220: For a future that does not exist

"How is the Logistics Department handling things?"

"How many usable parts were salvaged from that batch of captured Void Bubble Engines?"

On the orbit of Planet Three of Tiankan Seat V789.169, on a space defense platform riddled with holes,

a man with three golden stars on his shoulder was staring seriously at an engineer in dirty overalls, asking in a slightly urgent tone.

"General, you've been here seven or eight times in these last three days!"

"Even if you're in a hurry, dismantling parts takes a lot of time!"

The engineer looked troubled. He wiped his hands on his overalls, took out a tablet, handed it to the general, and pointed at it.

"Look, General, this is the current progress,"

"We've barely dismantled half—and as for those scrapped ones, the work on dismantling spare parts hasn't even reached a quarter!"

The General—Lagrange Koradilon—leaned in to look. The short progress bar and the slow pace gave him wave after wave of stomach pain.

He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his uniform to get some air, then pressed his right hand against his stomach, which twitched from time to time, and said helplessly:

"It's not that I'm in a hurry... it's that our time... is running out."

"The Alien Fleet we're fighting is becoming more elite, and the fortifications we encounter are becoming more mature—"

"If nothing else, if we can't keep moving forward, we'll have to stop here."

The engineer sighed.

"General, we've already switched to three shifts,"

"Three apprentice brothers have already returned their souls to the Tower of Mourners due to overwork."

"Dismantling this stuff requires both skill and experience,"

"And we have to be constantly mindful of those fragile core components, lest an error in operation triggers an anti-reverse-engineering mechanism and destroys everything—"

"BOOM!!!!"

Just as he finished speaking, a loud explosion suddenly came from a cubicle in the Industrial Zone behind him, making the two men pause.

"Damn it! The booby trap was defused incorrectly!"

"Casualties!"

"It's on fire! Save the equipment! Notify damage control!"

Almost immediately, the engineer bolted inside.

Lagrange was stunned for a second, then quickly opened a nearby portable damage control equipment box, grabbed a fire extinguisher, and followed behind the engineer—

The cubicle was already a sea of fire.

The booby trap placed by the aliens in the engine was an incendiary bomb. Upon detonation, it splashed a large amount of sticky fuel in all directions.

As soon as Lagrange entered the cubicle, he felt a wave of heat hit his face.

Several engineers close by had already become charred corpses, while a few others who didn't seem to be completely covered were rolling frantically on the ground.

Lagrange had just pointed his fire extinguisher at a person rolling on the ground when he heard a pained shout from that person:

"Save the damn equipment first! You idiot!"

"Hurry! That stuff isn't heat-resistant!"

Hearing this, Lagrange said nothing. He just sprayed the man on the ground a few times randomly before rushing toward the burning equipment, turning the fire extinguisher to maximum power and pressing down hard—

"Ssssssssss!!!!"

After a chaotic scramble, the damage control team finally arrived. Fire-extinguishing gel poured down, finally quelling the chaos.

"Phew—"

Lagrange walked out in a mess. After wiping his face and flicking away the sticky milky-white gel, he looked back at the cubicle,

where a large amount of the metal structure inside was twisted and deformed. Several charred figures lay on the ground, and the engine in the middle was now just a wreck.

"Why weren't you operating in a vacuum workshop?"

Catching his breath, he grabbed an engineer next to him and asked.

The man was stunned. After seeing Lagrange's rank, he immediately stood at attention and replied:

"Report! To speed up progress, we usually dismantle the external components before sending the core assembly into the workshop."

At this time, the engineer who had been talking to Lagrange at the beginning walked over limping. He patted the young engineer, signaling him to get back to work,

then stood before Lagrange and said:

"I know what you're thinking, but in fact, the booby traps the aliens set are all cluster bombs,"

"Fragmentation bombs, incendiary bombs, all sorts of bombs, and even shaped charges targeted at the core components."

"We usually complete the bomb disposal and external component dismantling in a positive pressure workshop before sending them into the vacuum lab—"

"What you just saw was just an accident, an accident of failed bomb disposal."

"Alright, my General, I know you're in a hurry,"

"We'll speed up the progress—we agreed on finishing within a week, didn't we?"

Lagrange nodded silently, then said softly:

"I'll assign some people to you later to help with bomb disposal."

"Every step forward we take in this offensive increases the possibility of a future turnaround—"

"The whole army is counting on these few engines repaired by logistics. Please, be even faster."

"Yes, my General."

After watching the engineer give a deep salute, Lagrange slowly turned and left.

He picked a random direction and walked away.

Since he rarely had no official duties, he wanted to see what the people in this fortification were doing.

The Legion had liberated this star system two days ago. At that time, the attacking fleet had fewer than eight thousand cruisers and larger combat units left,

and when they arrived here, they ran headlong into nearly a Legion of alien defenders—

he didn't know if they were lucky or unlucky.

This batch of fleet seemed to be the forces the aliens had gathered for a counteroffensive.

Every one of their Warships was equipped with those antique Warp Bubble Engines.

Although the Legion had eliminated nearly a third of the alien forces, they had also suffered heavy losses.

Otherwise, they wouldn't have to rely on dismantling captured alien engines to barely maintain their combat effectiveness.

As for the production device in his own hands?

What a joke. Not only could it only build one at a time, but the speed was also excruciatingly slow—producing a normal-power Warp Bubble Engine would waste 1,420 standard hours.

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

As he walked, three orderly gunshots came from ahead, making Lagrange's whole body shudder.

That was a funeral for fallen soldiers.

But this wasn't a Warship; it was a Space City, a fortification.

If there was a funeral here, there was only one possibility—another severely wounded soldier in recovery had died.

He walked over quietly and stood at a distance, watching.

It was a combat group of eleven people, holding old-fashioned kinetic firearms, likely loaded with blanks.

In the middle of the open space lay a corpse quietly covered with a military flag.

After the moment of silence and the engraving of the name, two squad members placed the corpse into a launch container and shot it into the vastness of space.

When their ceremony ended, Lagrange walked over gently.

Those soldiers first saw Lagrange's uniform from a distance and stopped in their tracks. As he approached, they realized the person before them was actually their supreme commander.

So they immediately stood at attention, slightly adjusted their formation, and shouted in unison:

"General! All members of the 88th Combat Group, belonging to Destroyer No. 209679 of the Eleventh Fleet! Reporting to you!"

Lagrange waved his hand and looked at them with a heavy gaze.

"Hello—you've worked hard in this liberation battle."

"Also, about your comrade... I'm very sorry."

But the leader, a soldier with a non-commissioned officer's rank, said with a smile:

"No—General, please don't say that."

"His soul has already returned to the Tower of Mourners. This was his own choice."

"We just need to be proud of him."

"Yes," Lagrange also felt a sense of relief. His mind was truly in a mess.

Pressure from all sides weighed on his heart, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

"All those who fight heroically for the survival of humanity, whether living or dead, possess supreme glory."

Watching the squad of soldiers leave, Lagrange started walking again in the opposite direction.

"Sigh—"

He could feel that the pressure he had been under recently was growing.

Whether from the aliens or the high-level officials of the Military Alliance.

The impact of the major offensive on Restart Day was becoming smaller and smaller. Recently, the Alien Fleet encountered in every attack had become increasingly elite—

He had originally wanted to strike directly at the heart of the "Yorick" civilization in one go.

But without reinforcements or support, that plan had long since been shelved.

Now, he only wanted to capture as many buffer zones as possible as quickly as he could—

After all, every time an alien "Linear Route" node was destroyed, their military projection capability into the interior of human civilization became weaker.

Thinking this, setting shook his head.

He hoped there wouldn't be too many obstacles in the future... even if he had to give his life... so that the dying human civilization could exist for a bit longer,

he felt it would be worth it...