Chapter 963: The Enemy at the Gates

Chapter 963: The Army at the Gates

[Rat Plague?! Domestic and Feral Cats Lie Dead in Heaps, the Capital Overrun with Rodents! Second-in-Command of the Family Society, Sava, Calls Another Meeting, Urging the Family to Unite Once More and Declare War on the Rats of the Brahmin Province!

— *Survivor Daily*, Golden Port Edition]

[The Cat Ban Shows Early Results: People Must Eat First Before Feeding Cats. Survivors in the Capital Are Content, Thanking Zaid for Granting Us Warmth and Full Bellies.

Under Pressure from the Family Society, Mammoth Kingdom Leader Shawa Releases Five Hundred Undergraduate and Preparatory Hostages. The Children of the Capital Have All Returned Home Safely, Received by Patriarch Zaid! Let Us Welcome the Future Pillars of Society!

In Contrast, the Southern Legion’s Lackeys Who Fled to New Westport Live a Miserable Existence, Weeping and Wailing All Day Long—They Deserve No Less for Their Fate!

Additionally, Locust Plagues Have Broken Out in the Hundred Yue Strait, the Southern Seas, and the Death Coast, Causing Food Shortages, Spreading Pestilence, and Unleashing Mutant Horrors… Expected to Claim Millions of Lives! A Professor at the Capital University Analyzes That the Root Cause Is the Alliance’s Hostility Toward the Family Society, Leaving Local Wastelanders Without the Family’s Guidance or Assistance.

Let Us Observe Three Minutes of Silence for the Suffering Survivors of the Wasteland. We Will Come to Save Them, Sooner or Later.

— *Survivor Daily*, Capital Edition]

[First Beauty Pageant at Fries Port! Champion “Drunken Recluse Smiling at the Beauty” Turns Out to Be a Cross-Dressing Man?!

Surge in Incoming Population! Representatives from the Hundred Yue Strait Region Are Planning to Establish a Fourth Settlement! Public Vote Now Open!

This Month’s Most Popular Foods: Hotpot, Crab Roe Paste, Coconut Jelly, Ice Cream!

— *Survivor Daily*, Fries Port Edition]

[The Free State “Company” War Heats Up! Gang Members and Hound Special Forces Engage in Street Gunfights! At This Morning’s Meeting, Saren Twirled a Pen in His Right Hand, Perhaps Hinting That the Alliance’s Conservative Faction Can No Longer Resist the Temptation to Sneak In?!

The Brahmin Province Murder Contest Enters Round Two! Guryon, Who Ordered the Bombing of Lion City, Can Only Rank Third?!

(Illustration: Zaid and Shawa Arm-Wrestling, Crushing Tomatoes in Their Hands, While Guryon Stands in the Corner, Horrified)

General McCullen’s Opinion: He Refuses to Offer an Opinion.

— *Survivor Daily*, New Westport Edition]

…

The Great Rift Valley.

As guests from all directions gradually returned to their homes, this sacred site—the last ember of human civilization—once again fell into silence. And that certain frivolous old man finally became a little more serious.

In the empty small conference room.

The Chief, seated at the head of the obsidian table, flicked his index finger across the holographic screen before him. A gratified smile suddenly spread across his face.

“One survived. That’s not bad at all.”

Every person has their own “destiny,” or perhaps “historical mission.”

This destiny is not something any single individual can decide; it is the result of the same or different choices made by every person in the collective.

Though the Alliance’s administrators dismiss his theory as “fortune-telling,” he himself prefers to call it “civilization studies.”

Facing his own destiny, Abusek’s problem was that he could not let go, while Mayor Odo’s problem was that he could not take hold.

Now one has let go, and the other has taken hold. Their paths ahead are bright.

As for Shawa…

Though the Chief had chosen a relatively easy road for him, Shawa did not follow that wish. Instead, he opted for another solution hidden within the Chief’s riddles—

Total annihilation.

This is the hardest path.

He must not only inherit Rasi’s will but also open the door to slaughter that Rasi dared not touch.

The Chief suddenly thought of Reze, that young man always by Julius’s side.

They were the same kind of people—both burning themselves for the dreams of others…

The Chief shook his head and flicked his finger, closing the holographic window floating before him.

“What a sin…”

…

Abusek was not joking.

After leaving Golden Port, he actually went to Fries Port and registered a company, named Abu Aerospace, with its business focused on “aerospace-oriented plasma engine modification.”

Though the name sounded high-end, the actual work was not as complicated as it sounded.

Simply put, it meant putting aircraft engines onto spacecraft.

In the distant old era, plasma engines were first born in the aerospace field, and only after chemical engines were almost completely phased out did they make a reverse transfer to aviation.

What Abu Aerospace needed to do was simply return advanced plasma technology to where it originally belonged.

From the perspective of following historical trends, this business direction was actually quite sound, and it was likely that many large companies in the Alliance were already quietly working on it.

But for the Brahmin people, still busy with their internal squabbles, this endeavor was rather ahead of its time. After all, most “Valley People” still remembered them as feasting on railway tracks.

As for aerospace—

That seemed more like something survivors from Dawn City and Boulder City would do.

As the saying goes, shame inspires courage.

Though he had accepted his fate, Abusek still harbored a smoldering fire within.

He wanted to prove to all the other tribes of the wasteland that the Brahmin were not only capable of infighting—they could also do progressive things, even lead the world’s peoples!

Clearly, he was not alone in this thought.

When the news reached him, Asin—who had already decided to stop funding the Brahmin Province’s reform cause—immediately wrote a check for ten million silver coins and entrusted it to his confidant to deliver to Abusek.

That young rat-man was still as impulsive as ever, even though he had no idea what aerospace really meant.

Not only Asin, but some early Moonfolk who had made their fortunes in Fries Port also joined in.

Reform was unlikely; throwing money into that bottomless pit was no better than lighting a firecracker—at least it would leave their names in a few lines of this epic saga.

And so, this startup—with a registered capital of less than ten thousand silver coins and less than a month in existence—managed to gather nearly fifty million silver coins in just half a month, thanks to the support of Asin and a host of Moonfolk backers.

Abusek himself never expected that a fallen Grand Commander could still command such influence.

Grateful that so many did not despise him, he resolved in his heart to achieve something in the aerospace field.

Meanwhile, Abusek’s right-hand man—Internal Affairs Commissioner Wadiya—after moving his family from Brahmin State’s Wolf Prefecture to Golden Port, also embarked on a path similar to Abusek’s.

But unlike Abusek, he did not wait for the committee to dismiss him. Instead, he took the initiative to write a resignation letter and submitted it to the Brahmin State Embassy in Golden Port.

His war was over.

Unsure of what to do next, he thought it over and finally bought a boat ticket. After settling his family, he traveled alone to Fries Port to join his old leader, who was now in his “second startup.”

Abusek did not mind that his old intelligence subordinate’s expertise was a poor fit. He welcomed him with open arms and placed him in charge of the oversight department, responsible for risk control in classified projects and background checks on classified employees.

These tasks were required by the Alliance.

After all, trying to buy out the Alliance’s key technology for a few tens of millions of silver coins was a bit too fanciful.

Whether the technology was excavated from ruins or borrowed from allies, it was the property of all Alliance citizens.

Anyone can use these technologies, improve upon them, or even register their own patents based on the original technology, but only after a background check.

This investigation covers multiple areas such as the founder's background, funding sources, and application scenarios, and it is not conducted by economic departments but directly by the Praetorian Guard.

In addition, the Alliance's intelligence department will engage in long-term cooperation with the oversight departments of classified non-public enterprises to jointly eliminate potential risks of technology leaks.

As the former head of intelligence for the Bharat state during wartime, Vadia had come into contact with many members of the Alliance's Praetorian Guard through his work, and coordinating with them came naturally to him.

Such an impressive résumé being used as the head of oversight for a startup was undoubtedly overqualified, but Vadia felt no regret; instead, he was delighted to once again earn the esteem and trust of his old leader.

Though he had considered other jobs, only when beside Abusek did he feel that sense of ease, without having to tread carefully among clever people.

Perhaps that is charisma.

Or rather, the ability to make talented people willingly devote themselves to you...

...

Days passed, and soon it was February, with the season of spring blossoms in the northern hemisphere just around the corner.

The situation on the west coast of the Great Desert remained tense, but the intensity was far less than at the end of last year.

The Southern Legion's military strength was at its last gasp, both in manpower and materiel, having reached the point of exhaustion.

On the other hand, the Enterprise was growing more spirited with each battle, having increased its frontline forces from the initial two divisions to ten, with over a hundred thousand citizens from Ideal City directly participating in the ground war against the Southern Legion!

The last time the Enterprise launched a large-scale military operation was a century and a half ago, when mutants first escaped from the laboratory...

Facing the mechanized forces of the Enterprise and the successive assaults of the Alliance's various legions, the troops the Southern Legion sent to the front were like dry twigs thrown into a fire, unable to mount effective resistance, battered and bruised.

Not only on the battlefield, but also in the arena of public opinion.

Although the *Southern Legion Victory Gazette* was still racking its brains to weave lies of impending victory, as the lies were repeatedly exposed, even the Southern Legion's own soldiers no longer believed what the paper wrote.

And that was not all.

The Verant troops, who had always fought to the last even in the direst situations, finally began to surrender in organized units.

Most of these surrendering units were centuries.

They were either assigned impossible missions, had lost their commanders, or were given a rifle and thrown onto the battlefield.

Of course, these reasons might be secondary.

The most crucial factor was that the fanatical militarists had already burned themselves out in previous battles.

Those who remained were either child soldiers, citizens who had only received basic military training before being sent to the front, or foreigners who had no desire to die for the Legion.

Nearly three hundred thousand regulars and auxiliaries were surrounded by Enterprise forces in the northwest corner of the Great Desert, while the remaining hundred thousand or so troops were compressed near Avant City, shrinking their defenses toward the urban area.

The southern part of Batoia Province had opened its gates to the Alliance, with convoys of supplies traveling along the railways and roads at the edge of the Great Desert to the front lines in southern Batoia Province.

These included not only military supplies but also engineering machinery for clearing bunkers and minefields.

Such as large bulldozers and forklifts.

Eliminating the remnants of the Southern Legion was only the first step; afterward, they would undertake post-war reconstruction in the Batoia Province region.

Killing the beast alone does not eradicate barbarism.

They must also plant the seeds of civilization there, letting a new order replace the old.

On the outskirts of Avant City.

The Death Corps, having ridden trucks to the front, had already arrived at their combat positions.

Watching Debt Big Eyes step down from the truck with bags in both hands, the joking players fell silent and cast surprised glances at him.

"Holy shit?"

"How come you have so much luggage?"

"Damn, are you moving house?!"

Debt Big Eyes gave an embarrassed smile and hid the bags behind him.

"What are you talking about? They're just supplies—"

Before he could finish, Midnight with Umbrella without Knife, who had slipped behind him, mischievously unzipped one of the bags, and with a "whoosh," the contents spilled out like an avalanche.

"Holy shit! What the hell are you doing?!" Debt Big Eyes panicked at the sight of the scattered items and reached down to pick them up, but there were too many to handle at once.

"Sorry, sorry, bro, I was just joking. Why didn't you pack all this stuff..." Midnight with Umbrella without Knife quickly crouched to help him gather things, but then Construction Site Boy and Brick picked up a palm-sized box from the ground.

The packaging looked quite exquisite, with a bow on top that seemed carefully tied.

Construction Site Boy and Brick shook the box and looked at Big Eyes in confusion.

"...Chocolate? What are you doing with so much chocolate?"

Most of the other boxes were probably filled with chocolate or candy too; a rough count put them at over a hundred, no wonder the bag was bulging.

Debt Big Eyes's face turned as red as a monkey's ass, and he snatched the elegantly wrapped chocolate box, stammering out a lame excuse.

"Ahem! Isn't there a famine in Avant City? I read in the paper that a lot of people are starving, so I wanted to see if I could help... you know, just being charitable, you get it."

Seeing his poorly improvised excuse, his buddies burst out laughing.

"Pfft! 'Charitable,' huh."

"Tsk, that excuse... you might as well say you're worried your harem will go hungry."

"+1, if his motives were that pure, I'd eat a turd on the spot!"

"Holy shit! Can you guys not be so dirty?! I'm totally innocent!" Debt Big Eyes blushed and argued desperately, but no one believed him.

Just then, Construction Site Boy and Brick, still scavenging on the ground, looked up again and shook a bag in confusion.

"Then what's with the sanitary pads?"

Outlaw: "???"

Laplace: "Holy shit!"

Madam You Don't Want That Either: "Hahaha fuck! Never thought you were like this, Big Eyes!"

Watching the guys laughing their asses off, Roller Washing Machine helplessly rubbed his forehead.

"...You guys act like you've never met this guy before."

He just wanted to help homeless girls—what's wrong with saying it outright!

At worst, he could give his helmet to someone in need.

Unable to stand it any longer, Edge Paddling walked over and coughed.

"Even though the Southern Legion is cornered, don't underestimate our enemy. They're all cornered beasts now, and who knows what surprises the city has in store for us."

Laplace smiled at that.

"Perfect! That'll send us back to Dawn City!"

Outlaw: "Hahaha!"

I'm Responsible for Dying First: "You're a fucking genius!"

They are players.

Immortal spirits.

The "deadly agent" that would be fatal to ordinary men meant no more than a three-day wait for them.

They had fought all the way from Akale County in the Boro Province to this place, and not a single one had uttered a word of discouragement. Now that victory was at hand, they naturally had no reason to fear.

Bianyuan Huashui laughed along with the crowd, then turned his gaze toward the distant city of Avant.