The deployment to Settlement No. 10 to stand by was not a formal transfer order. The main force of the Storm Corps remained stationed around Dawn City, guarding against threats inside and outside the Alliance while shepherding new players, so Brother Spring had not brought many people along.
Of the corps members who had arrived at Settlement No. 10, besides a little over three hundred veteran players, the remaining two hundred or so were rookies who had joined less than two months ago.
After his meeting with the Administrator, Brother Spring returned to the vicinity of the save point, intending to save his progress first, then log off to tell the guys in the chat group about the next steps.
Namely, how they were going to play out this charade of luring the snake from its hole.
Just then, as luck would have it, he bumped right into I'm the Darkest, who had just returned from completing an outside quest. Brother Spring's eyes instantly lit up, and he stepped forward to intercept the unlucky fellow.
"Darkest, my man! I've got an insanely badass set of power armor here. You wanna wear it?"
Cut off in his tracks, I'm the Darkest looked thoroughly bewildered, unable to fathom what kind of crazy episode Brother Spring was having this time.
However, seeing that overeager expression, his instincts immediately put him on guard.
"...No way."
Seeing that Old Dark had actually developed some brain cells and refused to take the bait, Brother Spring hurriedly coaxed him, "Don't be like that! It's the exact same model of power armor as the Administrator's! This thing isn't for sale anywhere. Opportunity of a lifetime, now or never!"
I'm the Darkest sneered and cursed, "Bullshit! When have you ever thought of me when there's actually something good? It's definitely another goddamn suicide gig."
Brother Spring put on a heartbroken look. "Now you're slandering me. When have I ever not thought of you when something good came up?"
I'm the Darkest gave an unmoved smirk. "Heh. Name one time."
The air went quiet for a moment.
Brother Spring scratched his head and wrung his hands for ages before finally offering an awkward grin.
I'm the Darkest sighed and held up two fingers, giving him a way out.
"...Two thousand silver."
Brother Spring replied without a second's hesitation, "Deal."
I'm the Darkest: "..."
Son of a bitch!
I definitely asked for too little!
...
Inside a half-collapsed high-rise in Yanshan City, over a dozen Wilante clad in urban camouflage were meticulously busy before terminal consoles.
Ever since Wyatt set up camp around Yanshan City, the Southern Legion General Staff had transferred in personnel one after another alongside equipment, transforming this abandoned building into the temporary base for the "Guillotine" task force to devise more detailed battle plans.
With the backing of the local marauders, the plan was proceeding smoothly.
However, that alone was not enough.
They not only had to distribute weapons to these ruffians who were used to mugging people with pipe rifles, but also teach them how to use them and how to fight more effectively.
And for that, they had to rely on the help of "professionals."
Fortunately, the covert channels left behind in the Free State by the Eastern Legion's Expansionist faction proved useful.
With the funding provided by the Southern Legion, Myriarch Kondra easily satisfied their requests, delivering weapons along with a contingent of experienced instructors.
Some of them were Expansionist soldiers who had fought in the Battle of Sunset, while others were officers stranded in the Free State since the Expeditionary Force era.
Turning marauders into a force with regular army combat capability within such a short window was unrealistic, but at the very least, they could fulfill the value expected of cannon fodder.
If they alone could take down the Alliance Administrator, all the better.
If not, they still had a weapon of mass destruction as their final trump card.
To this end, the General Staff had prepared two operational plans.
The first plan was to have marauders disguise themselves as refugees, infiltrate the settlement carrying the nuclear warhead, and then order two other thousand-man units to launch an assault on Settlement No. 10.
The second plan was to strike when the Administrator departed Settlement No. 10, shooting down his transport aircraft with man-portable anti-air missiles.
Both plans had their advantages and drawbacks, but Wyatt was still not satisfied.
He wanted to make the operation as foolproof as humanly possible, leaving no loose ends.
The operational briefing had gone on for an entire morning.
After the meeting adjourned, Wyatt walked over to a broken window, lit a cigarette, and held it between his lips.
Just then, an intelligence operative seated at a terminal suddenly pushed back his chair, stood up, and shouted in pleasant surprise, "We have news!"
Hearing the stir behind him, Wyatt immediately snubbed out the cigarette he had barely taken two drags from. Hurrying over to stand behind the operative, he asked urgently, "What is it?"
Looking excited, the operative handed his headphones to his superior while reporting, "We intercepted a broadcast from Settlement No. 1's radio station! According to the news, Settlement No. 10 is going to build a new peripheral district in the northern forest area! The Alliance Administrator plans to inspect the site in person, and the inspection is scheduled for tomorrow at nine in the morning!"
Standing beside Wyatt, his heavily armored adjutant Ogg frowned. "Build an outer district? For a settlement with barely two thousand people?"
The operative nodded eagerly. "That's right! According to the news report, the new outer district is meant to address the continuous influx of Brahma and Wilante refugees... I've already recorded it! Put on the headphones, sir, I'll play it for you!"
Settlement No. 10 had no radio station of its own; the signal originated from Settlement No. 1, hundreds of kilometers away.
As he spoke, the operative tapped the touchscreen twice to replay the recording.
Wyatt put on the headphones and listened through the recording from start to finish with furrowed brows, his grave expression gradually softening into delight.
A moment later, he handed the headphones to Ogg with a smile.
"It seems even heaven is on our side... The two previous operational plans are obsolete. Assemble our combat personnel immediately. I want another meeting!"
Taking the headphones, Ogg looked slightly hesitant.
Instead of putting them on right away, he looked at the beaming Wyatt and said under his breath, "I can't shake the feeling that something's off... We've been monitoring Settlement No. 1's broadcasts before, but we never heard a single whisper about this."
"There's nothing fishy about it. Settlement No. 10 barely ever features on Settlement No. 1's news channel to begin with."
Seeing the worry written across Ogg's face, Wyatt chuckled. "Besides, that glory-hound wandered around aimlessly like this back in Weifu City too. A reasonable guess would be that there's nothing to see in Settlement No. 10, so local officials drew up an empty promise to please him and fleece some funding... That makes complete logical sense."
Ogg gave a wry smile.
Based on what he knew of the Alliance, that sounded far more like something that would happen in the Southern Legion.
Still, seeing his superior so certain, he kept his peace.
After all, it had been the same way in West Sail Port.
He had thought it unreliable to wager everything on a pack of ungrateful vipers, yet the final outcome hadn't turned out badly.
Even though their bet on Absaik hadn't panned out, they had still wrestled West Sail Port from the civilian faction, along with a legitimate casus belli for war in Brahma Province.
Perhaps he was overthinking things...
Seeing his deputy still ill at ease, Wyatt placed a hand on his shoulder.
"...Listen, Ogg, we can't wait until we're a hundred percent certain before making a move. If you're worried about our cooked duck flying away, we can detach an anti-air unit to the west of Settlement No. 10, lay an ambush along the mandatory route to Settlement No. 9, and keep a tight watch on their transport."
Ogg smiled wryly and nodded. "Understood."
...
The following morning, at first light, Settlement No. 10's northern gate suddenly swung open.
A full six military off-road vehicles rolled out from behind the gate, driving quietly toward the northern wilderness.
Although the convoy made as little noise as possible, it still did not escape the eyes of the marauders who had been keeping watch outside the settlement all night.
Kicked by the comrade beside him, the lackey lying behind the earthen mound snapped awake and quickly raised his binoculars toward the convoy.
He saw that the off-road vehicles were packed with soldiers in exoskeletons, right up to the machine-gun mounts on the roofs.
That armed-to-the-teeth appearance sent an involuntary chill down his spine.
Normally, a rabble like them would never dare entertain thoughts about a convoy like this, but these were no normal times—they had the Southern Legion backing them.
As long as they won!
All those vehicles and gear would be theirs!
Two pairs of greedy eyes fixed onto the convoy as the marauders behind the mound muttered to each other.
"In the middle! Fourth vehicle from the front! Do you see it?!"
"Lemme look... Blue power armor!"
"It's him! That's him!"
"Call the boss, quick!"
Having confirmed their target, one of the marauders hastily whipped out a walkie-talkie and jabbered his findings to the boss lying in ambush behind them.
Meanwhile, near the forest area twenty kilometers away.
Hiding in an abandoned small town, Hunting Claw had a gruesome, sinister grin plastered across his face.
When he had first arrived to set up the ambush last night, he happened across several mutated tigers, and relying on his modified combat cybernetics, disemboweled them all in the blink of an eye.
Right now, he was like a humanoid Deathclaw, bursting with impatience for the coming battle.
If the Southern Legion moneybags hadn't insisted on drawing up some stupid battle plan, he would have led his boys storming into the settlement last night for a glorious slaughterfest!
"...That guy's mine. Nobody touch him."
Seeing their boss's bloodthirsty demeanor, the underbosses standing beside him shuddered involuntarily, quickly plastering on flattering smiles as they chimed in.
"Don't worry, Boss, we won't steal your kill!"
"We'll pin his arms down for you!"
Hunting Claw scoffed and rasped, "I don't need your help. I'm taking him one-on-one!"
This would be the battle that made him a legend.
Clenching his right fist, he watched the claws pop out from the back of his hand, an intoxicated smile creeping across his face.
Meanwhile, inside the off-road vehicle speeding north, I'm the Darkest, packed like canned meat, craned his neck with difficulty and couldn't help cursing, "Damn it... Does the Administrator usually wear this garbage? Who the hell are they kidding?!"
This wasn't what the Administrator wore at all!
No!
Strictly speaking, this thing couldn't even be called power armor! It was completely just an exoskeleton with a reskin!
In truth, that was precisely the case.
The hallmark of true power armor was a nuclear power cell, something this disposable hunk of iron naturally lacked.
Moreover, with a certain someone's thrifty nature, he was hardly going to risk his own gear in a bait operation like this.
While power armor boasted CBRN protection, no one had ever heard of a suit surviving a direct nuclear blast.
Even with money to burn, you didn't waste it like that.
Back in Weifu City, Chu Guang had already known someone was gunning for him, and had Boulder Military Industries fabricate a stripped-down replica of the P-10A "Order" power armor built around the frame of a K-10 "Iron Wall" exoskeleton.
And the so-called replica was basically just a visual fake.
Everything related to power systems—including the four "Raptor-1" boost thrusters and the "Hippo-1" portable fusion reactor—had been gutted. After swapping in a metallic hydrogen battery, a coat of International Klein Blue paint was all it took to call it a day.
The armor looked virtually indistinguishable from what Chu Guang usually wore, but as for performance, they were two completely different beasts, not even in the same league.
Hearing I'm the Darkest complain over the comms channel, Brother Spring chuckled cheekily, "Who cares if it is or isn't? You can't tell from the outside anyway."
His rear jolting uncomfortably against the seat, I'm the Darkest twitched his mouth and grumbled, "So what is our actual mission?"
Brother Spring went silent for a second, then let out a wistful sigh. "...You've already made it this far into the quest, and you still haven't figured it out?"
As they spoke, I'm the Darkest suddenly noticed that the comrades sharing the vehicle with him were all wearing the Alliance's classic "Type 5" exoskeletons, complete with the paint job and insignia of the Guards Corps.
Wait a second—
Guards Corps colors!
Earlier, all his attention had been on this shoddy armor, and he hadn't noticed the others' gear at all.
Only now did the realization hit him like a brick.
"Holy shit! Don't tell me—"
Seeing that he had guessed it, Brother Spring chuckled and revealed the punchline, "No biggie. When the shooting starts, your job is just to draw fire. Just don't die too fast, and leave the rest to us... Of course, if you can stay alive, that's best."
I'm the Darkest: "...@#%!"
Hearing the torrent of curses, Brother Spring felt a twinge of embarrassment. He coughed and said, "Alright, alright... A little further ahead is the engagement zone. We've already spotted signs of marauder activity nearby. Radio silence begins now. Good luck!"
With that, Brother Spring muted the entire squad, cutting off Old Dark's profanities mid-sentence.
Meanwhile, at the Yanshan City base of operations a hundred kilometers away, an intelligence operative seated at a terminal suddenly frowned.
Rising from his seat, he reported to Ogg, who stood near the window, "We detected a radio transmission..."
Ogg turned to him at once. "Can you decrypt the content?"
The operative looked troubled. "Technically yes... but I can't understand what they're saying."
"..."
Ogg was momentarily struck speechless and turned his gaze out the window.
An ominous premonition lingered in his chest, but at this crucial juncture, it was too late to adjust.
Wyatt had already led all combat personnel toward the ambush site.
Including the nuclear warhead they had purchased from the arms dealer.
Meanwhile, container freighters carrying twenty thousand soldiers were en route to Port French Fries.
Regardless of whether Operation Guillotine went as smoothly as planned, a new war was already an arrow notched on the bowstring.
May everything go well, he prayed silently.
At the same time, along the coastline west of Settlement No. 10, a man who had no business being here was conducting an inspection under the escort of a squad of Guards.
It was none other than Chu Guang.
After dumping the marauder-clearing mission onto Brother Spring, he had taken Lyu Bei outside the settlement early in the morning.
After all, no one could guarantee there were no informants for the marauders or the Southern Legion inside the settlement.
Before the bait operation succeeded, it was better that he did not show his face.
Besides, frankly speaking, Settlement No. 10 was too small to have anything worth seeing. In contrast, there were several noteworthy landmarks outside the settlement.
For instance, on the beach not far from the settlement walls, a derelict ship covered in seaweed lay stranded.
The ship was remarkably intact, with its anti-rust paint still largely preserved, marred only by a gaping hole torn through its hull.
The vessel was named the Golden Coast, the very ship belonging to the South Sea Alliance that the Church of the Torch had sunk.
At the time, the ship had intended to land on the northeastern coast of Haiya Province to establish a research station and investigate what the Church of the Torch's "Heaven" was all about, only to be ambushed and shot to pieces by aquatic mutants before it could even dock.
Later, as the Alliance developed the Death Coast and deep-sea salvage operations took off, the wreck was recovered by scavengers from Settlement No. 10 and towed ashore.
The South Sea Alliance had previously planned to buy it back and turn it into a museum as a cautionary reminder to future generations, but considering the limited space on their islands, they ultimately decided to build the museum at Settlement No. 10 instead.
This could be considered fulfilling the final wish of the Golden Coast and its crew.
Currently, workers from Settlement No. 10 were scraping seaweed and shellfish from the derelict hull; construction of the museum would likely begin once that task was finished.
Aside from the remains of the research vessel Golden Coast, a few dozen kilometers to the southwest lay a shimmering stretch of coast.
Chu Guang had previously learned from Li Jinrong that the area was called the Glowing Sea, said to be a crater left behind when a radioactive weapon conducted a strategic bombing strike against a mutant slime mold hive.
Supposedly, two centuries ago, that glowing sea had been far more spectacular, its boundless luminescence filling the entire Death Coast.
By now, however, very little radioactive material remained undecayed.
According to the Scientific Expedition's survey, the luminescence of the Glowing Sea today was primarily caused by clusters of mutated shellfish that thrived on radioactive elements.
Research into those mutant organisms had already been established as a project at the Alliance's Institute of Biological Research.
When Chu Guang first heard the news, he had actually been somewhat disappointed.
He had thought he could salvage some pre-war gear or helium-3 fuel from the area, only to find a bunch of seashells.
Perhaps someday Heya and the Institute of Biological Research under her lead would bring him a pleasant surprise.
But that was a story for another day.
Continuing along the beach for a stretch, Chu Guang spotted a small wooden cabin nestled by the shore.
Its owner had built a wooden rain shelter and a crude pier for fishing boats.
It was likely a supply station or storm shelter for local fishermen.
Beside the cabin, Chu Guang saw an old man hanging fishing nets out to dry.
Just as he caught sight of the old man, the old man clearly saw him too, freezing on the spot.
Seeing that he had been noticed, Chu Guang made no effort to avoid him, walking straight up instead.
The expression on the old man's face held a hint of trepidation, mixed with excitement and curiosity.
"Are... are you the Administrator, sir?"
Chu Guang smiled. "I didn't expect you to recognize me."
The old man gave an embarrassed chuckle, scratching the back of his head with a weathered hand. "You're teasing me, sir. Who around here wouldn't know you?"
Chu Guang continued with a friendly smile, "You're from Yuema Province, aren't you?"
The old man nodded with a smile. "Willow Creek Town in Yuema Province, right by the sea too. Half a year ago, while fishing, I fiddled with my radio and caught your broadcast. I came over to take a look, and then I moved my whole family here."
Chu Guang asked in a conversational tone, "How do you find it since moving here? How does it compare to your old home?"
The old man sighed with genuine emotion. "It's so much better. At least the fish I catch belong to me—I don't have to give a cut to the mayor's family. Trucks come regularly to collect fish at the market by the highway, so there's no worry about selling them.
"And it's not just the fish. My two grandsons and granddaughters go to school in the settlement. Teachers teach arithmetic and writing every day without charging a copper. Sometimes I feel downright embarrassed... surely we ought to pay something for textbooks at least; it's not like we don't have any money."
Looking at the old man's honest demeanor, Chu Guang smiled and said, "Don't feel embarrassed at all. Your grandchildren are the pillars of the Alliance's future. The Alliance depends on them. If we charged you for their schooling, our consciences would be the ones to suffer."
"Ah, you're flattering them, sir," the old man laughed, his face reddening. "Those rascals of mine don't have that kind of talent. It'll be a blessing if they just stay out of trouble and don't cause headaches for the Alliance."
"You never know. They have a long road ahead," Chu Guang smiled, then added, "By the way, sir, is there anything in your daily life that's inconvenient or causing trouble?"
"Inconvenient things... honestly, nothing comes to mind," the old man pondered earnestly, furrowing his brow. "Though I did hear the truck drivers who come to buy fish complaining that a lot of marauders have migrated over from Yuema Province lately. When they make runs now, they have to take two security guards along."
Chu Guang's heart stirred. "Do you know where they're hiding?"
The old man shook his head. "Truth be told, those vermin are like roaches—they're everywhere, not just in one place... It's really not easy to pin down where they're holed up."
At this point, the old man smiled self-consciously and added, "Then again, bandits and robbers are everywhere in the wasteland, not just here... Compared to other settlements, ours is already safe enough!"
Seeing the contented smile on the old man's face, Chu Guang smiled and said, "You might think it's enough, but to me, it's not. But don't worry, sir—we're here this time to solve that very problem!"
Just as he spoke, Lyu Bei approached from not far away and reported in a low voice, "Sir, we've spotted a group of unidentified armed combatants to the west... They're equipped with an unidentified model of exoskeleton and an off-road vehicle fitted with a missile rack. Based on the radar dish on the launcher, they appear to be anti-air missiles."
Chu Guang's expression turned slightly odd. "How many of them are there?"
Lyu Bei replied gravely, "About a company from what we've spotted."
Chu Guang considered it for a moment. "Take me over for a look."
Lyu Bei hesitated, but seeing that Chu Guang had made up his mind, he ultimately nodded. "Yes, sir!"
Meanwhile, about twenty kilometers north of the settlement, the off-road vehicle carrying I'm the Darkest finally rolled up to the edge of the ambush site.
The Storm Corps players had taken up their battle positions. Canned inside the suit, I'm the Darkest climbed out of the vehicle, cursing up a storm.
Watching the fellow stumble and sway, Wyatt, lurking in the shadows, suddenly frowned.
Rumor had it that the Alliance Administrator was virtually inseparable from that deep blue power armor during his daily outings, so by all rights, he should have long grown accustomed to operating it.
Yet the fellow in the blue power armor in the distance had stepped out of the vehicle strutting with an utterly unhinged, swaggering stumble.
One second Wyatt was thrilled, and the next, an ominous foreboding suddenly surged in his chest.
However, there was no time left for him to think.
The moment the "Alliance Administrator" made his appearance, an impatient fool could no longer hold back and sounded the horn to attack.
Staring at his prey within arm's reach, Hunting Claw sprang up in a frenzy and roared with wild excitement, "That's him!
"Charge! Crush them!
"Leave the blue tin can to me!"
Chapter 918