Chapter 694.1: You Call This A Counterattack?!
On North Island, inside a room that wasn’t large but was lavishly decorated, Chalas, who was immaculately dressed, paced back and forth.
His gaze kept flicking to the digital clock on the wall, then drifting absent-mindedly toward the door. The restlessness on his face was impossible to miss.
Just then, there were three light knocks from outside.
As if receiving a signal, he immediately stepped forward and pulled the door open. A young officer in uniform stood outside.
“Come in.” Before the man could say a word, Chalas grabbed him and pulled him inside, cautiously glancing down the corridor to check whether anyone was following before slowly closing the door.
“How is it?” he asked.
Facing Chalas expectant look, the officer spoke nervously. “Something’s happened.”
Those words made Chalas heart sink instantly, his brows knotting together.
Before he could ask further, the officer continued rapidly, barely pausing for breath. “The gunfire lasted for over an hour. From the sea to the beach, it was blood and bodies everywhere. Human bodies, and Mutant Humans bodies... They were all over the place.”
Hearing that there were both corpses of humans and Mutant Humans, Chalas clung to his last shred of hope and quickly asked, “Were there more humans, or more Mutant Humans who died?”
The officer’s expression darkened. “Humans... but those people don’t seem to be from the New Alliance.”
Chalas froze, blurting out, “Not the New Alliance?! Then where did they come from?”
The officer shook his head. “No idea. They had no obvious insignia, so their identities can’t be confirmed for now. According to drone footage, they entered the Baiyue Strait aboard two cargo ships and happened to run into the Mutant Human force the Torch Church sent toward French Fry Harbor. Those fish-scaled beasts have no sense at all, once they saw people, they couldn’t stop themselves. They fought the two ships first, then chased those people ashore. The landing site ended up five or six kilometers away from French Fry Harbor!”
Chalas eyes widened. “And then?”
The officer said with difficulty, “And then... they were all taken out by the New Alliance.”
Chalas stared at his officer in stunned silence. “...”
The room fell silent.
Because the maritime patrol hadn’t been on station, the Federation’s destroyer lingered in the surrounding waters for quite some time. The drones it launched captured nearly the entire battle until their batteries ran dry.
Watching Chalas grave expression, the officer swallowed and lowered his voice. “... The worst part is that they were completely wiped out. There are too many bodies, there’s no time to deal with them, and no way to. Once dawn breaks tomorrow and the patrol returns to its route, they’ll definitely notice something wrong on the beach. What I’m worried about is that someone with ulterior motives might link those bodies to today’s exercise.”
Unlike the navy, which was fully loyal to the South Archipelago Federation, he knew very well that there were two factions within the presidential office. There were people like Chalas who firmly stood on the Federation’s side, and there were also cowards who wavered in their stance toward Shelter 70.
If those weak-willed people realized that the fuse of this war concealed another truth, their indecision could drag the Federation, currently holding every advantage, into an abyss.
Chalas pondered silently for a long while before speaking slowly. “Even if they connect the dots, so what? That isn’t our territory.”
Seeing that Chalas didn’t seem to grasp the seriousness of the situation, the young officer grew anxious and hurried to add, “That’s true... but what if someone links those Mutant Humans to the cargo ships that were lost in the South Sea? Everyone used to believe those scaled idiots would never leave the Death Coast. Now they’ve swum over 1,000 kilometers, appeared directly to our west, and can even launch torpedoes! Using distance as an excuse to say they couldn’t attack our ships just doesn’t hold water anymore.”
After a pause, he lowered his voice further. “I’ve heard that some people are already investigating those lost ships, including the Golden Coast, which the President sent to Ocean Edge Province, and the remains of the power station. If those snooping bastards discover something, we’ll be in trouble.”
A sharp glint flashed through Chalas eyes as his clenched fist rubbed thumb against forefinger.
Watching the expression on the chief of staff’s face, the officer continued in a deep voice, “My biggest concern now is what the President might already know. No matter what, we need to prepare for the worst. If it comes to it, we should just come clean with the President...”
Under the Federation’s current system, the President also served as Commander-in-Chief of the navy. Any military operation required his personal authorization. Though everything they had done was for the Federation, that they had done was still an unauthorized action, legally and morally indefensible.
It was only a matter of time before the truth came out. Especially at this rate, the risk of exposure was growing by the day.
Rather than laying the groundwork for an even greater disaster by concealing things, it would be better to be upfront and pull the President onto their war chariot, waging their war more decisively.
However, before he could finish, Chalas cut him off without hesitation. “Now is not the time. The President and his supporters still harbor illusions about Shelter 70. We need to give our compatriots who haven’t moved on from the past a bit more time. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him. You focus on the maritime patrol. I suspect that’s where the information leak came from that allowed the New Alliance to prepare in advance.”
“But...”
The officer hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, but Chalas shut him down curtly. “That’s enough. We’ve been meeting too long. If there’s anything else, I’ll contact you.”
“... Yes.” Meeting that unquestionable gaze, the officer finally nodded, turned, and left the room.
Watching the door close, Chalas sat down on the sofa and pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger.
Come clean with the President?
A bunch of naive fools.
Mr. Mongo would never stand with them, the South Archipelago Federation was founded by his hand.
If he learned that the power station had actually been sunk by their people, merely to give the Federation a pretext to settle accounts with Shelter 70, he would kick Chalas out of the presidential office even if he didn’t kill him outright.
And even if, by some miracle, that man agreed to help conceal the truth of this war, how would Chalas ever turn the Federation into his own?
Of course he would confront the President.
But absolutely not now, while the presidential office and the navy were still so closely aligned...
Letting his consciousness sink into a Sanctum, Chalas lowered his gaze slightly and murmured soundlessly, “The gill-breathing monsters you keep have caused trouble. You had better have them lie low for a while.”
“I’m not complaining... but you really should find some allies that are at least a bit more presentable.”
...
The following morning.
The light of dawn spilled over the northern shore of the Baiyue Strait, gilding the quiet beach in gold.
Standing at the bow of a patrol boat, Muda stared unblinkingly toward French Fry Harbor, his brow faintly furrowed.
Mirroring his reaction, the sailor beside him muttered softly, “That’s a strong smell of blood...” After a pause, he added, “Doesn’t feel like it was left by beasts.”
Muda nodded and called back toward the cabin, “Activate active sonar.”
“Yes, sir!” The helmsman acknowledged and reached for the console, flipping a red switch.
Not long after, he yelled in surprise, “Six to seven kilometers due west, two wrecks! Judging by the echo patterns, they look like civilian cargo ships.”
Wrecks?!
A bad feeling rose in Muda’s chest.
The sailor beside him looked at him nervously. “Sir, should we go take a look?”
Muda thought for a moment before answering. “First, let’s check on our neighbors.”
No matter what, over 500 residents from Coral City still lived at French Fry Harbor.
Though those people claimed to have joined the New Alliance, bonds of shared kinship made it impossible for him to abandon them. That included the other survivors at French Fry Harbor as well.
Since he occasionally went to the island to drink, he was fairly familiar with the locals. Despite plenty of misunderstandings at first, after spending some time together he found them to be genuinely decent people.
They were completely different from the selfish, sly wastelanders on land. When considering problems, they rarely thought only of themselves and often took others’ difficulties into account.
Even the water pipeline currently under construction had earned them favorable opinions among the survivors of Ring Island, at the very least, they weren’t disliked.
He hoped they were all safe...
The speedboat soon docked at the pier.
Seeing how eerily quiet the camp was, Muda’s heart sank slightly. As soon as the boat was secured, he jumped onto the dock and headed toward the camp with two subordinates.
Just then, a shelter resident carrying a plastic bucket and a fishing rod came out, and nearly bumped straight into him.
They both froze.
The shelter resident recovered faster. Slapping his forehead, he laughed and said in halting Federation speech, “Oh! You’re the captain of the South Archipelago Federation patrol, right? Are you Muda?”
Muda stared at the stranger in confusion. “You know me?”
The fisherman grinned. “Yeah. First time meeting you, but I’ve heard about you on the forum.”
“...?”
Seeing the NPC’s somewhat blank expression, the player scratched his head. “Did you need something? Are you looking for someone, or...?”
“Nothing in particular,” Muda replied, glancing around. “I was just wondering, where is everyone? Why is it so quiet today?”
The player laughed. “Oh, that? Quiet’s normal. This settlement didn’t have many people to begin with. And early this morning, over 500 left. Lots of folks followed our brother Ample Time to go fuck around.”
“Fuck around?” Muda froze again, not understanding the phrase.
Seeing his confusion, the player patiently explained the whole sequence of events in clumsy Federation speech. “Basically, last night a bunch of idiots came here from the Poro Province. No idea what they were thinking, they actually dared to open fire on us. So we cleaned them up along with the fish raised by the Torch Church. After we finished and captured them, we found out they were from the Xilande Empire.”
Hearing things like “the Xilande Empire”, “fish raised by the Torch Church”, and several unfamiliar terms, Muda listened with a thoroughly bewildered expression. Seizing a pause, he hurriedly cut in, “As long as you’re all safe, that’s good... By the way, when will Ample TIme be back?”
The player smiled. “Probably about a week. Is there something you need? I can pass a message for you.”
Muda cleared his throat. “No need, I was just curious... Oh, and you mentioned ‘fish raised by the Torch Church’. What does that mean?”
The player grinned and continued. “They’re those Mutant Humans! The blue skinned kind, with fish scales all over their bodies, gills under their chins, and a whole mishmash of weapons. Long guns, short guns, even torpedoes. I heard they drifted over from the Death Coast in Ocean Edge Province.”
The Death Coast?!
Muda stared at him blankly, his face full of shock.
