Chapter 921: Chapter 921: The "Tsunami" Smashed on the Shore
On the churning sea, a cargo ship sailing across the ocean was cutting through the waves with Yarman’s fleet towards Potato Harbor.
They were only twenty kilometers away from the Baiyue Strait!
It was at this moment that the capricious weather suddenly changed from clear skies to a tumultuous storm.
"Boom——!"
Lightning flashed above the black clouds, with silver snakes weaving between the gaps in the clouds.
Wave after wave crashed against the hull of the ship, causing the towering steel structure to emit a groan under the strain.
At the same time, the containers towed by the cargo ship were in complete disarray.
Even the slightest movement of the hull, when transmitted to the container, would be amplified several times.
At this moment, in each of those containers, a space of less than 18 square meters was forcefully stuffed with half of a hundred-man team.
The Weilante soldiers sitting in the container were shoulder to shoulder, knees against feet, holding their rifles and packs to their chests.
As for waste, it could only be dealt with using a small bucket, dumped outside the container during the heavy rain.
However, due to the lack of space in the container, it was practically impossible to carry out, so many simply defecated in their pants.
But even that wasn’t the worst part.
Due to the violent rocking, many got seasick and vomited all the way.
In this regard, the Weilante people indeed had a ruthless nature.
Almost no one could endure being in a container filled with the stench of excrement and vomit for a week or two.
Yet, the torture that ordinary people couldn’t bear, they gritted their teeth and endured.
However, even so, the spirits of these hardened individuals were nearing their breaking point.
Some were already in a daze, while those still clear-headed either cursed or prayed.
"Damn it! Once I get back alive, I’ll beat the hell out of whoever came up with this stupid idea!"
"Heh, let’s stay alive first."
"...I feel like we’re going to fall!"
"Maybe we already have."
"Shut your mouth! Our ship is still moving!"
"Do you remember the container to our left? I keep feeling like one is missing—"
"I said! Shut your mouth! We are about to win! If you don’t want all the suffering of these past ten-odd days to be in vain, then tough it out!"
Struggling to stand up from the container, the Centurion’s eyes bulged as he shouted with all his might, trying to invigorate his comrades.
However, the rocking and swaying of the hull made it hard for him even to stand straight, let alone steady his feet, forcing him to press both hands against the container.
But even so, he ultimately couldn’t stay steady.
A suddenly crashing wave knocked him easily onto his surrounding comrades.
Watching the racket inside the container, Parry, huddled in a corner, wore a stiff expression. His pale face was awash with despair.
He was an infantryman of the 1000-strong unit, originally destined for the front lines in Poluo Province. However, one day, his superiors suddenly informed him that the staff and army intelligence units had come up with a genius plan, and they needed him to execute it.
Thus, from an honorable Army warrior, he turned into a "Marine".
Yet the big brains in the staff obviously hadn’t experienced being in this container themselves.
If ever given the chance, he really wished to stuff that bunch of idiots who came up with the rotten idea into a toilet, to show them exactly how foolish they were!
The thunder and lightning outside grew even more ferocious, as if to tear the whole world apart.
The Centurion who had previously fallen into feces finally got back up, cursing and grumbling, yet still putting on a brave front.
"Just up ahead! We’ve reached the Baiyue Strait! We’re almost there!"
Parry suddenly realized this was perhaps a form of prayer in its own right.
If they allowed despair to consume them, they might not have even made it this far.
But just then, the mournful sound of metal clashing unexpectedly came from beneath them all.
Before they could react, their bodies were swept up in the violent shaking.
"Shit——!"
Parry heard his comrade beside him curse as his forehead hit the container, seemingly bruising.
The machine gunner nearby wore a face full of fear.
"Damn... I have a bad feeling about this."
This was the tenth time he’d repeated that sentence that day!
And right now, Parry had a similar feeling. It’s likely that it wasn’t just the storm targeting them, but also the Alliance’s submarines or other devices.
But fortunately, their container hadn’t rolled off the deck into the sea. After a violent shake, it finally entered a calm waters.
Feeling the waves outside gradually calming, everyone inside the container let out a sigh of relief.
"We survived..."
The unlucky guy with a bruise on his forehead simply treated his wound, and the gunner who had been muttering began to close his eyes as if he had fallen asleep.
Parry gasped for breath, listening to the gradually calming heartbeats, and then a drowsiness crept over him.
How many times has it been?
He could no longer remember.
It seemed that from the moment he boarded this ship, he had lost control over his fate.
And the worst part was, the person making all the choices for him had never asked what he thought.
As for where exactly this ship was headed, what would happen to those aboard, and when all of it would end, no one had ever given him an answer.
He had had enough.
Perhaps he actually knew from the very beginning where the true enemy was.
At least, the ones making him endure all these terrible situations weren’t the fellows from Potato Harbor...
Time moved as slow as a snail on a leaf, while pain and torment stretched as long and enduring as silk around a cocoon.
Later on, Parry probably fell asleep, though he might have been awake but unaware of it himself.
All the same, before his stomach rumbled with hunger, his comrade caught sight through the gap of the container that they were nearing the port.
Moreover, the calls of seagulls coming through the container wall seemed to herald this event.
"We arrived..."
A beam of light fell on the young man’s face.
Parry opened his eyes and saw his face filled with excitement, as if seeing the end of the journey.
"Shh! Stay quiet!"
The centurion in front made a silence gesture, then picked up his assault rifle, using a hand stained with ginger-yellow liquid to hold the container’s door.
According to the plan, they would quickly launch an attack upon landing, controlling the entire port and preparing for the fleet of the Southern Legion and the Shallow Water Heavy Artillery Boats to enter the strait.
Outside the container came a buzzing sound, emanating from the gantry cranes installed at the port, with huge mechanical arms clamping tightly on the container’s sides and lifting them up from the deck.
The whole process was smooth, even steadier than staying on the deck, like being in an elevator.
Nevertheless, everyone inside the container was tense, clutching their rifles.
"Get ready..."
The centurion clenched his left fist, the finger on the trigger already disengaging the safety.
And at that moment, the container finally landed on the ground with a jolt that shook everyone’s shoulders.
At the same time, a moderately heavy voice came from outside the door.
"Listen up inside, you’re already surrounded. I know you’re clutching your guns right now... But if you want to leave a whole corpse for yourself and those around you, you’d better not do anything foolish."
Sitting inside the container, Parry was completely stunned.
Not only him, the centurion at the door was also dumbfounded, frozen on the spot.
Before anyone could react, with a "bang," the container door was forcibly torn down.
Two burly figures stood outside the container, their iron-reinforced bodies like iron towers.
One was even more exaggerated, with a gorilla-like arm welded with a cannon barrel thick as a python, and another arm embedded with a monstrous-looking chainsaw.
Parry couldn’t help but suspect that even if a tank stood in front of this guy, it could be sliced in two with one cut!
"... Jungle Corps." The gunner squatting next to him couldn’t help but groan, trembling as he spoke, "I’ve heard of them... On Ten Peaks Mountain, a hundred of these things wiped out an entire mountain of mutants."
The soldier with a bandage wrapped around his head was also dumbfounded, swallowed hard, and cursed.
"Bullshit, surely..."
Parry stared wide-eyed at the entrance.
Behind those two iron tower-like men, there was a quadruple anti-aircraft machine gun mounted.
The 20 mm cannon barrel was already leveled, and the eager expression on the person sitting behind it made it clear that the armor-piercing incendiary rounds were ready, just waiting for them to make a reckless move.
At this moment, whatever was happening on Ten Peaks Mountain no longer mattered to him.
If he couldn’t get past this hurdle, he’d likely not even get the chance to fall into the sea and feed the fish.
"Surrender, mate."
Midnight Chicken Killing walked up to the centurion, reached out and plucked the rifle from his hands, tossing it into a nearby loader, then gave him a smile.
"See, throwing the gun is much easier than fighting me, isn’t it?"
In front of his modified body, the tall centurion was like a shivering little chicken, and the rifle he tossed into the loader was as insignificant as a toothpick.
The centurion standing there had his teeth chattering, wanting to show some backbone, but his body refused to cooperate.
Midnight Chicken Killing ignored him, left him to the comrades waiting by, then shouted towards those inside the container.
"Alright, all of you, remove the magazines from your rifles, raise your hands above your heads, and line up to come out."
"We’ll arrange for you to take a bath... Damn, now I get what you were planning, you wanted to stink us to death, didn’t you? Hurry up and come out."
Seeing the officer who didn’t offer any resistance from beginning to end, Parry knew that this war, which had just begun, was probably already over.
But for some reason, he felt not an ounce of disappointment, instead, he was filled with a sense of relief as if a burden was lifted.
It’s over...
Perhaps he wasn’t the only one thinking that.
The brother who was peering through the crack towards the port clearly already knew what was going on outside.
This wasn’t Potato Harbor at all, but a wasteland with only a single pier.
Clearly, from the moment they boarded the ship, the Alliance was already waiting for them here, even going so far as to install a gantry crane just for their disembarkation.
Although they paid a heavy price, the suffering they endured ultimately turned into a joke.
However, these trivial matters, like the Jungle Corps’ reputation, no longer mattered to him.
The fierce-looking guys didn’t give them a hard time, just made them drop their weapons, strip to their underwear, and squat on the beach beyond the isolation line.
Although a few newcomers got so scared they wet themselves, Parry was actually relieved.
After all, if these guys really intended to execute them, they wouldn’t need to go through such trouble.
Drowning them at sea or riddling the container they were in with bullets would be far more efficient than letting them squat on the beach...
On the other side, the Ground Model curiously glanced at the container with its door ripped off.
Even though he had an idea of what to expect inside, the moment he leaned his head closer, the nauseating sight made him gag.
"Holy crap... is this place for humans?"
The Picheng Paratrooper had a similarly indescribable expression.
"Even a livestock ship isn’t this cramped. It’s amazing these guys could endure one or two weeks of this."
It felt less like capturing prisoners and more like rescuing livestock from human traffickers who sold them like pigs.
Xiao Xiaosha Chong squinted and chuckled.
"Isn’t that the nature of imperialism? Sweet-talk their own people while submerging them in crap... The ones chanting ’Long live the Weilante people’ are these folks, and yet they’re the harshest on the Weilante people."
The Ground Model looked at him.
"Wait, is the Army the Empire? I thought it was West Winds."
The Picheng Paratrooper grinned cheekily and said,
"Oh, please, I call myself Superman too. Just because they call themselves the Empire, doesn’t make them so. The Red River Alliance is also an alliance; the laborers there must be very equal, right?"
Watching the few chatting, Midnight Chicken Killing said in a buzzing voice,
"Stop talking nonsense, another container is coming."
The gathered group immediately dispersed, heading back to their respective positions.
"Get to work, get to work."
"I’m betting fifty in the next container."
"I’ll go for fifty-one!"
"Hehe, I’ve got good luck, I’ll open the next Blind Box..."
...
What happened next was just as Parry imagined.
With the busy work of the two gantry cranes, the containers on the two cargo ships were emptied one by one.
During this time, someone noticed the abnormality on the shore and escaped from the container, jumping into the sea, but not long after, they were herded back ashore by marine variants.
This was the lucky outcome.
Some who swam slower had their throats bitten off by sea monsters before the rescue boats could reach them.
After all, this wasn’t Potato Harbor or Fried Dough Stick Port; the nearshore area wasn’t netted to block variants, and it was rather dangerous to stray too far from the beach.
All the Weilante people who made it ashore were driven to squat on the beach.
Standing next to the isolation line, a few militias from Potato Harbor watched these ashen-faced people with a meaningful look.
"... Attacking from inside a container, what were these guys thinking?"
"Who knows."
Before long, a man in an open-collar shirt walked in front of the prisoners.
He was holding a loudspeaker, shouting at the bare-chested young men.
"Listen up, big-noses on the beach, this is a stretch of coastline roughly two hundred kilometers from Fried Dough Stick Port, a place called Mantou Harbor, sort of."
"As for you, you’re the first residents here."
"I guess some of you are thinking of escaping into the forest, and I’m sure some have already made a move, so let’s have a moment of silence for those fools who didn’t wait to hear the end of what I have to say. The variants in this forest are arguably the most ferocious and diverse on this planet. Even using a Mind Interference Device, it’s hard to affect so many species at once."
"So, don’t expect to escape using those amateur skills you learned in boot camp. If you really have that kind of ability, we won’t stop you, just hope you’ll take a camera along, so we can get a fresh view."
"Alright, enough nonsense, let’s talk about things related to you."
"From the moment you detonated a nuclear bomb on our land, our war with you began. While you were drifting at sea these past few days, our allies’ fleet teamed up with our submarines to annihilate your fleet and Shallow Water Heavy Artillery Boats in an uninhabited sea area 1000 nautical miles from here."
"It’s quite interesting, twenty ships loaded with cannons, kudos to you for producing so much steel, now all sunk at the bottom of the sea. If you’re curious about the course of the battle, I can bring you a newspaper another day."
"Anyway, starting today, this is your new home."
"The brothers from the Alliance asked me to tell you that you don’t have to build this as a POW camp. After all, you’re going to live here for quite a long time, and many of your compatriots will join you later."
"So, working hard is also for yourselves... I suppose this isn’t the first time you’ve heard these words, but this time it’s true. As someone who’s been through it, I can assure you."
"Also, ships dock at the port every day to bring you food and supplies. However, except for free steamed buns, even pickles cost money at Mantou Harbor. If you don’t want to eat buns dipped in seawater every day, you’d better work diligently."
"That’s right, the Alliance requires us employers to pay POWs. Though I think it’s a waste, back in my hometown, a whole bunch of people would gladly work for free... as long as someone pays for a boat ticket to bring them here."
"But since we’re on someone else’s turf, we have to abide by their rules, don’t we? You have no choice, and I probably don’t need to tell you this."
Speaking until his mouth was dry, the man took out a bottle of mineral water, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip.
The Ten Thousand Leader, squatting in the front row, stared at the man and asked in a hoarse voice.
"Who are you?"
The man glanced at him and casually said.
"Yiselle, former Ten Thousand Leader of the Imperial Expeditionary Army’s third ten thousand troops, now the mayor of Fried Dough Stick Port."
The Ten Thousand Leader looked at him in astonishment and after a long time managed to utter a sentence.
"...You didn’t go back?"
"Go back? Go where? The Empire is gone. Are we supposed to accompany it to the grave with that fool Arai Yang?" Looking at the Ten Thousand Leader, Yiselle smiled and patted his shoulder, putting the unfinished bottle of mineral water into his hand, "This is a good place. You’ll grow to like it here."
With that, he left the dumbfounded guy behind and walked towards the next squad.
...
Meanwhile, elsewhere, at the Alliance’s No. 1 Settlement, a group of Guards clad in exoskeletons stormed into a restaurant, pinning the dining Greg to the ground.
Actually, when Greg first saw this group appear, he already realized something was wrong and stood up to run away.
However, as a merchant, he couldn’t outrun these Awakeners injected with gene modification agents.
In almost the blink of an eye, a soldier in an exoskeleton flashed in front of him, pinning him to the floor just as he stood up.
"What are you doing! Let go of me!" Greg struggled desperately to escape, but the hand holding his arm felt like iron pincers, causing him to grimace in pain.
At this moment, sitting across from him, Yarman calmly took a sip of red tea.
Placing the teacup back on the tray, Yarman sighed softly, unable to bear Greg’s disgraceful behavior, and said.
"Give it up, Mr. Greg. It will at least save you some suffering."
"It’s you..."
Greg stared at Yarman with bloodshot eyes full of anger and hatred.
He had invited this guy out to watch a show, but he hadn’t expected that the guy would report him to the authorities.
And at this moment, the radio began its seven o’clock evening news broadcast, but the content was drastically different from the "Tsunami" operation he was familiar with.
The 100th and 101st ten thousand troops had not landed at Potato Harbor but had come ashore at Mantou Harbor’s construction site.
The contractors at Fried Dough Stick Port had already prepared construction equipment and tools, and these "lucky guys" started moving bricks as soon as they landed, which were not too hot yet.
The Guards pressing Greg didn’t rush to take him away but let him listen to the radio news brief, completely crushing his hopes.
Greg gritted his teeth in fury, wishing to grind them to dust and swallow them.
"You traitor—"
"Traitor," Yarman looked at him, with a sudden touch of empathy, "who betrayed whom, in the end? Every Weilante person in this settlement once trusted you, and how did you repay them? With your hand on your heart, swear to the Marshal—did you ever consider the Weilante people’s fate for a second?"
Not waiting for Greg to respond, Yarman continued.
"I only found out recently. Wyatt told me that West Sail Port was orchestrated by the General Staff..."
Greg’s face turned ghostly pale, his trembling lips whispered.
"He confessed..."
He actually didn’t confess.
But the expression on his face at this moment said it all... they were indeed connected to what happened that day.
This guy...
Upon learning the real culprit behind the murder of their compatriots, his first reaction wasn’t anger but fear of the news leaking.
Is this sort of creature even human?
Yarman thought he would be heartbroken but found himself more exhausted instead.
"Thank you, you’ve satisfied my curiosity, although I’ve known from the beginning... that the truth doesn’t actually matter."
The Guards holding Greg looked at Yarman.
"We’ll take the man away."
Yarman nodded.
Besides fulfilling his duty as an Alliance citizen, that was his only benefit from the Guards Corps—
The truth that had puzzled him for so long.
Now he had received his reward.
"Hmm, he’s all yours."