Chapter 691.2: The Mega Coincidence |
Though the Enterprise backing the New Alliance were a threat, even the Army found them troublesome, he didn’t believe Ideal City would tear itself apart to fight the Empire over such a small matter.
What’s more, they had the Army backing them. A battle-hardened two-star general had already arrived at the Xilande Empire’s capital to meet their emperor, bringing with him artillery, tanks, and rifles enough to arm several battalions.
He admitted those blue gophers were good at scavenging, but in strategy and scale they still fell far short, no match for their Empire.
No one knew that this operation was being carried out under the authorization of the Empire’s highest leadership.
Once the two cargo ships departing from Port Gallon docked at French Fry Port, over 1,000 elites troops disguised as pirates would pour out, swiftly seize the port, and take control of the entire area.
They would loot the shoreline camps, take back all the slaves the New Alliance had seized, then pin everything on pirate attacks. If the New Alliance insisted on an explanation, they would simply chop off the merchant’s head and send it over.
That way, the Xilande Empire would appear magnanimous, demonstrate its stance and resolve to the Army, recover the face lost to those despicable Moonfolk, and deal a heavy blow to the New Alliance’s prestige at the Mutant Slime Mold Research Committee, killing four birds with one stone.
As he spoke, one of the cargo ships drew alongside the warship.
Mojave stole a glance at it. On the long, narrow deck stood a tightly sealed shed. Without question, it was an utterly ordinary civilian dry-bulk carrier, one used for hauling livestock.
Using civilian ships to transport troops… Only these people would pull something like that.
A man who looked like an officer stood at the bow and saluted Achim. “The First Battalion of the Gray Wolf Army is in position, awaiting your orders, sir!”
Looking at the muscular officer with blazing eyes and an aura of killing intent, Captain Achim nodded in approval.
The Gray Wolf Army was an elite unit stationed in the eastern Poro Province, composed entirely of fierce Wolffolk warriors, the Xilande Empire’s ace in land warfare.
He hadn’t expected the high command to deploy them. It seemed the leadership valued the operation even more than he had imagined.
In his mind, he could already see gray smoke rising over French Fry Port, along with burned-out houses and piles of bones.
Suppressing his smug smile, Achim straightened his expression and addressed the officer solemnly. “Commander Dilrang, your superiors should have already briefed you on the mission, so I won’t repeat it here. From this moment on, you are no longer soldiers of the Empire, but ghosts that haunt these seas, demons who bring death and destruction to the Empire’s enemies.”
“I know this will stain your honor, but everything is for the Empire! Your fathers and children, your clansmen, they will all be proud of you!”
Dilrang’s eyes shone brightly. He straightened his back and swore solemnly, “For the Empire! For His Majesty!”
That imposing presence stood in stark contrast to the trembling Mojave.
Glancing at the cowardly merchant beside him, Achim curled his lips into a mocking, amused smile. He patted the poor wretch on the shoulder, handed things over to his most loyal subordinate, Singer, and returned to his cabin.
Watching his commander leave, the taciturn guard stepped forward to stand behind Mojave and murmured, “Mr. Mojave, it’s time to depart.”
Mojave nodded miserably. Under Singer’s watchful eye, he shakily climbed onto the plank leading from the warship’s deck to the cargo ship.
Following him aboard, Singer waved back toward the warship, signaling the sailors to retrieve the plank. Once it was pulled back, the warship slowly raised anchor, then sounded a farewell horn.
The cargo ships answered in turn with their horns, then continued onward toward the Baiyue Strait.
Watching the warship flying the green double-blade banner fade into the distance, Mojave finally abandoned his last faint hope that those fools might turn back.
At that moment, Commander Dilrang walked up beside him and said flatly, “Mr. Mojave, I’ve already heard about your situation via telegram. You only need to assist us in landing at the dock. We’ll allow you first pick of 10 slaves and goods worth 100,000 dinars.”
He didn’t even hear the later half. Glancing at the tightly shut cabin door, then at the officer and the soldiers disguised as sailors, Mojave couldn’t help but ask, “Do you have a plan? Or are we just sailing straight in?”
Dilrang answered succinctly, “We’re sailing straight in.”
Mojave frowned. “Then what? How are you planning to take it? Just charge straight up from the docks?”
“What happens next isn’t your concern.” To be honest, Dilrang despised this coward from the bottom of his heart and couldn’t be bothered to waste words on him.
Not to mention that they were the Empire’s elite, both cargo ships together carried a full battalion. Even if each man spat once, it would be enough to drown the port. He really didn’t understand what there was to be afraid of.
What’s more, the battle might not even happen at all. Once they stepped ashore, those people would probably be dumbfounded on the spot and obediently raise their hands in surrender.
Looking at these utterly uncommunicative people, Mojave wore a bitter expression. He knew there was nothing left to say. He didn’t even know what he could say to persuade them anymore.
If these people truly had the Empire’s interests at heart, they should at least use a bit of their brains when thinking things through.
But clearly, they hadn’t.
They’re absolutely insane…
…
After two days and one night of sailing, both cargo ships finally entered the western mouth of the Baiyue Strait.
They were less than 500 kilometers from French Fry Port, and barring accidents, they should arrive there before 8:00 in the evening.
Looking at the lush green jungle along the shore, Mojave gulped, “… Do you know why there’s no one here?”
Singer, standing behind him, said nothing, not bothering to respond at all.
Dilrang, who had already changed into civilian clothes, glanced at him and asked casually, “Why?”
“Because no one can conquer this land. Not the Camel Kingdom, nor the Southern Archipelago Federation that fled from here… In the face of wave after wave of mutants, mortal resolve and courage are nothing but futile.”
Seeing Dilrang staring straight at him, Mojave swallowed again and continued, “But some people succeeded. They not only gained a foothold on this land, they even built a settlement here… You might not think that’s anything special, but I’m from the Camel Kingdom. I know how astonishing that really is. What they have isn’t just courage and determination, they have scientific methods, and some things even I can’t quite understand.”
Dilrang replied expressionlessly, “So what?”
Mojave let out a soft sigh. “… Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
Amid the faint rustling of insects along the coast, the cargo ships continued forward. Time passed slowly. Under the scorching sun, this short half-day felt as long as a century.
But unlike Mojave, who was enduring torment, everyone else on board, officers and soldiers disguised as sailors alike, looked full of energy.
He even saw a few soldiers leaning together with leering grins, whispering among themselves, already fantasizing about how to divide the spoils they hadn’t gotten their hands on yet, without so much as seeing the docks.
“When we get ashore, I’m picking one with a big ass.”
“Haha, we know you’ve got unique tastes. Don’t worry, no one’s fighting you for it.”
“Can you have a little ambition? Shelter women are way better than those filthy Moonfolk.”
“Why not try them all together? We’ve got three days anyway. The officer said as long as we don’t mess up the mission, we can have as much fun as we want.”
“Damn it… if only this piece of junk can go a little faster.”
“I’m going to the toilet.”
“Pathetic. Get lost.”
“Hahaha!”
As if answering their anticipation, the sun finally sank into the twilight.
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