Chapter 786: Landing on the Death Coast!

Chapter 786: Landing on the Death Coast!

“It seems quite a few things have been happening on the wasteland lately… in places we don’t know about.”

Inside the captain’s quarters of the Steel Heart.

After listening to the recording sent by Fang Chang, a fatherly smile spread across Chu Guang’s face, though his handsome, youthful features showed no sign of age.

“Indeed…”

Perched on Chu Guang’s right shoulder, Xiao Qi gently swung her legs, resting her cheeks on her hands as she continued in a leisurely tone.

“…Feels like it won’t be long before Master can retire and spend all his time with Xiao Qi.”

“Hahaha.”

Chu Guang laughed cheerfully, casually dismissing the holographic interface before him and teasing the little one sitting on his shoulder.

“Retirement for me? That’s still a long way off… though living a retired life ahead of schedule might not take too long.”

To be honest, when he first recruited those folks, he never imagined they’d be this capable—sometimes even anticipating his own anticipations.

Though the forums were never short of conspiracy theorists spouting nonsense like “only dragons among men, reincarnated war gods, or dragon gods’ live-in sons-in-law” could get a helmet, the truth was that anyone who wasn’t too unhinged had a chance to draw one.

Compared to the big shots already successful in reality, he preferred giving ordinary people a chance to start a second life.

After all, what debt of gratitude could compare to the “grace of rebirth”?

Even from the perspective of “brand loyalty” alone, players selected through this mechanism were more inclined to become “guardians of order” in the virtual community of Wasteland Online, rather than disruptors of the existing order.

And that was enough.

The wasteland didn’t lack geniuses—it lacked “normal people.”

He never expected to use a bunch of brilliant minds to create a flawless utopia out of thin air; as long as his little players could handle their tasks within their capabilities, that was fine.

But though his demands on the players weren’t high, they consistently exceeded his expectations.

Chu Guang couldn’t help but marvel—perhaps soon, he, as the faction’s boss, might not even need to make an appearance.

The clever little players had not only learned to update the game content themselves but had even started designing “game rules” for the NPCs.

Just then, a communication request from the Alliance’s General Staff popped up in the upper right corner of the holographic screen.

Seeing the incoming call, Xiao Qi let out a soft “heave-ho,” hopped down from Chu Guang’s shoulder, and settled back onto the pen holder at the corner of the desk.

Without hesitation, Chu Guang extended his index finger to select the connect button, and pale blue holographic beams quickly wove together in the air, forming a half-length image of Old Bai.

He was still wearing that “Dragoon” power armor, with an XB-1 “Howler” bolter slung over his shoulder, and behind him was the landing craft’s cabin.

With a solemn gaze fixed on Chu Guang, Old Bai, in full military regalia, planted the bolter at his side and struck his chest plate with his right fist in a military salute.

“…Respected Administrator, the southern forces are assembled! At your command, we can take the coastline of Haiya Province at any time!”

The plan and operation codename for the landing had been decided long ago; Chu Guang had reviewed it a month prior and signed his name.

And before today, the players stationed on the Northern Island had rehearsed the upcoming battle countless times.

Probably thinking it might make it into the game’s promotional video, Old Bai was putting on quite a show, even making a special call just before the start.

Not one to brush off his seriousness, Chu Guang composed his expression and responded gravely to the anticipation in those eyes.

“Excellent! I can already see victory in your eyes. The people of the Alliance await your triumphant return—do not disappoint their hopes!”

“Action!”

With eyes blazing as he met that commanding gaze, Old Bai stood at attention, sharply closing his helmet’s visor and goggles.

That was the sign of the power armor entering combat mode—

“Sir!”

…

On the other side, in the hall bathed in holy light, a circular meeting room held thirteen chairs of extraordinary design.

Yet only ten people sat at the conference table.

The three absent were Luo Qian, the “Beast King,” and the “Human Emperor,” who was commanding operations on the northern front of Haiya Province.

At the center of the table stood a phantom, its dark gray robe starkly out of place among the surrounding white robes.

Facing those scrutinizing gazes, Alzu felt his scalp tingle.

The situation now was entirely different from when he stood here a year ago.

Back then, Luo Qian had just been defeated, the Jinhe City diocese had fallen, and even the Forerunners themselves doubted whether they had taken the wrong path. That was why he could stand here confidently and propose the “Second Sanctum” concept.

Not only did the Forerunners present lack the conviction to refute him, but the Saint Child also gave him enough trust and support, entrusting the southern sea diocese entirely to his management.

During that time, he and Charlas worked together to produce quite a few good things, like arming mutants with technology held by southern sea survivors.

These were his achievements, and even if the southern sea diocese later performed terribly, no one could deny his contributions to the Torch Church.

But that was precisely the problem.

The southern sea diocese’s performance was so disastrous that it overshadowed all his accomplishments.

With Charlas’s defeat and the Northern Island’s occupation by the Alliance, the Torch Church had completely lost the opportunity to expand southward.

Now they were like a cricket trapped in a cage, surrounded on all sides by those who wanted to send them to the gallows…

Facing those questioning eyes, Alzu swallowed hard and forced himself to speak.

“The southern sea is no longer reliable… Our brainwashing doesn’t work on the locals.”

Trying to justify his failure, he continued rapidly.

“They’re completely different from the survivors of Haiya Province or even Jinchuan Province. The wasteland there ended too long ago. The locals aren’t classic wastelanders—they’re residents of Vault 70… That’s not what we initially assumed.”

It wasn’t just ineffective.

He had even been turned around and used by a certain destroyer captain, feeding Charlas false intelligence.

Those fishermen were far more cunning than he imagined, toying with him like a raken in the sea.

“…But we haven’t lost yet. We’ll just have to shelve the plan to expand Nago mycelium into the ocean.”

Taking a deep breath, Alzu looked at the Forerunners around him and continued solemnly.

“What about heading west? Since taking Coral City is no longer feasible in the short term… I suggest we consider a strategic shift westward.”

With that, he lightly waved his index finger, spreading a map before him and pointing to the location of the Bolo Province.

“This land borders Silver Moon Bay. Across a sea lies the eastern part of the Great Desert. Following the equator straight through takes you to the center of the old world, the ruins of the space elevator… They say a group calling themselves the Enlightenment Society is active there. Like us, they’ve explored clues related to the Torch Project. They should understand our situation.”

“Though we have fundamental disagreements, if we can make contact, at least we won’t have to face the pressure of the Coalition alone.”

“Moreover, Bolo Province has a massive population of survivors. They may be too dull to help with our research technically, but as a breeding ground for mutants, they’ll do fine. So…”

Alzu took another deep breath, scanning the Forerunners seated at the table.

“…I believe it would be a good choice.”

The meeting room fell silent for a while, not a sound to be heard.

If he hadn’t known that these Forerunners didn’t need sleep, he might have thought the old fogies had dozed off.

The first to break the silence was the Saint Child, seated at the head of the table.

That person let out a sigh and gently shook his head.

"...It's useless."

Alzu was stunned.

His Adam's apple moved, and he spoke with an anxious expression.

"How can it be useless—"

"Because the plan you're talking about was already discussed a long time ago."

Cutting him off with an unquestionable tone, the Saint extended his index finger and lightly tapped it in the air. A series of pale blue beams stretched forward, and in a few breaths, they outlined the entire topography of the Bharata Province—and moreover, the topography from the Wasteland Era.

This map was far more detailed than the miniature one floating before Alzu; one could even see the mountains and rivers on the land.

Clearly, the Apostle of the Torch had been there and reached this conclusion after a meticulous investigation.

Looking at the Apostle frozen in place, the Saint continued in a calm voice.

"About a dozen years ago, we considered starting from the Bharata Province, which the Post-War Reconstruction Committee had not interfered with."

"It has a larger area than the Haiya Province and more wastelanders living in chaos... and most importantly, it's far from the sight of the Corporation, the Academy, and the Great Rift Valley. Though there's a risk of being targeted by the Legion, it's unlikely they'd strike at us. And even if they wanted to, they'd have to cross the Great Desert; if we actually clashed, they might not be our match."

"Then why?" Alzu looked at the Saint, asking urgently. "Why didn't we go there?"

If it were there, the Academy would never have spotted them so quickly! They might not have been discovered until they expanded into the Luoxia Province!

Of course, that might have led to other variables, but compared to the current situation, it was nothing.

Facing Alzu's confusion, the Saint's voice carried a rare hint of helplessness.

"Because... of the Red Soil."

Red Soil?

Alzu was stunned.

What did that have to do with Red Soil?!

But just as he thought this, he suddenly came to his senses.

Could it be—

As if confirming his guess, the Saint gently clenched his right hand into a fist.

The map of Bharata Province floating before him crumpled like a piece of paper, turning into a clump of red earth.

"Bharata Province has a special kind of soil—or rather, a fungus attached to the soil. It has almost no effect on ordinary organisms, but it drains the soil of nutrients and prevents all other microorganisms from growing in it... such as tetanus bacilli, botulinum, and so on. Like animal remains buried in the red soil, they are digested by it."

The absence of other harmful bacteria or viruses is also one of the reasons why Red Soil can be directly consumed.

After all, normally, people can't eat soil not just because it's indigestible, but largely because the harmful substances in the soil could poison or even kill them.

The wonder of Red Soil lies in the fact that while accumulating a small amount of nutrients, it kills most harmful substances.

In other words, if Naguo encountered this stuff, it would most likely be devoured by the Red Soil and turned into new Red Soil.

Alzu stared at the Saint in shock, his Adam's apple bobbing as he forced out a sentence.

"This... how is it possible? That garbage-like thing can actually counter the results we've spent over a decade researching?"

"Yet it is the truth."

Looking at those shocked pupils, the Saint sighed softly.

"And don't underestimate that thing. It was a creation of scholars from the Age of Prosperity, completed in the early Wasteland Era. You know how powerful those scholars were; Singularity-level technology was something they once almost touched but ultimately failed to reach."

The Apostle named Yule, captured by the Alliance and imprisoned somewhere in the Hegu Province, was a scholar from the Age of Prosperity.

The anti-radiation and de-radiation agents he completed in the early Wasteland Era remain the 'economically optimal solution' for eliminating radiation damage even now, two hundred years later.

"...According to our experimental results, Naguo mycelium will be devoured by the Red Soil just like the corpses and feces buried in it. Unless we can find a technical way to make the Naguo mycelium consume the Red Soil, the rapidly expanding mycelium will only become a breeding ground for the Red Soil, allowing it to spread like weeds across the grasslands of Bharata Province."

He paused, then continued.

"This goes against our philosophy and is also meaningless."

The philosophy of the Torch Church is to elevate humanity to a higher existence, not to turn it into a pile of edible 'excrement.'

Thus, they ultimately abandoned the plan to enter Bharata Province and chose the relatively moderate Haiya Province as the first stop for the Kingdom of Heaven's descent.

Though it was clear that General Rowell could not have known what would happen two hundred years later, he had inadvertently saved the survivors of Bharata Province once again.

Alzu swallowed hard and spoke with difficulty.

"...What if we remove the Red Soil manually first?"

If they just removed the Red Soil before planting Naguo—

"That would be the most foolish act of this century."

The Saint cut him off without hesitation and continued.

"That stuff can only be left to slowly disappear naturally. We tried for years and found no biological solution."

In fact, even if they found one now, it would be meaningless.

Starting anew in Bharata Province under the watchful eyes of various factions would be no less difficult than holding out against the siege of the Sticky Collective.

This was not just his opinion; the remaining nine Pioneers at the table shared the same thought.

But upon hearing his reply, despair crept onto Alzu's face.

Noticing his expression, the Saint frowned slightly.

"What happened?"

Alzu was silent for a long moment, then a bitter expression appeared on his face.

"The Alliance's forces are gathering on the northern island of the Southern Sea. I'm worried—"

Before he could finish, his words suddenly halted. He seemed to drop out of the meeting, and even his ethereal figure flickered unsteadily.

Seeing this sudden change in him, the faces around the conference table showed surprise, unsure of what was happening.

"Is it a chip malfunction?"

"What is Alzu doing!"

"Can't he find a place with better signal for such an important meeting!"

"That's why I said keeping a mortal body is really troublesome..."

Murmurs spread across the table.

Watching Alzu, who had not reconnected for a long time, the faces of the Pioneers showed displeasure.

This guy was taking too long!

The Saint, seated at the head of the table, frowned slightly, a hint of unease flickering in his ethereal eyes.

Normally, he could sense the presence of every chip.

But just now, he suddenly felt that Alzu was no longer there...

Above the Haiya Province, an orange-red light pierced the sky like a sword.

With a sudden explosive crack, a blinding white light flashed, and a wide-area electromagnetic pulse instantly enveloped the tens of thousands of square kilometers below.

"Ooh...?"

The blue-skinned mutants lingering along the coastline stopped what they were doing and lifted their ugly heads.

Something seemed to have exploded above them, but it had no effect on them at all, leaving all the mutants with bewildered expressions on their faces.

What exactly had happened?

On the other side, Alzu, seated deep within an underground facility not far from the coastline, abruptly opened his eyes, a flicker of shock and uncertainty rising in his murky pupils.

EMP!

The information transmission capacity of bionic chips was limited, and coupled with the peculiarity of the material itself, they were hardly affected by a wide-area electromagnetic pulse.

However, bionic chips were not everything in the Sanctuary; besides them, there were also signal base stations.

Only when the distance was short could chips connect directly "point-to-point" to form a distributed network, such as when all chip implanters were in the same settlement.

But once the physical distance stretched to over a dozen kilometers, signal base stations had to be used to achieve "domain-to-domain" connections.

This was a matter determined by the physical layer.

At the same time, communication components that frequently transmitted and received electromagnetic wave information were far more susceptible to electromagnetic pulses than information processing components.

Especially when the EMP strike occurred, Alzu happened to be in a meeting of the Sanctuary Council. To link all chips together and minimize information blind spots, almost all signal base stations were turned on.

That single EMP had silenced him!

And he was currently inside an underground facility, relying on signal repeaters to connect to the chip clusters outside.

Even though the wired sections were still intact, the wireless sections were almost entirely wiped out...

This was likely no longer a tactical-level weapon but a strategic-level strike.

"Damn... of all times!"

Realizing the severity of the problem, cold sweat broke out on Alzu's forehead. He abruptly stood up, strode through the narrow, pitch-black corridor, and hurriedly burst into a monitoring room.

The screen covering the entire wall was divided into hundreds of large and small squares, and nearly ninety percent of them were flickering with snowy static.

The staff sitting beside the monitoring terminal looked at Alzu with trepidation.

"...I don't know what just happened, but it suddenly turned out like this?"

Alzu grabbed him by the collar, staring intently into his eyes.

"Before that? Did the surveillance show anything?"

The man whose collar he had grabbed stammered, unable to utter a word for a long time. Another staff member sitting not far away spoke nervously.

"I... I think I saw a white light... coming from the direction of North Island."

North Island!

Alzu's expression changed drastically. He quickly submerged his consciousness into the chip in his mind, connecting to all the brains he could reach within this underground facility.

"Transfer ground data underground! Sound the physical alarm! Put the beachhead troops on combat readiness!"

They're coming!!!

The Alliance is coming!!!

His shoulders trembled uncontrollably, and a shiver of fear rose in his murky pupils.

But it wasn't entirely due to fear; part of it was also excitement.

Back in Jinhe City, he had cleaned up Luo Qian's mess and crossed swords with the Alliance.

Unfortunately, when he took over the mess, failure was already almost irredeemable.

But this time was different. Every layout on the Death Coast was personally orchestrated by him.

The chance to avenge his humiliation was right before his eyes!

He should be happy—

No, what did he mean by "should"? He *was* happy!

"Heh... finally here." Gripping his left wrist tightly with his right hand, a manic laugh escaped Alzu's lips.

Watching their boss trembling like that, the few staff members in the monitoring room couldn't help but swallow hard.

Sure, the Alliance was no pushover, but did this guy have to shake like a ghost...?

...

The reason the "Dragon" missile carrying a strategic-level EMP warhead launched from North Island had hit its mark so perfectly wasn't just due to the players' luck.

The timing and coordinates of the strike had been meticulously calculated to ensure maximum destruction of the enemy's communication systems in the Death Coast area.

In fact, ever since the Alliance forces landed on North Island, the communication base stations set up there had been monitoring electromagnetic wave signals from Haiya Province.

Although the Torch Church's encryption technology was formidable—so much so that even the Coalition of All Forces, which had gathered talents from all sides, couldn't crack their codes—it was far too easy to determine when the Torch Church was "holding a meeting" in a "desolate" province.

Just aim for the peak times of electromagnetic waves; wherever the signals were densest, strike there.

As everyone had guessed, that electromagnetic pulse stunned the mutants on the coastline, leaving them frozen in place for a long time without any movement.

Clearly, due to the destruction of information nodes, the frontline troops couldn't receive any signals from the rear command center.

North Island Combat Command Center.

The staff sitting before the control terminals were exchanging tense and excited words.

"EMP detonated successfully! Strike confirmed effective!"

"Our air force has reached enemy airspace! Successfully destroyed enemy communication facilities and active scanning radars!"

"Nice work!"

"Transmit ground scan data to the frontline landing forces!"

"Syncing!"

Meanwhile, on a vast blue sea, eight landing ships were advancing toward the Death Coast under the escort of the South Sea Alliance fleet.

Thick, long gun barrels stretched out like lances of cavalry, pointing menacingly toward the coastline.

General Li Minghui, the wartime president of the South Sea Alliance, stood on the bridge of the Harpoon-class cruiser.

Not just him.

His mysterious and wealthy "old friend," Duke Nihark, also stood on that bridge.

Although Nihark had volunteered to board the ship to observe the battle, standing there now, his legs wouldn't stop trembling. His bewildered face had completely lost its usual composure and confidence, and his parted lips quivered from time to time.

This... was the South Sea Alliance fleet?

He unconsciously glanced at Li Minghui standing beside him, only to see that the usually courteous president had transformed into a different person.

No—

Rather, this was his true self.

This man was originally a general; he had only taken the presidential seat out of urgent necessity... How could he have forgotten such an important detail!

The gaze beneath his sword-like brows flashed like lightning, fixed unwaveringly on the front of the bridge.

Duke Nehack swallowed, trying to say something to mask his discomfort, yet the oppressive aura stifled him, and he could not utter a single word.

“All hands, hear my command! Prepare the ship’s guns!”

A sonorous, forceful voice suddenly rang out, startling the distracted Nehack.

Gripping the communicator in his right hand, Li Minghui, his eyes fixed straight ahead, suddenly roared.

“Spread the barrage! Eight rounds of fire!”

“Fire—!”

The instant the words fell, a deafening explosion erupted from both sides of the flagship. Long, thick tongues of flame shot forward, and billowing smoke cleaved through the waves!

“Boom!!!”

Whistling projectiles streaked across the battlefield, blooming into deadly flames on the sands of Death Coast!

At the same moment, eight landing craft simultaneously opened their forward hatches, and Alligator amphibious armored vehicles plunged into the sea like dumplings into a boiling pot, pushing through rows of waves as they charged toward the smoke-shrouded shoreline.

Along with them, a landing boat was lowered, carrying the scattered troops within.

Iron, fire, and sea now merged into one; the whistling shells and rockets were like an interlude of organ music, ceaselessly passing over the players’ heads, raining a deadly storm upon the coastline.

Blood seemed to burn!

Crouching in the landing boats, the players gripped their rifles tightly, their eyes unanimously blazing with excitement and soaring battle spirit.

It was time to end all this—

The corruption that gnawed at the earth—

A resounding roar echoed through the communication channel, drowning out even the howls of mutants on the shore.

“For the Alliance!!!”

“Charge!!!”