Chapter 678.1: Art Is The Best Motivation |
Shelter 404, Level B4.
Pushing through the sliding door into the briefing room, Sun Yuechi looked puzzled as he found Chu Guang sitting on the couch.
“What’s going on? It’s late.”
Ever since arriving in Dawn City, Sun Yuechi had completely adapted to life in the New Alliance. On workdays, he clocked in from 9:00 in the morning to 5:00 in the evening. on rest days, he strolled through the lively streets, marveling at the city’s bustle.
As he often said himself, Dawn City’s prosperity was on par with the Northern Isles of the Southern Archipelago Federation. Though the resources here were nowhere near as abundant as those around the equator, the locals somehow managed to turn their limited materials into endless variety, especially when it came to food.
After trying braised pork rice once, he had been hooked. He would eat it three meals a day if possible, and often lamented that what he had eaten for the past 30 years had basically been pig slop.
In his eyes, the only flaw in this settlement was its weak infrastructure. Perhaps the city had grown too quickly, leaving many utilities and systems in a backward state.
Being a communications engineer himself, he had taken a job as a technical consultant at the local telecom company, helping to plan base stations and channel networks, contributing, as he put it, “his humble share to civilization’s reconstruction.”
As for Chu Guang, he had been preoccupied with organizing the Mutant Slime Mold Research Committee, constantly shuttling between the representatives of the Academy, the Army, and the Enterprise, negotiating aid for countless small parties. He barely had time to spare for the distant south, let alone the retired administrator of Shelter 70.
It was surprisingly lifelike.
“Do you know this man?” Chu Guang asked.
Sun Yuechi frowned, staring at the image for a moment before his eyes widened in surprise. “Huang Guangwei?”
So he did know him.
Chu Guang’s expression turned subtly complicated as he studied the former administrator of Shelter 70 sitting before him.
Puzzled by that expression, Sun Yuechi asked blankly, “What’s wrong with him?”
Chu Guang hesitated, then said, “He found one of our settlements near the Baiyue Strait. He told us some things about the Southern Sea and asked to meet you.”
Sun Yuechi froze. “He wants to see me?”
After a pause, Chu Guang asked quietly, “Do you know that Shelter 70 and the Southern Archipelago Federation are at war?”
“What?!” Sun Yuechi’s jaw dropped, his face going pale with shock. The disbelief on his face wasn’t feigned.
Understandably so, Chu Guang thought to himself, if someone told him that Shelter 404 had gone to war with the New Alliance, he would be just as stunned. With more than 2,000 kilometers of ocean between Dawn City and the Southern Seas, news rarely reached inland. The Survivors’ Daily had only mentioned some events at French Fry Harbor, with no detailed coverage of the southern front.
“That’s the situation,” Chu Guang said, tapping the stylus lightly to close the projection. “But our people think there’s something suspicious about this war. The details still need investigation.”
“Wait, how could a war even start?!” Sun Yuechi suddenly snapped back to focus, his face turning pale. “When I left, I didn’t even authorize access to the armory, how could…”
“That might be the reason,” Chu Guang interrupted. “According to Mr. Huang, they were completely overwhelmed when the Federation attacked. Most of Shelter 70’s people have fallen back underground, only a few scattered submersibles still fighting alone.”
“Where is he now?!” Sun Yuechi shot upright, eyes fixed on Chu Guang.
“He’s departing from French Fry Harbor tomorrow morning,” Chu Guang said calmly. “You’ll see him in two days.”
Oddly, after hearing that, Sun Yuechi’s anxious expression turned uneasy instead, like someone both anticipating and dreading a meeting.
Guessing what weighed on his mind, Chu Guang sighed softly, “He’s still one of your people. You should meet him. My people said when they found him washed ashore, he was half-dead.”
Sun Yuechi swallowed hard, unable to speak. His eyes flickered with guilt, grief, and something deeper. After a moment, he whispered, “The people who attacked him… were they from the Federation?”
“I don’t think so.” Seeing the glimmer of hope in his eyes, Chu Guang continued gently, “He said his pursuers were blue-skinned Mutant Humans, they operate in the northern seas of the Southern Archipelago…”
“The Torch Church!” Sun Yuechi burst out, fists clenching on his knees, voice trembling with fury. “It must be them! They’re the only ones who openly cooperate with Mutant Humans! This war, this entire war, has their shitty smell all over it!”
Chu Guang nodded. “That’s my suspicion too. But convincing both sides to cease fire won’t be easy, especially when one side clearly holds the advantage.”
“Please,” Sun Yuechi pleaded. “Help us! I already transferred Shelter 70’s administrative rights to you.”
Chu Guang’s eyes sharpened, cutting him off coldly. “If I’d known this would happen, I would rather you hadn’t. Half the chaos in the Southern Seas is because you abandoned your post too soon, and your responsibilities with it.”
Sun Yuechi winced, face twisting in guilt, pressing his hands together over his mouth.
Thankfully, Chu Guang eased his tone when he continued, “What’s done is done. We’ll solve this step by step. The war began after the power plant was destroyed. Both sides blame each other. We need to find out whether it was a Federation plot or Torch Church sabotage. Do you have anyone in the Federation you still trust, someone who can help investigate?”
Sun Yuechi gave a bitter smile. “When I left, things weren’t nearly this bad. The Federation’s settlements were pressuring us, yes, but that was all. If I had known it would escalate, I would never have left.”
Seeing how lost he looked, Chu Guang rubbed his temples in frustration.
Did this guy even understand what managing a Shelter means? The Federation Navy didn’t just appear out of thin air!
If the survivors had already split into two factions over the Na Fruit nonsense, how can he not know which side was winning the argument?
Just as Chu Guang was about to sigh again, Sun Yuechi’s eyes lit up as if he recalled something. “Wait, there’s one person who might help you.”
“Who?” Chu Guang asked immediately.
“Muda! I’ll write it down!”
He grabbed a pen and notepad from the coffee table and quickly scribbled a few lines, not only a name but also a short letter of introduction, explaining the situation and requesting assistance in investigating the power plant explosion.
Chu Guang took the note, reading it carefully. “Who is he?”
Looking up earnestly, Sun Yuechi said, “Before I left, he was the captain of the Southern Seas Patrol Fleet. He’s a good kid. When it came to the Torch Church, he kept a neutral stance, not very interested in Na Fruit at all. I’m not sure what he’s doing now, but if he’s still with the patrol, he can help.”
…
Morning, at the port of Ring Island.
Director Stilwell, belly straining against his belt, yawned like a hippo as he fumbled for his keys. After a few clinks, he finally turned the lock and pushed open the office door. He had just sat down when the sound of ship horns shattered what remained of his dream.
Blinking sleepily toward the window, he froze, then his eyes went wide with shock and delight.
Unbelievable! That damn cargo ship that had been squatting in his port for days, the Roro Boat, was finally pulling up its anchor!
Without a second thought, he grabbed his hat and bolted down the stairs to the dock.
A crowd had already gathered, dockhands, onlookers, passersby.
Watching the departing ship, many young men wore wistful looks.
To them, it was a pity. They hadn’t even learned the names of the beautiful maidens aboard before saying goodbye.
