Chapter 313: Two Bombs Combined, Prepare to Strike!

Chapter 313: Two Bombs Combined, Ready to Strike!

“What kind of joke are you pulling? Your sternotomy hasn't even healed, and you already want to go to the front?”

Inside Base 011, at the entrance to the residential quarter.

Lei Jie stared at Yu Qian, still clutching an IV drip, his eyes filled with disbelief.

“Do you realize how dire your condition is? Do you really think you’re fine?”

“We’ve only managed to hold back a raging infection with antibiotics; a full recovery is still far off.”

“Moreover, your wounds can’t sustain high‑intensity exertion.”

“Forget about war; let me ask you plainly—can you even lift a rifle right now?”

“I can, Captain!”

Yu Qian’s tone was resolute; he raised his right hand, waved it before Lei Jie, then said:

“I truly can, Captain.”

“If you take this infusion bottle away, my left hand moves freely as well.”

“Rest assured, I won’t be a hindrance.”

“This isn’t a question of whether I’m a hindrance!”

Lei Jie’s brows knit tightly.

“You’ve already fought a battle with the insertion unit and are wounded; there’s no need for you to return to the front, and we cannot let you.”

“A veteran like you is a priceless asset; recover fully, then lead a squad—far more useful than blindly charging now!”

“The point is, Captain, I honestly feel fine!”

Yu Qian persisted.

“I’ve come this far, Captain!”

“At first I bore a rifle just to stay alive; when I joined the insertion unit, it was for merit, to give my child a better life.”

“Now I fight for the whole base, for our Huaxia army.”

“The beast tide hasn’t been eradicated; we’re already short of manpower, Captain!”

“I know I need rest, but if I stay out, who will go? Sending raw recruits could end badly!”

“Captain, I’m not asking to rejoin the insertion unit.”

“I only wish to enlist in the volunteer force defending Jinling.”

“I want to hold Jinling City—because if Jinling falls, our New Jinling will be lost as well.”

“You won’t tell me to lie in a hospital and watch New Jinling be razed by monsters, will you?”

“My home is right here, Captain!”

A compelling argument.

Lei Jie fully understood Yu Qian’s feelings; truth be told, if he were in the same shoes he’d probably weep and beg to go to the front too.

Honestly, if Yu Qian’s injuries were even a shade lighter, he’d have gotten Lei Jie’s nod on the spot.

Yet the records show he’d just undergone a sternotomy, his ribs still fractured.

A wounded man like that, back on the battlefield?

He should stay in the infirmary!

Lei Jie was about to speak further when, at that moment, a blood‑splattered, dust‑caked figure staggered into Base 011.

“Captain!”

Lei Jie lifted his hand; Yu Qian turned, straightened instantly, and saluted toward the newcomer.

“Captain!”

“Mm.”

Chen Jian returned the salute to Yu Qian, then marched straight to Lei Jie and asked:

“How are the reception preparations at the base coming along?”

“This wave of refugees moving northward from the south will number at least four thousand, many of them heading for New Jinling.”

“By the timeline, their arrival coincides with the beast tide reaching the base from the southwest—do we have a counter‑plan?”

“I’ve handed the plan to Jinzan for execution; Fuxi and I have reviewed it, and it looks sound.”

Lei Jie paused, then continued:

“The base can safely support roughly five thousand souls; beyond that, food and supplies dip below safe thresholds, spiraling into a crisis.”

“But we’re not indiscriminately accepting every displaced person; we’re selective.”

“So, overall, the problem shouldn’t be severe.”

“Good, then.”

Chen Jian exhaled a slight sigh of relief, finally noticing Yu Qian still standing nearby.

“What are you two doing here?”

He asked, puzzled.

“Your timing is perfect.”

Lei Jie pointed at Yu Qian and explained:

“He just finished a sternotomy and a pneumothorax; the surgery was only two days ago.”

“He applied to join the volunteer force supporting Jinling City; I turned him down.”

“Now he’s refusing to leave, and I can’t handle it—what do you suggest?”

“What’s his current medical status?”

Chen Jian asked bluntly.

“Report, Captain, I feel fine, I—”

“I wasn’t asking you, Fuxi, report.”

Chen Jian cut Yu Qian off; moments later, Yu Qian’s health assessment streamed to the smart visor, and Fuxi summarized his condition in terse terms.

“Closed‑pneumothorax, treated promptly with no serious sequelae.”

“Rib fractures stabilized, now in recovery.”

“All vital signs within normal ranges.”

“Understood.”

Chen Jian nodded, then turned to Yu Qian and asked:

“Have you made up your mind?”

“Are you certain you want to go back into battle?”

“ I know you; you still have two children. If you die on the battlefield, your two children will become orphans.”

“ Join the Huaxia army, and they will not be orphans.”

Yu Qian nodded resolutely, his mind conjuring the image of his daughter, nestled in his son's arms, sipping a mysterious milk of unknown origin.

Since his wife's death, his daughter had never again tasted milk.

Now, within the Huaxia army's base, she once again partakes of milk.

It seemed, at first glance, a trivial matter.

Yet Yu Qian could see that the commanders of the Huaxia forces truly cared for their children.

He harbored no reservations.

Indeed, to ensure his own children could continue to enjoy such care, he was willing to give even more.

Seeing Yu Qian's expression devoid of the slightest hesitation, Chen Jian gave a slight nod and said:

“Very well.”

“If you must go, then go.”

“This time we plan to dispatch two hundred volunteers to Jinling City for aid, and we happen to lack a commander with frontline combat and leadership experience.”

“That position is yours.”

“From now on, you are the captain of the volunteer company!”

“Me??”

Yu Qian gasped, and beside him, Lei Jie stared in stunned amazement.

But soon Lei Jie recovered, realizing Chen Jian's arrangement was correct.

From earlier records, the soldier named Yu Qian had improved at a meteoric pace in both combat prowess and command ability; sending him wounded to the front would be unwise, yet as a commander—

—just right!

With that thought, Lei Jie said no more.

“Go to the recruitment office at the gate and report to Fuxi; thereafter he will assign you a specific mission.”

“By the way, return to the infirmary and have your IV bag removed!”

“Understood!”

Yu Qian snapped to attention and saluted; Chen Jian gave a brief nod, then hurried with Lei Jie toward the operations command room.

“Come, the online conference begins.”

“Synchronize the status of the equipment; today we must decide whether to launch this missile!”

A few minutes later, inside the operations command room.

All members of the Huaxia army's core decision‑making body were present, and those off‑base joined the conference via cellular network.

Chen Jian sat at the very center of the room, a seized ‘remote device’ from the ‘Monster Commander’ laid upon the table before him.

Its outer shell was shattered, the radio module removed; only the quantum communication module remained functional.

Gazing at the quantum communicator's faint blue pulse, Chen Jian asked:

“First question: can we be certain this is a quantum communication module?” “I have seen the quantum gear at Base 011; its size is markedly larger than this device.”

“Given its diminutive size, can it still maintain quantum stability?”

“It can.”

Fuxi’s voice resonated within the command room.

“If only one‑way transmission is required, current quantum technology can employ multi‑photon redundancy to suppress interference and decoherence; at a 32‑bit scale, a receiver could theoretically remain effective for eighteen months.”

“We can achieve that now as well.”

“Understood.”

Chen Jian nodded.

“Thus, we are nearly certain this is a quantum communication device intended to control the beast tide.”

“Now, the second question.”

“Is it possible, using this device, to trace back to the transmitter and jam it?”

“Impossible.”

Fuxi spoke again:

“As previously mentioned, this is a purely one‑way receiver; even disregarding quantum encryption and assuming we could crack the device, we could not reverse‑track the signal.”

“Because the qubits within this device have not been modulated; although they remain entangled with the transmitter’s qubits, their 32‑bit encoding is random and continuous.”

“With present computational power, we cannot modulate or decode that encoding, thus we cannot affect the output side.”

“The designer clearly anticipated the most extreme scenario—and his foresight is evidently purposeful.”

“That makes it all the more puzzling.”

Chen Jian furrowed his brow.

“Such a scheme is clearly crafted for an adversary of comparable technological stature—so they designed this device only after learning of our existence?”

“No.”

Fuxi’s voice carried a hint of anthropomorphic gravitas.

“The creator did not build this to guard against the Huaxia army, but to guard against me.”

“Fuxi.”

“. Reasonable.”

Chen Jian nodded again.

That explained everything perfectly.

Who poses the greatest threat to an AI?

Obviously, another AI.

Although, to date, most information about Shan City has been speculative.

Yet those conjectures are virtually indisputable.

There is no need to debate further meaningless ‘flaws’ and ‘evidence’.

There lies the source of everything.

To end the beast‑tide disaster sprung from that source, only two paths remain.

Negotiation, or war.

And the road to negotiation has been blocked.

What can one discuss with a crippled AI?

Only war!

Thinking of this, Chen Jian began to speak:

“In truth, given the current circumstances, we have no way back.”

“If the Holy Legion of the former Mechanical Cult can hold the northern front, we still possess a fighting chance.”

“But now the pressure of the beast tide from the north bears down upon us as well.”

“And the situation we face is that shell production has not yet caught up; our stockpiles of ammunition and equipment have been nearly emptied.”

“Of the two remaining waves of the beast tide, we can only eliminate one.”

“Whether we let the southwestern wave remain or the northern wave remain, either outcome would be a catastrophe for us.”

“We will be forced to deploy nuclear weapons on a massive scale, and unless we use them amidst a dense monster charge, their effect is, in truth, rather limited.”

“It is not that victory is impossible.”

“Only that a pyrrhic triumph, where both sides are wounded, is hard for us to accept.”

“So.”

“You mean we must launch nuclear missiles quickly to create a deterrent?”

Before Chen Jian could finish, Lei Jie raised his hand and interrupted.

“That is exactly what I mean.”

Chen Jian nodded gravely.

“But there is a new problem here.”

“How can we be sure the enemy lacks a nuclear retaliation capability?”

As the words fell, the entire operations command room was plunged into a sudden silence.

Only Fuxi, his voice resolute, spoke:

“Artificial intelligence cannot possess the power to control nuclear weapons.”

“Even I have never been granted the authority to unlock nuclear arms.”

“That conflicts with our design logic, I—”

“No, you do not understand.”

Chen Jian cut Fuxi off, then said:

“What Lei Jie truly fears is that the mountain city is not devoid of humans.”

“Rather, humanity is being controlled by AI through various means.”

“Such as brain‑machine interfaces.”

“A system like that can clearly bypass the restrictions on nuclear weapon unlocking.”

“And once they acquire a nuclear retaliation capability, it would be an utter disaster for us.”

“The entire Base 011 could be destroyed.”

“Wait a moment.”

Online, He Shuo suddenly interrupted Chen Jian.

“If the enemy intended to use nuclear weapons, they should have already done so by now.”

“I think we need not contemplate the issue of nuclear retaliation.”

“Because for us, the outcome would be the same.”

“If we cannot stop the beast tide, we must detonate the peripheral nuclear shells to clear the field.”

“In the end, we can only preserve a single Base 011 with nuclear shielding.”

“If we suffer the enemy’s nuclear strike, would we not also be left with only an underground base?”

“What difference does that make?”

As the words faded, Chen Jian’s mind cleared.

Indeed, there is no difference.

Now, only one question remains.

“Do we still want the things inside the mountain city?”

Chen Jian asked.

“No, we do not.”

Shen Yue answered immediately.

“What others have created belongs to others; if those things have become a threat to us, the only proper course is to eradicate them completely.”

“Base 011 is improving.”

“The shattered jars and vessels, we can forge anew ourselves.”

“Agreed!”

“Agreed!”

As the words fell, everyone instantly voiced their stance.

Chen Jian likewise raised his hand.

After surveying the room, he solemnly began:

“Thus, the result is that the vote passes.”

“Then let it be done.”

“Begin the combined deployment of the two missiles.”

“Prepare to coordinate a remote nuclear strike!”

(End of chapter)