Yourself

North Island Naval Command. Hurried footsteps and constant chatter echoed through the crowded, bustling halls. Ever since the Sandbar Island incident, a fuse had been inserted into the powder keg of the Southern Sea; all it needed now was a single spark to ignite. This "quiet" war had entered its most critical stage. The stakes on the table mounted higher and higher, both sides on edge, clutching their cards tightly. At the command nerve center of the entire Federation Navy in particular, many had worked overtime for an entire month without pause. Zhalas had even relocated his office here from the presidential palace, dumping tedious, trivial day-to-day affairs onto the puppet vice president he had appointed. No matter how poorly the administration was run, it wouldn't threaten his seat as president; but if he lost the war, everything would be gone. He knew full well where his priorities lay. Time dragged from September into October. In a few more days, a new destroyer would be launched. It would be the newest and most advanced destroyer in the Federation's history. While not enough to turn the tide of the entire war on its own, it would at least add another chip to his hand. Just as Zhalas was patiently waiting for the moment of decisive battle, an unexpected turn of events occurred. And in a direction favorable to the Federation! The *Reef*, previously captured by the Southern Sea Alliance, suddenly sent a telegram. Not only did it disclose its patrol route and pertinent intelligence on the Southern Sea Alliance, but it also expressed grievance over the Alliance's utter lack of trust in them, as well as an appeal to return to the Federation. Here, one had to mention the Southern Sea Alliance's policy toward this "captured warship." Because the Southern Sea Alliance lacked sufficient officer reserves and had no seasoned sailors capable of fully replacing the *Reef*'s crew, the Alliance authorities had retained 80 percent of the original roster. The remaining 20 percent had been replaced with Alliance overseers, who controlled the destroyer's communications, radar, routine security, and so forth. Currently, the *Reef* was effectively under surveillance. Like a blindfolded donkey, it could only unilaterally receive operational orders from Anle Island Command, unable to participate in discussions of battle plans or voice any input at briefing conferences. The lives of the officers and crew aboard the destroyer were not guaranteed in the slightest. Even the "overseers" monitoring the destroyer *Reef* felt profound unease, along with growing resentment toward the tyrannical Commander Li Minghui. Since both were despots anyway, why not choose the stronger one? Zhang Ruowen, who still served as captain of the destroyer *Reef*, had successfully bribed a radio-operating overseer and, seizing a gap between shifts, dispatched this coded telegram to North Island. Logically and psychologically, it made sense. The captain of the *Reef* hadn't surrendered voluntarily; he had been captured by the Alliance's frogmen. Though he remained in the captain's chair, it was purely out of necessity, and it was only natural that he wasn't trusted. If the Southern Alliance had had any replacement officer capable of filling the captain's post, they would have replaced him without hesitation. In all likelihood, they would have hauled him before a court-martial as well. Naturally, North Island Command hadn't replied immediately. They had waited patiently for several days to confirm that the *Reef* was indeed patrolling along the route indicated in the secret wire before making contact via the communication channel mentioned in the message. Over their communications, both parties coordinated operational details including the rescue route, blocking pursuers, and ensuring the destroyer *Reef* could return intact to North Island's military port. Once successful, this would undoubtedly be a tremendous boost to the morale of North Island's military and civilians! Zhalas had practically overseen the entire rescue operation himself, examining every detail thoroughly to ensure complete foolproof execution. Yet at the very moment action was about to commence, an unsettling tremor stirred within him. Looking at the staff officer standing beside him, he confirmed repeatedly, "Is the intelligence reliable?" The staff officer answered at once, "There shouldn't be any mistake." Zhalas nodded, but feeling his eyelid twitching violently, he couldn't help asking another question. "Could it be a trap?" "It should..." The staff officer had intended to say "It shouldn't be," but after being questioned so many times, even he began to second-guess himself. After hesitating for quite a while, he said, "The probability is very low." Zhalas said suddenly, "In other words, it's not impossible." That went without saying. One could choke to death on a mouthful of food, let alone during an operation with so many intricate steps. "Yes, sir." The staff officer nodded, watching him intently, waiting for his order. Zhalas frowned, lost in thought, suddenly hesitant and indecisive. Nothing had gone right lately. First they lost Sandbar Island, then they lost the *Reef*, plunging the entire Northern Federation into panic. To make matters worse, factions across the wasteland that had historically kept strictly to themselves had suddenly united. Word had it that even the natives of Brahma Province had joined the fray at Ten Peaks Mountain. The situation was turning increasingly unfavorable for the Church of the Torch. Though he didn't know the exact battle status in the north, the fires of war had already breached Haiya Province. No matter how one spun it, it could hardly be interpreted as an advantage. The Church of the Torch was playing for time, hoping to bolster forces in the Southern Sea to pry open strategic space to the south. The same strategy applied to the Southern Sea Alliance. Although their fleet was somewhat inferior in raw strength, they could simply stall him and maintain the stalemate. Once the war against Torch concluded, everything would naturally come to an end. The southern pressure fell entirely on his shoulders... Even if only for his own sake, he had to help the Church of the Torch open up strategic space to the south. Just as he was about to make a decision, a deafening voice suddenly rang in his ear. "Idiot! It's a trap!" Arzu appeared beside Zhalas out of nowhere, giving him a start. Only Zhalas could see that pale-golden figure. The onlookers around cast puzzled glances his way, wondering what had come over him so suddenly. Zhalas jolted awake to reality, a drop of cold sweat slowly trickling down his forehead. That was close! He had almost fallen for it! Actually, he should have realized it earlier; even before Arzu spoke, he had vaguely sensed something amiss. During the previous landing operation on Sandbar Island, Captain Zhang Ruowen of the *Reef* had blatantly refused to execute his order; instead of bombarding the settlement, he had dropped his shells onto the outskirts beyond it. The mutants landing ashore had drawn concentrated fire from the Alliance airborne forces, resulting in an entire thousand-man unit being wiped out. That fellow already had a precedent of outwardly complying while inwardly defying his orders. How could he have had a change of heart now? If he feared being court-martialed by the Southern Sea Alliance, wasn't he afraid of facing Zhalas's retribution? Seeing Zhalas remain silent, Arzu, standing beside him like a ghost, spoke slowly. "I planted a Sanctuary within Zhang Ruowen... He has already defected to the Southern Sea Alliance. The so-called defection is nothing but bait. They intend to lure your battleship *Haiya* out of port, and then, coordinated with their new weapon—a giant submarine capable of launching and recovering carrier aircraft—sink it." Sanctuaries were independent of one another, but when network connectivity was unobstructed, information exchange occurred without the hosts' control. Just a moment ago, when the North Island military base made its scheduled contact with the destroyer *Reef*, he had perceived the message transmitted by the chip inside Zhang Ruowen—the so-called defection was bait. The Southern Sea Alliance fleet was lying in ambush nearby! Zhalas narrowed his eyes, casting a sidelong glance at Arzu. "When did this happen?" Arzu replied calmly, "Just recently." Zhalas paused, then asked word by word, "What I am asking is: when did you plant a Sanctuary in my officer's head?" Facing that interrogative gaze, Arzu chuckled, the corner of his mouth curving in mockery. "He was already an apostle of Torch before the Federation tore itself apart... Why interrogate me with that tone? Besides, if I hadn't planned ahead and deployed this early on, you and your fleet would have already blundered blindly into the Southern Sea Alliance fleet's trap like a headless fly. You should thank me for saving your life." Zhalas sneered. "I didn't need your reminder to figure out it was a trap." "Is that so?" Arzu smiled noncommittally and vanished soundlessly from the command table, as if he had never been there at all. Pairs of eyes watched Zhalas. All the officers were waiting for their chief's command. Reining in his turbulent emotions, Zhalas cleared his throat, surveyed the officers gathered around the table, and said in a measured tone, "This is a trap!" A stir rippled through the command room. The officers exchanged glances of astonishment. "Indeed, that possibility cannot be ruled out..." The fleet commander stroked his chin, his expression turning solemn. The staff officer beside him nodded as well. "I think so too..." Just moments ago, they had been discussing operational details; now they abruptly executed a 180-degree turn, chiming in that there was likely treachery afoot, analyzing it with reason and eloquence, speaking with absolute conviction. Seeing how swiftly these fellows changed course, Zhalas's brow twitched violently, though he said nothing. Inwardly, he was lucid enough: this was an inevitable problem faced by nearly every autocrat. Once people were stamped with the mental imprint of "obedience above all," they were destined to lose the capacity for contrary thinking. One could hardly expect them to maintain hive-mind unity like worker bees while simultaneously offering opinions divergent from the queen bee on how to build the comb—even within their own professional fields. By becoming a tyrant, he was doomed to hear only what he wanted to hear. People would only echo his words, whether consciously or unconsciously, even in "specialized areas" where he wished for differing insights. Thus, when he said they would rescue the *Reef*, even the most seasoned officers hadn't dared think contrary to his direction; they had only pondered *how* to rescue it, never *whether* it should be rescued. Fortunately, he had realized in time; otherwise, he would have stepped right into the pit dug by the other side. "Are we abandoning the *Reef*?" The fleet commander looked toward Zhalas, cautiously inquiring after his boss's opinion. Just like the decision to rescue it earlier, the premise that "the *Reef* is a trap" had now become the new undisputed truth. "Abandon it? Why abandon it?" Zhalas smiled faintly, continuing in a deliberate voice. "To strike more efficiently, the Southern Sea Alliance fleet must be lying in ambush somewhere near the *Reef*, including that submarine capable of launching carrier planes mentioned in the intelligence." The officers exchanged glances, muttering in hushed murmurs. That was indeed possible. Or rather, practically certain. Looking around at his officers, Zhalas clenched his right fist and brought it down heavily onto the command table, his voice tinged with excitement. "Gentlemen! It is a trap, but it is also an opportunity! The traitors to the south do not yet know that we have seen through their trickery. Our dagger is already at their throats! The new operational plan will be code-named 'Running Aground'! It will proceed concurrently with 'Tropic'! Reply to the *Reef*! Tell them we are ready, and instruct them to proceed to our designated coordinates for rendezvous!" The officers snapped to attention and saluted. "Yes, sir!" *** Across the surging waves of the sea, a solitary warship sailed slowly northwest. Zhang Ruowen suddenly felt that this ship resembled him, or perhaps he resembled this ship. He did not know where he was truly supposed to go. This confusion had grown even stronger after Zhalas issued his new manifesto. Over the past two hundred years, the survivors of the Southern Sea had strived for so much, yet everything seemed in vain; in the end, they were still repeating the mistakes of two centuries past. The Federation was born in flame, only to tear itself apart in even fiercer flames. Opposed by their foes, they had turned to Torch, yet that scalding energy had burned them all. So what was the point of all this? "... Your confusion is only natural. The root of all error lies within the human species itself. This is a limit determined by biology. Old humans belong only to Earth and are fit only to live on Earth. If a fish wishes to walk on land, it must evolve limbs; yet limbs alone are not enough to venture into the distant stars. We still lack a revolution in the very form of our own life." The serene voice drifted from the depths of his sea of consciousness like a heavenly gospel, bringing him a moment of tranquility. Zhang Ruowen glanced sideways at the old man standing inside the captain's cabin, smiling faintly. "Then why haven't you simply given up your flesh like the rest of your kind?" He knew this man was a high-ranking member of the Church of the Torch. Moreover, he was the only apostle who had obtained Sanctuary clearance without becoming a Pioneer. "That would be too extreme," Arzu said, shaking his head slowly. "In their haste to draw a line between themselves and humanity, they placed themselves at a disadvantage instead. If it were up to me, I would utilize human identity to the utmost to reclaim the heritage of the old civilization, and only then implement the final revolution." If his methods had been followed, Torch might not have been able to deceive the Academy, but deceiving Enterprise would have been well within reach. The residents of Ideal City still carried a degree of guilt over what had happened 150 years ago; otherwise, they wouldn't pour money across the wasteland, let alone try to right the wrongs of the past. As for the Legion, they could be bought off with the technology the Wilante craved and promises of dominion over the Great Rift Valley. Even if the Eastern Expansion faction failed, beyond the Eastern Legion there remained a considerable number of Wilante thirsting for "vengeance" against the Reconstruction Committee. Toppling the Great Rift Valley and throwing off their suzerain's shackles was also what the Free State desired; they could easily have formed a tacit community of shared interest, just as they had during the Bone Chewer Turmoil. Had that happened, no matter what tricks the Alliance pulled, they never could have assembled an encirclement net like the one today. Alas, those Pioneers held themselves in far too high esteem, believing that "advanced thought and concepts" would inevitably triumph over the old, mistakenly treating things that had not yet passed into history as historical inevitabilities. And this was the end result. In the end, it still fell upon him, a human who retained his physical flesh, to turn the tide. Arzu sighed softly to himself. Fortunately, he had used a few tricks; otherwise, the situation would almost certainly have deteriorated beyond redemption. His other self on the chip should have already alerted Zhalas, and North Island should now be aware that the entire operation was a ruse. The Southern Sea Alliance likely had no inkling that the *Reef*'s captain was actually his apostle. Nor did this apostle suspect that all of his secrets were known to Arzu. The two stood in silence, each harbored their own thoughts as they gazed at the surging waves beyond the bridge. Just then, footsteps sounded from the corridor. The adjutant pushed the door open, saluting crisply, his expression grave. "Reporting, sir! As ordered, we have transmitted the 'signal'... North Island Naval Base has replied, confirming receipt of our request. The destroyer *Flying Fish* is reinforcing toward the designated coordinates." "Understood." Zhang Ruowen nodded. "Proceed as planned." The bait plan was strictly confidential. On the entire destroyer, no one except him knew the code name "Kraken," let alone realized they were the bait. Even his close confidants only knew they were supposed to defect to the north, while the majority of the enlisted sailors didn't even realize the ship had diverged from its patrol lane, much less that its movements were now exposed to the sights of the Northern Federation fleet. Everything was part of the plan. Seeing Zhang Ruowen's expressionless face, the adjutant hesitated briefly before speaking in a low voice. "Sir..." Zhang Ruowen said casually, "What is it?" The adjutant fell quiet for a moment, then went on. "Is doing this... truly right?" Zhang Ruowen looked at him, raising an eyebrow slightly. "In what sense?" "I don't believe Zhalas will trust you any more than General Li Minghui does... If we return to North Island, we may receive a nominal welcome, but our actual circumstances could be even worse. And..." The adjutant hesitated, seemingly unsure if this was his place to speak. But after a brief silence, he gritted his teeth and voiced his thoughts. "And I feel... compared to Zhalas, the manifesto championed by the Southern Alliance is what we truly need." What they needed was not false compromise and unity, but genuine alliance! Hearing this, Zhang Ruowen fell silent for a moment, as if waiting for something. And right at the moment the hour and minute hands overlapped, he suddenly let out a hearty laugh, then said in a soft voice, "Good. That's very good." The adjutant blinked. "Very good?" Zhang Ruowen nodded, smiling faintly as he continued. "You've begun thinking about our future. That's good... Though I haven't figured out where my future lies, at least someone is thinking about it. Perhaps my confusion is only temporary." Looking at the bewildered adjutant, he went on, "The reason I sided with Zhalas before was largely because I didn't know what else to do either. I thought perhaps a sufficiently unyielding fellow with some competence could do the thinking for all of us... At least he wouldn't be indecisive like Mengge, or like our cabinet, squabbling from dusk till dawn without accomplishing a single thing. 'Maybe that guy isn't so bad,' I thought initially. 'Maybe he can lead us to a brighter future.' But then I realized... that was merely my own laziness and illusion. That fool isn't any smarter than any of us. The mistakes we made through arguing, he makes as well—repeatedly, again and again, quietly committing them without a sound." Word had it that the survivors of the Southern Sea had begun stepping outward as well, carrying the legacy of the Era of Prosperity to change others on the wasteland, to unite more people. If Zhalas had his way, he likely never would have allowed them to do that. That fellow still delusionally schemed to establish a vast thalassocratic empire once the Alliance was dealt with, using biological technology supplied by Torch to stand as an equal alongside the Legion, Enterprise, and the Academy—treating the survivors of the Southern Sea merely as pawns and chips on his chessboard. How petty... both in capability and ambition. He was already president of the Federation, yet he didn't even dare to dream bigger! Clearly there was a vaster sea of stars above their heads, yet that man could see only the puddle beneath his feet. If they followed someone like that, they could abandon any hope of ever returning to the stars where their ancestors had once walked! The corner of Zhang Ruowen's mouth curled into a smile. He was immeasurably grateful that he had made the right choice back then—by hesitating for those two seconds when he received Zhalas's order. Seeing the smile on his face, however, the adjutant asked with a bitter chuckle, "If you think Zhalas is untrustworthy, are you still going to choose him in the end?" He did not agree with his commander's defection, but by now it seemed too late for words. The *Reef* had entered radio silence, severing all communication with the Southern Sea Alliance. Even if Commander Li Minghui were slow on the uptake, he would surely realize by now that the *Reef* had mutinied. At present, only North Island Command knew their position and course. They could only see this dark path through to the end. Or so it seemed to him. "You've only seen the surface... It's natural you'd think that." Zhang Ruowen drew out his binoculars, gazed northward, and paused before continuing, "There's no longer any need to keep the secret... I can tell you plainly: we are merely the bait. A decisive battle code-named 'Kraken' has already begun! Pass my order! All hands to general quarters! Prepare to engage the warship coming to rendezvous with us!" Just as he expected, as the adjutant met his burning gaze, an expression of shock washed over the officer's face. The same went for the other officers on the bridge; caught completely unprepared by this sudden revelation, none had expected a routine patrol—or supposed defection—to turn into the final decisive battle against the Northern Federation! Except for one person. That was Arzu, whom only Zhang Ruowen could see. The old man's facial muscles gradually contorted into a sinister grin reminiscent of the sea beast Kraken. As expected! This fellow truly was faking a surrender to spring a trap! He had finally shown his hand! Before entering radio silence, Arzu had already informed North Island Naval Command. As long as these fools continued along their original course, what awaited them would not be the destroyer *Flying Fish*, but the cruiser *Kraken*! It was an anti-ship vessel designed specifically to counter destroyers! Over the past century, what Shelter 70 had feared most was not just the Legion that overthrew the Reconstruction Committee, but the survivors of the Southern Sea themselves. To that end, they had engineered a series of mutually checking and balancing armaments to guard against the survivors using shelter-derived technology against the shelter itself. Meanwhile, the battleship *Haiya*, escorted by the destroyers *Flying Fish* and *Defend*, would confront the Southern Sea Alliance's surface and subsurface ambush forces simultaneously! No matter how formidable that submarine carrier and its aircraft were, they were no match for destroyers designed specifically for anti-submarine warfare. And if it surfaced, it would be even more doomed! As for the cruiser *Harpoon* and the two other destroyers screening the submarine, they were mere jokes before the main guns of the battleship *Haiya*! Arzu looked smilingly at Captain Zhang Ruowen, only to find the latter looking back at him. That expressionless face held no ripples of emotion. Yet just then, Arzu noticed an unusual smile creeping onto those calm lips. This man was smiling! He could still smile? Suddenly, a realization struck Arzu, and his incorporeal pupils constricted sharply. Wait— Code name Kraken?! The operation code name for the Southern Sea Alliance's bait plan was actually Kraken! This was no coincidence! There was only one explanation: these people had been gunning for the cruiser *Kraken* from the very beginning! They had anticipated his and Zhalas's anticipation! They had calculated that Zhalas would never trust the *Reef*, and had even factored in that Arzu could read the thoughts in an apostle's mind to leak the intelligence... even though the Church of the Torch had never revealed that secret to anyone! Even Zhalas didn't know! "I imagine you're quite astonished right now as to how I concealed the operation's code name from you, aren't you?" Watching the smile on that face morph from ecstasy into terror, Zhang Ruowen spoke in an undertone. Without severing the conscious connection, Arzu's Adam's apple bobbed. He nodded slowly. Zhang Ruowen dismissed it with a wave, continuing casually, "To deceive your opponent, you must first deceive yourself... To tell you the truth, I only learned what this operation's code name was a moment ago." "How is that possible?!" Arzu glared fixedly at him, only to realize to his horror that Zhang was not lying. A terrifying conjecture surfaced in his mind, accompanied by the phantom drop of cold sweat trickling down. Zhang Ruowen continued, "Since you already knew it was an ambush, the vessel coming to 'rendezvous' with me would never be another destroyer. Neither the *Flying Fish* nor the *Defend* would do—engaging another destroyer would take too long to resolve. Nor could it be the battleship... That fellow Zhalas would never risk exposing the only precious jewel in his hands away from fleet escort just to eliminate a single destroyer. Thinking along those lines, it could only be the *Kraken*. After all, you clearly declared that the ship coming to 'rendezvous' with me would be an anti-submarine destroyer. Meanwhile, convinced that our plan hadn't leaked, we would never have positioned any submarine near the *Reef*, but would surely have laid an ambush farther away. Thus, even though the *Kraken*'s anti-submarine capabilities are weak, it would have ample time to sink us, turn around immediately, rejoin your nearby ambush fleet, and lure the Southern Sea Alliance's surface and submarine forces into your trap." Had that played out, it would undoubtedly have been a disaster. The Southern Sea Alliance's submarine would be powerless against Northern Federation destroyers, and the Southern Sea Alliance's sole cruiser, the *Harpoon*, was no match for the battleship *Haiya*. The entire battle would have concluded as cleanly and decisively as a game of rock-paper-scissors, without the slightest suspense. Yet precisely because of this, they could turn the tables and exploit it—exploiting Zhalas's anticipation of the "Southern Sea Alliance's anticipation"! If he wasn't mistaken, a Southern Sea Alliance submarine was lurking nearby at this very moment, its sights already locked onto the *Kraken*, which was approaching under the guise of the *Flying Fish*! "Li Minghui never told me the code name for this operation. Everything was just my deduction. If the code name had actually been Flying Fish or something else, it would have meant I gambled wrong." Looking at the terror-stricken Arzu, Zhang Ruowen gazed past that incorporeal face toward the rolling waves outside the bridge—and toward the *Kraken* lurking beyond them. A faint smile graced his lips. "But your reaction tells me that I guessed right!"