CHAPTER 824: CHAPTER 824: HELL AND PARADISE ARE SEPARATED BY ONLY A FEW THOUSAND KILOMETERS

Just as the reinforcements led by Ross approached the port, the Heavenly King soldiers stationed at West Sail Port were also eagerly waiting, ready to teach these big-nosed ones a lesson.

The one responsible for commanding the first line of defense was Colonel Imran.

At this moment, he was holding a telescope supplied by the Vellante people, "secretly observing" the four warships coming from afar.

Three seemed to be transport ships, and the other blackish object should be a warship, but it was too far to see clearly what the situation was.

Seeing only one warship, Imran felt slightly relieved.

It seems just as His Majesty Anush said, the army couldn’t send many people over.

In fact, until four days ago, he was a centurion of the city defense force, living a carefree life of fishing and fooling around on odd days, and bullying men and lording over women on even days.

However, because his superior deserted in the face of battle, they switched sides to join the rebels almost without firing a shot.

Actually, they couldn’t be blamed for not resisting.

Due to West Winds’ unique "ecological environment," the Tiandu had to maintain strict vigilance over local forces, while the local nobles had no interest in maintaining troops they couldn’t command.

Therefore, in the West Winds Empire, the city defense forces, unloved by anyone, were inherently the weakest in combat power. Despite having "city defense" in their name, they usually engaged in activities completely unrelated to defense, like bullying poor farmers, street vendors, or other thugs like themselves.

Anush, from the Grey Wolf Army, actually looked down on them.

However, perhaps for the purpose of amassing more forces, or perhaps out of necessity due to a lack of usable forces, he eventually accepted them as they were.

Not only that.

This merciful Heavenly King not only retained the former officers of the city defense force, but generously promoted and even prioritized them, awarding them the prosperous West Sail Port!

Imran could see that their Heavenly King had grand ambitions!

This noble Heavenly King truly intended to overthrow that decadent and incompetent empire!

They actually had an opportunity.

Currently, the empire’s ace forces were in the distant Mammoth State, unable and unlikely to return for defense.

On the other hand, their Heavenly King, relying on the legendary tale of the wolf devouring the sun and the declaration of liberation for all slaves, managed to raise a massive army of 200,000 in just a few days!

Even though this army was of uneven quality, and had severe issues with equipment and supplies, its sheer size and high morale couldn’t be underestimated!

They were like a snowball rolling from a mountain peak, growing ever larger and mightier, destined to become an avalanche sweeping away all in its path!

If this guy really succeeded, he would at least have accomplished a grand feat for the Dragon!

Who knows, he might even become a Count...

While Imran was daydreaming, a distant cannon shot suddenly jolted him back to reality.

With a thrill, he instinctively used all his strength, grabbed the walkie-talkie, and shouted loudly.

"It’s the army! The Vellante people! Those big-nosed ones are here! Everyone, prepare for battle——!"

That loud voice instantly spread across the entire battlefield through the blaring broadcast.

Encouraged by that hoarse voice, a chorus of shouts arose along the entire line of defense.

"Oh oh oh!!"

"Damn Vellante people!"

"F them! Show these big-nosed ones what we’re made of!!"

The noisy voices, like the squeaks of mice, were still clamoring for battle, unaware of the impending disaster.

The first to launch an attack was the 380mm naval gun on the Shallow Water Heavy Artillery Boat.

A long flame shot skyward from the pitch-black steel deck, like a sword piercing the sky, or a thunderbolt splitting the heavens!

When the deafening roar pushed away layer upon layer of waves, the little mice guarding the port finally realized just what kind of enemy they were facing.

No one had ever dared to provoke these warriors born for war.

"Boom——!!!"

Boiling lava exploded on the brick-paved road!

Chunks of brick flew up like scallions pulled from dry land, and the sweeping shockwave instantly sullied the entire street!

The two 100mm cannons mounted at the street corner had no time to fire, not even fully seeing the target’s shadow before being crushed into twisted scrap metal by the searing shockwave.

The gunners and loaders crouched nearby didn’t have time to let out a scream before being pulverized into bits along with the shattered shop windows on both sides of the street.

As for those unlucky ones on the edge of the explosion, they lay in the ruins like torn rags.

Being half-dead was the worst.

The wounded convulsed, trembling, struggling amidst the rubble...

"Ah..."

"My...leg..."

"Aaaah!"

"Help...don’t...I don’t want to die..."

The entire port was silent as death.

Only the crackling of breaking beams and the howling wails from the enveloping smoke remained.

Some clutched their broken legs, crying bitterly, while others curled up like shrimp balls, and some futilely tried to stuff their protruding intestines back into their bellies...

The Heavenly King soldiers holding guns were all stunned in place.

Faced with the street that had instantly turned into ruins, they were momentarily at a loss for words.

What...was that?

It seemed like only the blink of an eye.

The defensive line they had spent two days and nights constructing had been tossed skyward like crumpled paper.

Half of the hundred-man squad was wiped out in an instant, without even seeing where the Vellante were...

"Thud—"

A "black rain" suddenly started falling from the sky.

Previously flung stones and mud "whooshed" down, hitting the soldiers’ cover, their helmets, even slipping into their collars...

Jolting countless from their slumber!

Standing on the front lines, Colonel Imran stood with his mouth open, completely oblivious that his pants were already wet.

He finally understood why Anush had hastily left this place.

His thoughts at this moment mirrored those of that guy, just like those of his former superior!

In the end, his former superior was the truly wise one, the guy who was always low-key was more aware than anyone else.

That guy knew from the very beginning, from the moment the rebels occupied the port district, that West Sail Port was doomed, that regardless of whether they resisted or not, they were dead for sure!

If that’s the case, why resist at all?

Better to escape and save one’s life!

Imran opened his mouth, suppressing the panic on his face, and shouted loudly with false bravado.

"...Don’t, none of you panic! We have the numbers here! They only have three... oh no, four ships! If they’ve got any guts, let them land and see!"

Even if just to buy himself some time to escape, he needed those little mice on the front line to hold out.

With his mouth shooting bold words, he started to back away, finally tossing the radio, connected to the broadcast, to his also trembling deputy, leaving the task of commanding the soldiers to him.

Just as he prayed, he managed to flee the front-line command post in a panic, leaving behind a trail of terrified men.

And just as he had hoped, Anush really had no intention of coming ashore.

At least not now.

The earlier shell was just an adjustment shot.

After confirming the impact point, that thick long barrel spat fire once again—and repeatedly!

The roaring shells covered the entire port, blasting the garrison huddled in the buildings, making them scurry away like rats with their heads in their hands, screaming incoherently.

West Sail Port was not a military port and inherently lacked any solid fortresses or bunkers.

As for the marble buildings brought here by the Weilante people, they offered no protection whatsoever for the mice hiding inside; in front of the 380mm heavy cannon, they collapsed almost instantly.

Like tofu smashed by a knife!

When the third shell fell, the morale of the Heavenly King’s thousand troops stationed at the port was utterly shattered.

After all, most of the people here didn’t really know why they were fighting, or what victory or defeat would mean; they just thought they might win.

It wasn’t until the moment the shelling started that they realized how abstract the muddle in their heads really was; real war was nothing like they imagined!

However, it was too late to regret...

The roar of the cannon fire didn’t stop for their fear and wailing, instead, it rolled over them, straight into the nearby city area.

Not only did the garrison suffer heavy casualties, the civilians in the city did as well. They had recently been ravaged by the rebels, and now the Weilante people were giving them a beating again.

The cannon fire lasted for more than ten minutes, and the once bustling port was engulfed in thick smoke.

"Enough!"

McCullen reached out and grabbed Ross’s shoulder, turning his face around.

Ross’s eyes were blood-red, like a demon crawling out of hell, his mouth twitching.

"Enough... enough? It’s not enough at all! You saw it too! Look what they’ve done! These beasts... I want to slaughter them all! They must pay for their blood with blood!"

He yelled hysterically, every inch of muscle on his face trembling.

In the end, he didn’t really need to obey McCullen’s order, and at this moment he had forgotten the respect a subordinate should have for their superior.

McCullen didn’t reproach him for his rudeness, after all, his feelings were the same.

"I agree with you, but don’t forget, that’s our port."

McCullen stared intently at him, his eyes cold, using a bit more force with the hands gripping his shoulders.

"Besides, don’t you think execution by cannon is too cheap for these beasts?"

Ross was momentarily stunned; although his breathing was still heavy, he was no longer as frantic as before.

McCullen continued slowly.

"Don’t you have ’Gray People’ mercenaries... I have a good idea for them. They think they’re so brave, let’s see just how brave they really are."

Saying this, a cruel sneer gradually appeared on his tense lips.

Seeing that brutal smile, Ross suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

He understood what this guy wanted to do.

No wonder he’s a savage from the Eastern Legion, his methods of torture are truly extraordinary.

However...

This seemed like a good idea.

Ross’s lips also curled up with a cruel arc, reaching a consensus with this demon from the Eastern Legion.

Indeed...

Execution by cannon was too cheap for them.

How about hand-to-hand combat with Mutants?

Based on his understanding of the "Gray People," those beasts would tear them apart piece by piece, and slowly so, to keep the food as fresh as possible...

He didn’t want to see those guys on the shore as humans anymore, he only wanted to slaughter them all in the most brutal way!

Controlling his sneer, McCullen patted his shoulder, then looked towards the coastline.

"...Even if there’s one Weilante survivor left, we have to rescue them."

"Relieving our anger is enough, now it’s time for our boys to shine."

...

With the cannon fire stopped, two fully loaded transport ships charged toward the port.

The soldiers standing on the decks were already boiling with fury, gripping their rifles tightly, wishing they could devour those beasts on the shore whole!

The "Clearance" team stood at the front, the big guys clad in heavy bullet-proof armor holding flamethrowers and rotary machine guns.

These big guys were Weilante people who had failed their awakening; the unstable segments buried in their DNA endowed them with extraordinary resilience and strength, but it took away their intelligence.

Yet even those dumb faces were filled with bloodthirsty rage at this moment.

"Roar—!"

A big guy roared, resting the rotary gun on his knee, and unleashed a storm-like rain of bullets with a howl!

Crushed by the storm-like firepower and unable to lift their heads, the Heavenly King soldiers huddled behind the barricades couldn’t fight back at all, and could only poke their rifles out of cover and randomly fire.

This tactic might work in street combat, but over a hundred meters away, the bullets either flew to the sky or hit the ground.

Aside from wasting ammunition, they were essentially useless!

The beachhead fire emplacement was quickly set up, and the first landing hundred-man team immediately divided into ten squads, deploying in three echelons to charge the ruins plowed by cannon fire.

Not long after, bursts of gunfire and cries of agony echoed from the ruins.

A Weilante soldier first shot off a Heavenly King soldier’s leg through a wall, then smashed his gun stock into the latter’s forehead amidst his pleas.

"Scum! What’s the point of attacking civilians, have the ability to come at me! Get up for me!!!"

The man shouted as he slammed the gun stock into the bloody face, just like pounding garlic, stopping only when a comrade pulled him back behind cover.

"That’s enough, this beast is already dead!"

Skillfully reloading, that man’s face was also filled with hatred, squeezing words through clenched teeth.

"...There are still many alive."

"Kill!!!"

These Weilante soldiers went mad from killing, slaughtering almost everyone they saw!

Shooting with guns, roasting with fire, smashing with stocks, stabbing with bayonets!

Treading over broken windows and streets, they used all methods of killing as they rushed towards the faces of the Heavenly King soldiers!

Faced with these frenzied Weilante people, the soldiers of the Heavenly King army were scared out of their wits, losing their earlier bravado.

Initially, they tried to make a desperate struggle, but upon realizing they couldn’t win, they immediately tore off the bandages on their arms, threw down their weapons, and fled for their lives.

Just like when they hastily wrapped bandages back then, they discarded this conveniently adopted belief as if it were worthless.

After all, this battle couldn’t be considered balanced from the start.

Most of the garrison here were civilians a few days ago, just learning how to fire and aim a gun.

If they truly had the courage to fight unflinchingly, or a faith worth dying for, these flaws wouldn’t be so deadly; risking their lives could still take some down with them.

But clearly, they didn’t.

At least most of those who died here didn’t.

On the other hand, they were facing "genetic soldiers" produced using Prosperity Epoch technology!

Not to mention these Weilante people’s strength, physique, and reflexes were already about 20% higher than ordinary people’s, equivalent to an extra "attribute point" in strength, constitution, and agility. Those standing here weren’t ordinary Weilante people; they were well-trained soldiers!

Although the proportion of Awakeners in the Army is not as exaggerated as the dozens of Armies in the Alliance, they too have crawled out from the hell of iron and fire.

And this mob that only dares to wield blades at the weak is naturally no match for these devils!

Watching the Heavenly King Soldiers scrambling away with their tails between their legs, the bloodthirsty Vellante Soldiers roared and chased after them, firing and shouting all the while.

"Damn it... weren’t you quite capable? Why are you running? Come on! Pick up your guns!"

Bullets whizzed behind them, and the Heavenly King Soldiers, having torn off their insignias, dared not stop—they ran wildly across the Wasteland like a pack of crazed rats.

Two decimated ten-man squads were driven, seemingly by unspoken agreement, into a collapsed manor on the second floor.

Terrified out of their wits, they reflexively pointed guns at each other, almost starting a friendly fire incident.

Just then, the Weilante people arrived at the door. In a panic, they lifted up a cabinet lying in the glass house to block the door and the windows on the front wall. Then they found a piece of white cloth, put it on a broken chair leg, and extended it out of a window.

"We surrender!"

"S-sir... we won’t dare again!! Please spare us!!"

"We are... we are from the City Defense! We weren’t with them, it was that Anush who forced us to fight you!"

The two soldiers at the door exchanged glances and grinned. One pulled out a grenade, but the other pushed his hand back down and patted the incendiary grenade hanging from his waist.

"Use this one."

Removing the safety pin, the soldier standing against the door wedged open a crack in the sealed window and deftly tossed the item inside. He then filled the gap in the window barricade.

A cacophony of weird screams erupted from inside, like rats in a flooded Rat Hole.

Dazzling and deadly flames burst like fireworks, trailing acrid smoke that danced wickedly, igniting everything flammable inside the room.

Screams of agony rang out as the burning heavenly soldiers attempted to move the cabinet blocking the door, only to be kicked back into the flames by the guard standing at the entrance.

Crying echoed across the battlefield.

This was no longer combat—it was a one-sided slaughter...

As the Weilante people continued to land, this slaughter lasted from dawn until noon.

When McCullen and Ross and their group set foot on the port, the entire harbor was virtually dyed red with blood.

In the end, the Weilante people suffered nearly a hundred casualties, while nearly five thousand of the twenty thousand Heavenly King Soldiers defending the port were killed, with the rest mostly fleeing into the various districts of the Settlement to hide.

West Sail Port was still a settlement of nearly a million people. Even after the Heavenly King Army’s disturbance, about seven to eight hundred thousand remained.

Ross first reported the local situation to Evernight Harbor and called for reinforcements and supplies. Then he dispatched three hundred-man teams to block the main exits from the Settlement and issued a "shoot to kill anyone daring to approach the checkpoints" order.

Blood debts must be paid in blood.

Their revenge had only just begun...

Like other high-ranking Heavenly King Soldiers stationed in the Settlement, Colonel Imran did not manage to escape the city nor hide himself before he was captured and returned to where he had fought.

To be precise, he was voluntarily handed over by the residents of West Sail Port.

The bloodthirsty Weilante people had terrified everyone—no one dared to harbor this guy.

Kneeling on the port’s tiles.

Imran trembled, looking up at the two Weilante officers standing before him, trying to plead for his life.

"S-sir..."

"I-I was forced... I really had nothing to do with that night! It was that guy named Anush... they were the ones plundering in the Port District! I-I can help you—"

McCullen didn’t even glance at this miserable dog. He merely removed the cigar from his mouth, exhaled a smoke ring.

Then suddenly he reached out, grabbed the guy’s head, and forcefully pressed the burning cigar into his left eye, grinding it in.

"Sssss—"

"Aaahhhh!!!"

Pig-like shrieks echoed in the room, instantly overpowering the sizzling sound of the Maillard reaction as blood extinguished the cigar’s ember.

McCullen tossed the blood-stained cigar into the sea, then gripped his hair, lifting his head.

"Did I ask you?"

With his face covered in blood, Imran trembled, convulsing as if electrocuted, gulping large breaths of air like a fish thrown ashore.

"You have one eye left," McCullen said, coldly staring into his remaining eye, "Answer what I ask, understand?"

"Y-yes! Oh no, understood! I understand, sir!" Imran nodded weakly with all his strength.

Disgusted, McCullen tossed him on the ground. Watching the writhing worm-like figure, he coldly asked all the questions he wanted.

This included everyone involved that night, the masterminds, how many died, how they died, and how many survived, etc.

Imran spilled everything he knew.

After getting the information he wanted, McCullen nodded and swiftly drew his pistol, firing a shot into that dumbfounded face.

He never promised to spare him, but cooperating did lessen his suffering.

"Bury him according to local customs."

"Yes!"

The nearby soldier stood at attention, saluted, and then dragged the corpse away like a dead dog.

"Ten thousand a day, it would take two months... tch," Ross clicked his tongue, his anger unabated, clenching his fists furiously, "Damn it... why not request a strategic nuclear warhead."

If they kept killing at this rate, he wouldn’t get home in time for a birthday reunion.

"Forget it, you’d have to rebuild the port," said McCullen, taking off his gloves and casually tossing them into the sea, before lighting a new cigar.

Although this colony boosted the civil official group’s performance, it ultimately belonged to the Weilante people.

After exhaling a smoke ring, he paused and continued coldly.

"Just replace the dirty blood."

"We still want the land."

...

On the Wasteland, the distribution of information transmission speed is as uneven as that of wealth.

This is not only limited by the level of technology but also largely restricted by infrastructure development, orbital debris, and radiation layers interfering with electromagnetic signals, among other issues.

Due to reasons like these, some places on the Wasteland have even restored the "Internet of Everything" from the Prosperity Epoch, enabling 24-hour, anywhere high-intensity internet surfing, and even fridge access.

While other places still rely on telegraphs or even more primitive methods to exchange information, highlighting a sense of purity.

For these reasons.

The massacre at West Sail Port was only known to the executioners who fired and the unfortunate souls who took the bullets.

On the morning of the first day of the Wasteland Era 214, most Settlements within the Alliance were still immersed in festive joy.

The previous night, the City of Dawn set off fireworks for a whole two hours to celebrate the New Year.

And those Survivor Settlements with good relations with the Alliance, not only followed suit by celebrating New Year’s Eve and the Eve, but also broadcast the fireworks feast on their TVs or other media devices!

The joyous atmosphere lasted until the next morning.

Just a few hours before the Weilante people launched their attack on West Sail Port, the streets of the City of Dawn were bustling with excitement.

Whether local Residents or visiting Waste Land Wanderers, everyone had gotten up early and gathered at the City’s square of Dawn.

Despite the snowfall from the whole night before, it didn’t dampen the enthusiasm in people’s hearts.

Pairs of eyes filled with excitement and joy gazed unwaveringly at the center of the square.

In that focused gaze stood an azure power armor.

On that resolute and handsome face was a smile as refreshing as a spring breeze. He gently waved to the people watching him, as if greeting an old friend he hadn’t seen in a long time.

At that moment, the people’s enthusiasm was completely ignited, and small flags waved like waves, erupting into enthusiastic cheers throughout the square.

"Long live the Manager!!"

"Long live the Alliance!!!"

Of course.

Aside from those uniform shouts, there were some unique voices.

Mainly coming from the players.

"Brother Guang is awesome!!"

"Brother Guang, look at me! Brother Guang!"

"Do you remember the garbage dump by Rhombus Lake? I helped you pick up junk there!"

"Daddy, give me a glance!"

"Get out of here, stop trying to curry favor!"

"Wow... the NPCs in this game are ridiculously handsome, just about half as good-looking as me."

"Gag!!!"

Though some NPCs in the Alliance had learned Mandarin, like Boss Xia had.

However, due to the abstract nature of the players’ statements, even Little Fish, who had learned Mandarin early on, couldn’t understand them.

Pai, standing in the crowd, tiptoed curiously to peer over at the Residents of the refuge.

"What’s that person shouting over there?"

Little Fish, who wasn’t initially very attentive, closed his eyes and listened carefully for a moment, then said seriously.

"Sounds like they’re shouting to have Brother Chu’s babies."

Pai was momentarily stunned and turned his head back.

"Huh? But that guy is a man?"

Little Fish’s eyebrows shot up instantly.

"That’s not okay!"

Standing next to them, Alyssa laughed helplessly and said.

"Let’s not even discuss whether it’s possible... but that’s simply not doable."

Crossing her arms, Heya smiled subtly and gently pushed the glasses on her nose.

"From a technical standpoint..."

Before she could finish her sentence, Boss Xia, standing nearby, covered her mouth.

"Alright, alright, no more technical talk, I don’t want to hear it, thank you!"

Standing here were not only residents of the Alliance but also many Waste Land Wanderers who had come from far and other Survivor Forces’ residents.

The legend of the Alliance Managers was no longer limited to just the Alliance or River Valley Province.

The returning Allied forces and all those yearning for order had already spread the tales of him and the Residents of Shelter No. 404 to every corner of the Wasteland.

Those stories, like dandelion seeds, took root and sprouted on unfamiliar lands.

And those who yearned for him, at this moment, came here with a pilgrimage heart.

Many traveled from far-off Ideal City or even Triumph City just to see him in person, to see what this guy leading the Allied forces to victory looked like.

"...Is that the Manager of the Alliance?"

"He actually looks quite young."

"I thought he’d be an old man... but he looks just in his early twenties."

"Could it be that he has lived a long time and it just doesn’t show?"

"Are you saying like the old men at the Academy?"

"Can’t say for sure, who knows about these things."

A few Weilante people, arms crossed, stood at the edge of the square crowd, gazing at the figure standing at the center.

Not far from them, a few survivors from Ideal City were chattering animatedly with some mercenaries from the Free State nearby.

"I heard on Walker’s Prairie, he smashed a Pioneer wearing Bio Power Armor with a single blow!"

"He also personally went to the front lines?!"

"Hahaha, he has loads of legendary feats. If you have time, just ask around any bar in the City of Dawn, and those drunks can boast about him for a whole day."

"Incredible..."

"Sounds like bragging."

"Cough! I can’t vouch for other things, but this one is absolutely true. To tell you something, I served in the 100th Mountain Division before, and I saw it with my own eyes!"

In the midst of the overheated chatter, the eight o’clock bell chimed precisely in the square.

That was the most radiant moment of the day.

Standing at the very center of the square, Chu Guang glanced around at the expectant faces and began to speak in a solemn but warm voice, offering New Year’s Day greetings to the eagerly awaiting crowd.

"Today is the Wasteland Era year 214, over two centuries since we lost everything and fell from heaven into the abyss."

"But at this moment, I’m not here to mourn two centuries of decline, but to commemorate the just-passed Wasteland Era year 213—"

"A whole year of history written by our own hands!"

"...In the past year, we not only conquered the Lair that had plagued this land for over two hundred years, but also sowed the Seeds of civilization to the distant south and expelled the plagues, chaos, and savagery that leered at our prosperity."

"This road has not been easy; it has been fraught with hardship, obstacles, and death. More than once we stood at the crossroads of fate, falling into chaos and division."

"But fortunately, we did not give up. Instead, united as one, we set aside all disputes, stood side by side for a shared destiny, and together forged that line of defense guarding the boundaries and dignity of human civilization. We have been fighting for it until this very moment, until we claimed our final victory!"

"This great and glorious victory is not only for the Alliance but also for those who fought alongside us and all who dream and hope to end the Wasteland Era!"

"Now we face new challenges, including resolving unresolved disputes, extending the path we’ve illuminated, and sowing the Seeds of civilization to farther places, and nurturing them to grow and mature."

"I believe we have the capability and determination to fulfill all hypotheses for tomorrow. Our predecessors have left us enough experience, blueprints, and inspiration. It’s time to take the torch from their hands and continue to pass on this flame!"

"The Wasteland Era will end with us; this long-overdue victory, two centuries in waiting, will ultimately belong to us!"

"Belonging to all united survivors!"

As Chu Guang finished his words, a thunderstorm of applause and thundering cheers and acclamations erupted in the square.

Looking at the vibrant and youthful faces, Chu Guang smiled and waved, then handed over the hosting of the celebration to the master of ceremonies waiting behind him, announcing the official start of the celebration.

As always, Chu Guang didn’t plan to take up too much of the people’s time.

After handing out Medals of honor to the players, he left the square belonging to all survivors amidst the flowers and applause.

He always felt that on such a day worth celebrating, people should spend more time with their families rather than focusing on him.

Besides, he needed some private time to deal with life and interpersonal relationship matters and to wander around this Survivor Settlement.

Especially the latter.

He wanted to spend more time to see how people had been during his absence and what new antics his adorable little players had come up with.

However, just as Chu Guang was pondering where to grab a meal first, Lu Bei, following behind him, suddenly seemed to get some news, and his expression immediately turned serious.

Quickening his steps to Chu Guang’s side, he whispered in a low voice.

"Sir... something big has happened!"