Cyber Era Witch -
Chapter 651 - 547 Battle Deployment
Chapter 651: Chapter 547 Battle Deployment
The Baraya moved through the air, intent on sinking three Nestor warships.
On board were 230 combat aircraft and 100 military shuttle machines, with a crew of 12,000, including eight Battle Witches. In addition, there was one Reality Manipulator, who was more powerful than the Baraya itself.
"Huang Feng."
They had prepared battle plans and countermeasures for the potentially powerful Witches of Nestor Corporation, whom the intelligence department at Black Fire Innovation had labeled with codes such as "Spearman," "Teleporter," and "Destroyer." As for the real identities of the last two, Black Fire Innovation was crystal clear—it had to be 101 and 102.
Nestor Corporation had abducted two vital specimens from the ranks of the Children of Phantom Light, an act that Black Fire Innovation could not easily dismiss.
Baraya had been preparing for battle day and night, waiting for the opportunity to confront Nestor Corporation.
To meet this warship battle, to play the Black Fire Innovation’s victory symphony to the whole world.
As the Children of Phantom Light, heavily invested in by Black Fire Innovation, 101 and 102 carried numerous potential test materials for recovery. As formal Combat Witches, they would certainly not miss this military exercise, they would join the warship troops for coordinated training, preparing for future transoceanic expedition actions.
"This is our chance... to defeat the ever-victorious Nestor Corporation, to elevate our prestige, and also to snatch back 101 and 102..." Rolo whispered, "...you must use your magic power to tear their fleet apart."
Huang Feng envisioned herself using Command Reality to annihilate a fleet in her mind’s eye, and although she didn’t want to be an enemy of Nestor Corporation, the idea of ripping apart one or two warships was quite intriguing. If she could command reality, then reality was her slave.
"The only problem is, what will I get in return?" Huang Feng sat up.
"To be fueled by the fire..."
At these words, unease stirred in Huang Feng’s heart. Legend had it that Black Fire Innovation’s most powerful Witches all underwent the searing of Blackfire, becoming bearers of the black flames.
"...to become like you."
"...do you remember the last time I took you to see the black flames..." Rolo stood in a corner of the cramped cabin. His huge frame almost took up half the room compared to the frail Huang Feng, like an adult compared to a young girl.
Just thinking of the black flames made Huang Feng shiver uncontrollably. She trembled ceaselessly on her small bed, struggling with the memory of the pain that the flames had caused her. The boiling heat had cleaved her spirit from her psyche, like an invisible saw cutting through her body, searching for the source of her magic power.
She couldn’t help screaming, pounding at Rolo’s head with her fists, creating feeble knocks on the tough outer layer of his helmet.
"Monster!" Huang Feng shouted.
Monster—monster—the echo lingered.
The soldiers of the Blackfire warship in the hallway exchanged glances, the sound almost awakening the fear within their hearts.
"...that strand of flame you saw at the headquarters... it’s just a sliver we separated from the black flames... hiss... huff..." Rolo looked at Huang Feng.
"To become like you! Disgusting!"
"The flames beneath this armor can also sing, can also dance. What exactly are you dissatisfied with?" Rolo raised his arm, the metallic glove hiding the sound of crackling fierce flames.
"I don’t want to be fuel! I want A40 to protect me!" Huang Feng screamed.
"There’s no need for A40, we’ll protect you... you facilitated physics experiments, made enemy intelligence personnel surrender, resurrected the dead, changed the outcomes of battles, created super soldiers, sunk many fleets... you’ve brought in 300 billion in returns for Black Fire Innovation..."
Huang Feng furiously beat Rolo.
He was merely a flame, wrapped in impenetrable heavy armor, enduring Huang Feng’s painful blows.
"...Idiot Huang Feng... idiot A40..." Rolo said contemptuously.
"Only idiots would attract each other." Huang Feng’s roar grew louder, her voice tearing her vocal cords until it became hoarse.
"Why do you... love A40 so much?"
Rolo endured her beating, while Huang Feng went into increasingly violent spasms.
"Only in this way—I wouldn’t have to be the Witch, a madwoman, a monster—I could be A40’s wife!"
Hearing her own voice for the last time, Huang Feng was instantly enveloped in a rose-colored illusion—Huang Feng as A40’s bride. She sweetly imagined how she would take care of A40 after their marriage. She would wipe the blood and grime from its casing, mend its tattered coat, tidy its appearance, and fix scratches. She could build a little house to live in with A40; it would go to work during the day, and Huang Feng would be willing to hang clothes on the balcony. At night, they would reunite, sit at the same table sharing their hearts, and then make the bed, awaiting a beautiful new day.
Huang Feng was enchanted by her own delusion, a blissful expression emerging on her face. She stopped screaming, causing discomfort among the soldiers in the corridor outside. Huang Feng sat on the bed, then fell straight back.
Rolo took off Huang Feng’s shoes, moved her feet onto the bed, and placed her facing the bed. Then he turned off the light, walked out of the cabin, and locked the door.
"How is she?" the armored guard at the door asked uneasily.
"...In three hours, double the food provision," Rolo said quietly, "be careful when feeding her, as she might bite off your fingers."
"Yes."
Rolo glanced at the time.
In nine hours, the Baraya would engage Nestor Corporation in a warship duel.
This might become the largest ship-sinking operation. How could Nestor Corporation stand a chance when Huang Feng could command reality? After defeating the weaker Nestor Corporation, it would be Xia’s turn.
Rolo arrived at the warship barracks, where twenty members of the Invisible Imperial Guard were on standby. They were wearing more advanced armor and now rose uniformly, saluting Rolo, the retired veteran of the Imperial Guard.
"...Eliminate the enemy warship fleet in one go, bring down the ’Spearman,’ retrieve 101 and 102. Once Nestor Corporation is seen to be beaten so miserably... Xia will also back down," Rolo briefly explained the main objectives.
"Understood!" The Invisible Imperial Guard stood in neat formation, like a wall of Phantom shadows.
Rolo nodded slowly.
...The weak entrepreneurs only play with their bubble-like financial games, frightened by the unavoidable great collapse. But Black Fire Innovation will show them... what is the true essence of world domination.
On the other hand, in the suburbs of Sato City.
The squad members acted separately, each completing their tasks. Rinne was in charge of communications; she, Lu Jing, Seeking Shadow, A999, and Masasuke Hazuki were also preparing to raid the military base; Hosoda Yoshiyuki and Snowball went to the suburbs to gather workers; Jiro covered Qianxue and Nidelaide as they set up a retreat camp.
Hosoda Yoshiyuki had to grab something to eat first, then find a quiet place to sleep—the lumber camp he saw earlier seemed a good choice.
"Why choose to follow me?" Hosoda Yoshiyuki looked back at Snowball.
"Afraid of being used as human shield by Miss Rinne..." Snowball shivered in fear.
Arriving at the lumber camp, Hosoda Yoshiyuki surveyed the area. It was roughly 3 a.m., and there were hardly any guards; just a sentry at each of the two entrances, one to the south and one to the north.
Snowball scurried around, sniffing everywhere.
"Found anything?" Hosoda Yoshiyuki asked, as he thought of the stray dog near his home when he was a child—it had been lured and killed by a wandering person.
Snowball ran to the wasteland about 100 meters away, digging around with its front paws and soon unearthed some bones. Hosoda Yoshiyuki frowned and inspected them, finding dead people’s skeletons all around.
This was a mass grave.
Hosoda Yoshiyuki squatted down, inspecting the ragged clothes on the skeletons. There were probably 200 to 300 people who died here. The mere thought of the brutality filled him with uncontrollable rage.
"I’ll avenge you," Hosoda Yoshiyuki exclaimed, grabbing a handful of earth, clenching it tightly, and then sprinkling it on the skeletons.
The island had seen no foreign enemies for over half a year, and all animals had been hunted. The camp guards were not vigilant, only on the alert on nights with a full moon for the Fish Fiends; otherwise, they were quite lax.
Hosoda Yoshiyuki extended his right arm and popped out a small-caliber sniper rifle.
He attached a silencer to the muzzle of the sniper rifle and switched his vision to night mode, firing swiftly, taking out isolated sentinels, watching their figures fall in his line of sight.
After clearing the entrance guards, he slowly stepped into the barracks.
Deep in the night, when sleep was heaviest, the snoring of the soldiers was continuous, loud even through the doors. Hosoda Yoshiyuki felt like he was in a factory surrounded by countless roaring engines.
He flicked out a knife from his arm, armed and murderous intent surged within him.
Throat-slitting, heart-stabbing, headshots—the sleeping soldiers were silently eliminated one by one by Hosoda Yoshiyuki; blood flowed between the bunks.
Hosoda Yoshiyuki heard footsteps—it seemed a soldier had just returned from the bathroom. He left the soldier he had just killed and stepped outside, where he saw another soldier walking drowsily, oblivious to his comrades being systematically slaughtered.
So, he ghosted behind the half-asleep soldier and chopped off his head with his knife; the man’s body kept walking as the head rolled off the neck.
Hosoda Yoshiyuki swiftly grabbed the soldier’s sleeve and quietly laid him on the ground.
He believed that killing these brutal garrison troops was a meritorious deed, his prosthetic limbs coated in blood.
The last room remained locked. After taking a deep breath, Hosoda Yoshiyuki forcefully broke in, then slaughtered the bemused and astonished dozen soldiers within.
"Who is making noise?"
"Waaaah—"
"There’s an enemy..."
"Help!"
Hosoda Yoshiyuki dived into the center, slashing left and right, cutting down every last enemy he encountered. Although this time the commotion had been large, there were no survivors left.
Job done.
Hosoda Yoshiyuki retracted the knife into his arm, feeling a satisfying sense of cleaning up messes. The stench of blood was heavy around him, something to which Hosoda Yoshiyuki had long been accustomed.
"Does murdering feel pleasurable, sir?" Snowball followed up.
"When taking a life becomes as easy as turning your hand, you... stop caring so much."
After eliminating the guards, Hosoda Yoshiyuki left the bloody barracks and entered the supply warehouse. Most of the items were sealed in crates, with no indication of what was inside.
Snowball’s scent module detected boxes storing food. Hosoda Yoshiyuki sliced one open with his knife to find it packed with canned goods.
His eyes lit up and he quickly took fruit cocktail cans, soy pork cans, and luncheon meat to eat, hoping to satisfy his hunger. Delicious food slowly converted into strength.
After eating, he lay down on one of the crates to sleep.
"When dawn breaks, the workers will find they’re free," Hosoda Yoshiyuki said, "The garrison is all dead by my hand."
"But even so, do they really have the courage to rise up in rebellion?" Snowball did not quite understand.
"Slaves are nobler and stronger than masters," whispered Hosoda Yoshiyuki, "for slaves have the chance and the hope of turning the tables. Masters forever live in fear, dreading being killed by their slaves and even more the prospect of becoming slaves themselves."
"I see..." Snowball nodded.
"We are all slaves to different extents, oppressed by the material world in various forms, thus yearning to rebel, longing for a New World free of torment. We all think... though we cannot reach it, our hearts aspire to it..."
Snowball crouched on the ground, emitting a simulated snuffling sound.
Hosoda Yoshiyuki found himself with a loyal audience at last.
He murmured and mumbled, talking about his own affairs, others’ affairs, about the past, present, and future. The enemy’s blood dripped from his arm, and as he spoke tiredly, his eyes slowly closed, and he fell asleep.
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