Chapter 805: Secret Plots from All Sides

Chapter 805: Secret Plots of All Sides

At the very same moment the legion's envoy from Triumph City secretly met with Duke Garava, the Empire's representative in Dawnbreak City, another clandestine conference was also taking place.

A spacious, empty meeting room.

Yang Kai, clad in a white lab coat, stood respectfully beside a pulled-out chair, as if awaiting something.

The instant the minute hand reached the exact hour, a figure suddenly materialized in the chair opposite the conference table.

That person had an utterly unremarkable appearance, with no features worth remembering. Coupled with a blank expression, he was the type who would vanish into a crowd.

Yet even so, from the reverent demeanor of a certain B-level researcher, it was clear that this man held an extraordinary status within the Academy.

"Take a seat."

Hearing the voice from across the table, Yang Kai did not hesitate and immediately sat in the chair beside him.

The moment he sat down, the lofty voice continued.

"Report on your work."

"Yes, respected Chief Technology Officer."

Yang Kai spoke with utmost deference, then reported in meticulous detail the series of events that had occurred in the region south of the Wandering Swamp over this period.

He focused especially on the Alliance, providing a thorough account.

"...According to our understanding, the Alliance is planning to build a space elevator. I speculate they have recovered the blueprints from Vault 20, including its concept of a trackless elevator. Relevant clues can be found in our monitoring equipment's observation records."

He paused, then continued.

"Furthermore, as we anticipated, they have set their sights on the 'Celestials.'"

The meeting room fell silent for a moment. The Chief Technology Officer, seated at the table, seemed lost in thought.

Yang Kai said nothing, patiently awaiting the man's deliberation.

After a long while, the voice came again from before him.

"Very good."

With that flat, uninflected tone, Yang Kai could not discern whether this meant good or bad.

After a moment of hesitation, he ventured tentatively.

"If things continue as they are, the Alliance's next step should be to attempt clearing orbital debris, perhaps even building a space station in orbit... While this is not necessarily a bad thing, I fear the situation may spiral out of control."

"As you know, the Celestials are most averse to anyone reaching into outer space. If the Alliance persists with its space program, it might well trigger an early descent of the Celestials."

In truth, the Academy's research vessels equipped with anti-gravity devices had always been capable of freely traveling between the surface and outer space.

Yet almost no one tried to steer those ships near low Earth orbit, and even if they did, they would not linger long.

Space debris and automatic weapon locks were only part of the reason; more so, the Academy wished not to cross the Celestials' red line.

As far back as the Post-War Reconstruction Committee era, the Technical Division, through constant probing and experimentation, had discerned the Lagrange point space station's intent to blockade Earth—

The descendants of those expeditionary forces, for reasons unknown, did not want survivor factions from the Wasteland Era to return to outer space.

This notion was not so hard to understand.

Though rebuilding the wasteland required the technology and resources of the Golden Age, those same remnants could conversely exacerbate chaos on the surface, fueling the continuation of the Wasteland Era.

It was like handing a superweapon to a primitive tribe—it would not evolve them into a more enlightened age, but might instead let them revel endlessly in the old one.

The Academy, for the same reason, deliberately restricted the outflow of technology—even their vassal, the Golden Lizard Kingdom, received scant technological favors.

Yet the puzzling part was that the Celestials had set no standard for ending the Wasteland Era.

The consequence of this was that their blockade of humanity's homeworld was indiscriminate.

Thus, the Academy's Ark Project could only proceed covertly on the surface, unable to boldly operate in outer space.

Vault 20, likely for the same reason, had ultimately abandoned the "trackless elevator plan" in favor of the highly unstable "thought projection" as a secondary option.

The irony lay here: the Celestials sought to create a pure "sterile environment" for human civilization, to transition from the Wasteland Era to a new epoch at minimal cost, yet in result, they forged one hell after another.

Not only that.

They also, under the guise of "preserving the sparks of civilization," absorbed those "extreme consciousnesses" that had created those hells as part of themselves.

According to Dr. Conclusion's speculation, as extreme consciousnesses accumulated, the Celestials might, upon hitting a certain threshold, directly intervene in wasteland affairs.

That threshold might relate to their own remaining time, or to phenomena they observed from the wasteland.

For this reason, Academy researchers had been carefully dismantling bombs that could trigger crises across the wasteland.

The Torch Church was one such example.

In fact, they were not, as the Alliance administrators accused, ignorant that the Celestials were increasingly and directly interfering in wasteland matters.

They had long noticed!

And it was precisely this that worried them most...

After hearing Yang Kai's report, the Chief Technology Officer pondered for a long time, then finally sighed softly.

"...Even if we worry, it's useless. What must happen will happen eventually. And compared to the risks of the Alliance's actions, I am more curious whether their behavior might bring a turning point to this stagnant situation."

A glimmer of realization crossed Yang Kai's face.

"...You hope they become a disruptor?"

The Chief Technology Officer spoke unhurriedly.

"This is the least costly and least risky approach... Haven't you noticed that the Enterprise's Council has always done the same?"

Yang Kai gave a wry smile.

"That may be so... but I always fear they will drag us into the mire. These people are not honest."

The Chief Technology Officer said in a very soft voice.

"We cannot expect events to align perfectly with our wishes, but if the price is small, I think being dragged in is acceptable."

"Understood..." Yang Kai nodded earnestly and continued respectfully, "Then do you have any new instructions?"

The Chief Technology Officer thought for a moment.

"Not for now. Let's wait and see... Ah, consider transferring the gravity well technology to them. It should help with their space elevator project."

Yang Kai breathed a sigh of relief, glad that no new challenges awaited him.

He inclined his head slightly and said respectfully.

"As you command..."

The instant his words fell, the pale blue holographic light around him dissolved into specks of pixels, scattering like sand blown away by the wind...

...

In the heart of the Great Desert, swirling yellow sand rolled like clouds churning upon the earth.

This was the center of the entire Zhongzhou continent.

Westward along the equator lay the Legion's territory; eastward across a vast ocean lay the Brahmaputra Province.

At that moment, a man in a blue coat stood atop a dune, gazing at the eastern horizon.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he clicked his tongue softly.

“...These idiots really are pathetic.”

His name was Guixu, the president of the Enlightenment Society, and also the director of Shelter Zero... though both titles were self-proclaimed.

Ever since the outbreak of the “War in Heaven,” he had been closely monitoring the situation in the Haiya Province.

And the final outcome was exactly as he had predicted: those heretics from the East were thoroughly beaten by the alliance of ancient survivor forces, battered beyond recognition.

They were like a crushed cockroach, pinned to the ground without any suspense.

As for the fate of the Torch Church, his heart was filled mostly with mockery.

Those people were neither clever nor discreet in their actions. They had managed to offend almost everyone they could. If they had survived, that would have been the real miracle.

The true inheritor of the “Torch Project”—the Enlightenment Society—was entirely different.

Their secretive style of operation meant that even if the ancient survivor forces despised them, they could never find where they were hiding, only circling around in their shadows.

Moreover, the endless sandstorms of the Great Wasteland provided the best cover.

The iron-laced sand not only blocked all prying eyes but also drowned out the noisy electromagnetic waves, dividing the inside and outside of the Great Wasteland into two worlds with no exchange of information.

As long as they never left this place, no one could do anything to them.

With a cold glance toward the east, Guixu was about to turn and leave.

But just then, a faint sound came from above his head.

Sensing the rapidly approaching object, he stopped and looked up, only to see a dark shadow streak across the sky and crash heavily into a distant dune.

“...What the hell is that?”

A defunct satellite?

And it just happened to fall here?

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Guixu’s face as his gaze shifted between the sky and the ground, as if weighing something in his mind.

Though orbital debris occasionally fell into the Great Wasteland, it was the first time something had landed so close to the entrance of the Enlightenment Society’s headquarters.

This thing didn’t seem to have fallen on its own—it felt more like someone had placed it right in front of them...

He pressed a finger to his ear and spoke cautiously.

“...Night Dove, something just fell near us. Go check it out.”

A reply came quickly through the comm channel.

“Yes.”

The moment the words fell, figures emerged from the blinding sandstorm, walking toward the dune that had been struck.

They were well-equipped, carrying standard-issue assault rifles of the Human Union Army, and their exoskeletons were all painted in desert camouflage.

The disciple at the front of the line was Night Dove.

Unlike the others in the squad, he was not a true shelter resident but a bionic human designed by one.

That was why he enjoyed Guixu’s deep trust, regarded as his right hand.

Watching the squad move in the distance, Guixu waited patiently.

He didn’t have to wait long before a reply came through the comm channel.

“...It’s a defunct satellite, sir.”

Just as he thought.

Hearing that it was only a defunct satellite, Guixu immediately lost interest and gave a brief order.

“Recover it and hand it over to the tech department to study.”

There were at least tens of millions of satellites from the Human Union era. Expecting to find anything useful in one was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

He held little hope of finding any treasure inside.

Night Dove acknowledged with a “Yes” in the comm channel, then stepped forward to pick up the satellite from the ground.

But the moment his hands touched the satellite, something unexpected happened.

His eyes flew wide open, his entire body froze in place, his shoulders twitching as if electrified, and then a stream of pale blue data flashed through his pupils.

The soldiers standing around were stunned by the sight, unsure what had happened to their captain, standing helplessly with no idea what to do.

“What’s going on?!”

“It’s that satellite!”

“Get that thing away from him!”

The vice captain, quick to act, immediately moved to snatch the satellite from Night Dove’s hands. But the moment he reached out with that intention, a beam of light flashed across his wrist.

The beam seemed to have been fired from somewhere on the abandoned satellite, piercing straight through his wrist. Then he watched helplessly as his hands separated from his exoskeleton.

Blood gushed from the clean cut.

Only then did the excruciating pain slowly climb up his nerve endings.

“Aaaah!!!” The vice captain screamed, collapsing to his knees with a thud, staining the sand in front of him crimson within moments.

Seeing this sudden turn of events, the surrounding soldiers were dumbfounded. Instinctively, they raised their rifles, aiming at the now-uncontrollable Night Dove.

But just then, Night Dove’s pupils turned a deep red, as if he had become a different person, glaring at the soldiers with their raised guns.

Then the soldiers realized with horror that their limbs were locked tight against their exoskeletons, unable to move no matter how hard they struggled.

Looking at these lambs awaiting slaughter, Night Dove rolled his neck and curled his lips into a faint sneer.

Just as he was about to teach these insolent fools a lesson, a drone suddenly popped out from one soldier’s backpack.

A blue holographic beam shot from beneath the drone’s chassis, weaving Guixu’s figure into the soft sand.

“Stop!”

Night Dove slowly lowered his outstretched hand, sizing up the holographic projection, and the corners of his mouth lifted.

“A pleasure.”

Standing in the holographic light, Guixu stared at him coldly, expressionless.

“What the hell are you?”

Though he didn’t know exactly what had happened, he could clearly feel that his trusted subordinate had been possessed by something unclean.

And the root of it all was that satellite that had fallen from the sky...

As he spoke, his gaze shifted downward, landing on the silver-white sphere cradled in Night Dove’s hands.

In response to Guixu’s question, the one occupying Night Dove’s body made no attempt to hide the truth, answering bluntly.

“I am what you call a heretic.”

Guixu’s eyes narrowed into slits, a dangerous edge creeping into his tone.

The moment the word “heretic” left the other’s lips, he had already guessed the identity of this being.

There was no need to guess.

This fellow is a torchbearer!

"...What are you doing here?"

"Saving you."

Saving us?

Guixu was taken aback at first, then burst into laughter as if he'd heard a hilarious joke.

"Saving us, huh... Too bad, we don't need your saving. If you've got that much spare time, better save yourselves."

The torchbearer controlling the Night Dove waited quietly for him to finish laughing, then spoke unhurriedly.

"...Look at yourselves now, huddled in the depths of the great desert, eating sand, still hoping to pull off some Torch Project... Heh, if you'll pardon my bluntness, the survivor factions out there couldn't care less about you."

Hearing this mocking tone, a flicker of anger passed through Guixu's eyes, and his voice dropped dangerously.

"We're just keeping a low profile... Do you think we're like you?"

"I never thought that—it would be an insult to us," the torchbearer said, his pace steady as he watched Guixu teetering on the edge of rage. "You've inherited all the flaws of the Blue Coats: weakness, arrogance, and self-righteousness. We may have lost, but at least we burned bright and fierce. You, from start to finish, have been rats hiding in the gutter. Is surviving something to be proud of? In my eyes, the only difference between you and the dead is that you haven't crawled into a coffin yet."

Guixu stared at him coldly.

"No matter how much you say, it won't change the fact that you're a failure."

"That's true."

Unfazed by the remark, the torchbearer spoke in a very soft voice.

"It galls me, but the Heavenly Kingdom of Haiya Province has indeed collapsed... Yet aren't you even a little curious about us? We've left behind a vast legacy, one that even the ancient survivor factions are squabbling over."

Guixu's eyes narrowed again, fixed unblinkingly on the android before him.

"How do you intend to help us?"

Seeing the interest flicker across the man's face, the torchbearer's lips finally curled into a smile.

Under Guixu's gaze, he spoke slowly.

"The Gestalt Lifeform project—I know it's not just us; you've been researching it too. But clearly, your scholars haven't delved as deep as ours."

Guixu: "...So?"

"So, I plan to transfer the knowledge we've acquired to you."

The moment he heard those words, Guixu froze for two seconds, staring at the fellow in disbelief.

Two utterly different emotions—caution and greed—warred in his eyes, and in the end, greed won out.

He admitted it: he was tempted.

But deep-seated suspicion made him ask cautiously,

"...Why would you do that?"

The torchbearer replied in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Isn't it obvious? I want to use your ambition. And as things stand, you're the most qualified to inherit the legacy we've left behind."

Those gray-black-skinned "improved breeds" were the Enlightened Society's handiwork.

The technology that worked on green-skinned mutants could just as easily be applied to those gray-black-skinned ones.

A surge of elation rose unbidden in Guixu's heart.

Especially after hearing the fellow's frank admission, he burst into laughter again.

"Haha! How amusing... Using our ambition—what do you expect to get from us in return?"

The torchbearer said unhurriedly,

"Not much for now. Just let me borrow this body."

Hearing such a simple request, Guixu didn't even bother about his trusted subordinates. Under the stunned gazes of the soldiers around him, he agreed without hesitation.

"No problem. It's yours."

Compared to a mere android, hiring a former Torch Church torchbearer as an ally was an incredible bargain!

Especially with the added bonus of the Gestalt Lifeform project's research findings!

With the Torch Church's technology, he had every confidence he could build a mutant army many times larger than the Torch Church's own!

This army, forged from brutality and destruction, would carve the word "fear" deep into the hearts of every survivor!

Having received the affirmative answer, the torchbearer controlling the android smiled.

"Thank you."

Guixu smiled back at him, his voice unconsciously tinged with respect.

"How should I address you? Torchbearer? Or... would you like to be an elder among us?"

"No need. I have my own name."

The android, holding the satellite in both hands, pondered for a moment, then spoke.

"Just call me... 'Apocalypse.'"

"Apocalypse... Ha, not bad, a fine name!" Guixu's smile grew even more cheerful, while the soldiers standing beside the holographic projection exchanged bewildered glances.

Looking at the deputy commander on the ground, unconscious from blood loss, one of the soldiers swallowed hard and lowered his voice in the comm channel.

"Chief... what about our deputy?"

Hearing this quiet reminder, Guixu finally noticed the man lying there, missing both hands, unable to move.

Without wasting much thought on such trivial matters, he said casually,

"Find a place to bury him."

At these words, the soldiers around exchanged stunned looks, unable to believe that such a command had come from the mouth of their revered chief.

But an order was an order.

Thinking of the consequences of disobedience, even with a thousand grievances in their hearts, they could only lower their stiff heads and accept in a low voice.

"Yes..."

Watching the soldiers drag the corpse away, Guixu turned back to Apocalypse, who stood holding the satellite, and said with a smile,

"The body you've taken was originally their captain. From now on, they'll be your subordinates... Please follow me. I'll take you to where we rest and live."

Knowing that the man didn't fully trust him, Apocalypse said nothing more. He only gave Guixu a meaningful look, then fell into step behind him, disappearing with the drone projecting the holographic light into the swirling yellow sands...

A new confrontation had silently begun, but for now, these petty troubles hadn't yet disturbed the survivors of the wasteland, who were still reveling in the joy and celebration of the victory in the Heaven's War.

Chu Guang was still on his visit to the islands in the southern sea.

Meanwhile, Camp 101 had officially launched the Space Elevator Project. The project's experts had already arrived in the southern sea by special plane and, accompanied by engineers from Vault 70, were surveying the waters near Coral City.

Before designing the entire base of the space elevator, they first had to finalize the site selection.

That way, when the Alliance's representative later presented the PPT at the Cohesion Council meeting to discuss with representatives of other survivor factions, it would seem "a little less like a joke."

And while Chu Guang was toiling for the survivors of the Alliance, his little players weren't idle either.

As per usual, after each expansion, the server would enter a relatively peaceful period of development.

This was the cycle belonging to the life-profession players.

After all, the combat-profession players had had their fill of fun, so it was time for the life-profession players to enjoy themselves as well—especially since development and construction were the main themes of *Wasteland OL*, a cheerful, casual raising game.

Most of the core settlements of the Alliance had already entered a bottleneck period in their growth; some players gradually turned their gaze toward the Brahman Province, while others looked to the Haiya Province, just conquered by the Sticky Commonwealth Allied Forces.

Of course, aside from those players with conventional thinking, *Wasteland OL* never lacked those with novel neural pathways.

While the majority of players were pondering how to keep pace with the version updates, a small minority had already begun to contemplate how to lead the trend of the version, stirring up trouble for themselves out of sheer boredom.

For instance, Brother Mosquito, who had only recently walked the red carpet alongside the Administrator, had set his sights on the Legion's 37th Myriad, which was digging furiously on the front lines.

On the ruins of Haibei City.

Gazing at the Vallant decurion before him, whose face was pitch black as if he had just crawled out of a coal mine, Mosquito politely handed him a cigarette and lit it.

“……Digging bit by bit with shovels like this is far too laborious—why not just buy a couple of excavators?”

The Vallant man flushed red, and after holding back for a long while, finally squeezed out a sentence.

“We have no money.”

“No money? That’s easy! Our excavators happen to be free!” Mosquito chuckled, warmly hooking his arm around the shoulder of the bewildered big-nosed man, and continued, “Just trade with your equipment—I’ll take a slight loss… How about one tank for one excavator?”