Chapter 788: Strange, How Did This Door Open by Itself?

Chapter 788: Strange, Why Did the Door Open by Itself?

"Damn it! They've found us!"

In the monitoring room of the underground facility, staring at the figures that had appeared on the barely restored screen, the staff member sitting at the terminal cried out in alarm.

A flicker of panic also crossed Alzu's face.

Though before being entrusted with this mission by the Saint, he had often accompanied the executioners of the Tribunal on operations and had seen his share of frontline combat, he was ultimately not a professional fighter. Moreover, even professional fighters might not stand a chance against so many regular troops.

Most of the Torch Church's research facilities were built upon shelters, a trait somewhat similar to the Enlightened Society and even the Alliance.

This underground facility was no exception. Originally named Vault 182, it had opened in the early days of the Wasteland Era and was later converted by the Torch Church into the 182nd Biological Research Institute, dedicated to the study of Gestalt lifeforms and their sub-projects.

The entrance to this facility was located at the center of the old Fortress Town, and at this moment, the Alliance was sending two platoons to search in this direction.

The hearts of all the staff were in their throats, panic written on every face.

"Probably the mutants on the surface gave away our location..." an older researcher swallowed hard and cursed, "Those useless pigs who can't accomplish anything but ruin everything!"

The researcher standing next to him said nervously.

"Mutants... why would mutants come here?!"

Another researcher, wearing glasses, spoke gravely.

"Who knows... Probably their communication gear broke and they came to ask what happened. Damn it... Those idiots, can't they adapt on the fly?!"

From the surveillance footage, it wasn't just a few mutants hiding in this area—there was a whole company of them!

He even suspected whether these fools were deserters from the front lines!

Some of the researchers were arguing frantically, while others secretly felt relieved.

The latter were mainly researchers from North Island.

If it weren't for Charas pointing a gun at them and threatening to install brainwashing chips, no one would have willingly come to this godforsaken place to design equipment for mutants.

Though they dared not show it on their faces, they were secretly the happiest.

Since the Alliance had landed on the Death Coast, Charas must have already been finished.

Though they weren't out of danger yet, at least their families were safe.

Ignoring the incessant bickering of the staff, Alzu urged the communications engineer who was busy repairing the communication equipment.

"How much longer will it take?!"

"Almost, almost there! Give me ten more minutes!" The engineer, staring at a tablet, tapped frantically on the touchscreen with his index finger, sweat beading on his forehead.

On the tablet's screen was a thumb-sized robot shaped like a flying insect, currently crawling among a tangle of wires, rubbing its needle-thin mechanical arms together, occasionally emitting sparks from its tips.

Finally, just as his sweat dripped onto the floor for the nth time, the circuit-repairing insect-like robot completed all its welding operations, fixing the circuit section burned out by the electromagnetic pulse.

He let out a long breath, leaned back in his chair, wiped the sweat from his brow, and said joyfully.

"It's done—"

Before he could finish, Alzu shoved him aside.

The latter snatched the tablet in a panic, tapped it a few times with his finger, and connected to the Tribunal at the rear.

When he saw the [Connection Established] icon appear on the screen, a flash of ecstasy crossed his face. He grabbed the headset and shouted recklessly.

"Calling the Tribunal, this is Institute 182! The Alliance is closing in on us, we need reinforcements!"

Institute 182 stored a vast amount of data on the Gestalt lifeform project; the Tribunal wouldn't abandon them!

Compared to those mutant cannon fodder, the combat elites armed with pre-war equipment produced by black-box factories were the Torch Church's true trump card!

After a brief silence, a steady, reliable voice came from the other end of the communication channel.

"...This is the Punishment Squad. We have received orders and are heading to your vicinity. Keep the doors sealed and wait patiently!"

Hearing this voice, like a heavenly melody, Alzu clenched his fists in excitement.

There was hope!

On the other side, in a mountainous area just two kilometers from the underground facility.

About forty soldiers in exoskeletons lay quietly at the edge of the forest, their almost completely transparent outlines blending seamlessly with the surrounding environment.

Under the effect of the optical camouflage device, as long as they remained still, no one could spot them with the naked eye.

Standing in the middle of the group, a man who looked like the captain stared coldly toward Fortress Town, tapping his helmet lightly with his finger.

"This is 'Hunter.' We have arrived near the target... Confirming the target lost contact due to an EMP strike."

The Saint's voice came through the communication channel.

"How's the battle going?"

The man called Hunter said in a low voice.

"The Alliance has landed on the shore. The local garrison was thoroughly defeated."

There was a silence on the channel for about half a minute before the voice continued.

"...Bring Alzu and the data from the institute back. Take as many others as you can; dispose of those you can't."

A sharp glint flashed in Hunter's eyes.

"Understood."

...

At the same time Alzu was calling for reinforcements from the Tribunal, two platoons from the First Company of the Burning Legion's First Battalion had already reached the edge of Fortress Town, hidden in the dense forest.

This settlement was like a castle, with its outer row houses standing like towering walls.

The windows on the first floor started at a height of six meters, and all were fitted with steel-mesh security bars. The highest windows were over twenty meters up, and the rooftops were designed as firing platforms with cover.

Between the row houses were only three to five steps' width, with crooked skybridges connecting them, looking from afar like the gate towers of a city wall.

[Serendipity] could imagine how, back when this settlement was still inhabited, the survivors had fought off raiders invading their home.

They piled obstacles on those skybridges, shot at invaders from the rooftops, and once the invaders passed under the bridges, they dropped the obstacles to split the invading force into two.

But those brave people were long gone, leaving only a few green heads peeking out.

[One Step to Heaven] opened his VM and retrieved the data he had downloaded from the official website earlier.

"I heard that about a dozen years ago, there was a survivor self-help alliance called 'Iron Tower' in this area. They used signal towers from the Union era as landmarks and organized militias to patrol between settlements... Kind of like us."

"There's information on the official site about this settlement. It was originally an outpost built on the surface by Vault 182. Later, for some reason, both Vault 182 and the surface outpost were abandoned. It wasn't until around the 100th year of the Wasteland Era that a group of wastelanders reused the facilities and expanded and improved the outer buildings."

"Then the 'Iron Tower' organization was born and took over this settlement. Its population slowly grew from a few hundred to twenty thousand... until the Torch came and reset that number to zero."

Even if this settlement site wasn't within the scope of the Alliance's three-phase offensive, they would have returned to search it after the landing operation was complete. But just now, their drones had spotted mutant activity in this area, so Brother Killdagger had sent them ahead to check if there was any big catch.

The two players standing nearby, hearing what One Step to Heaven said, couldn't help but comment.

"Reset to zero, huh..."

"What a dark joke."

"That's how it's written in the lore book. I'm just reading it. If you have a problem, take it up with the devs."

One Step to Heaven held the camera that belonged to his family’s elder brother and snapped a few shots of the settlement’s exterior.

This camera was the only relic left in the world by his good brother, though in a few days that bastard would come back to life.

“…Speaking of which, the settlements on this wasteland are truly bizarre,” Half-Year Wasted remarked with a sigh. “There’s the million-strong slum of Golden Garon Port, the stacked-grid blocks of Ring Island, and this kind of mud-brick fort.”

“After all, it’s the wasteland,” Half-Year Wasted quipped.

“There are three mutants moving about at the entrance… can’t see what’s inside,” One Step to Heaven lowered the camera and looked at Old Yin, asking with his eyes, “Do we strike directly, or sneak in first to see what’s going on?”

“Too much trouble,” Mistaken Fortune raised his right hand into a fist and made an attack gesture to the teammates behind him. “Kill all the beasts here, then we’ll take our time figuring out what’s inside.”

“Killing everyone is the perfect stealth,” Half-Year Wasted excitedly grabbed the rifle hanging on his chest, chambering a round with a click. “Time to work, time to work!”

The mutants standing at the settlement’s entrance had no idea disaster was upon them; they were still grunting and chatting.

Just then, three gunshots rang out almost simultaneously, and three heads burst into a spray of blood mist, red and white splattering all over the ground with a bang.

“Alliance!!”

Spotting the sentry at the gate fall, the mutant behind the gatehouse bellowed, then grabbed its rifle and sprayed toward the entrance, rattling away for a while without seeing anyone.

In a moment of carelessness, it emptied its magazine, hastily yanked it out to reload, but before it could slot in a new one, a quadcopter drone with a gun barrel mounted swept over the porch and blew its head off with a burst of gunfire.

Mistaken Fortune led the three players behind him into the alley first, his rifle popping off precise shots, taking down several mutants that tried to surround them.

Meanwhile, the three squads of the first platoon split into nine teams, charging into the abandoned town from nine directions, while the second platoon circled to the town’s flank to feign an attack and divert the mutants’ fire.

Facing simultaneous assaults from multiple directions, the mutants in the town were thrown into confusion.

Looking at the bodies strewn across the alley, a strength-based player reloaded his magazine and couldn’t help but mock.

“The mutants in Clearwater City were way smarter than these.”

Another player beside him said succinctly.

“Yeah, pretty weak. Probably rookies.”

Mutants weren’t actually stupid, just a bit hot-tempered.

According to veteran players, the mutants they encountered long ago on the outskirts of Clearwater City could not only make landmines and traps but even craft their own rifles.

In the end, it took the friends of the Pioneer to wipe out those beasts.

Footage of that battle could still be found on the official forum, so it wasn’t just boasting.

But the mutants here were completely different—they couldn’t even use the terrain to fight, let alone handle their weapons properly.

The Torch Church seemed to have mass-produced a batch of mutants through some special method, but these mutants, like the Legion’s eightfold-speed-grown clones, were far inferior in mind and experience to the naturally grown green-skinned brutes.

Sixty against a hundred!

The battle had no suspense at all, turning into a one-sided slaughter!

Seeing how easy these mutants were to deal with, some players couldn’t help but get cocky.

But just then, something unexpected happened.

A four-man team was trying to cross an alley into the town center square when a gunshot rang out from straight ahead, and the player in front instantly had his head blown off.

“Sniper!”

“Scatter!”

The remaining three were startled, dropping their chatter on the comm channel, and quickly ducked into cover on both sides.

One player hid behind a concrete block.

The other two crashed through a window and rolled into a house beside the alley.

But then another bang echoed.

The squad leader, who had just rolled into the house, caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye: the teammate behind the concrete block was shot clean through, man and cover alike, flesh and concrete debris scattering everywhere.

“What the hell?! What was that?”

The player by the window stared wide-eyed, looking like he’d seen a ghost.

They’d fought from the edge of town to the center without a single death, and now in just a few seconds, two were downed by two shots!

“It’s a Gauss rifle!”

The squad leader crouching beside him looked grim, staring at where the two teammates fell. He marked the building complex ahead on his VM map and shouted into his radio.

“Alpha team in contact! Bravo and Charlie teams, spread out! Flank from both sides, wait for airstrike before engaging!”

After giving orders to the other two teams, the squad leader switched channels and yelled.

“…This is First Platoon, Second Squad. We’ve encountered an enemy sniper! He took out two of our guys! We need air support!”

A reply came quickly over the channel.

“Roger. Can you lock their position?”

The squad leader glanced out the window, not daring to stick his head out or reveal he was by the window, and gritted his teeth.

“Exact location uncertain, but we’ve marked the general area on the map… Those aren’t mutants! They must be Torch’s Tribunal!”

“Copy. Coordinates synced to air support… ETA one minute!”

After cutting the call, the squad leader gave a look to the player beside him, who understood and pulled a drone from his pack, crouching low to slip to the other side of the building and toss it out.

The quadcopter tumbled in the air, quickly stabilized, and buzzed upward.

The drone’s camera locked onto the sniper’s general area, feeding footage and relative coordinates to the approaching P-2 “Lightning” attack aircraft.

Bravo and Charlie teams had crept close to the sniper’s position, counting down nervously.

A minute felt like an eternity as both sides held a silent standoff.

And then, the cannon fire slammed into the ground, thundering across the entire square!

Hundreds of large-caliber rounds poured down in an instant, crushing a whole stretch of dilapidated buildings on the north side of the square with irresistible force.

Only after the explosion’s light and dust shot skyward did the roar of the cannon and the scream of the attack plane’s engines belatedly sweep over the players’ heads.

“Pew—!”

Watching the streaking silhouette, the players on the ground felt their morale surge.

Taking advantage of the dust kicked up by the blast, the squad leader rolled out of cover in one swift motion, his exoskeleton driving him forward into the billowing smoke as he shouted into the comm.

“Close in!”

The three teams moved at once, attacking the cannon-swept ruins from three directions, and sure enough, they found the sniper retreating, along with another soldier in exoskeleton armor beside him.

It was Torch’s Tribunal!

Seeing their gear, the players recognized them instantly.

But no one was afraid; instead, faces lit up with surprise.

“Well, well, the Tribunal!”

“Elite mob! An elite mob has spawned!”

The two executioners, though not killed by the airstrike, were clearly wounded and dared not tangle with the closing players, quickly falling back.

Seeing the elite mob about to flee, the players weren’t about to let them go and gave chase.

Then, after taking just a few steps along the crooked alley, the squad leader sensed something amiss.

These two elite monsters seemed to be luring them?

The more he thought about it, the more he felt something was wrong. He immediately reset the rally point coordinates on his VM map.

"Cease pursuit! Second squad, listen up! Everyone, hold your positions and defend!"

They had strayed too far from their teammates.

If the Inquisitors of the Tribunal were lying in ambush ahead, they could easily be swallowed up in one go.

Though it risked letting the two snipers escape, he dared not gamble with his teammates' respawn cooldowns and gear.

These guys were no pushovers!

At that thought, a flicker of excitement gleamed in his eyes, and sweat began to bead on his palms.

Yet it was not from fear.

But from thrill!

They had been steamrolling weaklings for a while—finally, a chance to spar with the strong!

A crackling sound came through the comm channel.

Squad leader B: "Boss, not chasing anymore?"

Squad leader C: "Chase my ass! Haven't you noticed these two elites are kiting us?"

Squad leader B: "Holy shit?!"

At the very moment the players halted their pursuit, the two retreating snipers also noticed the change behind them—the soldiers who had been hounding them suddenly stopped.

They exchanged a glance, and the spotter immediately reported the situation back.

"The fish have slipped the hook. The enemy squad has stopped chasing."

Meanwhile, the Hunter, lying in ambush inside a three-story building several hundred meters away, furrowed his brow.

The entrance to the underground facility was in the plaza, now under the control of Alliance soldiers.

The battle on the beach was already over. They had to finish this before Alliance reinforcements arrived!

There was no time left for hesitation.

In just a few seconds, he made his decision and unhesitatingly ordered through the comm channel.

"First and second squads, advance. Third and fourth squads, flank from the sides!"

"Finish this quickly!"

"Roger!" Resounding, forceful replies echoed through the channel. One by one, figures lurking in the shadows of abandoned buildings stepped out from the environment that had nearly merged with them, encircling the Alliance squad that had stopped its pursuit.

At the same time, the other two squads of the first platoon also sensed something was off. They called for the second platoon to push forward while immediately moving to reinforce the second squad.

And just then, news that the squad searching the ruins of Fort Town had encountered the Tribunal of the Torch Church reached Old Bai, who was directing the construction of the camp and dock on the beachhead.

Glancing at the map and the intel, Old Bai made a judgment in two seconds.

"Eighty percent chance it's a big fish."

"I think so too," Fang Chang nodded, stroking his chin with interest. "How about I take a team over to check it out?"

According to the intel they had gathered, there was a shelter ruin there. Though it had been abandoned for over a century, it was possible the Torch Church had converted it into a research facility.

Similar cases had occurred on the northern front.

Old Bai laughed heartily and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Alright, it's yours!"

The battle on the beach was essentially over; they weren't short on manpower for now.

The mutant ten-thousand-man force defending the position had been completely routed, scattering like headless flies toward the rear. The remaining tasks were just cleaning up the battlefield and building the dock—no need for him to oversee it personally.

Stepping out of the command tent, Fang Chang immediately led a company of players aboard the "Chimera" infantry fighting vehicles that had just landed via the floating dock. He also requested two Cloud Dragonfly ornithopters from the NPC forces as support, then charged toward Fort Town.

By the time he arrived on the scene, two platoons of the first company were locked in a fierce, evenly matched fight with the Tribunal squad of the Torch Church. The sound of gunfire echoed incessantly through the ruins.

Judging by the precise, ruthless rhythm of their attacks, these guys were likely the same as those they had encountered before in the eastern outskirts of Clear Spring City and at the Pine Nut Farm—the so-called "Executioners" of the Torch Church's Tribunal!

Seeing Alliance reinforcements pour onto the battlefield, the Hunter, who had been leading the fight on the front lines, felt a surge of despair.

Too fast!

Just like during the landing, these guys didn't waste a single moment. As soon as the strategic missiles hit, the landing craft and armored vehicles rushed in.

They had only just figured out why the forward command post had gone silent when the Alliance landing force had already punched through their beachhead defenses!

Now it was the same. They had been exchanging fire with the Alliance reconnaissance unit near Fort Town for less than twenty minutes before the main force arrived to reinforce.

There wasn't a single shred of opportunity!

If they kept dragging this out, they would soon face not just a few ten-man squads, but a battalion- or even regiment-level encirclement.

Looking at the dozen or so bodies left by both sides and the position they had failed to take, the Hunter finally gritted his teeth and barked into the comm channel.

"Retreat!"

With that, he turned and vanished into the shadows of the settlement's buildings, not daring to linger a moment longer.

The other squads did the same. Just before the Cloud Dragonfly ornithopters arrived on the battlefield, they all turned and withdrew, melting into the darkness.

The mission had failed.

All they could do now was minimize losses.

Yet a heavy gloom settled over every Executioner's heart.

Though their faith was devout and they never doubted the supreme Son, they couldn't even catch a glimpse of hope for victory—let alone a single piece of "good news."

The pressure on the front line suddenly eased, and the players crouched behind cover let out a long sigh.

This fight had been exhilarating, but their opponents' gear was absurdly strong—almost everyone had optical camouflage and auto-aim lock-on. They had nearly snatched the position away several times.

If the reinforcements had arrived ten minutes later, the outcome would have been uncertain.

As Fang Chang walked to the front line, the player who had been commanding the battle, Yin Cha Yang Cuo, approached and reported the full account of the skirmish, including casualties.

"...We were initially engaging the mutants when these guys suddenly popped up. I think they were trying to take something, but they didn't succeed."

"These people aren't stupid. They knew continuing the fight was pointless, so they chose to retreat decisively," Fang Chang said, scanning the surroundings. His eyes narrowed slightly, and a faint smile curled at the corner of his mouth. "We'll soon find out what they were so desperate to take."

At that very moment, a player who had accompanied him as reinforcements walked over.

"We found an underground passage beneath the public restroom in the plaza. It looks like the entrance to Vault 182."

Hearing the location, Yin Cha Yang Cuo's eyebrow twitched involuntarily.

"These guys have some taste."

"Maybe not their taste—could be the pre-war designers," Fang Chang joked, then turned to the reporting player. "Let's go down together and see what's hidden in this vault."

If it was a vault restored after being abandoned, the security protocols might not be the original pre-war versions. It might be possible to bypass the door lock through external hacking.

That depended on the reason for the vault's abandonment, the last overseer's arrangements for its fate, and how the inheritors had taken over.

For a vault reopened through unconventional means, an official offline key could unlock it. For slightly more complex door lock programs, it was just a matter of setting up an antenna and connecting to the network.

These were experiences summed up by players active in Pioneer City, and naturally they held true for other regions of the wasteland as well.

Hearing that it was time to "open the blind boxes," a look of eager anticipation instantly appeared on the faces of the players.

"Let's go!"

"Haha, hurry up!"

Meanwhile, Alzu was pacing back and forth near the buffer door of the shelter, muttering curses from time to time.

"Damn it, why so slow?"

What were these people dawdling about!

He had already backed up all the data in the shelter onto the chip in his brain, deleted every original file he could, and messed up what he couldn't delete as much as possible—all so he could slip away quickly when retreating.

Just then, a staff member rushed through the buffer door in a panic and ran up to him.

"Mr. Alzu... they're here!"

Alzu's face lit up with joy upon hearing this.

"They're here?! Then why not open the door quickly!"

Seeing that he was still talking in his sleep, the staff member was so anxious he was almost in tears.

"No, it's not the Tribunal—it's the Alliance!"

In an instant, the old face under the hood rapidly lost its color, lips turning pale and then blue.

The Alliance is here...

How could that be?!

In a daze, he saw the gear-shaped door suddenly shudder, then roll to one side under the pull of a mechanical arm.

The staff member who had come to deliver the news was startled, and upon seeing this, he collapsed directly onto the ground.

As for Alzu, he had completely frozen, standing there dumbfounded as if he had turned to stone.

The massive gear-shaped door slowly opened.

A man in power armor stood at the entrance.

He raised his left arm, his right hand holding a data cable pulled from the armor on that arm.

The connector seemed about to plug into a certain spot on the door, but hadn't yet.

Looking at the old man in the gray robe standing at the entrance, and the man slumped on the ground beside him, Fang Chang was visibly taken aback and muttered to himself.

"Strange..."

He hadn't even done anything yet.

How did this door open by itself?