Chapter 791: 'No One Knows A-Guang Better Than Me'

Chapter 791: "No One Knows A-Guang Better Than Me"

On the Death Coast, on a floating dock paved with steel plates, a group of construction workers in overalls, carrying shovels and toolboxes, were disembarking one after another.

They were soldiers of the Imperial Expeditionary Force, previously stationed at Oil Port Harbor.

Although the Alliance occasionally took them out for target practice, it was clear from the start that the players never intended to throw them onto the front lines.

And thank heavens for that.

As they stepped onto the shore, many immediately vomited uncontrollably, their faces pale, their limbs numb.

The reason was, of course, seasickness, but half of it was due to the gruesome scene on the beach.

Bloated, mutilated corpses lay scattered haphazardly across the sand—some blue, some green, some human. Though the bodies in the trenches had already been moved by the players, some mutants that had died in the sea were washed ashore by the waves one after another.

Not just corpses, but also aberrations drawn by the stench.

Some unnaturally large sea crabs were the first to catch the rotting smell, pouncing on the bodies, rustling as they gnawed, feasting heartily on a self-service buffet.

The men swallowed saliva and stomach acid as they dragged their stiff legs onto the shore.

But just then, a gunshot rang out abruptly on the beach.

"Bang—!"

The sudden sound startled everyone. Muscle memory from training made them instinctively drop to the ground, until they saw a Bluecoat in an exoskeleton walking toward them.

"Don't worry, it's me."

Carrying a shotgun, Half-Year Vicissitude walked over to the dock, waved with a smile, then pointed not far from the floating dock beneath their feet.

There, a mutated sea crab over a meter tall lay toppled in a waterlogged sandpit, half its head blown apart by shotgun pellets.

Its shell blended so well with the sand that none of them had noticed, their attention fixed on the corpses on the shore.

Looking at these terrified expeditionary soldiers, Half-Year Vicissitude said with a grin.

"Watch your step. These things have powerful pincers—one snap and they can break your leg... We've already spent enough money on you; we don't want to have to fit you with a prosthetic leg."

Seeing no one speak, he cut to the chase.

"Your task is simple: clean up the corpses on the beach, drag them to a spot about five kilometers from the coastline, and burn them with the fuel we provide..."

"The Torch Church's military presence in this area has been dismantled, so there shouldn't be much danger. Of course, I can only say 'shouldn't,' because anything can happen on a battlefield. Keep your eyes open and be ready for any possible threats."

"That's the situation. Ask any questions now if you have them; if not, get to work."

After saying this, Half-Year Vicissitude waited a moment. When no one spoke, he turned to leave.

But just then, a young man timidly raised his hand.

"I... have a question."

His voice was hesitant, as most ratfolk were when speaking with them.

Half-Year Vicissitude didn't mind and waved his right hand.

"Then ask quickly."

The young man swallowed and spoke rapidly.

"Why not just let the crabs eat them?"

In his view, there was no need to bother—if left alone, the crabs would devour them clean.

Hearing this fanciful idea, Half-Year Vicissitude laughed and said mockingly.

"Once you've fed them full, guess how many more there'll be?"

Why do these NPCs act more like NPCs than me?

He was about to turn away when the young man muttered again.

"What if we dig a pit farther from the dock, bury the corpses in a water hole... maybe we could lure the mutated crabs over there."

He wasn't complaining about the trouble of moving corpses; he just thought the crabs were edible and it would be a shame to drive them away. Back when they first arrived at Oil Port Harbor, they often picked up crabs killed by Alliance soldiers and roasted them together.

Half-Year Vicissitude looked at the young man in surprise.

Damn.

This game's NPCs are this realistic?!

But honestly, after thinking it over, the idea wasn't bad.

Of course, he also wanted to improve his own meals, so he walked over with a grin and patted the young man on the shoulder.

"Brother, what's your name?"

The young man stammered.

"Dan..."

"Then I'll call you A-Dan, haha. Future crab tycoon A-Dan."

With that, Half-Year Vicissitude tossed him a set of keys with a license plate tag, then, remembering something, shoved his own shotgun and a walkie-talkie into Dan's hands, continuing with a smile.

"The truck is yours to use. These men are at your command... and this shotgun and walkie-talkie. I want your crab farm at least five kilometers from here. If you're attacked, call us."

The young man named Dan was stunned for a moment, then nodded with ecstatic joy.

"Don't worry, sir. Leave it to me. I'll make sure you're satisfied!"

From the smile on that Alliance soldier's face, he saw a chance to change his fate!

If he did well, maybe he could stay...

Half-Year Vicissitude didn't care much. He made a "get to work" gesture with a smile and walked back to the shore.

Standing on the shore, One Step to Heaven asked as he approached.

"Is this okay?"

Half-Year Vicissitude laughed.

"What could go wrong? Putting those mutant corpses to good use is fine. Don't be so serious, haha."

Maybe after the war, these mutated sea crabs would become a local specialty.

Seeing his playful expression, One Step to Heaven made a helpless face.

"Alright."

He didn't mind, as long as it didn't interfere with supply deliveries.

...

The dusk hanging at the edge of the sky gradually fell.

While the expeditionary forces at Oil Port Harbor were disembarking one after another, Duke Nihark, who had stubbornly refused to leave the South Sea Alliance fleet, finally hesitantly stepped ashore after seeing General Li Minghui go to the beach.

After all, he was a duke of the empire; he couldn't let himself be looked down upon.

Not only that.

As a duke of the empire, now that the expeditionary forces had finally landed on Torch Church's territory, it would be somewhat improper not to make an appearance.

But what he hadn’t expected was that the situation on the shore was even more brutal than he had imagined—the thick, cloying smell of blood hadn’t dissipated even after a full day of sea breeze.

Standing on the undulating steel plates, Duke Nihark felt as if his nostrils were soaked in blood, his legs trembling uncontrollably.

So this is the front line...

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nearly dry saliva, his pupils brimming with uncontrollable terror.

Though he had witnessed the Alliance’s true strength on holographic screens, the death he saw through a screen was far less profound than what he now felt.

These bastards aren’t human...

Whether it was those lying on the beach or those camped on the shore...

They were all demons!

Pushing aside the guards who came to support him, he moved his stiff legs and walked toward the shore.

Not far away was the Alliance camp—rows of tents lined the edge of the beach, with lights shining from the watchtowers.

A flicker of hope stirred in his heart: hope that the camp was filled with wounded soldiers, hope that this battle had left both the Torch and the Alliance crippled, hope that the Empire could stand atop the world from now on. But the moment he stepped into the camp, all his hopes crumbled.

Those soldiers sat on the very positions they had fought in, lighting bonfires where their enemies had fallen.

They paid no heed to the bullet holes and bloodstains on the ground; they sat before the fires, laughing and chatting as they roasted meat and sang songs.

And it wasn’t just the Alliance soldiers.

He saw with his own eyes that several soldiers from the Expeditionary Force were also pulled to sit with them. Among them, someone who knew how to play an instrument improvised on a short flute from the Boro Province, beating drums made of animal hide and bone to accompany the hoarse, powerful singing.

“...The gears of heaven fell into the furnace.”

“Boiling steel splashed from the crucible.”

“The undying calamity marches ever on.”

“We shall recast the realm of mortals!”

“...”

“The hounds of chaos have their heads severed.”

“The fire of punishment is the home of lies.”

“If twisting black and white is the path to heaven...”

“Then we’ll turn it all upside down first!”

He couldn’t understand what they were singing, but he felt the blood in his veins surge with the melody.

A sudden fear gripped him, especially when he saw the Expeditionary Force soldiers humming along softly.

The lyrics seemed to carry some kind of treasonous curse...

Someone noticed him and pointed with a laugh. Before he knew it, he was pulled to sit by the bonfire.

The two guards beside him were also dragged to the fire.

“...Cheer up, don’t look so glum—the war is almost over!”

“Sure, you’ve still got a mountain of problems to deal with, but at least now we can celebrate a shared victory...” KillDagger laughed, patting Duke Nihark on the shoulder. “This is a victory for all humanity, not just ours, but yours too.”

“...D-don’t talk nonsense!”

Duke Nihark’s eyes bulged like a mouse whose tail had been stepped on—and a very old mouse at that.

“We have no problems! We’re perfectly fine! You’re the ones with the problems—you brought all that stinking garbage... that wasteland to the Boro Province! Before you came to our place, we were doing just fine!”

His beard trembled with rage, his lips turning blue, and he didn’t even realize the contradiction in his words—first saying they were fine now, then saying they were fine before the Alliance came.

Seeing this living clown, the players burst out laughing. Old KillDagger patted his shoulder again with a grin.

“Of course you’re fine—the ones buried in the ground can’t talk.”

He vaguely remembered that when they caught this guy, he was having a good time in bed.

Before the fuming duke could retort, Old KillDagger poured him a drink.

“Come on, have some wine and meat. Today’s a day to celebrate—don’t let small things ruin the mood.”

Staring at the meat leg shoved into his hand, Nihark couldn’t help but think of the corpses everywhere. His face paled slightly as he asked in a trembling voice.

“What kind of meat is this?”

Seeing his terrified expression, KillDagger immediately knew where his mind had gone and laughed heartily.

“Monster meat—we just killed it. Tastes a bit like bear... Want a try?”

Meeting the challenging gaze, Duke Nihark didn’t want to be looked down upon, so he scowled and took a bite.

The aroma of roasted meat spread between his lips and teeth, the greasy texture making his eyes light up.

Hmm...

Not bad, actually?

Though these Alliance folks were a bit rough, he had to admit they had some skill in cooking.

Seeing the duke stop his fussing, the players resumed their lively banquet, chatting and laughing.

KillDagger was joking around with his teammates when a light blue icon popped up on his VM.

“Old Bai’s calling me—probably a mission. You guys keep eating, I’ll head out first.”

He waved goodbye to his teammates with a laugh, picked up his helmet, and walked toward the command tent deeper in the camp.

When he lifted the tent flap and stepped inside, he saw Old Bai and Fang Chang standing by the command table, intently studying the map spread out before them.

Rarely did he see the two look so serious. KillDagger immediately guessed a big job was coming, and his face lit up with excitement.

“Got a job?”

“Yeah, and it’s a big one...” Fang Chang, pinching his chin, nodded and summarized the intelligence he’d just received from the Praetorian Guard.

In short, a middle-to-high-ranking member of the Torch Church had turned traitor and offered to guide them. Since his name wasn’t on the “evacuation list,” he hoped to surrender to the Alliance for leniency.

KillDagger thought the guy was pretty unlucky.

Usually, if you knew about the list, you’d be on it.

But this guy knew about it and still wasn’t on it.

Setting aside how he’d ended up in that position, what puzzled KillDagger most was something else.

The Torch Church’s high command was planning to flee?

These bastards were surrounded like turtles in a jar—where the hell could they run?

Was there any place left on Earth for them?

Wait, could it be—

Seeing the stunned expression on KillDagger’s face, Fang Chang gave a faint smile.

“Looks like I don’t need to explain—you’ve figured it out.”

KillDagger nodded, his expression turning grave.

“The Torch Church has a spaceship...”

Fang Chang: “...”

Old Bai cleared his throat.

“What do they want a spaceship for... Think it over again.”

Killer’s Dagger was taken aback.

“Huh? Then... where else could they run?”

“Actually, it’s not entirely impossible,” Fang Chang suddenly spoke up. “Maybe it’s a spaceship, maybe a space station, or even a satellite or a hard drive... But the chance of them fleeing directly by spaceship is slim. I’m more inclined to think they plan to use some high-power transmission device to send signals to equipment in outer space.”

The planet’s outer space was littered with countless spacecraft wrecks, including some still-functioning satellites, even automated weapons.

Due to the widespread use of fusion technology, many outer space devices left from the Human Union era had lifespans measured in centuries.

He paused, then continued.

“If that’s the case, I have reason to believe that while we’ve been discussing this, they’ve already completed the data transfer. Don’t forget, those guys never had physical forms; they uploaded their data to the so-called Sanctuary long ago.”

Killer’s Dagger was stunned, speaking in confusion.

“Then wouldn’t it be... pointless for us to chase after them now?”

“Not entirely pointless. While intercepting the data migration is probably unrealistic, at least we can figure out where their data was sent, and...”

Staring intently at the map, Fang Chang continued with a meaningful tone.

“...where our enemy truly is.”

“Enemy...” Killer’s Dagger didn’t understand what he meant, repeating the word blankly.

Old Bai looked at him and explained.

“Fang Chang and I both think there might be other backers behind the Torch.”

Killer’s Dagger: “Other backers are...”

Seeing his still clueless expression, Fang Chang cut straight to the point.

“Remember the third update in Beta 0.6? The Alpha Centauri system and the Gaia world.”

“Damn, you mean... the pie the devs drew?” Killer stared at him in disbelief. “But wasn’t that just a joke?”

Fang Chang gave a faint smile.

“Then you’re underestimating A Guang too much.”

When everyone thought it was a joke, it most likely wasn’t.

He was certain the map five light-years away was already made, and it had been influencing the game world since Beta 0.6, though most hadn’t realized it.

He couldn’t be a hundred percent sure the Torch was backed by the “Gaia faction,” but he was certain this mission was the first link connecting players to the new world quest chain!

He could even assert that similar opportunities might have appeared before, just never triggered.

That was why this mission flew straight to them like a fastball.

Most events in this game seemed isolated, but if you dug deeper, you’d eventually find connections between them all!

He could confidently say no one understood A Guang better than him!

After hearing Fang Chang’s analysis, Killer’s Dagger found it plausible, his eyes growing brighter.

“So, the chance to establish a link with the world five light-years away lies in this mission? Wait, damn! If we fail, won’t we miss the opportunity to unlock the new map?”

Fang Chang shook his head.

“Not necessarily. Since the dev team made the map, they’ll give players a chance to go. But many missions in this game are unique, and each player’s opportunities are limited. If we miss this, the next trigger will likely fall to other players.”

“Analyzing this now is useless. Let’s get back to the mission itself.”

Old Bai cleared his throat softly, ending the slightly off-topic discussion, and looked at the map spread on the table.

“...According to the Praetorian Guard’s intel, the Torch’s top brass are currently hiding in an underground facility called Shelter 20. The entrance is in an abandoned industrial park from the old era, similar to Shelter 182—reopened after years of disuse. So breaking through the security system won’t be too hard for us.”

“The NPC providing us intel is named Karen. We have her biometric data—fingerprints, iris scans, even her three sizes... Ahem. Anyway, she might hold crucial information, including the whereabouts of the Torch’s high command, the backers behind the Torch, and data on the Gestalt Lifeform research project. So our primary task is to ensure her safety, then suppress the entire research facility and take control of Shelter 20.”

“According to the coordinates from the Praetorian Guard, the shelter is about 100 kilometers from our landing point. A third of the route is hilly with poor road conditions, so we probably can’t deploy much heavy equipment.”

Fang Chang nodded.

“A rapid insertion via Viper transports would be better... It’s still in Heaven’s Domain territory, so a quick strike is preferable.”

“I think the same,” Old Bai said with a grim smile. “Also, the Praetorian Guard warned us to watch out for friendly fire... This research facility is only about fifty kilometers from the Legion’s 31st Maniple. If we make too much noise and they realize there’s something valuable here, it’s hard to say if they’ll meddle and screw things up. We absolutely cannot let the Torch’s researchers fall into their hands.”

The Wilants were also holders of Gestalt Lifeform technology; their eightfold-growth clones were a product of that project.

In fact, it wasn’t just the Legion—they also had to watch out for the Academy.

The former at least operated in the open, while the latter mostly lurked in the shadows. Hard to tell if they already knew something.

After all, though the Alliance had been fighting the Torch, it wasn’t necessarily the Alliance that knew the Torch best.

Long before the Alliance was born, the Academy had noticed the crisis brewing in Haiya Province; it was they who “egged on” the Alliance to enter the Jinhe River area.

“So no air support available?” Killer’s Dagger asked gravely.

Fang Chang: “Air support isn’t a problem, and a bit of shelling should be fine, but we need to be cautious with saturation bombardment—that would tell the Legion we’re conducting a large-scale operation here... Best to resolve things quietly. If we must use it, save it for the retreat or cleanup.”

“That’s about it,” Old Bai nodded, looking at Killer’s Dagger. “Also, according to the informant, the facility is guarded by the Torch’s Inquisition strike teams and the Holy Light Knights loyal to the First Sanctum. The former are less than a company, but the latter are about a battalion, equipped with plenty of high-tech weapons.”

“Additionally, our drones spotted a mutant force of over a thousand in an abandoned city district near the facility... suspected to be a mutant tribe that retreated from Ten Peaks Mountain. If the Torch’s key facility is attacked, they’d have no reason not to rush in for support.”

“So, I plan to split the force into two. One group will act as a diversion, carrying light gear and landing via Overlord transports near the abandoned district, launching a surprise attack on the mutants to draw the Torch’s attention. The other group will use Viper transports to directly breach Shelter 20’s entrance, working with the inside contact to seize the entire facility!”

“That’s a great idea!” Killer’s Dagger’s eyes lit up as he nodded, but then noticed both of them staring at him, and froze. “Uh... why are you looking at me like that?”

Come to think of it, why was he the only one at this crucial operation meeting?

Where were the other brothers?

Old Bai and Fang Chang exchanged glances, and finally the latter walked up to Killer’s Dagger, placing his hands solemnly on his shoulders.

“...This arduous and glorious diversion mission, we plan to entrust to your First Battalion!”

Killer’s Dagger: “...”

Damn.