Chapter 1044: It's Time to End This

Chapter 1044: Time to End This

The conference room fell into dead silence.

A myriad of gazes, each with a different expression, shot toward the man rising from the conference table.

Director Feng’s face first registered shock, then shifted to anger, and finally a hint of wariness crept into his eyes.

Guixu was the polar opposite.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, a barely perceptible glint of murder flashing in his pupils.

He recognized that face.

That man was named Malik, captain of the Desert Scorpion special forces unit, suspended months ago for a failed operation that caused severe losses.

It happened to coincide with the Enlightenment Society’s “business contraction phase,” with no demand for external military action, so the Desert Scorpion unit was never rebuilt, and this man had been on standby in Shelter 13 ever since.

If it weren’t for the fact that the Celestial Organization’s descending android high-ups were increasingly usurping the power that rightfully belonged to him, leaving him with few usable hands, he would never have bothered to promote this fellow.

Guixu never expected that this dog he had elevated would suddenly go mad and bite the hand that fed him.

Before he could even make a move, the Celestial representative had already stood up with a dark face.

“What do you mean by that?”

A pair of electronic eyes flickered with a chilling red glow.

The android codenamed “Tianlei” stared unblinkingly at “Malik,” making no effort to conceal its blatant murderous intent.

Facing that gaze full of killing intent, Zhuang Lan, disguised as Malik, showed not a trace of panic.

This emotionless hunk of iron probably had only this murderous intent left as its most genuine thing.

She had no doubt.

After seizing the entire world, these bastards would immediately turn their guns and continue the purification in an even more thorough manner, until not a single heretic in their eyes remained.

Without answering the android’s question, Zhuang Lan didn’t even glance at it. Instead, she swept her eyes over the faces around the conference table—faces full of shock and uncertainty—and spoke in a calm tone.

“You’ve been sealed in here too long. You have no idea what’s been happening outside.”

“Just a few months ago, the Alliance seized control of the Orion missile cruiser. A hundred thousand neutron torpedoes are now in the hands of the various survivor factions.”

“The game is over.”

“Outside the shelter gates, the survivors have united. No matter which direction you attack, you’ll be surrounded and crushed from all sides at the first moment.”

“The divine punishment may indeed fall, but it will never fall on anyone’s head except yours—”

“Shut up!”

A hysterical roar cut off her words.

Zhuang Lan looked at the man. Director Feng of Shelter 13 was panting heavily, his bloodshot eyes fixed on her with a death grip.

That was a hatred that went straight to the bone.

As if he wished he could flay the skin off the “Malik” shell she wore.

Before Guixu or Tianqi could even speak, he exploded like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

“Utter nonsense! The Orion is a legacy of the Human Federation Aerospace Force! Even if those survivors somehow crawled aboard, they could never obtain pilot authorization! Not to mention that starship is already in our hands—they don’t even have a chance to get close!”

Though the hysterical roar carried a hint of incoherence, it still had some basic logic.

The survivors seated at the conference table exchanged glances, and the panic that had been written in their eyes faded a little.

Indeed—

The Orion was a commissioned warship of the Human Federation Aerospace Force.

Even if the Human Federation no longer existed, it wasn’t as if a few random scavengers could just climb aboard and pick up that piece of trash.

The Lagrange point space station was still operational.

Only a regime recognized by the Aerospace Force could lawfully inherit what once belonged to the Human Federation.

These wastelanders living outside the shelters were nothing but usurpers.

Watching the whispering shelter residents and that hysterical director, Zhuang Lan’s eyes held a trace of pity, and also a hint of contempt.

These people had long forgotten their original vows.

They were born in a paradise like the shelter not because of some inherent right, but because two hundred years ago, a group of nobler souls chose to face hell head-on, leaving the hope of survival to those cowering in the shelter.

Their fathers had once solemnly promised to carry forward the spirits of the dead, to rebuild a home for humanity on the barren wasteland, and to treat the children living in hell as their own.

And now, their children had undoubtedly betrayed that promise.

Their solution to problems was to kill both the problem and the people with the problem.

Perhaps—

The suffering they endured was also part of their retribution.

Just like the light that shone on them.

Both existed simultaneously.

A glimmer of understanding slowly rose in Zhuang Lan’s heart, and she finally fully grasped why that person had lent her freedom.

It was indeed a redemption that only she—or rather, the shelter residents themselves—could accomplish.

Her dry lips moved, and she spoke slowly.

“…That is the truth, and it happened months ago.”

Watching that hysterical face gradually become tinged with fear and despair, Zhuang Lan continued in a calm voice.

“Months ago, I too was puzzled—why would the Orion grant authorization to those wastelanders, to those civilians… But now, there isn’t a shred of doubt left in my heart. Their choice was the most correct one.”

The air was still, as if frozen solid.

Director Feng stared at her, utterly lost, then cast a desperate glance at Guixu, seeking an answer.

His eyes seemed to say—“Tell me this isn’t true.”

The latter sighed with a troubled expression, about to say something, but was stopped by a look from Tianqi.

There was no need anymore.

In fact, there was no need for “Malik” to come out and expose it. Rumors of the Orion’s fall had been circulating for months; now it was just breaking the last layer of paper.

Zhuang Lan glanced at Guixu, who was sneering, then at the android representative staring at him with icy eyes, and immediately understood their intent.

They had already stopped pretending—and had been like that long before this meeting began.

Indeed.

With the combined forces of the Enlightenment Society and the Celestials gathered in Shelter 13, while insufficient to fight the survivor factions on the surface, they could still handle the unruly residents inside the shelter without much trouble.

The undisguised expression was almost blatant—

Say what you will.

I’m laying my cards on the table.

So be it.

This act was already in its final scene.

Without exposing their true faces, Zhuang Lan turned her gaze back to Director Feng and the few shelter residents sitting beside him who still clung to hope, speaking in an icy voice.

"You pin your hopes on a pack of butchers, expecting them to swiftly kill everyone who opposes you and those who disagree with you, then pretend nothing happened—as if the original problems would be solved and a beautiful utopia would arrive on its own—"

"What a childish delusion."

"What makes you think a blade stained with blood since its birth will one day suddenly be used to peel fruit? What makes you think you are the one-in-a-million lucky ones, rather than becoming the next problem?"

"The reckoning will come soon, whether at the Lagrange point space station or here."

"Wake up—this is your last chance."

Having said these final words, Zhuang Lan stopped speaking, leaving time for those seated at the conference table.

Yet the result was disappointing.

Even at the final moment when the dagger was revealed, she saw no one stand up to repent for their momentary folly or speak a word in her defense.

They were not truly unable to wake up—they simply refused to.

These were the so-called noble bloodlines, sheltered by the fading glory of their fathers, long accustomed to peace on the wasteland.

They would rather bear the cost of their mistakes than admit their existence.

Watching those evasive glances and the shelter director who seemed to have lost his soul, Zhuang Lan's eyes finally filled with utter disappointment.

And just then, applause suddenly rang out in the silent meeting room.

The crisp clapping sounded less like hands striking together and more like slaps across faces.

Zhuang Lan followed the sound and saw that it was not any of the survivors present, but rather Tianqi, who had been watching coldly all along.

"Well said, but meaningless."

As all eyes turned to him, he smiled coldly, lowered his clapping hands, and no longer concealed the bone-deep chill in his crimson eyes.

"I think the same as you—these creatures living in shelters don't deserve to call themselves heirs of the Prosperity Era. They've been waiting from start to finish for us to hand them victory. If you ask me... they're even worse than the wastelanders outside."

"How—how can you say that about us?" Director Feng stared at him, a trace of fear in his pupils.

The moment he opened his mouth, a loud "Bang!" pierced through the conference table and struck his knee.

Losing balance, Feng Zhiheng's head slammed onto the table. His face twisted in pain as he curled up on the floor, half his trousers instantly stained red.

That shot had probably hit an artery.

Watching the director fall, the room erupted in uproar. Even Guixu, who had prepared for a confrontation, looked stunned, not expecting the Celestials to act so decisively.

The shooter was the android guard standing at the meeting room door.

After firing, he immediately swung the butt of his gun, knocking down his human colleague beside him, who looked shocked, and confiscated the latter's weapon.

Then he swiftly aimed at Zhuang Lan, who stood still, waiting only for Tianqi's command to pull the trigger without hesitation and riddle her with bullets.

In previous security protocol upgrades, the Enlightened Society had already gained control of Vault 13's security system, placing it under the Lagrange point space station's command.

That was why Guixu had never taken the shelter director seriously—

The incomplete administrator privileges in that man's hands were merely a nuisance to the Enlightened Society.

"Who allowed you to stand and speak to me, you vermin?"

Looking down at Director Feng writhing in agony under the conference table, Tianqi's lips curled into a cold smirk. His restless intellect plug finally felt a measure of calm.

Indeed—

Dead organisms were good organisms.

Their only use was to turn into pulpy organic veins, supplying the raw materials needed for flexible components.

Though pursuing higher evolution was his and the Torch Church's lifelong goal, seeing this ugly sight, he suddenly felt less eager to return to flesh and blood.

They had already completed higher evolution long ago.

What they were now was the best.

Feeling the murderous intent spreading around, Guixu suddenly felt a chill on his neck.

To hide his discomfort, he cleared his throat lightly, stood up, straightened his collar with both hands, and looked at the survivors trembling in the corner.

"Alright, I wanted to talk to you politely... but you forced my hand."

With that, he strolled leisurely over to "Malik," sizing him up with his eyes.

"You're not Malik... let me guess who you are."

Zhuang Lan sneered and spoke in a cold voice.

"No need to guess. My name is Zhuang Lan, from Vault 68."

A look of surprise crossed Guixu's face.

"Zhuang Lan..."

The name sounded familiar. It took him a while to finally remember who she was.

She was the spy he had sent to Vault 0 to steal the Torch Project original—a clown who had botched the job.

She hadn't killed the key person, only a minor Valiant officer.

Later, she was caught by the Alliance. He thought she was dead, but here she was, alive.

Looking at this unexpected acquaintance, Guixu couldn't help but laugh.

"I see—the Alliance didn't execute you, hahaha... but speaking of which, how did you end up looking like this?"

Watching the chairman laugh heartily, Zhuang Lan replied with a faint, ambiguous smile.

"Aren't disguise and camouflage your favorite tricks? Why is it that when the same trick is used on you, you can't see through it?"

Guixu's smile cooled.

"Is this a holographic projection?"

"Yes."

Zhuang Lan nodded bluntly in acknowledgment, then stopped pretending and deactivated her optical camouflage.

"But not entirely."

She had indeed undergone a full set of modification surgeries, even installing organs she didn't originally have.

As for the holographic disguise, it concealed something else—

Pale blue ripples spread outward.

Within the transparent waves, a silver-gray exoskeleton suddenly materialized.

The moment he saw that exoskeleton, Guixu's smile froze on his face.

How did this thing get into the venue?

Could it be—

She had an inside accomplice?!

But even with an accomplice, how did she fool the androids?!

He had no time to think before Zhuang Lan seized him by the throat, hoisting him up like a chick, this coward who had been playing tricks from the shadows.

"I will never forget what happened at Shelter 68 that day, and everything you did to win our trust. If it weren't for the bigger picture, I would have killed you long ago."

A bone-deep murderous intent seeped through her tactical helmet as her right hand tightened slightly.

"Go repent in hell, you scum."

It all happened so suddenly that no one had time to react.

Gui Xu looked desperately to his Celestial allies, but they watched impassively, their cold gazes like those of spectators enjoying two crickets tearing each other apart.

He was utterly despairing.

So this was it—from start to finish, they had only been using them.

Of course, there was nothing to criticize about that.

The alliance between the Enlightenment Society and the Celestials was itself a mutual exploitation; he had harbored the same thought from the very first contact, even planning when to kick these iron lumps aside.

But what he hadn't expected was that before the game was even over, he had already lost his value in their eyes...

They no longer needed him.

His heart turned to ash in his desolation; amidst the agony of suffocation, his fading consciousness slowly sank into a bottomless sea...

Zhuang Lan did not kill him, only knocked him unconscious, while implanting a nanoscale transmitter in his body to ensure he could be found no matter where he fled to the ends of the earth.

This man was not only her enemy but also one of the primary war criminals who had sparked the entire crisis.

Dying here would be too easy for him.

He should stand trial in court, then be hanged on a pillar of shame.

Apocalypse clearly saw that he was not dead.

But he showed little concern for the fate of an organism that had lost its utility, merely casting a cold, mocking remark at Zhuang Lan as she faced him.

"What, taking him hostage?"

"I never thought of that, and it would mean nothing to you anyway."

She rolled her neck, then unclipped two curved blades from her exoskeleton.

Those were combat knives forged from ceramic steel, more than enough to deal with a few iron lumps.

"Let's settle this, you tin can that apes a man. Let me see how much rust is in your head."

"Heh, I've been waiting for you to say that, organism."

A cruel smile spread across Apocalypse's face, his scarlet pupils blazing with torch-like murderous intent.

"Kill her!"

Gunfire erupted instantly, a hail of bullets rushing toward Zhuang Lan like a storm.

In a flash, she vaulted over the conference table, using the curved spine of her blade to flip a chair and hurl it viciously toward the doorway.

The chair struck the rifle of the guard at the door squarely, and the chattering gunfire spiraled out of control, raking across a corner of the meeting room.

"Ahhh—!"

Screams and cries of agony rose in waves; the attendees, already crouched with heads covered, shrank even lower, wishing they could squeeze into the cracks in the walls.

No one paid any attention to Gui Xu, who lay unconscious in the corner.

Whether residents of Shelter 13 or those from other shelters who had joined the Enlightenment Society, everyone was now like ants on a hot pan.

At the same time, steadying herself on the far side of the table, Zhuang Lan swung her blade and cut down a bionic man trying to draw a gun from his coat. She then released the hilt, snatched the half-drawn pistol from a cascade of sparks, and emptied the magazine toward the doorway!

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The bionic security guard, who had just regained his footing, took ten shots to the chest; his control components and metal casing shattered into fragments, and he fell to the ground without a sound.

No magazine change.

Zhuang Lan tossed the pistol back into the chest of the bionic man she had skewered, pulled out the curved blade embedded in his torso, and fixed her sharp gaze on Apocalypse.

He still watched her impassively, a sneer on his face without a trace of concern.

"Nice moves, but pointless. Do you think you alone can turn the tide?"

Heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor, drawing closer to the meeting room door.

A swarm of guards was rushing toward them.

They were bionic soldiers authorized by the Lagrange Point space station!

Flicking the two curved blades in her hands, Zhuang Lan, through her exoskeleton's tactical helmet, returned a similar sneer.

"Who told you I was alone?"