Apocalypse Forecast-Chapter 650 - 541 Negotiation_1

With Raymond’s bombardment, this sudden war finally came to an end.

Despite that, Huai Shi and his forces still could not stop the Colonel and his troops from retreating.

If possible, I really wanted to annihilate them completely and leave them here for good, Huai Shi thought.

But from the beginning of the war until now, he had felt a faint sense of a death crisis emanating from the Colonel. To be cautious, he hadn’t utilized the eager The Fly King. It was also hard to know what kind of ace the other side still had up their sleeve.

Therefore, although regrettable, they could only let them go.

Huai Shi watched the Colonel’s neck disappearing into the darkness with regret, unable to help but sigh.

We won, but it always feels like something is missing, he mused.

Soon, he began to have a headache. The price of getting too carried away during the battle was enduring the painful results when tallying up the losses.

Three Gargoyles had light injuries, and one had a serious injury. But a through-and-through wound didn’t mean much to Gargoyles. Once they cleaned the Curse off the bullets, consumed a large amount of metal, and rested for about a week, they would be fine.

The Undead Army had eleven lightly wounded, six seriously injured, and three casualties.

Still within an acceptable range.

The reason these Snake-men were part of the Undead Army was their tenacious life force. As long as they had a breath left, they could shed their skin through a ritual, thereby getting past the critical period. Moreover, with medical treatment from the Ivory Tower, there was basically nothing much to worry about.

In the Snake-men’s view, death wasn’t really a concept that existed. They had special glands in their bodies that could retain memories. As long as the body was retrieved, the glands preserved promptly, and taken back to the tribe, the great Shaman could use them to revive precious experiences and memories in another member’s body.

They did not feel sorrow for death, nor did they fear it. Instead, they exhibited a kind of cruelty and indifference characteristic of literal cold-blooded animals. As long as the Sacrificial act was of value, they wouldn’t mind.

The Rat-men, however, had it rough. Although they were hardy, they did not have the Snake-men’s miraculous regenerating Talent. Of the eight hundred Rat-men, nearly three hundred perished, which was already extremely lucky. Most were reduced to ashes. The number of seriously wounded was unknown; they were all saved by emergency treatment devices provided by the Department of Justice’s Iron Crystal Throne.

They’re precious cannon fodder, Huai Shi thought. Take them back, modify them, and they can be reused.

After all, these Rat-men were unbelievably resilient and didn’t have any sort of rejection reaction. By crowdfunding and patching things up here and there, they could have surgery and then continue to live actively. Even the most famous Dead Black Corps among the Rat-men was composed of old soldiers who had undergone numerous stitching surgeries.

Huai Shi already had some ideas and leads for their next modifications. When I return, I can chat with the Alchemists about it.

There wasn’t much to say about Huai Shi’s own Crow Flock. As long as the Dream Cage was intact, reducing their numbers wasn’t a problem, and they hadn’t suffered any losses either. After this battle, they seemed to have grown a little. At least, that’s what Soloist’s Stigma seemed to feel. They were still lacking some conditions to truly become a large flock, but all these could be studied in detail tomorrow.

Now, the most disconcerting problem facing Huai Shi was right in front of him.

"Huh?" Raymond, eating instant noodles just made with hot water from a truck, looked at him blankly. "Why are you looking at me like that? Did I do something unnecessary?"

"You had artillery; why didn’t you fire it earlier?" Huai Shi rolled his eyes.

"You didn’t give an order, and I thought you had another plan... Turns out you really didn’t know." Raymond shrugged with a shameless expression. Seeing the displeasure in Huai Shi’s eyes, he put down his noodles and sighed, begging for mercy. "I’m just kidding, trying to lighten the mood. Don’t be mad.

"Seriously though, who would have thought when installing that thing that it would come in handy? It was just for emergencies..."

With that, he opened the rear door of the truck for Huai Shi to see the fuel gauge.

"You see? Driving all the way here, it burned less than one percent of the fuel. That one shot just now completely drained the Alchemy fuel from my two auxiliary tanks. This truck is essentially for hauling cargo for me now. If it relies on firing, what’s the use of one shot? Plus, it needs to preheat for five minutes. I can’t exactly ask you to draw their Firepower to create an opportunity for me, can I?"

As the truck door opened, the smell of a burnt dashboard wafted into Huai Shi’s nostrils. The driver’s seat was hot enough to steam buns.

Raymond probably cooked his noodles on the steering wheel, Huai Shi thought.

He suspected the gun didn’t even have a cooling system installed.

"See what I mean?" Raymond sighed. "Luo Su’s task for me was to be able to help you escape when necessary. What happened just now was me taking initiative on my own; please don’t spread the word about it. There are still more than twenty installments left on my truck’s loan. If they cut my salary, I’m finished. Here, have some noodles, have some noodles."

As he spoke, he skillfully served Huai Shi a bowl of noodles with an egg, asking him to act as if nothing had happened.

This overwhelming sense of being a corporate drone momentarily made Huai Shi feel a bit nostalgic.

I wonder how that brother in the gray suit is doing now, he mused. Ever since we parted on the Group Star, we haven’t seen each other. If only I had asked for his contact information back then.

By the time Huai Shi realized he had been distracted, he had already finished the bowl of noodles. Raymond, pot in hand, approached eagerly, as if ready to make more if Huai Shi wasn’t full. Huai Shi really didn’t have the heart to pursue the issue of this good-for-nothing slacker—this Wang Ba—anymore.

Besides, the guy had already confessed his identity; Huai Shi had to give Luo Su some face regardless.

To reciprocate my teacher’s devoted care, I can only repay him by maxing out his credit Card a few more times, Huai Shi thought wryly.

He put down his bowl and walked toward the fissure beneath the refinery.

After about ten minutes, they finally completed the sequence code verification with the Exploration Team members in the underground defense fortifications and confirmed each other’s identities. When Huai Shi first went down, he was nearly shot as an enemy. Only now, at the end of the corridor marked with burns and explosions, did the battered iron door finally creak open.

August, half of his face charred black, stood behind the door. Seeing it was Huai Shi, he finally relaxed and lowered his gun. He slumped in the corner, unable to get up.

The two contingents of the Exploration Team, a total of sixteen people defending this place, had actually managed to withstand the fierce "Offensive" of the Ivy League. The Power of several Border Relics had naturally played an indispensable role. However, everyone here was already injured. August was so seriously hurt that it was questionable how he still had the strength to stand.

"Don’t move yet," Huai Shi said, bending down. He inspected August’s wounds, first sealing the most dreadful external injuries with Silver Blood Potion for emergency treatment. Finally, he called upon the Power of the Mountain Ghost to enhance his recovery.

After returning to the Iron Crystal Throne, the slight wood-transformation of his internal organs can be resolved with other Alchemy Potions, Huai Shi planned. For now, keeping him alive is the priority.

After finishing the treatment and turning around, Huai Shi noticed another corpse behind the door, still dressed in an Exploration Team uniform. The fatal wound was a gunshot to the back of the head.

"What happened here?" Huai Shi frowned.

"Just a spy, nothing to worry about," August said with a cold laugh, pressing on the knife wound on his chest that had nearly split his heart. He propped himself up. "How is the Iron Crystal Throne? Didn’t you receive our warning not to send support?"

"Relax, the Iron Crystal Throne is perfectly fine. It’s just Raymond and me who came. Right when I came in, I heard over the communicator that both sides have started negotiations." Huai Shi helped him from the ground onto a stretcher. "Rest easy and sleep a bit. When you wake up, you’ll be back in the Iron Crystal Throne infirmary. Everyone has worked hard."

"It’s our duty." August wanted to say more, but the sedative took effect. He closed his eyes and sank into a deep sleep.

Huai Shi then pushed open the final door, walking towards the trigger point of this war and its greatest spoil—the Town of Dusk’s sub-control center.

「Meanwhile, above a wasteland scorched by bombardment.」

On the devastated battlefield, the fierce exchange of Firepower between the two sides had come to a halt. In the sky, the enormous Airship had lowered its altitude, facing off against the Iron Crystal Throne from a distance. On its hull, the emblem of the ’Eye of Nightmare’ from the Homeless Cemetery gleamed with a cold red light. This notorious, or rather infamous, mercenary group had been hired by the Ivy League and was the main force behind this "Offensive."

The Iron Crystal Throne, however, stood unscathed. Under the Mystic Ritual of the Great Grandmaster, no Firepower, no matter how terrifying, could penetrate the Alchemy Matrix he had personally created. Neither side could do much to the other.

On the bridge of the Airship, Michel coldly opened communications.

"This is Michel of the Ivy League," he stated. "Who is speaking on the other side? Let Mikhail talk to me."

"Michel?" A voice full of exhaustion and devoid of any energy came through the communication, causing Michel to frown unhappily. "I knew it. You’re the only one troublesome enough to pull something like this at a time like this."

The Great Grandmaster sighed, his voice a soft murmur. "Forget it. What’s the point? War is the most meaningless act. Whatever you gain, it all ends in nothingness. When you close your eyes and death comes, everything you’ve gained slips into the void. What would you have me say to you?"

"..." Michel’s expression twitched.

"We are buried in the earth, and our Souls will fall into Hell. What remains in the end is but a tombstone-like husk. At that point, what does victory or defeat matter? Nothing at all..."

In the silence, the numb voice continued with sighs. "Once life is destined for death, all values ultimately lead to naught. This brief struggle to cling to life has already been too long, let alone the eternal time after death. Michel, a little thought should make you understand, right? Among all people, you were once the closest to becoming a Great Grandmaster. Surely you can understand my thoughts—"

"Enough!" Michel exploded in rage, yelling into the communicator, "Couldn’t you have given him his Potion before letting him speak? Mikhail, to what extent must you humiliate me? He’s a Great Grandmaster, for crying out loud! Stop this disgraceful, Ugly display!"

Faint sounds of chaos could be heard from the other end.

"Humiliation?" The Great Grandmaster sighed dejectedly. "I’m just sincerely discussing things with you. Why don’t you understand? Humiliation, praise, they’re all just superficialities. Can you truly know what’s in someone else’s heart? Sometimes, we don’t even know what’s in our own. There are even people who parade before me every day looking like they’re about to seize power and usurp my position... It’s too tiring, Michel. Just breathing is already... MMPH MMPH MMPH..."

It sounded like someone had covered his mouth. Then, the sound of gurgling water came through, and the communication abruptly cut off.

But not long after, amidst bursts of static and electrical noise, the sound of metal grinding against metal suddenly rang out.

"Long time no see, Michel." A deep, stern voice, filled with disdain and contempt, came through. "—Are you here to grovel before me?"