World-saving Plan: The Only Savior
Chapter 406 - 290: The 7th Fleet

Chapter 406: Chapter 290: The 7th Fleet

Outside the tent, by the Seven-star Lake, a group of people had gathered around. In the center of them, a man lay on his back. He was drenched in lake water and had already lost consciousness; two medical soldiers were helping him with cardiopulmonary resuscitation.

"Is that Kando? Good Lord, what on earth has happened to him? How did he end up like this..."

Off to the side, some people couldn’t help but start murmuring quietly among themselves.

"Don’t know, but it looks really bad. Wasn’t he leading the team to investigate that thing? How could it have turned out this way, damn it, what exactly are we fighting against..."

"Heh, don’t you know by now? Otherwise, why do you think they’ve recruited us to come here in such an unusual manner? To put it bluntly, we’re just stones they use to pave the way."

A warrior snorted coldly, as if he had anticipated such situations.

The others turned to look at him, and a companion asked curiously, "Hank, if you knew it was like this, why did you join in the first place?"

Upon hearing this, Hank’s face lost its disdain, revealing a hint of helplessness, "What does it matter if I know? Aren’t we all just selling our lives anyway? How much better is it on the battlefields of Africa than here? Besides, they pay well, and if it wasn’t for Little Tommy’s treatment..."

He paused mid-sentence, his gaze drifting towards the direction of the camp, as he slowly closed his mouth.

"What are you all crowding around here for! Do you have any idea of your identities? Get back to your posts immediately!"

John arrived. He was already in a rush, but seeing the group of mercenaries gathered around to spectate only infuriated him more. He immediately started rebuking the crowd loudly.

Chastened by his words, everyone scattered like birds and beasts, hastily returning to their posts, which caused John to burst out in rage again, incessantly scolding them for their lack of discipline and not even resembling soldiers.

Actually, after a month of training and acclimation, the performance of these mercenaries was originally deemed passable.

But as the outdoor exploration missions went on for a while and the restraint of the environment lessened, these guys gradually revealed their former habits and characters, which greatly angered John.

However, anger was of no use now, as there was an even bigger trouble awaiting his attention.

"Rona, what’s the situation? Kando is alright, isn’t he?"

John approached and inquired about the specific condition from the medical soldier.

The soldier nodded his head while his hands did not stop moving: "Commander, the situation has stabilized, there’s no life-threatening danger; all that’s left is to wait for him to come to."

This news finally allowed John to breathe a sigh of relief.

No way around it, not to mention Kando was a soldier he had trained himself, but for a commander like him, whenever there was a casualty among his troops, it could lead to all sorts of troublesome issues afterwards, from disability benefits to condolence money, each had the potential to be a reason his superiors could use to come after him.

Until now, even though things were developing in the direction he least wanted to see, John still clung to that sliver of hope, fooling himself with a beautiful dream.

He hoped that it was all just an accident, that Kando had simply fallen into the water by mistake during the mission, which led to his current situation—although he knew how slim that possibility was.

"Cough—ugh!"

A sharp gasp sounded, and Kando suddenly opened his eyes. He sat up abruptly, spat out some of the lake water that he had in his mouth and nose, and then lay back down again.

"Kando! Are you alright? What happened? Why are you back alone, where are the others?"

John was the first to go forward and ask about the situation, his deep inner tension evident as he spoke.

"Ugh... Jo, John... is that you...?"

Kando gradually regained consciousness, and his thoughts slowly became clearer.

"Yes, I’m sorry... we encountered a formidable enemy, the monster was obviously much bigger than the ones we’d seen before... Its speed was just too fast, it caught up with us in the blink of an eye, easily smashing the speedboat to pieces, it was horrifying..."

Kando spoke haltingly, and John listened with a chill in his heart.

In the end, he clenched his teeth and started to inquire about the others.

"What about the others? Why haven’t I seen them return?"

Kando suddenly paused, and his complexion worsened.

"Andrew is dead, Hawke is dead, Jason is dead... We fell into the water in the subsequent attack, if they haven’t come back then, I’m afraid..."

John felt as if he’d plunged into an icy abyss, all the slim hopes he’d harbored were dashed, and thoughts of promotion and fortune vanished like smoke.

Although these men were temporarily chosen from among mercenaries, the significant casualties now presented were something he, as their commander, could not avoid being held accountable for.

"Damn it!"

John punched the ground hard with clenched fist, his anger uncontainable; he wished he could immediately lead a team into the lake and kill that creature.

However, with the precedent of the second squad, he naturally wouldn’t repeat such a foolish act.

If he really sent in several more teams, then he’d be facing more than just a missed promotion.

He immediately ordered the medics to take Kando back for treatment, and, after the latter regained his strength in the afternoon, John approached him to understand the details of the mission.

...

On another front, at the eastern landing area of Rebirth Island, inside the main coastal base of the Mi Army’s Seventh Fleet.

A report was placed on the desk of a command room.

This report came from John at the front, using the short-range wireless base stations they had laid out along the way, transmitting encrypted signals layer by layer to the rear.

This method of signal transmission was a relic from wars decades ago, now seen as entirely outdated by contemporary standards.

Yet, it was this very antiquity that proved especially useful now.

Unfortunately, these makeshift wireless signal relays were costly and difficult to establish. The reason they didn’t use radar to receive long-wave signals was quite simple.

First, in this sea area where large warships couldn’t enter, trying to transport large equipment with some of the existing sail ships used for training was undoubtedly very challenging.

Second, within this expanse of islands, although machines could function again, the long-wave radio signals suffered severe interference, rendering them unusable, hence John’s team utilizing the older short-wave method for communication.

At this moment, in the command room, a middle-aged man in crisp military uniform was reading the intelligence just sent from the front. His brows were furrowed, obviously troubled by the contents of the report.