Chapter Forty-One: Chaos

At this moment, Carter seemed like a thief stalking the night, ready to throw a dark hood over the head of a hapless victim and drag them aside to do his work. But just as he prepared his hood in one hand and a brick in the other, his supposed prey turned around and pulled out a chainsaw… Staring now into the gaping barrel of a gun, Carter felt no better than if he were facing the spinning teeth of a chainsaw.

Who were these people?

As the chief of the Wildlands Alliance, Carter prided himself on his worldly experience, so his first instinct was that they must be reinforcements from the Blackstone Group. But almost immediately, he realized something was amiss. Never mind whether Blackstone even possessed such weapons as tanks—if they did, why hadn't they used them during the earlier battle, instead of showing up now, after everything was over? It made no sense. Moreover, these newcomers didn't look like the pampered soldiers of District Nine; rather, they resembled warriors from the wilds. Yet Carter, a veteran of the eastern wastelands, had never heard of these men…

Boom!

Before Carter could decide how to react, the answer arrived with a deafening blast. The 120mm main cannon spewed dazzling fire, and a shell shot forth, crashing toward Carter and his men. The explosion shattered the hard cement ground, sending fragments and metal shards flying in all directions, catching the Wildlands Alliance completely off guard. Three or four armored SUVs were overturned, and Carter's unprepared subordinates suffered heavy casualties. The lead armored vehicle, along with its occupants, went up in a fiery ball, and nearby cars were flipped and blown apart. Thick black smoke billowed skyward, flames raging and scattering.

"Damn it, those bastards! Fall back, fall back! RPGs! Blow that damned tank to pieces!"

Seeing his men decimated for no apparent reason, Carter was furious. Fortunately, his cautious nature had kept him at the rear, sparing him from the initial barrage. But even so, he wasn't about to let these mysterious fools escape unscathed. As he retreated, Carter barked orders, grateful he'd brought plenty of RPGs for just such an occasion. Warriors hefted their launchers, carefully taking aim from amid the ruins. In the next moment, a volley of white smoke streaked across the sky, striking the main battle tank head-on. But as the dust settled, the tank appeared unscathed, untouched by the attack. Worse still, it quickly swiveled its cannon and blasted another round at the RPG positions, sending several unlucky souls flying.

Damn it!

Glaring at the nearly invulnerable tank, Carter was at a loss. Most of his so-called armored SUVs were little more than modified vehicles, equipped with heavy machine guns for suppressive fire—enough for dealing with other wanderers or beasts on the wasteland, and if they couldn't win, they could at least escape. But faced with a tank, his little armored cars were useless.

What now?

As Carter pondered his options, heavy armored vehicles surged forward behind the tank. The lead vehicle bore a huge loudspeaker atop it, and amid an ear-piercing electric crackle, a man's voice boomed:

"Residents of District Nine, you are completely surrounded! From this moment on, I declare that District Nine and this node are under the rule of the Federal Parliament! Now I order all of you to disarm and surrender all weapons and equipment. We will arrange new lives and jobs for you, but any resistance will be met with lethal force! We accept no negotiations—anyone who dares oppose us faces only death! Glory to the Federation!"

"Screw your damned Federation!"

Carter clenched his teeth, cursing loudly. He'd never even heard of this so-called Federation. Before the “Great Cataclysm,” it was already fractured and chaotic—a worthless entity to the wasteland dwellers. For them, order meant nothing; they despised grandstanding powers like this. Freedom and living as one pleased mattered above all… As for survival? Mutation and death were inevitable—who cared?

"Fan out from both sides, attack those armored vehicles! Up front, lay down the anti-tank mines, everyone cover each other, hit them hard!"

As Carter barked orders, Ferrin leaned against the window, watching the scene unfold with a mysterious smile. He shrugged, turning his gaze to the screen before him.

[Doctor: Did you all hear that? Any thoughts?]
[Butcher: Damn it! I'm going to slaughter these idiots whose heads are full of donkey dung! What the hell—they dare act tough in front of us? I swear, I'll rip these morons' balls off, shove them down their throats with a sausage, and then they'll know who really calls the shots here!!]
[Emperor: Certainly not you.]
[Butcher: Old man, would it kill you to let me show off for once?]
[Emperor: I'm old, and you still steal my lines—think it’ll kill me?]
[Butcher: Ah hahaha… Old man, may you live as long as the East Sea and prosper like the Southern Mountains—still vigorous, still sharp! You could live another five hundred years!]
[Queen: Can we discuss the real issue? Where did they get tanks? As far as I remember, there’s no military base anywhere near here.]
[Doctor: They seem well-trained, not like the rabble out in the wilds, and their equipment is much too refined for upstarts.]
[Emperor: These damned pig-brained fools obviously came prepared. But just a few tanks—don’t tell me you can’t handle it! Whoever says they can’t, get lost now, don’t disgrace the Seven Titans!]
[Sailor: A man never admits defeat! Of course we can handle it—leave it to us, as long as they don’t go crazy and toss nukes, we’ll be fine! I’ve got action on my end too, gotta check it out.]
[Emperor: Doctor, what’s your take?]
[Doctor: The brave, noble Wildlands Alliance has decided to fight to the death. As a bystander, my job is just to quietly pass through—don’t shoot at me… I’ll deal with the trouble behind me first.]
[Emperor: No! You’re one of the Seven Titans! You must have the bearing of a Titan. What does that mean? If anyone dares step on our faces, we step on their entire family—including eight generations of ancestors! Even the dead, we’ll dig them up so they can die again! These idiots have come all this way to District Nine to cause trouble and think they can absorb us—I say they’re brain-dead from snorting Jet! I demand you wipe them out completely—men, vehicles, everything! Show your usual exterminator prowess! No mercy! I believe in you, young man, trust me—it’s the right thing to do.]
[Doctor: If you put it that way… doesn’t it sound like a decree? Want me to recite a poem for you?]
[Emperor: Hell no! You know I can't stand that stuff. All right, I know what you’re up to… private chat.]
[Queen: Damn! The Emperor’s making a dirty private PY deal with the Doctor——]

[“Queen” has been muted for one day by the administrator.]
[Emperor: Good, peace at last. Honestly, it’s not just me… never mind, it’s useless to talk about this. If you handle this, I’ll give you my favorite car!]
[Doctor: …You’re so generous?]
[Emperor: Truth is, that old thing isn’t much use to me anymore. You know, once Blackstone Group takes the node, I’ll be shifting focus here, and the company has already provided me with something better. It’d be a shame to lose this one, so I’ll just give it to you! Well? Will you do it?]
[Doctor: If you keep it honest, we can still be friends… Fine, I’ll reluctantly accept.]
[Emperor: Remember, make sure those little brats are covered in blood, piss, and shit, and die in terror and despair! I know you’re the best at this—leave it to you, I trust you!]

What a hassle…

Closing the group chat again, Ferrin sighed. While he bantered with the others, the battle outside had already erupted. With armored vehicles and tanks working together, the ragtag Wildlands warriors had little chance, though their main advantage was their fearlessness. Living day to day, with no future, they had plenty of ferocity. Their wild counterattack did cause trouble for the invaders—several armored vehicles were knocked out, causing minor casualties and slowing the advance.

But the Wildlands warriors could do no more. Once their armored SUVs were destroyed by the tanks, they began to retreat. Though fearless, they weren’t foolish enough to pit flesh and bone against a tank—everyone knew how that would end.

It was almost time to act.

Watching the tank roll slowly past beneath his window, Ferrin smiled, then reached out and snapped his fingers.

In the next moment, a misty fog began to rise, spreading in all directions…