Chapter 223: Vanished?

Chapter 223 Vanishing?

Chen Jian did not know whether his words would have a positive effect on the “population migration”, for, after all, on the wasteland, migration itself was fraught with difficulty.

Leaving aside the threats of monsters, bandits, and blood‑clad skeletons, the myriad mishaps that could befall a journey might, unnoticed, snatch away their lives.

After all, this was not the era he came from.

Here, people could not travel by high‑speed rail or automobiles; they could only rely on the scarce conveyances of the Mechanical Church and their own two legs.

Fatigue, cold, and food scarcity—any hardship that Chen Jian and his companions deemed trivial—were for them insurmountable chasms.

Compared with the daring venture southward, they were more inclined to eke out a meager existence in the homeland that was originally theirs.

Even if the ever‑looming risk of being devoured by monsters hovered over them.

It was, nonetheless, a choice of survival.

Though it seemed unreasonable, even short‑sighted, it resembled the old saying Chen Jian had heard—“the poorer, the more tenacious”—a maxim that, in truth, was a maximization of benefit for the sake of continued existence.

Thus, Chen Jian made no demands.

He merely bore the charge of spreading the news, and letting it ferment in its own time.

Fortune smiled, for the speed and effect of that fermentation exceeded his expectations.

The next day, after the squad had rested through the night and readied themselves to press northward again, several merchants—including Jin Zan—began to inquire about the specifics of the Jinling Ruins.

Chen Jian answered them with candor.

‘At present the Jinling Ruins, or rather the nascent Jinling New City, are still in a rather primitive stage of infrastructure; agriculture cannot yet be self‑sufficient, and they still depend on supplies from neighboring cities.’

‘But the pace of development in Jinling New City will outstrip any city you are familiar with.’

‘As for why—go see for yourself, and you’ll understand.’

‘Then I must go and see!’

Jin Zan chuckled merrily:

‘Anyway, I’m heading back to Jinling on this trip; Jinling New City isn’t far from Jinling proper, is it?’

‘Not far.’

Chen Jian paused briefly, then said:

‘If you intend to go, we can build a road for you.’

‘Build a road??’

Jin Zan was taken aback.

‘For us?’

‘It’s no great matter.’

Chen Jian waved his hand and said:

‘In any case, it will take you more than ten days to return to Jinling from here; by then our road should be finished.’

Jin Zan inhaled a sharp breath of cold air.

Ten‑plus days to finish a road.

Even the most ordinary, most rudimentary path does not simply appear by wish.

Moreover, they were short of manpower—a fact he knew all too well.

Jin Zan did not know how they would keep that promise, yet he sensed faintly that they truly could.

It seemed that Jinling New City was a destination he could not refuse.

Jin Zan carefully asked for the location, the route, and the supplies needed for Jinling New City, noting each detail in his merchant’s journal.

When Chen Jian led his party away, he was already revising the freight plan he had drafted earlier.

The other merchants lingered in hesitation, and one stepped forward to ask:

‘Boss Jin, are you really going to Jinling New City?’

‘You are a man of the Mechanical Church. Are you sure this is safe?’

‘Besides, the situation of this so‑called Jinling New City is still unclear. Aren’t you afraid of the risks?’

‘Risks?’

Jin Zan scoffed and shook his head:

‘Where is there no risk?’

‘I work for the Mechanical Church, but I am also a merchant.’

‘Now, Jinling New City is the greatest commercial opportunity; only the bold can seize it.’

‘The world will improve, and now is the moment for change.’

‘Cooperating with them is not merely for profit; it is also… taking a side.’

‘Enough, you won’t understand even if I explain.’

Jin Zan waved his hand, ignoring the still‑wavering merchants.

A mysterious smile curled on his face, as if he had glimpsed, through the chaos of the times, a path that pierced the fog.

Meanwhile, Chen Jian had led his squad toward the outskirts of Ander City.

The drones kept a four‑hour interval of intermittent scouting, yet to everyone’s puzzlement the two ‘rumored monsters’ never reappeared.

The low‑temperature traces they had left vanished completely, as if the rumors were nothing more than fabricated tales.

‘Strange indeed—where on earth could this thing be hiding?’

‘The largest nearby water body is Jizhou Lake, but the drones have swept it countless times and found no trace.’

‘What does that mean? Did those two monsters simply vanish into thin air?’

Chen Jian’s tone was tinged with doubt, and Lei Jie followed his words, saying:

‘If they did not go underwater, then perhaps they went underground.’

‘But there should be no large underground works near Jizhou. Fuxi, are there any subterranean facilities nearby that could accommodate such massive creatures?’

As the words fell, Fuxi’s voice rang in the headset.

‘No large underground structures were found around Jizhou; the nearest one lies 150 kilometers away at Yangquan.’

‘There is a sizable underground nuclear installation there, part of what is colloquially called the “Underground Nuclear Great Wall.”’

‘That facility links via tunnels and road networks to the nuclear sites surrounding the Imperial Capital, forming a crucial component of the secondary nuclear retaliation system.’

‘Based on current data, the monsters could enter the installation, but they would lack the ability to move freely within it.’

‘Their size exceeds the design specifications of the works.’

‘Commander, should we organize reconnaissance and surveillance of Yangquan and its environs?’

‘Not for now.’

Chen Jian shook his head and said:

“we shall still follow the original plan and continue northward, with entering the imperial capital as our primary objective.”

“as for those two monsters, let them be.”

“they pose no substantive threat to us for the time being, so we need not concern ourselves with them.”

“minimize equipment loss as much as possible; we’ll deal with the capital later.”

“understood.”

“copy that.”

the group answered one by one; after a moment of silence, chen jian spoke again:

“ji xing, keep communication with that lin yu.”

“since the mission has already been assigned to them, they must see it through.”

“inform them that unknown monsters have appeared in the vicinity of ande city and jizhou city, possibly of grade three or higher.”

“order them to pursue with all effort, and report any anomalies promptly.”

ji xing nodded at the words and replied briefly:

“got it!”

at the same time, 120 kilometers south of base 011, near nan yi lake.

shen yue removed his helmet, wiped the sweat from his face, and exhaled, saying:

“dammit, these two monsters are absurdly hard to catch.”

“we’ve been out here so long, have slain who knows how many beasts, and i’ve never encountered anything like this before.”

“we don’t attack, we don’t plunder; the whole affair is just hiding and running!”

“what on earth is going on? where the hell are they heading?”

“it was one thing to be chased by the holy temple guard of the mechanical cult, but now we’re being trailed by drones; they can’t possibly possess some extra‑sensory ability to foresee danger, can they?”

“they ignore every command, marching south with single‑minded resolve.” “if we keep this chase up, we’ll end up at mount huang!”

his words hung in the air, and the nearby huang yu let out a sigh before speaking:

“indeed, it’s a rarity.”

“but the crux is that each time those two monsters appear they keep a safe distance—no matter how many cannons we fire, we can’t reach them.”

“captain, just as you said, they seem to possess some sort of perception. do you think they might also be using radio?”

“that’s a bit far‑fetched, honestly.”

shen yue glanced at the data on his smart visor and continued:

“our squad leader reported a strikingly similar incident: the two monsters showed up and then vanished without a trace.”

“no warning, no trail.”

“perhaps it’s not that there’s no trail, but that our methods can’t detect it.”

“tracking like this is really the forte of the holy blooded, but unfortunately ji xing and the others have followed the captain, and zeng yi can’t make it.”

“at this point, shen yue paused”

“and then asked:”

“fuxi, can we pin down the movement patterns of those two monsters on our side?”

the words fell, and fuxi answered:

“based on the information we have, the two monsters may be heading toward taihu and yuhang.”

“they have remained under our surveillance the whole time; their logic is relatively clear.”

“they first drank at the north bank of the shimu stone river, then again at the south bank of nan yi lake, where they also hunted a few small monsters and animals.”

“given that trajectory and the fact that their objective leans eastward, i predict they are likely moving toward taihu for a third resupply.”

“of course, they could also head southeast to yuhang, but the distance is greater and the probability lower.”

“chief, we must make a decision here.”

“do we abandon the pursuit and stick to the original plan to go to mount huang, or continue tracking toward yuhang and taihu? your call.”

with those words spoken, shen yue’s brow furrowed tightly.

according to the original plan, he intended to head to mount huang first, locate the rocket force base there, and retrieve usable nuclear weapons.

after all, that was our side’s trump card against the beast tide.

slaying those two monsters was merely a side task.

but now the situation had shifted.

not only had his own squad unusually failed to catch the monsters, but the captain’s unit experienced a strikingly similar dead‑end.

it was a massive inconsistency.

and one that had to be resolved.

thinking of that, shen yue let out a long sigh.

“those two monsters must die.”

“we must not only kill them, but also discover what changes have taken hold of them.”

“notify he shuo, ready the drones for an aerial strike.”

“damn it, i can’t catch them, and the network signal can’t keep up either?”

“load every patrol missile we have; i won’t believe they can’t be blown to pieces!”

“understood.”

fuxi replied succinctly:

“command transmitted, awaiting confirmation from commander he shuo.”

“alright.”

shen yue nodded and added:

“press him.”

outside the 011 fortifications.

he shuo swiftly set all parameters, while the ant‑swarm robots busily prepared the modest‑sized attack‑17 uav for takeoff.

several patrol missiles were mounted, along with two longsword‑s miniature air‑to‑ground missiles.

these missiles are specially designed for unmanned combat, with modest warhead yield and relatively low speed.

yet, thanks to the uav’s extreme maneuverability and its “anti‑human” diving attack, the missiles can still reach a terminal velocity of 2.8 mach.

at such speed, virtually no air‑defence system can intercept them effectively.

the drawback, however, is that the lightweight design makes them ill‑suited for striking solid fortifications.

their intended purpose was originally a top‑down strike against tanks and lightly armored targets.

with weapons like these, can we truly hope to inflict effective damage on those thick‑skinned, hulking monsters?

In this respect, He Shuo was deeply skeptical.

In theory, when confronting a monster, a costly Longsword‑S is less useful than a single ordinary grenade.

Alas, they now possessed no other recourse.

Even if they could not strike it down outright, they must press the two beasts to alter their course, thereby granting Shen Yue a chance to strike.

With that thought, He Shuo lowered his gaze to the screen in his hand.

Fuel replenished, munitions loaded.

The ground‑based miniature radar station powered up, the cellular network humming smoothly.

Takeoff was now possible.

Attack‑17 slipped slowly out of its shelter, gliding toward the makeshift runway laid out during the last assault on Jinling City.

During the final pre‑flight check, He Shuo opened a channel to Shen Yue.

“I’m ready on this end; we can lift off at any moment.”

“Shen Yue, how are things on your side?”

“Not great!”

Shen Yue’s voice carried a clear note of irritation.

“Those two monsters have vanished again; the woods here are too dense, and the beasts aren’t large enough for easy aerial tracking.”

“You take off first; I’ll find a way to drive them out!”

“Vanished again??”

He Shuo asked, astonished:

“How did they disappear?”

“A perfectly ordinary disappearance—first the heat signature fades, then the visual feed drops.”

“I’m beginning to suspect there’s some underground passage nearby. Never mind, I’ve found them again!”

“Damn it, if we don’t keep our eyes on this thing, it could truly slip away.”

“Hurry and take off; I’m about fifteen kilometres from those two beasts and can’t engage them quickly!”

“Copy that!”

He Shuo nodded immediately, then swiftly issued the launch command.

Moments later, Attack‑17’s engines ignited, two brilliant blue flames roaring forth.

With the roar of the engines, the warplane—so out of place in the wasteland—soared skyward, erupting a spectacular sonic boom cloud above.

The radar screen already highlighted the designated combat zone.

At a distance of nearly one‑hundred‑and‑fifty kilometres, it would arrive within ten minutes.

Yet He Shuo could not be sure whether it would fulfill its intended role.

He furrowed his brow, stared at the heavens, and remained motionless for a long while.

Eight minutes later, Shen Yue’s voice crackled through his headset.

“Target locked!”

“Open fire!”

(End of chapter)