Chapter 613: Surrender? Did I Declare War on Them?

Chapter 613: Surrender? Did I Declare War on Them?

The building standing in the thick fog slowly toppled, crashing onto the ruins like a block of tofu, sending fragments of stone flying hundreds of meters into the air, while dust swept up by the air currents was blown more than a kilometer away...

Staring blankly at the slowly collapsing building, Red Tapir’s eyes first flickered with disbelief, then gradually turned to fear.

After a long while, he squeezed out a sentence through gritted teeth.

“Damn it...”

The Champion Biological Research Institute...

The Nago Core in the underground research zone!

Years of the Church’s hard work!

These ignorant wastelanders actually blew it up!

The Nago fungus throughout the entire Jinhe River area had lost its most central heart, and the collapse of the Heavenly Kingdom was inevitable. They had no time to create a new mother nest for this land—that was not a project that could be completed in a short time.

Since the collapse of the Heavenly Kingdom was unavoidable, the Church could only abandon this diocese and return when the time was ripe.

The biological soldiers deployed in the city were retreating southward under the cover of gray fog, including Goliaths and some surviving bat-winged humans.

Most of them were mindless monsters synthesized from mutant infants, deformed from head to toe, but deformed just enough to be useful.

For the Church, aside from assisting in experiments, the other major use of the Qi tribe was to provide newborns that could be used as raw materials.

But now they had lost even that last use.

Even with the modified prosthetics supplied by the Church, the Qi tribe still couldn’t stop the Alliance’s advance. Almost all able-bodied warriors died on the front lines, leaving only the old, weak, sick, and disabled hiding in Jinhe River’s underground transit network.

Whether as soldiers or as breeding tools, they were no longer the most suitable choice, especially since many among them were the stubborn “Ancestral Faction.”

Though it was regrettable to lose this nearly perfect pastoral area, the Qi tribe had now lost even its last shred of value.

Yet Red Tapir’s heart was filled with resentment.

It wasn’t out of sympathy for his allies—he didn’t like those ugly green-skinned beasts at all, always treating them as nothing more than an “inconvenient but temporarily irreplaceable” tool.

What truly galled him was that for the eternal Heavenly Kingdom to descend upon this land, both the Church and the Inquisition had sacrificed too many people.

And yet, in the end, this was what they got...

He couldn’t accept it!

That traitor...

If it weren’t for Luo Qian disappearing just before the Heavenly Kingdom’s descent, they wouldn’t have lost so miserably!

If Luo Qian had attacked that airship the moment the Heavenly Kingdom descended, the Alliance would never have had the chance to hold out this long!

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, and Red Tapir nearly ground his teeth to dust.

Just as his emotions were about to peak, a voice he had heard somewhere before came from not far away.

“Do you think this is my fault?”

“Who?!”

Red Tapir spun around, only to see an old man radiating a faint golden light standing two steps behind him. His fierce eyes instantly narrowed into slits.

“...Luo Qian!”

Luo Qian looked at him calmly.

His ethereal gaze seemed to pass right through him, staring straight at the collapsed building in the distance.

After a long silence, he spoke slowly, as if talking to himself.

“Sometimes I wonder if there really is a deviation between ideals and reality... For the final plan to succeed, we did do some wrong things.”

“Perhaps we should have discussed it properly with our followers, asked for their opinions—at least asked if they truly wanted to go to the Heavenly Kingdom we envisioned. Otherwise, even if we stood at the end of the sea of suffering, they would unite and try to overthrow us by any means.”

Seeing Red Tapir already raising his gun, Luo Qian suddenly smiled, his voice tinged with self-mockery, and continued in a light tone.

“Go ahead, shoot.”

“If you can kill me, that might not be a bad thing.”

Thinking about it, that Administrator was indeed no ordinary man.

The moment he saw me, he saw through what I really am.

But ironically, these servants loyal to the Holy Domain knew nothing about it... They were the closest beings to the Holy Domain.

Red Tapir looked at him with contempt, spat, and kept his gun steady.

“Stop your fucking bullshit! The Holy Domain is just a chip in your brain—don’t think I don’t know! As long as I—”

“As long as you kill everyone implanted with the chip, as long as you take out every chip and crush it, the person ‘Luo Qian’ will disappear from this world... That’s what you think, right?”

Luo Qian looked at him with pity and continued.

“Unfortunately, I don’t even remember how many of me I’ve buried in this land. The real me died twenty years ago.”

All the pioneers who entered the Holy Domain were dead.

That was also the prerequisite for entering the Holy Domain.

To ensure the Torch’s will was carried out unwaveringly, they sacrificed themselves before sacrificing everyone else.

Seeing Red Tapir’s stunned expression, Luo Qian slowly left a meaningful remark.

“Every me is me, and every me is not me. I split the soul the Creator gave me into countless pieces, in exchange for time that doesn’t belong to me. The price is that I can never close my eyes—perhaps that is the Creator’s punishment for me.”

“But fortunately, at least in the end, I did one right thing.”

Red Tapir stared at him intently.

“...What thing?”

However, Luo Qian had no intention of telling him. He simply turned his back to him.

“You don’t need to know. It has nothing to do with you.”

“My mission is over. I can’t walk this road to the new world with you anymore. Tell the other pioneers for me.”

“We won’t see each other again.”

“Wait! Stop right there!” Seeing the figure about to vanish, Red Tapir roared at the back of his head.

But the old man paid him no heed. His figure was slowly fading, and his presence was disappearing along with it.

The look in his eyes gradually turned to madness. Red Tapir’s index finger trembled, and finally, he pulled the trigger.

“Bang—!”

The sharp gunshot echoed through the street.

But the one who fell was not the old man dissolving into a phantom, but his partner, Tang He—the sniper with a sparse crew cut and a cybernetic left eye.

The 9mm bullet entered through his right eye and exited through the back of his head, trailing a stream of blood and brain matter that splattered onto a broken shop window.

With a look of shock and frenzy, the man crashed heavily to the ground, as if he had never imagined being aimed at by his longtime partner, let alone that his partner would actually pull the trigger.

Having once had the left side of his head blown off by wastelanders, he now had the right side of his brain blown out by his teammate.

This time, there was nothing left at all.

Staring at Tang He lying motionless in a pool of blood, the Red Tapir’s expression shifted from shock to numbness, then from numbness to terror.

“No…”

“Tang He?!”

“It must… be a mistake! Yes! I remember now, it was that Luo Qian who took over your body… I, I just wanted to help you drive him out.”

His lips trembling, he stepped back, his face contorted, hands clutching his head as he let out a heart-wrenching scream.

“Aaaah!!”

Suddenly, it all came back to him.

The Sanctuary had never been on the ground from the start—only the chosen could see it. In other words, that guy hadn’t possessed his partner’s body; he was inside his head.

In a daze, he caught his reflection in a bloodstained shop window, but the face wasn’t his—it was Luo Qian’s, the one who had just vanished.

“I’LL KILL YOU!!!” he roared hoarsely, aiming the gun at his own chin, his breathing growing more frantic.

His face flushed a liverish red, and finally, steeling himself, he closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.

The bang nearly shattered his jaw, yet the bullet didn’t pierce his lower jaw—it grazed his cheek and flew into the sky.

“Heh… hahaha!”

He burst into laughter, firing his gun into the air, his hollow eyes filled with madness and distortion.

The gunfire drew the attention of those nearby.

He saw, at the end of the street, an armored vehicle with a protruding cannon barrel advancing toward him, flanked by a group of soldiers armed to the teeth.

Helmets obscured most of their faces, but he could tell that under every helmet was the face of Luo Qian.

“Hey…”

A chilling laugh escaped his lips as he raised his pistol toward the group at the street’s end. Just as he pulled the trigger, he seemed to see a flash of fire.

And then—

His consciousness plunged into an endless abyss…

…

“Another cyber-psycho found.”

Sitting in the turret of the armored vehicle, Mole watched the shattered corpse lying in the middle of the street and spoke succinctly into the earpiece.

“Old Na, go check it out.”

“Roger.”

Rising from beside the wheel, Irene shouldered her rifle and stepped forward.

Earlier, this guy standing in the middle of the road had been firing wildly into the sky, and they thought someone needed help.

But as soon as they approached, he aimed his gun at them, and then was mowed down in a burst of concentrated fire.

Looking at the bloody mess embedded in the exoskeleton, Irene clicked her tongue, crouched down to examine his belongings, and soon found a silver dog tag stained with blood.

Engraved on it were two inverted triangles—the symbol of the Torch.

On the back was also the emblem of the Inquisition.

“He’s an Executioner, and the other one should be too… They have Inquisition markings and dog tags with names and blood types, exoskeletons with optical camouflage modules, a sniper rifle, an assault rifle, two pistols with ammunition, EMP grenades, and so on… No disguised explosives found.”

Rising from beside the other guy who had been shot in the head, Irene continued over the comm channel.

“They seem to have had a falling out. That guy named Red Tapir first shot his comrade, then tried to kill himself but failed… Of course, that’s just my guess.”

Elf King Fugui clicked his tongue.

“Ridiculous.”

Suddenly recalling yesterday’s events, one of the nearby players spoke up.

“Hey, isn’t this the sniper we ran into before?”

Another player scratched the back of his head.

“Probably. I heard the Burning Legion brothers got the short end of the stick from them… But it’s really strange.”

“Strange?”

“What about the Goliaths? Those big guys… In terms of combat power, they’re way stronger than those winged freaks.”

Listening to the chatter on the comm channel, Mole thought for a moment and said,

“Probably gave up.”

Elf King Fugui chuckled.

“Just like that?”

“Yeah. Since the hive has been destroyed, this gray fog will probably dissipate soon.”

Mole looked up at the sky, where a ray of sunlight, stretched thin by the gray mist, had pierced through the thick cloud cover and was spilling over the ruins.

“Except for the Qi tribe… the Church seems to have no reason to keep going.”

Pausing for a moment, he glanced at Old Na, who was still rummaging through the corpse, and shouted,

“Drag the body onto the vehicle first; we’ll search it later. There’s still work ahead!”

The mutants from the Champion Biological Research Institute had all been wiped out, and the Torch Church had withdrawn from this area.

Now, it was time for those beasts hiding in the subway…

…

On the deck of the Steel Heart.

The Viper transport plane descended slowly, trailing a pale blue plasma plume.

Two ground crew members in exoskeletons jumped out of the cabin, carrying a square metal frame, and carefully placed it onto a trolley.

In the center of the metal frame was fixed a roughly spherical container, shaped like a droplet, about the size of a gas canister.

But what was stored inside wasn’t gas—it was helium-3 in a superfluid state!

Though it was just one neutron short, the technological sophistication of this stuff was leagues beyond that of ordinary liquid helium superfluids.

As everyone knew, shortly after successfully producing liquid helium, scientists discovered its superfluid properties.

But its isotope didn’t get the same treatment.

Because helium-3 lacks a neutron, it behaves like a fermion, obeying the Pauli exclusion principle and unable to cluster together.

For this reason, whether superfluid helium-3 existed was a long-standing unsolved puzzle in physics.

It wasn’t until later that people discovered that at sufficiently low temperatures, helium-3 could form Cooper pairs through the interaction of nuclear spins, which led to the 1996 Nobel Prize in Physics—David, Osheroff, Richardson, and others achieved helium-3 superfluidity in the lab at a temperature just two-thousandths of a degree above absolute zero.

Though it was unclear why these nuclear fuels were stored in a superfluid state, the world’s vast technological reserves had indeed reached an astonishing level compared to the players’ own world.

To store one liter of helium-3 superfluid, all you needed was a “gas canister” with a volume of about thirty to forty liters.

Even two people could carry it.

It was no exaggeration to say that the “helium-3 storage technology” contained in that single canister alone was an incredible gain for the fledgling Alliance.

Let alone the staggering quantity of nuclear fuel.

There were as many as a million such containers in the underground research zone’s warehouse, all stored on container-style shelves, with a total reserve of a thousand cubic meters!

Before that tower collapsed, these nuclear fuels had already been moved to a safe location.

Though it was unclear why the Torch hadn’t transferred this batch of fuel to the Haya Province, whatever their intentions, this fuel was now in the Alliance’s hands.

For a long time to come, the Alliance would have no need to worry about energy issues!

Besides the nuclear fuel, the players also recovered a batch of mechanical prosthetics and modification equipment from the Champion Bioresearch Institute.

Much of this was a legacy of the War Construction Committee.

Just as the Boulder City inherited the Boulder Military Industry from the Boulder City, the “Champion” Biopharmaceutical Research Institute, originally part of the Central Wartime Research Institute of the People’s Union, was also one of the legacies left by the War Construction Committee to Singularity City.

Unfortunately, they did not use that facility properly, and ultimately walked the path of self-destruction.

Ibes was very interested in these devices, which would be packed and sent to Boulder Military Industry for disassembly and reverse engineering.

Though it was regrettable that they hadn’t caught the researchers belonging to the Torch, Boulder City had experienced technical workers and engineers capable of uncovering the secrets hidden in those devices…

The deck of the Steel Heart was bustling with activity, and the bridge, the ship’s command tower, was equally busy.

Vanus and other officers were directing ground operations.

Chu Guang stood in his usual unobtrusive spot, gazing at the pale blue holographic window before him, listening to He Ya report the latest research progress of the Alliance’s Biological Research Institute.

“…The biotechnology the Torch possesses exceeds my original expectations. The techniques they control were not entirely taken from Vault 117. For instance, that biomass armor—some of its DNA fragments share similarities with the mutant slime mold.”

After hearing He Ya’s account, Chu Guang frowned slightly.

“I remember that Nago fruit is the same.”

“Yes,” He Ya nodded gently and continued, “Including that bat-winged mutant and the giant mutant called Goliath… large amounts of DNA fragments related to the mutant slime mold can be found in their chromosomes. The Nago fruit you mentioned goes without saying—from the Nago core to the fungal colony to the spores released by the mycelium, the entire system built by the Nago fruit is modeled after the mutant slime mold.”

She paused here, then spoke in an uncertain tone.

“It’s hard to imagine this is the result of twenty years of research… Could it be possible that those people obtained leftover technology from the Three Years War at some ancient battlefield or ruin in the south?”

Chu Guang’s mind stirred.

“You mean… the biotechnology of the colonial rebels?”

He Ya nodded solemnly.

“That’s what I think… though it’s just a guess.”

Chu Guang fell into thought.

Indeed, this possibility could not be ruled out.

In fact, it wasn’t just the Nago fruit related to the mutant slime mold; the same applied to the psychic interference technology used by the Torch Church.

The version they used was not the one from Vault 401, but rather a more powerful, wider-coverage upgraded model.

If he remembered correctly, the psychic interference device was a joint research project between the Third Ecological Park of Clearwater City above Vault 401 and the colonial research institution, aiming to find an “alternative to the infrasound fence.”

Due to a later scandal, research on the psychic interference device was halted by the review agency in 2113.

However, the information left in Vault 401 did not mention whether the project was completely terminated or merely discontinued on the home planet while the colonies continued to search for “efficient alternatives to the infrasound fence” without any oversight.

If it was the latter…

This psychic interference device might have already been applied militarily.

Perhaps even the mutant slime mold hive, as a biological weapon, was itself a hive organism born from the psychic interference field?

The more Chu Guang thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

“…The source of the Torch Church’s technology is worth digging into. I’ll have my subordinates pay attention. If you find any new leads, please tell me immediately.”

“Mm, leave it to me… Oh, by the way.” Just as she was about to end the communication, He Ya suddenly remembered something and continued, “What’s the deal with the person you sent to Vault 79?”

When she asked about Yule, Chu Guang thought for a moment and said casually,

“That guy is a former researcher at the ‘Champion’ Pharmaceutical Research Institute. He participated in the development of anti-radiation agents and decontamination agents.”

The Great Deer God would probably be interested in him, since even the coffee and cookies in Vault 79 were of the Champion brand.

Many people there were likely fans of the Champion Group; it might enjoy chatting with him about the past.

He Ya was stunned, looking at him incredulously.

“You actually managed to find talent like that.”

Chu Guang smiled faintly.

“To be precise, he’s a war criminal. If he doesn’t make any major contributions, he’ll spend the rest of his life in Vault 79. I’ll have to trouble you to keep an eye on him.”

He Ya nodded solemnly.

“I’ll be vigilant.”

After the communication ended, Chu Guang turned off the holographic device and looked out the floor-to-ceiling window at the mist-covered land.

With the fall of the pseudo-hive, the war in Jinhe City had come to an end.

Next came cleaning up the battlefield and tidying up the mess, as well as considering how to handle Haya Province, which had entered its fourth stage.

But before that, the Alliance still had an impending “wave” to deal with. Tomorrow, he planned to sail the Steel Heart back to Dawn City.

As for Jinhe City…

Leaving it to Frost and the Kangmao Group behind it should be fine.

Chu Guang’s expectations for it were low—just hold out long enough for the Alliance to free itself from its own affairs.

At that moment, he heard the sound of a door opening and footsteps behind him.

An officer walked up to him, stood at attention, and saluted with his right fist against his left chest.

“Report!”

Chu Guang turned around and looked at him.

“What is it?”

“A mutant claiming to be a priest of the Qi tribe wishes to discuss surrender with you. It says it is willing to pledge loyalty to the Alliance.”

“Surrender?”

Chewing on the word with amusement, Chu Guang gave the officer a cold glance.

“Did I declare war on them?”

Though those creatures were natural laborers, after seeing that “ranch,” he had lost all interest in reforming them.

The very fact that such things still breathed was a mistake.

He didn’t care whether the remaining mutants were war hawks or doves; wiping them out completely would be better for the Alliance and the world.

The officer was taken aback for a moment, then immediately understood the look in the Administrator’s eyes. He saluted solemnly.

“Yes, sir!”