the Xian Palace buzzed with anticipation. A high-profile media event had been hastily arranged: a press conference with the renowned Red Nation journalist, Veronica. She arrived with a small entourage, her presence radiating a calculated blend of charm and professionalism.
The initial exchanges were polite, bordering on perfunctory. Veronica opened with questions regarding the recently captured Red Nation spies, steering the conversation towards broader geopolitical concerns. Then, with a disarming smile, she shifted gears.
“Alam,” she began, her voice smooth and confident, “Red Nation’s stated intention is to increase the wealth of the region and recivilize Asia. Why do you resist allowing your own people to become richer?”
Alam coughed, composing himself before answering. “Alright… ahem. If Red Nation’s intention is to spread… civilization, then why do they monopolize vital technology? We need better farming technology, water purification, fertilizer, and heat generators. But no… they refuse to sell them to us. They only want to sell us expensive grain and unsustainable coal. If they truly want to help us, they would sell us the rod, not the fish…”
Veronica nodded, acknowledging his point, but quickly countered. “But isn’t that much better than just war? Do you see your population as mere meat shields to protect your oppressive regime?”
Alam’s left eye twitched almost imperceptibly. In the background, Fang and the other officers exchanged worried glances, hoping Alam would maintain his composure. He coughed again, taking a deep breath before speaking. “No. We value freedom more than slavery.”
Veronica smirked. “What is freedom to you?”
Alam tapped his lips thoughtfully. “Good question… Freedom is being free from another’s shackles, free from a cage, free from fear…” Alam then looked directly into her eyes. “Do you agree?”
Veronica nodded. “Last question, Emperor of China… What is your opinion of the Blood Khaganate? Their ancestors had a claim to the land you stand on now. Their ancestors, the Mongol Empire, brought prosperity and peace from the Korean Peninsula to the Levant. It was the Pax Mongolica, as the ‘Wikipedia Bible’ says. While you have no legitimacy in the first place—being from the Nusantara region and becoming a European mercenary—tell me, Alam… do you have the better moral ground?”
Alam sighed. “Do the Mongolians have the right to reclaim Iran and the Levant simply because their ancestors conquered that land? We must deconstruct the concept of Pax Mongolica, because it’s as absurd as claiming the Mongolians have a right to the Levant, or the British, or the Turks. We live in a multipolar world now. A world where colonization based on race or controlled by a few oligarchs has no place.”
Veronica smiled, a genuine smile this time. She thanked him for the interview.
After Veronica left, Yang and Fang approached Alam. “Congratulations, sir. We maintained our reputation in the eyes of the world,” Fang said.
Yang nodded. “If I were you, I might have punched her face, haha!”
The next day, Alam convened a war council with his seasoned commanders and generals to discuss the situation.
“Alright,” he said, taking charge. “Our enemy is trying to sow discord through bribery, blackmail, and propaganda. Anyone caught spreading rumors will lose their tongue.”
The commanders nodded in agreement, fully supportive of Alam's harsh measures. The Red Nation’s tactics couldn’t be ignored.
“But that’s not enough. We need to mitigate this asymmetric war,” Alam continued. “What do you suggest?”
Ideas flew around the room: increased surveillance, counter-propaganda efforts, and stricter controls on local populations were all proposed. The discussion was lively as they strategized how to handle the Red Nation's insidious plots.
“We must broadcast resilience to our territory,” Alam declared. “Our people need to be strong. We must survive when the Crescent Alliance attacks the Red Army. Vigilance is key!”
The generals nodded, fully on board with the plan.
“Any questions?” Alam asked, surveying the room.
A few murmured inquiries were raised, but for the most part, the strategy was clear. With the meeting concluded, Alam felt a renewed sense of purpose. The Wanderer Group was ready to face whatever came next.
Early February 2405
At the base, the news blared from the screen: “Alam hosts a meeting with China’s Warlords to unite against the Red Army threat! Welcome back to Witty World News, folks! Tonight, we’re diving into the heart of China, where the tea is hot and the warlords are even hotter! Can Alam unite these squabbling egos against the looming Red Army?”
Kirk glanced at Vance, intrigued. “So, what do you think about Alam’s warlord meet-up? Smart move or just a recipe for chaos?”
Vance sipped his drink, a wry smile curling his lips. “New allies mean new strength, but also more headaches. More people to manage, you know?”
Kirk nodded, contemplating the messiness of uniting so many strong personalities under Alam’s banner. “It’s going to be a circus. I can only imagine how hard it is for Alam to keep everyone in line.”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Just then, Mei breezed into the room, document in hand. “Alright, team. We have a new mission. We need to investigate the last faction resisting the True Horde in China—the Flying Dragons. We thought we’d defeated them, but rumors say they’re back and mingling with our citizens.”
Kirk’s expression turned serious as he read the document. “This is a big deal. We can’t let anyone blend in with our forces who might cause chaos.”
Vance quipped, “Ironically, we used the same trick to destroy their base before. So, what’s the plan, Mei?”
Mei’s confidence shone through. “We’ll track down the rumored Dragon base. Once we locate it, we can take it out. This is our chance for a significant win against the True Horde.”
“Let’s do this,” Vance agreed, enthusiasm bubbling.
“Let’s gather the team and discuss the plan,” Mei suggested, a slight smile on her face. “This mission is crucial.”
In the meeting room, the atmosphere was thick with the kind of quiet intensity only found among top-tier specialists. This wasn't your average strike team; this was the CAD—the Ctrl+Alt+Deletes—the solution for when everything else crashed. Mei, Vance, and Kirk welcomed their newest member: Razor, a hooded figure who exuded an air of quiet competence. He was Cyber-Brahmin, which, in their world, was basically hacker royalty.
Vance raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re the ghost in the machine we’ve heard so much about?”
Kirk eyed Razor curiously. Unlike the outgoing Light, Razor was all business, cool and detached. “Hey. Heard you’re the one who can open any digital door. We could really use your skills to bypass some firewalls when we get to Shanghai. Up for it?”
Razor met Kirk’s gaze, a hint of suspicion in his otherwise composed expression. “If it has a digital lock, I can pick it. Just point me at the target.”
Vance chuckled. “Good. Now, about these secret underwater passages in Shanghai…”
“Government access routes,” Razor explained. “Off-limits to the public. But there’s always a back door. Rumors say the gangs and smugglers know the way in.”
Vance's eyes lit up. “So, the True Horde is kept in the dark. This could get spicy! I wonder how Alam will react.”
Razor added, “If there are no access points, we can infiltrate the Shanghai police to steal their routes.”
Vance raised an eyebrow. “Infiltrate the police? Now that’s ambitious!” He looked at Kirk and Mei for their thoughts.
Kirk and Mei exchanged nods, embracing the challenge. “Razor, if anyone can pull this off, it’s you,” Kirk said, a determined glint in his eye.
With their mission set, the CAD team prepared for a dive into the murky depths of Shanghai, where secrets lurked beneath the surface and danger awaited at every turn. The game was on, and they were ready to play.
A day later, the CAD team had set up base in a rundown apartment just blocks away from their target: a police station in Shanghai.
Razor, the team’s hacker extraordinaire, was in his element, cracking the police station’s firewall with the finesse of a master locksmith. “A few more tries and I’ll be in,” he remarked, fingers flying over the keyboard. His prowess earned him newfound respect from the team.
Vance, leaning back in his chair, smirked. “The most I can do on a computer is play Minesweeper!”
Razor chuckled, turning to Kirk. “Oh yeah? Maybe you can try to beat my record. I once had a pretty high score.”
“Really? I’m not surprised,” Vance shot back. “You seem like the analytical type.”
Razor beamed at the compliment, his low-pitched voice brightening. “I am! I love puzzles, strategy games, and solving problems.”
“Good, because I used to love that too,” Vance replied, settling into the banter.
Meanwhile, Kirk and Mei roamed the city, gathering intel. Razor watched them leave, a smile creeping onto his face. Alone with his computer, he felt a sense of peace in the dark. It was just him and the screen, his sanctuary from the chaos outside.
Later, the CAD team regrouped.
“Alright, what did you find?” Kirk asked as they settled in.
They shared vital intel about the Flying Dragons, pinpointing their location and mapping the access routes to the underwater city. The team had everything they needed to plan their next move.
“Interesting… the entrance is near the sewer,” Vance remarked, raising an eyebrow. “No wonder it’s so secretive.”
Razor leaned in, eager to explain. “The sewer not only handles waste but also conceals essential facilities and secret entrances. It’s the most secure area in Shanghai, patrolled only by the police.”
“Can we disguise ourselves as officers?” Vance asked.
“Technically, yes. But it’s risky. The police are strict, and they have access codes only real officers can use. However, if we hack their network, we can snag those codes,” Razor replied, his voice dripping with confidence.
“Great! Let’s get some new IDs and dress up as officers!” Vance said, his excitement palpable.
Razor smirked, his enthusiasm infectious. He opened his laptop, ready to craft their new identities like an artist with a canvas.
A few days later, Mei returned, holding police uniforms.
“Here’s our new look,” she said, a grin on her face.
Kirk admired her handiwork. “Nice job, Mei. With these disguises, we’ll blend right in.”
“After we find the entrance, we’ll lay low and figure out how to infiltrate the Flying Dragon gang,” Vance added.
The day arrived. The CAD team , dressed as police officers, approached the station with fake IDs in hand.
The real officers were surprisingly friendly, oblivious to the ruse. With the help of the police, the team navigated the sewer system without raising any suspicions. Confidence surged as they made their way to the hidden entrance.
“Wow, this is like entering a secret city,” Vance exclaimed as they descended in an elevator, neon lights illuminating their path.
The underwater level opened up to a dazzling cyberpunk landscape, sunlight filtering through the ceiling. The walls glowed with advertisements for underwater shops, creating a surreal atmosphere.
“It’s like something out of a video game!” Kirk marveled.
“Ironically, even gang cities need police to maintain order,” Vance quipped.
Razor nodded. “For a city to thrive, both cops and criminals have to play their part, or it becomes a warzone.”
The team decided to rent an apartment in the underwater city for their base. It wasn't exactly a penthouse suite—more like a converted storage unit with a view of a perpetually damp concrete wall—but it would do. After disabling hidden cameras and trackers (standard procedure in a city built by and for those who preferred to remain unseen), they established a secure hideout.
Mei, who understood the pre-True Horde dynamics of warlords and gangs better than anyone, noticed familiar faces among the crowds—hardened gang members with telltale tattoos, and warriors with the disciplined posture of trained fighters. They were all here, drawn to this underwater melting pot. The CAD team was poised to dive into danger, armed with disguises, intel, and a plan to take down the Flying Dragons once and for all.
In the cramped apartment that served as their base, Vance leaned back, arms crossed, eyebrows knitted in thought. “So, the Flying Dragons aren’t just one big bad gang but a patchwork of various factions? This includes some warlords who fled the True Horde? That’s some juicy intel!”
Razor nodded, his fingers dancing on his laptop keyboard like a concert pianist. “Absolutely. It means we’re dealing with a hodgepodge of gangs, each with its own strengths and weaknesses. We need to gather more intel to craft the perfect plan to take them down.”
“Submarines streamline transport between land and underwater,” Razor added. “We need to monitor their routes.”
“Let’s start with their submarine dock,” Vance decided.
“We’ll infiltrate the area and gather intel,” Razor suggested.
“Kirk, you and Razor focus on the dock. Mei and I will infiltrate the Dragon base,” Vance concluded.
As the CAD team finalized their plans, excitement crackled in the air. They were gearing up for a mission that could turn the tide against the Flying Dragons, and the thrill of the chase had never felt so invigorating.