CHAPTER 885: CHAPTER 885: OUTWITTING THE AIR

The car jolted and stopped beside a tall courtyard wall, and seeing the strict guard, the Tarlan Raider knew he had come to the right place.

However, what he didn’t know was that this prison called "Carter Nord" was notorious in the local people’s hearts. They say that those who enter come out with their skin stripped, if not dead.

Take the young lad with a hyena tattoo who was caught with him, for instance; when he got out of the car, his legs went weak, almost wetting his pants.

Under the escort of several guards, Talan passed through the majestic gate and underwent multiple security checks, completing all the procedures to enter the cell, and was eventually placed in a small single room without windows, only the size of a bed.

After waiting in the single room for about ten minutes, a sullen Weilante man soon came over and took him to the interrogation room beside.

As soon as he entered the room, a strong light hit his face, followed by a stern voice from the front.

"Tell the truth! What are you here for?"

Thinking this interrogation is quite realistic, Talan blurted out.

"Tourism, of course."

That calm demeanor threw the two interrogators off for a moment, and their aggressive posture paused.

The slightly older guard coughed and spoke slowly to play the good cop.

"I suggest you confess honestly. Your accomplices have already admitted it. Denying it will be meaningless; it will only extend your sentence."

Talan snickered in his heart.

They had coordinated their statements on the forum long ago; he couldn’t help but laugh at such nonsense.

Apparently sensing his disdain, the faces of the two Weilante guards responsible for the interrogation darkened.

"I warn you to be serious!"

Talan retorted impolitely.

"I also warn you, I’m a citizen of the Alliance, and I came in with a certificate issued by Triumph City. Has the Southern Legion already disregarded its marshal?"

The air in the interrogation room fell silent, as if you could hear the sound of a feather dropping.

The older guard coughed, pretending to drink from a cup, while the younger guard squinted his eyes, clenching his hands into fists on the table.

"Say that again."

He didn’t care who was in front of him, be it Alliance members or aliens, if anyone dared to question his loyalty, he’d beat their face in.

Thinking the provocation was almost enough, Talan leaned back in his chair.

"To be frank, there are quite a few Weilante people at the port on Death Coast. We heard from them that there was a place called Evernight Harbor at the southernmost tip of the Great Desert, so we planned to visit in a reciprocal gesture. But unexpectedly, you were so hospitable, giving me a pair of handcuffs on our first meeting."

Pausing, he continued.

"Of course, aside from tourism, I do have some personal motives, but that has nothing to do with other travelers or you."

The old man drinking water eyed him sharply and immediately put down his cup.

"Oh? What personal motives?"

Talan replied.

"I’m looking for an organization called the Enlightenment Society."

The young guard frowned.

"...What’s that?"

Talan chuckled, looking dismissive.

"An organization made up of Residents of the refuge, active around the Great Desert... But you aren’t Residents of the refuge, even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand."

That dismissive demeanor matched the stereotypical perception of Weilante people towards Blue Ground Squirrels, causing the young guard’s fists to harden again.

Yet, Talan didn’t even glance at him.

As the saying goes, it’s the quiet dog that bites.

Besides, he was a dignified Level 30 Awakener; even with handcuffs, if things got physical, the result was anyone’s guess.

The old guard furrowed his brow, contemplating for a while before speaking slowly.

"What do you want with the Enlightenment Society?"

Talan said straightforwardly.

"I want to join them."

Old guard: "Reason?"

Talan: "Disappointment."

The old guard gave him a surprised look.

"Disappointment?"

Talan nodded slightly.

"Yes, I’ve had enough of the Alliance’s hypocrisy. Why must we bring those useless ragtag into the new era? We inherited everything from the Prosperity Epoch. We are the United Human, we are the new era... yet our Managers want us to bleed for a bunch of strangers."

"To be honest, I’m disappointed with the Alliance, so I want to try somewhere else... I heard the Enlightenment Society is active in the Great Desert, and their ideals align more with my stance, so I came."

His statement was flawless, his face even convincingly expressed anger and dissatisfaction.

The faces of the two guards showed surprise; then one turned to excitement, and the other to contemplation.

"I thought all Alliance people shared a brain with pigs; I didn’t expect there’d be someone clear-headed. Congratulations on turning to the light, friend," the young guard chuckled, his eyes turning admiration from resentment.

Talan smiled but remained silent.

Not to mention he was speaking nonsense, the "we" in that nonsense referred to Blue Jacket folks; how could a Weilante relate to it?

You and those Wasteland Wanderers are just "bad fish and rotten shrimp," when did the United Human grant you the right to inherit anything?

Such wishful thinking!

The old guard thought for a long time, then suddenly smiled and closed the notebook that was spread open on the table.

"Congratulations on finding your organization."

Good guy!

The Southern Legion really is cooperating with the Enlightenment Society!

Talan was excited inside but kept a calm face, whistling as he spoke.

"So, does this mean I’ve passed your test?"

The young guard gave a strange look to his colleague beside him, who returned a meaningful glance, then looked back at the person sitting across the interrogation table.

"I can’t make the decision on this, but I can help you get in touch with someone who can."

"Then you’d better hurry, before I change my mind." Eager to show off on the forum, Talan coolly tossed out this sentence.

The older guard nodded, gesturing for the guard standing next to Talan to take him down.

The interrogation room fell silent.

Hearing the door closing in the distance, the young guard finally looked at the old veteran and hurriedly asked.

"What the hell is this Enlightenment Society?"

The old guard tidied up the files on the desk and responded nonchalantly.

"How would I know?"

The young guard frowned.

"Then what did you mean by what you said?"

The old guard showed a shrewd expression, squinting slightly like a fox.

"Precisely because we don’t know, we have to figure out what this Enlightenment Society is through this guy... In any case, keep him stable for now."

Hearing this, the young guard suddenly realized, unable to help but give a thumbs up in admiration.

Well played!

Brilliant!

Simply too brilliant!

Meanwhile, on the other side, back in his cell, Talan didn’t wait for the door to close before he lay down on the bed and fell asleep.

The guard closing the door gave him a surprised look, called out to him twice without getting a response, then sneered disdainfully.

Are all Alliance people pigs?

Sleeping at a time like this.

At the same time, on the "Wasteland OL" official forum in another world, as everyone was discussing the front-line situation of the "Southern Barbarian Invasion" expansion, a post suddenly shot up to the top of the forum like a flashing meteor.

Tarlan Raider: "Bros! Our Desert Army has infiltrated the Enlightenment Society!!!"

Tail: "Wow, amazing!

Si Si: "The Enlightenment Society... such a distant name, feels like the last time I heard it was two years ago."

Fang Chang: "Seems like you’ve triggered a hidden mission, go for it. (sly smile)"

Desert Falcon: "What the hell?"

Emichiru Junichiro: "Is that for real?!"

...

Just as Talan’s post sank into the ocean, an investigation report about Alliance spies was simultaneously delivered to the desk of Yahui, the governor of Evernight Harbor.

After reading the report from start to finish, Yahui’s eyebrows slightly furrowed as he asked Weilobi, the chief officer of the Guards standing in front of the desk.

"What exactly is this Enlightenment Society?"

He’s been serving in Evernight Harbor for fifteen years and has never heard of this name.

Weilobi standing in front of him also shook his head, speaking with a serious expression.

"I’ve gathered intelligence from Yavente City and Triumph City, but there is very little information about this organization... It’s said to be related to No.0 Shelter and a document known as the Torch Plan."

Yahui frowned.

"No.0 Shelter? Torch Plan?"

Weilobi nodded slowly, continuing in a solemn tone.

"Behind these two things corresponds a weapon powerful enough to reboot the world. It’s said that its power can not only influence the outcome of one or two battles, but can even rewrite an entire epoch."

This part of the information mainly comes from the archives of Triumph City, included in the entry related to the Enlightenment Society.

However, intriguingly, there are very few clues involving No.0 Shelter and the Torch Plan.

There are two possibilities.

The people of Triumph City indeed do not have much intelligence on these two things.

But we also cannot rule out another possibility, that some great entity does not want them to know these things.

Yahui’s pupils slightly contracted as countless possibilities flashed through his mind, all converging on the same coordinate.

"This weapon is hidden in the Great Desert..."

Sure, here is the translated text:

```html

Weilobi stared intently at the Governor, and continued to speak seriously.

"It’s a reasonable speculation that at least the Enlightenment Society might know its whereabouts."

Getting up and walking to the window of the office, Ya Hui gazed at the prosperous harbor outside.

A weapon capable of rewriting the entire epoch...

It’s hard to imagine what kind of weapon could instantly destroy this flourishing community.

However, he wouldn’t let such a thing happen.

If anyone planned to do so, he certainly wouldn’t let that person get away with it.

This harbor is like his child, and he would never allow anyone to destroy it!

"... What do you think?"

Looking at the Governor with his back turned, Weilobi said respectfully.

"Although there is no direct evidence, I’m almost certain that the guy we just caught is a spy for the Alliance, and those thirty people we blocked at the hotel entrance are likely his accomplices!"

"After being exposed, he attempted to change tactics and maneuver with our interrogators. It’s clear he has received some counterintelligence training. This person possesses some skill, but not much."

"Our colleagues in the Intelligence Office speculate that... our opponent might attempt to cooperate with the Enlightenment Society to obtain this weapon that could reverse the entire battle."

Yahweh thought for a long time before suddenly speaking.

"That doesn’t make sense. If this weapon is so important that it could rewrite the entire battle, why would he leak the Enlightenment Society’s clues to us?"

Weilobi smiled faintly and offered his own speculation.

"This is actually easy to understand. The Alliance isn’t completely ignorant of the Great Desert, but they are totally in the dark about Evernight Harbor. Maybe, some intelligence they collected in Pioneer City pointed them to the southern part of the Great Desert, which is the Southern Industrial Zone during the Human Alliance Era. However, they’re not sure if we’ve already collaborated with the Enlightenment Society."

"In the Alliance’s words, this move is called ’throwing stones to ask the way.’ They deliberately release smoke bombs to test our response and then make the next decision based on our reaction."

Yahweh’s pupils slightly dilated, and his expression gradually turned solemn.

"Then what is your plan?"

"To turn the tables," Weilobi confidently looked at him, his eyes shining brightly, "My subordinates are smart. They released false signals to the Alliance’s bait, making them mistakenly believe that we have already launched an official collaboration with the Enlightenment Society."

"I bet that spy locked in our prison must be as anxious as an ant on a hot pan, eager to relay this message immediately."

"Once people become anxious, they will make mistakes. By then, we can trace back to find clues about the Enlightenment Society, and then try to acquire that ’Zero Weapon’ from them!"

Facing those shining eyes, Yahweh pondered for a long time.

This plan is actually quite good, with only one point of doubt that still gives him pause.

They do not have direct evidence to prove that the guy is indeed a spy for the Alliance.

Everything is mere speculation.

However, with the mentality of "better believe it exists than not," he still nodded.

No matter whether that legendary weapon capable of turning the tide truly exists, there’s no harm in trying it...

"Do you have a specific plan?"

"Of course, I do," with a slight smug smile on his lips, Weilobi took out another document from his pocket and gently placed it on the desk, "The plan is codenamed ’Wasp,’ and I arranged for some agents from the Intelligence Office to buy a house in Blackwater Street and disguise it as a base for the Enlightenment Society."

"We can package an Enlightenment Society, pretend as if we are cooperating, and then let them reveal their true intentions themselves!"

...

The disturbance in Blackwater Alley did not affect the tranquility of Evernight Harbor.

For the colonists of Vellante living in this harbor, it is like a stinking garbage bin. It’s not surprising if a firefight breaks out, and it’s only strange on days without the smell of gunpowder wafting out.

Talan’s three confidants hid in the city until dusk before hastily leaving once the coast was clear.

As for the Sand Sculpture and the Comedian, they followed to a place near the prison called ’Carter Nord’ and got a room at an inn using identities bought from the black market.

In this border military town full of soldiers, a war without smoke seemed to have already begun.

And so far, it seems that only the Enlightenment Society at the center of the battlefield is still in the dark...

The night gradually deepened.

After reuniting with his family, Yarman as promised came to the tavern in the harbor district.

Due to the long-separated reunion, his wife clung to him for a long time, leaving him with legs still a bit weak.

The moment the door opened, the heated atmosphere immediately surged in with the noisy clamor.

"... Hahaha, Caffer, you asshole finally came! I thought you really went and bought a farm and became a farmer!"

"Get lost, I was never cut out to drive a tractor, the feel of driving a tank always suited me!"

"Which team are you assigned to? The Youth Corps again?"

"60th Armored Division, we’re the second batch, departing at the end of the month."

"Sixty? Damn, how many people are being mobilized this time?"

"At least a million. Haven’t you read the ’Triumph Newspaper’? Looks like we’re about to mount a major offensive!"

"Exciting, hoping to push into the Alliance’s homeland."

"I just hope to get to the front lines quickly, instead of waiting until we get there only to find no chance to even fire a shot."

The entire tavern was full of soldiers.

Either they had returned from the front lines or were preparing to go there. The former mostly drank alone silently, while the latter usually drank heartily in groups of three or five.

Although alcohol and similar indulgences were also available at the front lines, it was clearly more enjoyable to drink without restraint at the rear.

The Southern Legion actually couldn’t block the news coming from the frontlines; no one could keep the mouths of the Overlanders shut, not even the Overlanders themselves.

However, if the Alliance hopes that the spread of despair by word of mouth could crush their fighting spirit, that would be pure wishful thinking.

Because from the moment they start complaining, those failures have already been expelled from the ranks of the Overlanders.

On a roller coaster speeding forward, anyone trying to hit the brakes is a traitor, and who cares what a traitor says? They would only feel more justified in their own beliefs.

In some sense, the predicaments faced by the Overlanders and the Poluo people are similar.

Like the two sides of a mirror.

Except the former’s war has lasted for a century and a half, while the latter’s war has just begun.

Neither side knows how long the war they’re fighting will last, how many generations it will take for their obsessions and hatred to end.

It is for this reason that Yarman has immense admiration for the man named Pangolin.

It’s said that guy is just a peasant from the mountain valleys of the River Valley Province, yet his thunderous roar startled Triumph City.

He hopes he can bring hope back from Triumph City.

And hopes that day won’t come too late...

At the bar counter, Yarman found Kuluan, who had just gotten off work from customs.

This man in his early thirties was already drinking, and without his medal-bedecked uniform, he looked no different from the drunks around him, perhaps even more unkempt than they were.

"Come sit over here." Spying Yarman immediately in the crowd, Kuluo enthusiastically pulled out a chair for him, then grinned at the bartender, "This is my new friend, bring another bottle of beer."

"Thanks."

Yarman nodded politely, sat next to the retired veteran, and glanced around, amazed as he clicked his tongue.

"This bar has never been this lively."

"Times have changed; we’ve made a fortune from the war," the bartender placed a chilled beer on the counter, then looked at Kuluan, "Don’t take offense, I was just speaking casually, no intention to mock you guys."

Kuluan laughed and waved his hand.

"I’m not that petty; I might even wish you a thriving business."

Looking at this carefree cripple, Yarman found him quite interesting and casually asked a question.

"After hearing my story, could you tell me yours? I’ve always been curious about what’s really going on at the frontlines."

Although he often visited Poluo Province, he mostly stayed in a few major ports, never venturing far inland.

Kuluan smirked, his smile turning enigmatic.

"A complete mess, my story is as trivial as the battle reports from the frontlines. If you insist on listening, take it as entertainment, don’t take it seriously. Always rely on the stories from the Southern Corps Victory Report."

"I’m interested in the stories not mentioned in the newspapers; those Poluo people occasionally tell me some things not covered in the Survivor’s Daily." Yarman clinked glasses with him, encouraging him to continue.

Kuluan smiled faintly, his gaze filled with recollection, pondering for a moment before proceeding.

"...Back then, we encountered the Skeleton Corps in Reed Bull County. Their tanks were like can openers, as our tanks got blown up one after the other, like these beer bottle caps."

As he spoke, he flicked the bottle cap with his thumb, sending it flying perfectly into the trash can.

"And then?"

"And then? Then, of course, we won, though the cost would be hard for you to swallow. We have three thousand brothers still unaccounted for, neither missing nor found," Kuluan smiled, paused for a moment, then continued, "As for Gibson, he’s still serving as a Ten Thousand Leader, while I got assigned to this lousy customs job."

Yarman fell into silence.

He happened to know where those over 3000 people were, just in the POW camp on the outskirts of Jinjaron Harbor.

The Alliance actually treated them well, giving wages for their work after the camp was built, and they were also protected by Alliance law, working only eight hours a day.

Kuluan also fell into silence, taking a hard gulp of beer, tapping the empty bottle on the moldy wooden table.

"Maybe I am too pessimistic; I feel that achieving victory on the front battlefield is almost impossible... unless there’s some kind of weapon that can completely change the tide, wiping our opponents off this planet."

Yarman forced a bitter smile.

"If there really is such a weapon, its existence in itself would be terrifying."

Kuluan grinned.

"Who knows, maybe there really is? I heard General Giulion placed a big bet on something called the ’Mortal Serum.’"

Detecting a tinge of ominousness from that name, Yarman slightly furrowed his brows.

"Mortal Serum?"

Kuluan lowered his voice, speaking in a mysterious tone.

"That’s right, a virus that only infects specific people, able to systematically eliminate our opponents... like those Rat Clan people or Snake Clan folks. As for others, they’d merely be virus carriers, unaffected by it."

Yarman’s face showed an expression of astonishment.

"Can something like that really be done? I mean... it truly wouldn’t affect the Overlanders the same way?"

Kuluan chuckled.

"Who knows, some things are like the battle reports from the frontlines, half-true, half-false."

After a pause, he continued with a smile.

"... By the way, I heard a rumor that this ’good stuff’ was actually made by a Blue Ground Squirrel."

——

(Thanks to ’CaptPaterno’ for the leader’s reward!!!)