Chapter 723.3: The Promise From 200 Years Ago

The man beside him wore a similar expression. Apparently, he had been the one who grabbed the microphone earlier.

After coughing once more, he spoke. “Let's focus on solving the problem in front of us.”

Cleaning up the mess would probably be more troublesome than anyone expected. But at least they now had allies who shared their ideals.

After a pause, he looked at Chen Jianhong, then at the residents of Shelter 404 standing nearby, and finally at the crew members of the Glory who were hesitating over whether to return to the submarine.

“Anyway, come inside. Let's talk.”

...

In the waters near Coral City, severed limbs drifted above a reef-covered seabed. Two giant mechanical crabs crouched among the rocks.

One had lost three legs and the other only had three remaining.

Static crackled through the communications channel.

After a long silence, a broken voice finally reached Prone Model's ears.

“... Model...” The voice sounded exhausted, yet carried a lingering exhilaration, like the feeling after an intense and satisfying workout.

No, it was much better than that.

If nothing unexpected had happened, the aquatic Mutant Humans they had just wiped out were probably the elite force of their faction. There had to be 700 to 800 elite monsters LV20 and above.

The price was steep, but wasn't that exactly what they followed Midnight Pubg for?

Blood for the Blood God, skulls for the Skull Throne... Though of course, long live the Emperor!

If only those three days of waiting could pass faster, and if only they could save before dying.

Having finally reconnected, Prone Model stared at the cracked observation window and replied while shaking his groggy head. “Ah... I just got back online. Disconnected earlier.”

Silence lingered on the other end, then came a mocking laugh. “Damn... exhausted after only an hour?”

“Shut up.” Rolling his eyes, Prone Model began inspecting the three mechanical legs he still had.

Of the 19 Emperor Crabs, only 2 remained. Moreover, both were barely functional.

Looking at the handful of icons left on the team roster, he held back for a long moment before cursing, “This armor is freaking garbage!”

“Pfft... Hahahahaha!”

“What the hell are you laughing at?!”

“If the player sucks, don't blame the gear... though honestly, this thing really isn't as good underwater as it is on land. The mobility feels awful.”

Unlike those aquatic Mutant Humans, which excelled at curved movement patterns, Emperor Crabs mostly moved in straight lines. The result was water being displaced in every direction, telegraphing their movements while wasting enormous amounts of energy fighting drag.

The mutant elites, by comparison, moved through the water like fish, weaving effortlessly among the reefs.

Especially once they started using underwater rifles, portable torpedo launchers, thermite bombs, and other weapons capable of penetrating Emperor Crab’s armor. That was when things became truly difficult.

Recalling the fierce battle, Prone Model sighed. “... The beach is definitely where crabs belong. These things should be great for amphibious landings.”

“Yeah. Throw a nitrogen shield or directional shield on them and they'd be even better... Damn, guess we'll have to grind more missions for the Scientific Expedition Team when we get back.”

One or two defeats meant nothing. Three days later, they would only become stronger.

Staring into the silent abyss and the corpses drifting around them, a player sitting in his cockpit suddenly thought of something. “So... what do we do now?”

Prone Model froze. “... No idea.”

Only the two of them remained. The wreckage around them was valuable, but the two of them alone couldn't possibly recover it all.

Emperor Crab amphibious armor was personal equipment. It wasn't designed for long-distance travel. Trying to limp back to French Fry Harbor on those damaged legs would probably take until the game's official release.

Just as Prone Model was debating whether to give up or wait for the Dolphin to rescue them, the sonar sensors mounted on the Emperor Crab suddenly detected unusual activity above.

The noise was faint. Without being so close, their sonar might never have picked it up.

Prone Model immediately looked up and noticed a submarine slowly approaching from the north.

Someone swallowed audibly over the communication channel. “That's...”

Prone Model spoke with difficulty. “80% chance it's a Federation submarine. Stay down and shut everything off!”

They had already heard North Island's broadcast while aboard the Dolphin. If nothing unexpected had happened, the North Island under Chalas had already aligned itself with the Torch Church.

In other words, that submarine might have come to support the mutant blockade.

The thought made Prone Model's heart sink. Only a few hours had passed, yet these people had already recovered from the initial chaos. If they had delayed even one extra hour at French Fry Harbor, the force intercepting the Dolphin might not have been Mutant Humans, it might have been a genuine nuclear-powered attack submarine.

The two Emperor Crabs lay motionless among the wreckage.

They were silent, but the submarine clearly noticed them. A bright searchlight shone directly down onto them.

Prone Model felt his heart pounding and unconsciously held his breath. Fortunately, the massive vessel hovering overhead apparently assumed they were dead.

After a brief search, it gave up.

The enemy sonar was certainly still active and Prone Model dared not start his engine, nor did he dare speak. Right now, his most important task was to remain quietly hidden and act as an observation post for as long as possible. He could relay information through the official forums to Tail and the others, who were probably already inside Shelter 70.

The submarine seemed wary of something. It switched on its searchlight briefly, then shut it off again and turned westward.

Just as Prone Model was wondering what it was doing, his sonar suddenly detected another faint signal. However, the ripple vanished almost instantly. It was so quickly that it felt like an illusion.

Looking upward, Prone Model thought he caught sight of a dark shadow streaking silently overhead.

The shadow slammed directly into the submarine's side, then exploded into a blinding flash.

Boom!

The explosion and the violent current arrived together. Even from several hundred meters away, both players were blasted off the seabed.

An eerie fireball burned in the deep ocean. The water around the submarine seemed to boil, releasing countless bubbles.

The submarine's side had been torn open and its armor groaned under the strain as it rolled over and sank.

Refusing to go down quietly, it launched two torpedoes into the darkness. But judging from the towering columns of water produced by the detonations, neither torpedo had hit anything. They had simply slammed into a sheer underwater cliff.

After finally stabilizing his tumbling machine, Prone Model stared at the submarine crashing onto the seabed.

His eyes nearly popped out.

“Holy shit?!”

What the hell?!

The boss was deleted the instant it spawned?!

Not that he had any idea how they were supposed to fight a boss like that anyway...

...

“Beautiful!”

At the naval command center on Peace Island, the tense atmosphere was shattered by enthusiastic cheers.

Even Commander Li Minghui, who had been frowning all this time, finally relaxed.

North Island’s fleet was not the only force that had recovered from the chaos and entered combat readiness. Peace Island’s fleet had done the same.

In fact, unlike Chalas, who merely pretended to be tough, they were actual professional soldiers.

Given the Torch Church's interest in Coral City, they immediately concluded that vessels from the Torch Church or Mutant Humans might exploit the Federation's internal turmoil to carry out a sneak attack.

They promptly dispatched two nuclear attack submarines stationed at Peace Island, the Shark Tooth and Polar.

The Mutant Humans never appeared. Instead, they landed a much bigger catch.

Not long afterward, a transmission arrived from the waters near Coral City. “This is Shark Tooth... Cold Night has sunk. We will continue maintaining radio silence.”

Suppressing his excitement, Li Minghui clenched his fist atop the command table and replied sternly. “This is Central Command. Message received! Be extremely cautious of their destroyers. And remember your primary target!”

The North Island’s fleet possessed only a single nuclear submarine called the Cold Night.

With it destroyed, the remaining three submarines of the Federation Navy were all under his control. Adding one cruiser and two destroyers, the military imbalance remained significant, but at least they had regained some initiative.

...

Meanwhile, on North Island, Chalas sat inside the presidential residence and slammed his pen onto a nautical chart after receiving the report. “Fucking useless fools!”

Their only nuclear submarine had been lost in its very first battle!

The overall advantage was still his, but it was a terrible omen.

Seeing his subordinate standing stiffly nearby, Chalas roared, “Tell the shipyards to start construction immediately! I don't care about the cost! Use every material available!”

North Island shipyards still had several unfinished projects underway. Among them was a destroyer whose main framework had already been completed. If everything went well, it could be launched within two months.

As for raw materials... Mining the seabed at that moment would be difficult, but Ocean Edge Province could help cover part of the demand.

Picking up his pen again, Chalas leaned over the map, both hands braced against the table.

Perhaps... He should take advantage of North Island's industrial superiority and arm their allies and provide those fishmen with some proper equipment.

That sounded far more practical than rushing out a few extra destroyers.

Looking at the furious president and the blood still staining the table, the aide didn't dare utter a single objection.

Trembling, he straightened his back and saluted. “Yes, sir!”

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