Landing on the Death Coast!

"Looks like quite a lot has been happening on the wasteland lately... in places we didn't know about." Inside the captain's cabin aboard the *Heart of Steel*. Having listened to the recording Fang Chang had sent over, Chu Guang smiled with the fond satisfaction of an old father, though his handsome, dashing face showed not the slightest trace of age. "Indeed..." Perched on Chu Guang's right shoulder, Xiao Qi gently swung her little legs, resting her chin in her hands as she added leisurely, "...It feels like it won't be long before Master can retire and focus on keeping Xiao Qi company." "Hahaha." Chu Guang chuckled merrily, casually dismissing the holographic interface before him. Teasing the little sprite on his shoulder, he said, "As for my retirement, I'm afraid that's still a long way off... but it probably won't be long before I can enjoy a retired lifestyle ahead of schedule." To tell the truth, back when he had first recruited that bunch, he had never imagined they would be so capable—at times, they could even anticipate his anticipation. Though the forum was never short of over-imaginative conspiracy theorists blindly guessing that only "dragons among men, reincarnated soldier kings, and the Dragon God's matrilocal sons-in-law" could secure a helmet, the reality was that anyone had a chance in the lottery so long as they weren't completely unhinged. Compared to tycoons and luminaries who were already wildly successful in the real world, he leaned toward giving ordinary people a shot at starting a second life. After all, what gratitude could compare to the grace of being remade? Even from the perspective of mere "brand loyalty," the players filtered through this selection mechanism were far more inclined to be "guardians of order" within the virtual community of *Wasteland Online*, rather than disruptors of the established order. And in truth, that was more than enough. The wasteland was never lacking in geniuses; what it lacked was "normal people." He had never expected to conjure a flawless utopia out of thin air using a gathering of genius minds. All he needed was for his little players to do their best within their capabilities and handle the tasks at hand properly. Yet, low though his expectations were, this bunch of players constantly managed to exceed them time and time again. Chu Guang could not help musing that, before long, he—the faction's ultimate boss—might not even need to make appearances anymore. His clever little players had not only learned to update game content themselves, but had even begun designing "rules of the game" for the NPCs. Right then, an incoming communication request from the Alliance General Staff flashed in the upper right corner of the holographic screen. Seeing a call come in, Xiao Qi let out an energetic "Heup!", hopped down from Chu Guang's shoulder with practiced tact, and settled back onto the pen holder by the corner of the desk. Without hesitation, Chu Guang tapped the answer button with his index finger. Light-blue holographic beams quickly wove together in midair, sketching out a bust of Lao Bai. He was still clad in his Dragoon power armor, with the XB-1 "Roarer" bolter slung over his shoulder, and the hold of a landing ship visible behind him. Gazing at Chu Guang with solemn reverence, Lao Bai stood in full battle gear, planting the bolter at his side and striking his chestplate with his right fist in a military salute. "...Respected Manager, the southern front forces have fully assembled! Awaiting your command, we are ready at any moment to take the coastline of Haiya Province for you!" The plan and operation codename for the amphibious assault had been determined long ago; Chu Guang had reviewed it a month earlier and signed his name to it. And leading up to this day, the players stationed on North Island had rehearsed for the imminent battle countless times. Lao Bai was probably thinking this might be featured in a promotional trailer for the game, which was why he played the part so convincingly, even making a point to call in right before kickoff. Refusing to treat his earnestness lightly, Chu Guang straightened his expression, meeting the anticipation in Lao Bai's eyes with solemn gravity. "Very good! I already see victory in your eyes. The people of the Alliance await your triumphant return—do not fail their expectations!" "Commence the operation!" With eyes burning as he met Chu Guang's commanding gaze, Lao Bai snapped to attention and cleanly shut his helmet's visor and optics. It was the hallmark sign of power armor entering combat mode. "Sir, yes sir!" ... Meanwhile, in a hall bathed in holy light, thirteen extraordinarily crafted chairs were arranged around a circular conference room. Yet only ten people were seated at the conference table. The three absentees were Luo Qian, the "Beast King," and the "Human Emperor," who was currently directing operations on the northern front of Haiya Province. And right at the center of the conference table stood a phantom projection, its dark gray robe looking completely out of place against the sea of white robes surrounding it. Faced with those pairs of scrutinizing gazes, Alzu felt his scalp prickle. The situation today was completely different from when he had stood here a year ago. Back then, Luo Qian had just suffered defeat, the Jinhe City parish had fallen, and these Pioneers had begun doubting whether they had taken the wrong path. That was how he had been able to stand here with righteous conviction and propose the concept of a "Second Temple." Not only did the Pioneers seated here lack the confidence to refute him, but the Holy Son had also granted him ample trust and support, handing over the Southern Sea parish entirely to his management. During that time, working alongside Zhalas, he had indeed produced many good things—such as arming mutants using the technologies possessed by the survivors of the Southern Sea. These were all his achievements. Even if the Southern Sea parish's subsequent performance had been a complete mess, no one could deny his contributions to the Church of the Torch. Yet therein lay the problem. The performance in the Southern Sea parish had been so disastrous that it overshadowed all his accomplishments. With Zhalas defeated and North Island captured by the Alliance, the Church of the Torch had thoroughly lost the opportunity to pry open strategic room to the south. Now, they were like crickets trapped inside a cage, surrounded on all sides by people who wanted nothing more than to send them to the gallows... Under the weight of those skeptical gazes, Alzu swallowed hard and forced himself to speak. "The Southern Sea can no longer be relied upon... Our indoctrination doesn't work on the locals." Attempting to justify his failure, he spoke rapidly. "They are completely different from the survivors in Haiya Province or even Jinchuan Province. For them, the wasteland ended long ago. The locals are no longer wastelanders in the classic sense; they are all residents of Shelter 70... This was different from our initial assessment." Not only did it fail to work, but he had even been manipulated and played for a fool by a certain destroyer captain, passing false intelligence to Zhalas. Those fishermen were far more cunning than he had imagined, playing him like a kraken in the sea. "...However, we have not lost yet. It is merely that our plan to study the expansion of Na fruit hyphae into the ocean must be put on hold for now." Taking a deep breath, Alzu looked around at the Pioneers and continued gravely, "What about heading west? Since taking Coral City in the short term is no longer realistic... I propose that we make a strategic shift to the west." With that, he flicked his index finger, unfurling a map before him and pointing at the location of Brahma Province. "This land borders Silver Moon Bay. Just across a stretch of sea lies the eastern edge of the Great Desert, and heading straight along the equator leads to the center of the old world—the ruins of the space elevator... It is said that a group calling themselves the Enlightenment Society is active in that region. Like us, they have explored leads regarding the Torch Project; they should be able to understand our plight. "Though we have fundamental disagreements on core issues, if we can establish contact with them, at least we won't have to face the pressure of the MRC alone. "Furthermore, Brahma Province has an enormous population of survivors. While they may be somewhat dull-witted and unable to assist our research on a technical level, they would serve well enough as breeding grounds for mutants. Therefore..." Alzu drew a deep breath and scanned the Pioneers seated around the table. "I believe that would be a fine destination..." The conference room fell silent for a time, without the faintest sound. Had he not known full well that these Pioneers had no need for sleep, he would have almost thought the old fogies had dozed off. The one who broke the silence was the Holy Son, seated at the head of the conference table. The man sighed and gently shook his head. "...It is useless." Alzu froze. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he said anxiously, "How could it be useless—" "Because the plan you propose was discussed by us long ago." Interrupting him with an unquestionable tone, the Holy Son tapped his index finger in the air. Light-blue beams of light lanced forward, tracing out the full terrain and topography of Brahma Province within breaths—and in its Wasteland Era state, no less. This map was far more detailed than the thumbnail floating before Alzu; one could even make out the mountains and rivers across the land. Evidently, Apostles of the Torch had visited the region before, reaching this conclusion only after thorough investigation. Looking at the Apostle standing stunned in place, the Holy Son continued in a calm voice: "Roughly a decade ago, we considered choosing Brahma Province—untouched by the Post-War Reconstruction Committee—as our starting point. "It possesses a vaster land area than Haiya Province, and far more wastelanders living in chaos... Most crucially, it lies far from the gaze of the Enterprise, the Academy, and the Great Rift Valley. Though there was a risk of drawing the Legion's attention, the Legion was unlikely to move against us. And even if they wished to strike, the Great Desert lay between us; in an actual clash, they might not necessarily be our match." "Then why?" Alzu looked at the Holy Son, asking urgently. "Why didn't we go there?" Had it been there, the Academy would have been nowhere near as quick to target them! It might have taken until they expanded into Sunset Province before they were even discovered! Granted, that might have introduced other variables, but compared to their current predicament, those were hardly worth mentioning. Faced with Alzu's bewilderment, the Holy Son's voice took on a rare trace of helplessness. "Because of... the red soil." Red soil? Alzu stared blankly. What did this have to do with red soil?! Yet no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than realization suddenly struck him. Could it be— As if confirming his suspicion, the Holy Son gently clenched his right hand into a fist. The map of Brahma Province hovering before him crumpled like paper, transforming into a clump of red earth. "Brahma Province has a unique kind of soil—or rather, a fungus attached to the soil. It has virtually no effect on ordinary living organisms, but it leaches all nutrients from the soil and inhibits the growth of all other microorganisms within it... such as Clostridium tetani, Clostridium botulinum, and the like. Like animal carcasses buried within the red soil, they are all digested by it." The absence of various harmful pathogens or viruses was, in fact, one of the reasons red soil could be consumed directly. After all, under normal circumstances, humans couldn't eat soil not merely because they couldn't digest it, but largely because harmful substances in the soil could cause poisoning or even death. And the wonder of red soil was that while accumulating a modest amount of nutrients, it killed off the vast majority of harmful substances. In other words, if Na fruit came up against this stuff, in all probability it too would be consumed by the red soil and converted into more of it. Staring at the Holy Son in astonishment, Alzu's Adam's apple bobbed as he struggled to force words from his mouth. "How... how is that possible? That garbage-like substance could actually counter the fruits of research we spent over a decade perfecting?" "Yet it is the truth." Looking into those shocked pupils, the Holy Son sighed softly. "Furthermore, do not underestimate that creation. It was the product of scholars from the Era of Prosperity, completed in the early days of the Wasteland Era. You know well how capable those scholars were; Singularity-level technology was something they came within inches of touching, yet ultimately failed to reach." The Apostle named You'er, captured by the Alliance and imprisoned somewhere in River Valley Province, was one such scholar from the Era of Prosperity. The anti-radiation agent and radiation remover he had completed in the early days of the Wasteland Era remained, two centuries later, the "most economically optimal solution" for cleansing radiation damage across the wasteland. "...According to the results of our experiments, the Na fruit hyphae would be devoured by the red soil just like corpses and excrement buried within it. Unless we find a technical means for the hyphae to consume the red soil, the rapidly spreading hyphae will only serve as fertile ground accelerating the red soil's propagation, causing the latter to spread like weeds across the savannah of Brahma Province." Pausing briefly, the Holy Son continued, "This runs completely contrary to our ideals, and it is pointless." The Church of the Torch's philosophy was to ascend the human species into a higher form of existence, not to turn into an edible lump of shit. Thus, they had ultimately abandoned their plan to enter Brahma Province, opting instead for the compromised choice of Haiya Province as the first stepping stone for Heaven's advent. Though General Lowell could obviously never have known what would happen two centuries later, by a strange twist of fate, he had once again saved the survivors of Brahma Province. Alzu swallowed hard, speaking with difficulty. "...What if we removed the red soil manually first?" If they cleared away the red soil before cultivating the Na fruit— "That would be the most foolish act of the century," the Holy Son cut him off without hesitation, continuing, "That substance can only be left to fade away naturally over time. We experimented for years without finding a biological solution." In truth, even if they found one now, it would be utterly meaningless. Starting anew in Brahma Province right under the noses of all the major factions would be no easier than holding out against the siege of the MRC. This was not merely his opinion; the other nine Pioneers seated at the table shared the exact same thought. Yet hearing his response, Alzu's face turned to despair. Noticing his expression, the Holy Son frowned slightly. "Has something happened?" Alzu remained silent for a long moment, a bitter expression creeping onto his face. "The Alliance's forces are massing on North Island in the Southern Sea. I fear—" Before his sentence was finished, the words died on his lips. His entire figure seemed to disconnect from the meeting, his ethereal silhouette flickering and distorting erratically. Witnessing the sudden change, puzzled expressions rippled across the faces gathered around the table, none of them knowing what had happened. "Is it a chip malfunction?" "What on earth is Alzu playing at?!" "For such an important meeting, couldn't he at least find a spot with better signal?!" "That's why I keep saying keeping a mortal body is an absolute nuisance..." Murmurs spread across the conference table. Seeing that Alzu failed to reconnect after an extended pause, displeasure surfaced on the faces of the Pioneers. This fellow was wasting far too much of their time! Yet the Holy Son, seated at the head of the table, frowned slightly. In his ethereal eyes, a faint glint of foreboding flickered. By all rights, he could sense the presence of every single chip. Yet just now, he had suddenly lost all sense of Alzu... ... High above Haiya Province, an orange-red streak pierced the sky like a sword. With a sudden, violent boom, a blinding white light flashed, and a wide-area electromagnetic pulse instantly blanketed tens of thousands of square kilometers below. "Augh...?" The blue-skinned mutants roaming the coastline halted whatever they were doing, raising their grotesque heads. Something seemed to have detonated above them, yet it had no effect on them at all, leaving perplexed looks across their faces. What had just happened? Elsewhere, in an underground facility not far from the coastline, Alzu snapped his eyes open, a flicker of shock and suspicion rising in his clouded pupils. An EMP! The data transmission volume of bionic chips was limited, and given the nature of their materials, they were hardly affected by wide-area electromagnetic pulses. However, bionic chips were not the entirety of the Sanctuary; beyond the chips, there were signal base stations. Only over short distances could chips construct a distributed network via peer-to-peer direct links—for instance, when all chip-bearers were located within the same settlement. Once the physical distance stretched beyond a dozen kilometers, they had to rely on signal base stations to achieve domain-to-domain connectivity. This was an inescapable law of physics. At the same time, communication modules that constantly transmitted and received electromagnetic waves were far more vulnerable to EMPs than data processing modules. To make matters worse, when the EMP struck, Alzu happened to be attending the Sanctuary meeting. To daisy-chain all the chips and minimize blind spots, almost all the signal base stations had been active. This single EMP had knocked him completely offline! What was more, he was currently situated inside an underground facility and relied on signal repeaters to interface with the external chip clusters. Even if the wired sections remained intact, the wireless segments had been virtually wiped out... This was no longer a tactical strike; it had to be a strategic-grade weapon. "Damn it... of all times, why now?!" Realizing the gravity of the situation, cold sweat broke out across Alzu's forehead. He sprang to his feet, dashed through the long, dark corridor, and rushed into a surveillance room. Screens covering an entire wall were partitioned into over a hundred tiles of varying sizes, and more than ninety percent of them displayed static fuzz. A technician sitting by the surveillance terminal looked at Alzu trembling in fear. "...We don't know what happened just now. It suddenly turned out like this..." Alzu grabbed him by the collar, glaring directly into his eyes. "And before that?! Did any image appear on the feeds?!" Choked by the collar, the man stammered, unable to squeeze out a coherent word. Another staff member seated nearby piped up nervously: "I... I think I saw a flash of white light... coming from the direction of North Island." North Island! Alzu's complexion changed drastically. He plunged his consciousness into the chip inside his brain, linking up with every mind he could reach within this underground facility. "Transfer all surface materials underground! Sound the physical alarms! Order beachhead forces to enter full combat readiness!" They're here! The Alliance is here! His shoulders trembled uncontrollably, a tremor of agitation surfacing in his clouded eyes. Yet it was not entirely from fear; part of it was exhilaration. Back in Jinhe City, he had cleaned up Luo Qian's mess and fought against the Alliance. Unfortunately, by the time he had taken over the reins, defeat was already irreversible. This time, however, was different. Every defense along the Death Coast had been arranged by his own hand. The chance to wash away his past humiliation was right before him! He ought to be glad— No, what did he mean "ought to"? He was ecstatic! "Hehehe... They're finally here." Clamping his right hand around his left wrist, Alzu let out a crazed laugh. Watching their boss shaking uncontrollably, several workers in the surveillance room swallowed nervously. While the Alliance was indeed a formidable foe, did the guy really have to shake like a madman...? ... The strategic-grade EMP warhead carried by the "Dragon" missile launched from North Island hadn't scored a bullseye out of mere luck. The timing and coordinates of the strike had been precisely calculated to maximize destruction against the enemy communication systems along the Death Coast. In fact, ever since Alliance forces had landed on North Island, the communication base stations erected there had been continuously monitoring electromagnetic signals from Haiya Province. While the Church of the Torch's encryption was formidable—unbroken even by the pooled talent of the MRC coalition—in a largely "desolate" province, identifying when the Church held its "meetings" was ridiculously easy. All they had to do was target the peak spikes in electromagnetic activity, bombing wherever the signals were densest. Just as everyone had anticipated, this single EMP blast left the mutants along the coastline completely bewildered, standing motionless in place for ages. Evidently, with their information nodes knocked out, the frontline troops couldn't receive any signals from command. Inside the North Island Combat Command Center: Staff seated before control terminals exchanged excited, tense reports. "EMP detonated successfully! Strike effectiveness confirmed!" "Air force has arrived over target airspace! Enemy communications facilities and active target illumination radars have been eliminated!" "Outstanding work!" "Transmit ground scan data to the frontline landing forces!" "Synchronizing now!" Meanwhile, across azure waters, eight landing ships advanced toward the Death Coast under the escort of the Southern Sea Alliance fleet. Thick, elongated gun barrels jutted forward like lances of heavy cavalry, aiming steadily toward the coastline in the distance. General Li Minghui, wartime president of the Southern Sea Alliance, stood on the bridge of the cruiser *Harpoon*. And he was not alone. His mysterious and wealthy "old friend," Duke Nihak, also stood upon that bridge. Although Nihak had personally requested to board the vessel and observe the battle, standing here now, his legs could not stop trembling. The bewildered look on his face lacked any of his usual poise and confidence, his lips parting and shivering uncontrollably. Was this... the fleet of the Southern Sea Alliance? Instinctively, he stole a glance at Li Minghui beside him, only to find that the president—usually so courteous and mild-mannered—seemed to have transformed into a completely different person. No— Rather, this was his true self all along. The man was a general by trade, having taken the president's seat only as an expedient measure in a time of crisis... How could Nihak have forgotten something so crucial?! Beneath sharp eyebrows, Li Minghui's eyes flashed like crackling lightning, gazing dead ahead through the bridge viewport with unyielding focus. Duke Nihak swallowed hard, wanting to say something to conceal his unease, but suppressed by the sheer aura radiating from the general, not a word would leave his throat. "All ships, heed my command! Ready naval guns!" The resounding, commanding voice rang out abruptly, startling the daydreaming Nihak. Clutching the communicator in his right hand, eyes fixed directly ahead, Li Minghui suddenly roared: "Disperse barrage! Fire eight salvos!" "Open fire—!" The instant the order dropped, deafening explosions tore outward from both flanks of the flagship. Long, blazing tongues of fire burst forth, billowing smoke slicing through the waves! *BOOM!* Whistling screams sheared across the battlefield as lethal bursts of flame blossomed along the sandy beaches of the Death Coast! At that exact moment, all eight landing ships threw open their frontal bow ramps. One "Alligator" amphibious armored vehicle after another plunged into the sea like dumplings dropped into boiling water, plowing through rolling waves and charging straight toward the smoke-choked coastline! Lowered alongside them were landing craft carrying skirmisher infantry aboard. Iron, fire, and sea merged into one. Whistling shells and rockets sang like an interlude on a pipe organ, screaming continuously over the players' heads to pour down a rain of death upon the coast. Blood felt as though it were boiling! Crouched inside the landing craft, the players tightened their grips on their rifles, excitement and fierce battle fervor shining identically in every pair of eyes! It was time to put an end to all of this! To the chaos corrupting the land— A ringing roar erupted through the comms channel, drowning out even the shrill shrieks of the mutants on the shore: "For the Alliance!" "Charge!"