CHAPTER 858: CHAPTER 858: HUNT FOR THE STEALTH HANG

The eastern front of Lion State is engulfed in roaring flames and thick smoke, while on the other side, the West Pororo Sea is a scene of tranquility and peace.

Three large fully loaded merchant ships are steadily navigating the sea, their majestic prows slicing through layer upon layer of waves.

Standing at the edge of the deck, facing the sea breeze, Hank dons a look of ambition, with his upturned nose resembling the prow cutting through the waves.

Undoubtedly, he is a pure-blooded Weilante, born in the gloriously rich Triumph City.

However, due to the overcrowding in Triumph City, he moved with his parents to the distant New Continent at a young age, opening up new lands for the Weilante people.

His father was a Centurion, and if nothing unexpected had happened, he should have become an honorable soldier like his father, achieving merits on the battlefield.

However, misfortune struck as although the father was a tiger, the son was a dog; he was not suited for warfare, consistently failing both the youth military selections and reserve officer exams.

Particularly in the youth military selection.

He couldn’t even make it to the second round, getting screened out in the first round’s physical examination, with swimming being the only physical test he barely passed.

As it turns out, even in a race born for battle, not everyone excels at fighting.

Dejected, Hank became despondent and self-abandoned, drowning himself in alcohol daily. Until one day, a friend from his youth training camp brought him a bottle of "Big Bird Spinning Vodka" sourced from the "Old World", which awakened him abruptly from his befuddlement—

What had he been drinking before? Horse piss?

The spicy taste carried a hint of sweetness that could make one forget all troubles, and since tasting it, he became infatuated with that sensation, finding other drinks bland.

However, this stuff originated in the distant Alliance, and even in Triumph City, it wasn’t easy to procure; the best sources were mostly monopolized by the Eastern Legion.

Despite the simplistic manufacturing process and raw materials, the imitations produced by Triumph City’s distilleries always felt lacking something.

He understood what those imitation products were missing—the thing that intoxicated him the most—a sweet hint that could sometimes feel hallucinatory, making one forget all worries.

To better indulge in alcohol, Hank temporarily pulled himself out of despondency, first crafting a continuous distiller, and then began tinkering with brewing in his home warehouse, improving the brewing process... unexpectedly, he managed to recreate that "sweet hint that makes one forget all worries."

In fact, the secret to forgetting one’s troubles lay within the "methanol in the safe dosage range."

The distilleries in Triumph City were obsessed with improving distillation techniques, striving to brew the purest vodka, aiming for excellence in quality, yet overlooked what the lower-class Weilante people truly needed.

They didn’t have the time to sip on a custom cocktail in a high-end restaurant, savoring its smooth and rich taste. They needed something to forget all worries, even if it meant a splitting headache the next day.

Adding affordability to the mix would make it all the better, even if the joy wasn’t healthy.

Thanks to this "invention," Hank instantly became a somewhat renowned liquor merchant on the East Coast of the New Continent, turning vodka from an "imported good" into something even ordinary people could afford to drink.

If nothing unexpected happens, he might sell liquor all his life, growing his business larger and larger, and perhaps even export his concocted "Little Chicken Vodka" back to the distant City of Dawn, showcasing his clever ingenuity to those guys in the Alliance.

However, unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned; the profit margins from selling liquor were still too low.

His "Little Chicken Vodka" became popular for a while, but only for a while.

The lack of barriers to entry in that field exacerbated the situation.

If he could imitate Alliance’s product, others could naturally imitate his too.

And poaching staff from his distillery to Triumph City was far easier than poaching from the Alliance; a boat ticket and a house in the suburbs of Triumph City were all it took.

Seeing his career bottlenecked, Hank, like most self-made Weilantes, had no choice but to look towards other less competitive new fields with promising prospects.

In the army, only arms were an eternal business and held the highest status among all traders.

And coincidentally, at this time, the honorable Marshal opened another window of opportunity for him.

The Southern Legion was rallying for war!

Although officially a war between the Xilan Empire and various rebels, thirty units of ten thousand "mercenaries" were rare even in human civilization history.

The Alliance was undoubtedly getting involved as well.

It’s foreseeable that enterprises, academies, and even all survivor forces from the Great Canyon and the eastern Old World would take part in this war.

The Southern Legion’s local industry and transport capacity clearly couldn’t singlehandedly support the material expenditure for this war, while the Western Legion’s expansion had coincidentally hit a bottleneck, with a large stockpile of unsold arms piling up in warehouses, going nowhere.

Coincidentally, the Western Legion and the Southern Legion signed a tax exemption agreement on military supplies.

Catching wind of this, Hank immediately spotted the business opportunity and promptly staked all his fortune on it.

No one reacted faster than him.

He was likely to become the first New Continent merchant to dig gold from Poluo Province... if those bigshots who jumped the gun early were not considered.

Once he becomes the largest private arms contractor in West Sail Port, he’d conveniently market his "Little Chicken Vodka" to the local Weilante soldiers.

He believed they would surely fall in love with that irresistible sensation.

And this would count as a "curveball save the factory" strategy.

A few white birds flew in from afar, circling above the deck, seemingly wanting to stop for a rest.

"Caw—"

Listening to the rhythmic calls, Hank felt a sense of inexplicable joy.

"It’s a seagull! Haha, looks like we’re close to the shore!"

Walking beside him, the captain with sunburnt skin grinned, holding back his sarcasm.

"That’s an albatross, sir... And it seems to be a variant, you’d better not tease it."

They were still more than 20 hours away from the Poluo Province, at the earliest, they could dock by noon tomorrow.

Seeing the guy’s excited manner, he figured this boss was probably on his first voyage, let alone distinguishing an albatross from a seagull.

Hank didn’t mind, he just laughed it off, covering up the awkwardness.

"Hahaha! Whatever it is, it’s my lucky bird! Go get some bread upstairs... Remember to take the kind that’s about to expire." With that, he nudged his secretary, urging the helpless-looking secretary back to the cabin.

The captain grinned, thinking this boss from the New World was quite humorous and witty.

It’s said people from the New World are like this, more cunning and devious than the Weilante people of the "Old World."

However, he hadn’t truly lived there; all his knowledge was hearsay.

The one who introduced this captain job to him was a merchant from the Southern Legion. He only made a brief stop at the port in the New World before boarding this cargo ship bound for the Poluo Sea.

The deck was a picture of tranquility and harmony, just like the calm sea.

The lazy sailors either leaned on the railing to bask in the sun or used beer bottle caps as chips to play chess, passing the time, or planned where to find fun once ashore.

At this moment, no one noticed a periscope quietly emerging from the sea, watching them for a while before stealthily retracting.

The secretary sent into the cabin to fetch the bread hadn’t returned yet. Hank was about to go to the cabin to hurry that guy but then saw large bubbles rolling out of the swirling waves.

Something was rapidly approaching his cargo ship, and judging by its size, it wasn’t small.

Hank suddenly recalled a story told by a sailor bragging to him in a tavern before boarding.

It’s said there’s a type of ocean monster called Laken in the distant Poluo Sea and Southern sea area.

The thing is like a giant dragon swimming in the deep sea, capable of easily capsizing a cargo ship with a displacement of over a thousand tons.

But Hank wasn’t worried, as all three of his cargo ships were over fifty thousand tons and were equipped with sonar to ward off variants.

Staring at the increasingly near "big fish," he even stretched his head out from the ship’s rail, excitedly shouting.

"What’s that? A Laken?"

Hearing this, the captain chuckled and walked up to Hank.

"Laken wouldn’t be interested in us, we’ve emitted sonar waves—"

Halfway through the sentence, his expression suddenly changed, and he shouted in horror towards behind him.

"Torpedo!!!"

He had never encountered something like this, nor did he know how to respond, but instinctively he pulled off the life jacket hanging on the railing, threw one to Hank, and put one on himself.

And almost at the same time, a deafening roar came from beneath their feet.

A torpedo hit the side of the cargo ship!

In the face of the terrifying destructive power capable of sinking warships, a mere fifty thousand-ton cargo ship was fragile as a toothpick.

Having no time to consider the situation of the other two cargo ships, Hank only felt himself soaring up, flipping over, and plunging into the sea with a splash.

The events unfolded too suddenly; he didn’t even have time to feel fear before his consciousness blanked out...

...

A few minutes ago, beneath the sea.

Inside the steel-hued ship bridge, a dozen officers in military uniforms stared solemnly at the image projected on the holographic screen.

Twenty-four hours ago, Commander Li Minghui issued the operation plan codenamed "Laken."

They would act as ghosts lurking beneath the West Pororo Sea, attacking the transport ship carrying armament to West Sail Port.

In uncertain circumstances regarding the other party’s actual naval capabilities, this was the most prudent method.

On one hand, it could disrupt the Southern Legion’s logistics and delay the front line’s offensive. On the other hand, it could force the Western Legion to come out for escort, thereby exposing their actual combat power.

"...Target search completed, multiple 120mm field guns detected, cargo onboard confirmed as weaponry without a doubt," the observer seated at the control panel looked back at the captain, his tone certain as he spoke.

The submarine captain nodded expressionlessly, without any hesitation, picked up the communicator and issued a command.

"Combat units at all levels, prepare! Send them to meet Laken!"

A chorus of responses quickly came through the communication channel.

"Roger!"

With the issuance of the order, the crew on the entire attack nuclear submarine immediately moved like tightly wound gears.

The target locked by sonar, the torpedo tube began to fill with water, and then a dark, thick torpedo was launched from the torpedo tube, like a harpoon lurking underwater, aiming at the unprotected cargo ship.

This was a battle without suspense, the other side didn’t even have the means to detect them.

They fired a total of three torpedoes, all of which hit their targets without exception.

Watching the explosive flames and the steel slowly sinking into the water, no one in the bridge celebrated.

After all, the target that was sunk was not a warship, so there was nothing worth celebrating even if they won.

However, this did not mean they would feel any regret for participating in this action.

No matter what form or reason it took, since they were involved in this war, they had to be prepared to pay the corresponding price.

Just like them standing here.

They were fully aware of what they were facing, and what kind of end they would meet if they were targeted by the other side’s warships...

After confirming the target was sunk, the captain immediately issued the order to dive.

With the cooperation of various units, the submarine quickly sank to the bottom of the sea, as if it had never appeared.

Meanwhile, in the sea area dozens of kilometers away, on a cargo ship full of immigrants.

Hearing the sound of distant explosions, Yarman, standing on the deck with the crew beside him, froze.

"...What happened?"

Listening to the boss’s inquiry, the captain standing next to Yarman frowned, and after a moment, said uncertainly.

"Three explosions...they might be torpedoes."

"You can even tell that?" Yarman looked at him in surprise, not expecting this guy to have that skill.

"What else could it be? Could it have been made by Variants?" The captain made a helpless expression and shrugged.

Seeing the boss looking uneasy, he advised in a low voice.

"We better not get involved in this...You must know well that working for those big shots rarely ends well."

Yarman naturally understood what he meant, but finally sighed and said.

"...The doctrine of the Silver Moon Sect forbids leaving people in distress to die. No matter what, I have to go over and see if there are any survivors. Of course, I won’t demand you all accompany me on this risk; I’ll just take those willing to go with me."

If anyone was still alive, they had to be retrieved before they were targeted by the Variants in the sea.

Guessing that the boss would say this, the captain made a helpless expression, sighed, and said.

"I’ll feel more uneasy if you go alone; I’ll take a few people with you."

Without delaying much time, several diesel-powered lifeboats were lowered from the ship, speeding toward the site of the explosion.

By the time they reached the destination, the bow lifted toward the sky had basically sunk into the water, leaving only some debris and litter, mixed with sporadically burning fuel, floating on the sea.

Yarman didn’t know what was being transported on the three sinking cargo ships, but fortunately, there was no secondary explosion.

Discovering survivors in the water, he immediately beckoned the crew to drag them onto the lifeboats, then left the dangerous waters before the fire spread...

The Southern Legion wanted to limit the war to Poluo Province, and the Western Legion wanted to hide in the background and make a fortune silently. However, things couldn’t always develop in the direction they hoped.

Just like the train station and warehouse district in disarray at West Sail Port, and the tanks blown up on the central plains of Lion State, those three transport ships sunk at the bottom of the sea and military supplies worth tens of millions of Dinars were just the beginning.

At the same time Yarman rescued the shipwrecked compatriots, Commander Ryan, leading five ten-thousand troops, also finally aggressively advanced to Reed Bull County, just a step away from Lion City.

The place featured some of the few hills across the entire plain, with several tributaries of the Everflow River system crossing it, flowing into a freshwater lake named "Sunrise Lake."

Like Sulak County, this "Reed County" also belonged to the territory of a prominent noble family, but this Viscount Reed Bull wasn’t as lucky as Viscount Sulak.

During the "Heavenly King Rebellion," he was bound and decapitated by a group of rebellious serfs and tenants, leaving only a few distant male relatives alive after his entire family was killed.

Later, after Anush died and the Heavenly Army changed banners to become Poluo Country, his bloodline was finally not cut off, selling some land and property ensured that the vast farmlands didn’t go fallow.

However, the good times didn’t last long.

Just as the seedlings in the fields were finally about to grow, the Southern Legion attacked again.

To defend Lion City, Commander Udonuo waved his hand and deployed a hundred thousand troops out of the two hundred thousand.

These soldiers were busy building fortifications and digging trenches, and they ruined more than half of the newly sprouted crops, filling them back into the ground.

Although compensation was promised, what was given was the Poluo currency, and no one knew its value, or how much longer this Poluo Country would exist.

However, the heir to the title, young Viscount Reed Bull, was a man who understood the bigger picture and did not oppose this move at such a time, even bringing along his attendants to actively help these soldiers.

On the contrary, some free citizens who had received land were quite discontent in their hearts but wisely held it in.

It is said that the army provided compensation in Dinar, whereas Absek was stingy toward his own people, dismissing them with a few scraps of paper.

Nonetheless, these complaints were in the minority, at least at present, most people still supported Absek.

Especially those within the army.

That guy is not a good person.

Sly, petty, indecisive... all negative adjectives could be applied to him, yet there was one thing to be admitted: he was more like a normal person than Anush.

This was actually quite good—hard to come by even.

Poluo Country never lacked talented people, but strangely, few normal people stood at the top.

In this unity from top to bottom, crisscrossing tunnels soon spread across the mountains and fields of Reed Bull County.

And those pit caves with only entrances and no exits.

Soldiers, armed with weapons and provisions, entered them resolutely, prepared to fill them first with their blood and flesh.

At the same time, the second batch of supplies assisted by the Alliance also arrived at the frontline.

Among the newly arrived equipment on the frontline, aside from RPG rocket launchers and recoilless guns, were also some powerful metallic hydrogen explosives and mines.

Especially the latter; if used properly, they were already enough to threaten the legion’s Conqueror No.10 Tanks!

At least, they wouldn’t let the legion easily take the Lion City behind them.

...

Inside Lion City.

Commander Udonuo stared at the map on the command table, a lit cigarette pinched between his index finger, his brow full of worry.

He had once been under King Anush, and later when Anush attacked Tiandu, he left Udonuo in Lion City to cover the retreat, or rather left him for the legion to "vent their anger."

At that time, Udonuo thought he was surely dead, but unexpectedly, the legion had not yet attacked when Anush was one step ahead and assassinated in the Tiandu Palace’s great hall by Reformist officers.

Later, Absek allied with several other kings, purged Anush’s old forces, and changed the flag of the King’s Army to that of Poluo Country. He himself also went with the flow, leading his forces to join the new regime, and was subsequently promoted.

Although this promotion seemed to him like being sent to die, as part of Anush’s old forces, he had little choice.

In the matter of making allegiance, Poluo Country and the King’s Army were a continuous line; he too had his allegiance to make, only by doing so could he be considered one of them.

And the current task given to him by Absek was to lead the 200,000 troops stationed in Lion State to hold off the Southern Legion’s offensive.

This was almost an impossible mission.

"...Alliance’s armored troops are heading in our direction, and it is said to be one of Alliance’s elite forces. However, their numbers are not large, just a regiment."

"In addition, there are two armored regiments sent by the Tiger army and Black Panther Army, as well as a mechanized infantry division from Jinjaron Harbor... they have already reached the south side of Reed Bull County."

Standing beside the command table, an officer in his early twenties rapidly reported, yet these good news did not completely smooth out Udonuo’s frown.

Three regiments barely made a division.

The Alliance’s armored regiment was not a concern, but the combat effectiveness of the armored regiments from the Black Panther Army and Tiger army was still an unknown.

Those people may not give their all.

The mechanized infantry division from Jinjaron Harbor might follow the Alliance’s orders, but they probably couldn’t be commanded either.

After staring at the map for a long time, Udonuo sighed and said.

"Relying on outsiders is unreliable, ultimately, we have to rely on ourselves..."

Composing himself, he cast his gaze toward the officers standing in front of the command table.

"No matter what, we have 200,000 troops, the Weilante people only have 50,000... this battle is on our turf, even if it means dying, defend it well for me!"

The idea from the Mammoth Nation was good, but after all, Lion State was not Dog State, with a million residents of Lion City right behind them, even if they wanted to retreat, there was nowhere to retreat to; this battle was inescapable anyway.

Reading the determination in their commander’s eyes, the officers standing at the command table straightened their expressions, simultaneously placing their right fists over their left chests.

"Yes!"