Chapter 916: Chapter 916: The Southern Legion’s "Qi Tactics
"Recently, due to weather issues, the Alliance Managers have made adjustments to their itinerary for visiting the Southern Alliance Region..."
In the restaurant located in the harbor area of the No.1 Settlement, the radio was playing the day’s news.
It was now four in the afternoon, and although the restaurant was open, it was clearly far from the busy time.
Sitting by the window display, Yarman occasionally glanced outside the restaurant, seemingly waiting for someone.
At this moment, the sound of a wind chime came from the door. He looked up and met eyes with Greg.
"I knew you would definitely contact me."
"Why do you say that?" Yarman slightly raised an eyebrow.
Greg squeezed his eyebrows at him and continued in a humorous tone.
"Isn’t it obvious, loyalty to the Marshal is the factory setting for every Vellante; for honor and loyalty, we’re willing to give our lives, even if our feet are far from Triumph City. If the Alliance thinks they can buy us off with some petty benefits, they are sorely mistaken."
Pulled out a chair and sat opposite Yarman, Greg smiled brightly at the approaching waitress, "Just a black coffee."
"Certainly, sir."
The Moon Clan girl gave a gentle smile, her graceful figure soon floating behind the bar.
Yarman took a deep breath, looking around slightly uneasy.
"Should we find a more secluded place?"
"No need, the view is broad here. Once you’re used to it, you’ll know; discussing some things in public is actually better than behind closed doors. After all, no precaution can completely prevent eavesdropping..."
Watching the waitress with coffee approaching, Greg nodded politely and smiled at her, only looking back at Yarman after she returned to the bar.
"The sound from the radio is enough to cover our conversation."
"Alright, I was just being cautious. Since you don’t mind, let’s get straight to the point..." Yarman spoke quickly, taking a sip of lemon water to mask his nervousness.
"As you wish." Greg took a paper from his pocket and gently laid it on the table.
Surprised by the open approach, Yarman looked at the paper, his expression growing more astonished.
"This is..."
"The Tsunami Plan," Greg spoke leisurely, "The Alliance has been sending aid supplies to Poluo Province through the Baiyue Strait and Silver Moon Bay. As long as we can seize the Baiyue Strait, we can cripple them."
Yarman looked at him in shock.
"But doesn’t this mean—"
Greg smiled slightly.
"Declaring war on the Alliance, right? I know what you’re worried about, but this is part of our strategic deployment. Opening up a second battlefield on the Alliance’s territory is necessary. Only by doing so can we bring our allies into the battle chariot."
Looking at this madman, Yarman’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke in a hoarse voice.
"...Are you working for the Southern Legion Army Intelligence Bureau? That... legendary Bureau 2?"
"That’s right. Surprised? Actually, it’s not just Bureau 2, but also the General Staff."
With a flick of his finger by the water jug, Greg gently poured water over the paper.
As the water soaked the paper, the words gradually faded like melting snow.
However, Yarman had already photographed the paper’s contents, so he didn’t mind the destruction of the evidence.
Having shown his sincerity, Greg continued in a calm tone.
"Actually, we got our inspiration from the residents of Evernight Harbor. Since the Alliance is willing to accept the Vellante without reservation, why not use this chance to have real soldiers infiltrate their ranks and then... boom."
As he spoke, Greg opened his clenched right hand, as if it were a bursting fireworks display.
He wore a brilliant smile on his face, speaking merciless words.
"...Just like fireworks, they will be blown to smithereens by us."
Listening to this crazy plan, Yarman felt as if there was a devil sitting in front of him.
If this plan succeeds...
The Vellante would probably become the world’s most infamous dung.
But this might also fulfill the Southern Legion’s wishes.
Sometimes facts are counterintuitive. Although the legions bind the Vellante with honor, the organization composed of Vellante doesn’t treasure honor as the "honorable Vellante" do.
In fact, they wish the Vellante to become those infamous dung.
After all, the worse the Vellante reputation, the less others show good faces when mentioning them, and the more reliant on the Legion the Vellante become.
Just like a dung beetle with its ball of dung.
Yarman swallowed.
"...This is a genius idea."
Greg smiled faintly.
"You’re too kind."
Yarman: "But what about your own business? Won’t your business be affected?"
It wasn’t surprising that Yarman would ask this question. Greg chuckled and then lowered his voice to speak.
"That kind of thing is just a facade. Besides... you don’t need to worry about the business being affected. We never mistreat those who work for us. Once our plan succeeds, I can guarantee you a thirty percent share of the trade in Potato Harbor, and you will be granted the title of Ten Thousand Leader... You won’t have to live a wandering life anymore."
A facade...
It seems the so-called mutual aid society is also a facade.
Yarman took a sip of lemon water, calming himself down while putting on an intrigued look.
"How many people do you have?"
"Two squads of ten thousand troops." Greg held up two fingers, "Most of the Alliance’s combat-ready armies are deployed in Poluo Province; over twenty thousand people are enough for us to take Baiyue Strait."
"Twenty thousand?!"
Yarman’s mouth twitched, unable to help but continue speaking.
"Are you joking? I only have twelve ships; 5,000 people are already my carrying capacity limit."
Greg smiled and reassured him.
"Don’t worry about that. To implement this plan, we specifically purchased five container ships through our own contacts... We will load the soldiers into the containers along with their weapons. I need your team to provide cover for them, then dock at Potato Harbor. When the local customs open the boxes, our soldiers will jump out and give them a shock."
Pausing slightly, he continued.
"The warehouses in Potato Harbor store military aid sent to Poluo Province; these equipages can be just used for us. After occupying Potato Harbor, we will immediately block the Baiyue Strait and, under the cover of the Western Legion, send our heavy artillery boats inside to establish a frontline base in Baiyue Province, advancing along the coastline towards Death Coast... By then, the entire Alliance will fall apart under our attack."
Yarman pinched the bridge of his nose, speaking with a headache.
"I always feel like there are a lot of problems with your plan... Also, why are you so confident that just landing in the Alliance will turn the tide? You should have witnessed their cohesion."
"I know, of course, I know. Ever since I came to the Alliance, I have been observing them... including their weaknesses," Greg said with a smile, "for instance, their Managers."
Looking at Greg’s mysterious smile, Yarman raised an eyebrow lightly.
"I remember he’s still young."
"Then let something happen to him."
Adding some sugar to his coffee, Greg gently stirred it with a teaspoon and continued unhurriedly.
"Under his leadership, they have indeed united quite a number of people, but there are also plenty who hate them, like a shadow under the sunlight... Those guys are lurking in places beyond the reach of the light of order, ready to strike their enemies a fatal blow at any moment. If they rely only on themselves, they may wait until the next life and still not have this opportunity, but with our help, it’s different."
Yarman stared at him in shock, gradually understanding his plan.
"...You want to replicate the Bone Chewing Chaos?"
"Bone Chewing Chaos?" Greg sneered, "The Eastern Legion could never be successful because they wavered when they should have stood firm, but we will not make such a mistake. We deploy personally, direct command, provide them with all necessary weapons and equipment... The entire plan is foolproof, and they will pay dearly for opposing us."
Seeing that Yarman still wanted to ask something, Greg coughed to interrupt him before he could speak.
"Enough, are we getting off-topic? The decapitation operation is handled by someone else; let’s get back to our ’Tsunami.’ Your job is simple, just help our people land, and leave the rest to the professionals."
At this point, Greg fixed his gaze on Yarman, waiting for his response.
Yarman knew very well that knowing so much, if he dared to say no, he might not even see the moon tonight.
He couldn’t help but smile wryly in his heart, but his face remained calm. After seriously contemplating for a long time, he slowly nodded.
"Leave it to me."
Hearing this expected answer, a bright smile once again appeared on Greg’s face.
"Congratulations, you have chosen the right path."
Leaving these words, he stood up, gently patted Yarman’s shoulder, picked up the damp piece of white paper and stuffed it into his pocket, then headed to the restaurant’s bar.
He had added a whole plate of sugar to his coffee, it was likely sickly sweet, yet he hadn’t taken a sip.
Watching Greg leave after paying, Yarman gave a bitter smile, picked up the lemon water on the table, and took a sip.
Seeing the waitress coming to clean the tableware, he removed the button from his collar and placed it gently on the table.
"You all heard, didn’t you... Do I still need to do anything?"
The Moon Clan girl smiled at him brightly while tidying up the table.
Even picking up hairs that had fallen onto the table and chairs.
"No need, sir, we’ll take care of clearing the tableware, you just proceed with today’s schedule. Thank you for supporting our business, and wish you a pleasant life."
Yarman made a helpless expression.
If he could, he really wouldn’t want to get involved in this kind of thing, and he initially planned not to.
The Guards Corps didn’t force him to cooperate with them on the case; if he was unwilling, he just needed to promise confidentiality and not to contact anyone related to the mutual aid society again.
However, after thinking about the tragedy at West Sail Port, he immediately dismissed the idea of staying uninvolved.
No one can truly be uninvolved.
When things find you, one foot is already in the game, pretending everything doesn’t concern you won’t make you or your family any safer.
He couldn’t wait until everything happened to learn from the Poluo people and explain to the united survivors—
"Not all Poluo people are like this."
The pale excuse was hardly even a comfort...
...
The "Tsunami" aimed at Potato Harbor was like an arrow ready to be released, with container ships full of soldiers departing from Evernight Harbor.
Under Greg’s operations, a batch of weapons had already been loaded onto the cargo ship at the No. 1 Settlement, sent to Potato Harbor under the guise of military aid to the countries of the Poluo Province.
Meanwhile, Yarman’s fleet also set sail, heading straight for West Sail Port.
They would rendezvous at West Sail Port and then head directly through the Poluo Sea to the Baiyue Strait.
Everything was proceeding according to plan.
At this moment, the Alliance’s attention was fully diverted to Poluo Province... at least in the eyes of the high command of the Southern Legion, their entire plan was flawless.
As long as their troops could control Potato Harbor, the entire Poluo Sea could become the Southern Legion’s backyard!
On the other side, the operation codenamed "Guillotine" was also silently in progress.
At the same time Greg was heading to the No. 1 Settlement to develop his network, another formidable warrior of the Southern Legion, Wyatt Chilarch, arrived at the border of Haiye Province and Yue Ma Province—a place situated among the ruins in the mountains.
Here lay the old site of Rock Mountain City, about a hundred kilometers from the coastline, and roughly the same distance to the Alliance’s No. 10 Settlement.
Two centuries ago, this was a prosperous coastal city, but now it was nothing more than a skeleton of rusted steel and some patches of pockmarked concrete boxes.
The entire area of Rock Mountain City was not large, similar to West State City by the lake, and its urban planning was mainly for leisure and vacation, so it didn’t have as many skyscrapers as Qingquan City.
In the previous Torch War, the corporation’s 101st Mountain Division was stationed here, but they withdrew shortly after the war.
With the retreat of order, it quickly became a paradise for Mutants and Looters.
"That’s it up ahead... there’s no road we can take, we’ll have to park here and proceed on foot."
The driver, who turned off the engine, respectfully looked to Wyatt, seated in the back, and said.
"Hmm, this will do."
Wyatt compared the contours on the map with the nearby terrain, nodded, succinctly said a word, and then, along with two other exoskeleton-wearing aides, alighted from the vehicle.
As the two vehicles parked, two box trucks following behind also stopped one after another, with two exoskeleton-wearing soldiers and two "big guys" armed to the teeth in black metal getting off.
Within the Legion, these physically exceptional Weilante people were typically those who had failed in awakening.
The unstable fragments embedded in their DNA granted them superhuman strength and resilience, allowing them to fight like Mutants, ignoring pain and wounds.
The Eastern Legion usually assigned them directly to Sweeping Groups, serving as the main force in large-scale battles. However, in the Southern Legion, the Sweeping Group’s role is mainly special forces, and these big men are often equipped with expensive implants and assigned to places outside of the front line as needed.
Especially in enemy areas.
Powerful and unyielding, they are like walking nuclear bombs, often capable of unleashing combat power equivalent to many full ten-man squads all on their own.
Unlike Greg, who belonged to the Army Intelligence Bureau, Wyatt and his subordinates were part of the main staff of the Southern Legion, with the rank of Chilarch.
Because of his military background, he was not only skilled in intelligence work, but also had a knack for operational command.
The West Sail Port massacre, previously orchestrated by the main staff, was one in which he participated.
During the subsequent Anush uprising, the battle plan acquired by Anush and the old part of the Grey Wolf Army supporting Absek was also one that he helped craft.
It is no exaggeration to say that Anush’s capture of Tiandu within two weeks was at least one-third due to this man, whom Anush never met face to face.
Even if Anush himself was in the dark until he was shot on the throne.
And now, to open a second front against the Alliance, the Southern Legion’s main staff sent Wyatt to Haiye Province to conspire against the Alliance Managers.
The risks of the entire plan were foreseeable. Once the Managers were deceased, they would undoubtedly face the Alliance’s mad retaliation, with minimal chance of escape.
However, for the Legion, for the great success of the "Tsunami" operation, and for His Marshal and eventual victory, he didn’t care about personal sacrifice.
As the group entered Rock Mountain City’s territory, greedy and covetous eyes lurking in the shadows had already noticed the unexpected guests.
Most of them were Looters who wandered to this area following the footprints of migrating survivors.
The Alliance deceived the sheep from under their noses with broadcasts and hunted them in the wilderness, prompting them to hide in city ruins far from settlements.
The influence of the Alliance temporarily did not reach here, so they built nests in the shadow of the Alliance’s heels.
All passing survivors or Commercial Teams became their targets of robbery. Sometimes, they would even cobble together engines to build a small boat and rob merchant ships at sea.
And the loot was often sold to Black Market Merchants, using the earned silver coins for supplies.
The Alliance never ceased pursuing, blocking, and suppressing them, but like trying to step on their own shadow, the Looters, present since the War Construction Committee era, had never been eliminated by any Survivor Forces.
As long as there were no-master lands lacking order, they grew like weeds.
However, it is worth mentioning that the Alliance’s crackdown on Looters was indeed rare on this land.
It was precisely because of the Alliance’s continuous suppression that the Looters, whose living space was continuously compressed, loathed those meddlesome Blue Groundhogs.
When Wyatt and his group stepped into Rock Mountain City, the local Looters mistook them for Residents of the refuge upon seeing their equipment.
After all, in these Looters’ understanding, only Residents of the refuge would equip themselves with a bunch of expensive and cumbersome implants.
As for the Legion?
Most Looters from Yue Ma Province had never even heard of them, even though their ranks of Centurions and Chilarchs were essentially copied from the Legion.
Sensing the threat from the shadows of the ruins, a big guy moved in front of Wyatt, shielding him with a steel body like a Copper wall and Iron Wall.
"Ahead, threat."
Listening to the humming beneath the heavy steel, Wyatt smiled faintly, not paying attention to his subordinate’s warning.
"That means we’re in the right place."
After he finished speaking, he gestured for his subordinates to step aside, and shouted towards the desolate steel-concrete ruins before him.
"Do you want to be cowards all your life, rot in this godforsaken rat hole, or be brave for once, charge into those so-called civilized people’s houses, loot their treasures, seize their wives and daughters, and grab a lifetime’s worth of wealth!"
His booming voice echoed among the ruins, but no voice responded to him.
Wyatt wasn’t discouraged; instead, he raised his volume and continued shouting.
"Think carefully, or go home and find a mirror, look at your pathetic bear-like self. The Alliance treats you like cockroaches, driving you everywhere, and your method is to hide in a ruin. I can responsibly tell you, if you can’t unite and be tough once, sooner or later, even the places to hide will be gone!"
"At least now, the Alliance is pinned down on the western battlefield, giving you a tiny bit of hope for a counterattack—"
Before his speech was finished, a figure suddenly jumped down from the ruins.
The guy’s physique was robust, like a cheetah, but his hair was messy, like it was infested with fleas.
Additionally, his wrinkled skin resembled a fur-stripped hyena.
And what was even more nauseating was his blackened teeth, as if they hadn’t been brushed in years.
Watching the group standing before the ruins with vigilance, the man let out a low growl at the lead, Wyatt.
"Who are you."
All the soldiers standing beside Wyatt furrowed their brows simultaneously, except for Wyatt, whose expression remained unchanged.
"Wyatt, Chilarch of the Army, tell me your name."
"Claw, Thousands of leaders of the Cannibal Tribe."
The man stared intently at Wyatt, then shifted his gaze to the big guy next to him, unabashedly displaying the raw greed in his eyes.
Wyatt didn’t mind, simply sizing up the man named Claw before nodding approvingly.
"Claw... that’s a good name. I’ve already thought of a suitable prosthesis for you."
As he spoke, he pulled out a holographic computer pen, tapping it twice with his index finger.
Pale blue light quickly emerged, depicting a warrior with claws attached to his arms.
The little holographic figure startled Claw, but he was soon captivated by the mechanical design, unable to take his eyes off it.
"...How can I get it."
Seeing Claw’s greedy gaze, Wyatt bluntly said.
"It’s simple, just do the work for us."
Claw wasn’t ambiguous, understanding that those seeking work with the Looter mostly had one purpose.
"Who to kill?"
Wyatt smiled as he spoke.
"Alliance Manager."
Upon hearing this, Claw’s pupils contracted sharply, his face noticeably frightened.
Seeing the fear behind his gaze, Wyatt patiently continued.
"He’s just one person, while we are a group. We won’t let you act alone; we’ll provide you weapons, help you draft plans, and even fight alongside you."
"And all you need is to muster the courage to stand with us; leave the rest to us."
Upon hearing these promises, Claw’s gaze finally steadied, the faint hint of fear soon replaced by greed.
"You’ve got quite an appetite... wanting to eliminate that guy, you’d better be prepared for war with the settlement."
"Then let’s go to war."
Wyatt looked at him.
"Tell me your answer."
Claw’s face displayed a cruel smile, then without hesitation, he nodded his head.
"Do it! Done! But you must give us weapons and ammunition! Just claws alone aren’t enough; at least arm equipment for two to three thousand people... if you can produce them, not only will the Cannibal Tribe listen to you, but every tribe in the city will listen to you!"
Wyatt’s face showed a satisfied smile.
Though the number was a bit small, it was enough.
The target of the "Guillotine" operation was merely the Manager; a real battle was the work of the "Tsunami."
The Alliance certainly wouldn’t expect this "assassination" to be an operation involving thousands.
And when they finally react, it would be too late.
Looking at the bright-eyed Claw, Wyatt smiled and extended his right hand.
"Done."