127: Chapter 128 They knew we were coming

Li Cang had spent three grueling days in the operations cabin.

He tossed the Gauss rifle wreckage pack he had scavenged from the Cyber Federation corpses into the base's dismantling center.

After the progress bar finished, the system provided a blueprint named "Primary Electromagnetic Acceleration Coil."

Without hesitation, he dragged this blueprint and the previously unlocked "Bolter (Improved Model)" blueprint into the fusion box, sinking fifty BP into it for a forced deduction.

Five minutes later, a new weapon with an absurdly long barrel and a caliber as large as a hand cannon appeared on the panel.

[Electromagnetic Acceleration Bolter (Beta)].

Three sets of high-frequency electromagnetic coils were nested within the barrel, capable of accelerating the already high muzzle velocity of the bolt shells by another forty percent; the effective range was directly doubled, and its kinetic penetration could easily tear through T2-level light composite armor.

The trade-off was that the recoil when firing this thing was powerful enough to shatter an ordinary person's scapula.

Li Cang looked at the red recoil warning and tapped the armrest of the console.

He had no intention of issuing this to ordinary Thunder Warriors.

This was a toy tailor-made for the Astartes.

As long as the thirteen recruits soaking in the cultivation tanks on the fourth basement level could walk out alive, plus C-19 who had retreated from Manila Fortress, the fourteen Astartes each wielding one of these electromagnetic Bolters would be equivalent to fourteen mobile rapid-fire turrets.

He did the math.

Scrounging together the Refined Steel and High-Energy Batteries in the material warehouse, there was just enough to manufacture twenty of these guns; with the accompanying ammunition, his resources were once again squeezed bone-dry.

But Li Cang felt it was worth it; a pauper who had finally struck it rich wouldn't save money to breed interest when they could convert it all into combat power.

Just as the notification for the full production queue finished sounding, another screen with a full progress bar popped up on the console's main monitor.

[Void Crusher Reverse Engineering Completed].

Li Cang sat up straight and pushed aside the cup of nutrient solution that had been sitting there for three days.

He had previously thought this thing was a railgun or some kind of fragment from a space battleship.

The analysis report provided by the system shattered his delusions.

[Analysis Result: Super-Gravity Drop Pod (Damaged Blueprint)].

[Completeness: 34% (Includes only gravity recoil buffer module and aerodynamic shell technology)].

[Extractable Tech: Individual-level Sub-orbital Drop Pod (Simplified Version)].

It couldn't fire, it couldn't go to space; it could only be thrown downward.

The report stated clearly that, combined with the base's existing smelting technology, they could build an individual drop pod capable of being deployed from an altitude of thirty thousand meters, using a gravity recoil system to decelerate instantly before landing.

Li Cang looked at the crude blueprint and chuckled.

He was just worrying about how to stealthily transport over a dozen Astartes, each weighing more than two tons in their heavy power armor, into the deep-sea fault lines beneath the Antarctic Ice Sheet.

Going by sea was too slow, and going by land was too conspicuous.

Now, the transportation had arrived.

The radar signature of this sub-orbital drop pod was similar to a meteorite; as long as he calculated the landing point and the timing of the gravity recoil activation, he could hammer the fourteen Astartes directly into the top of Facility Three like nails.

He had the firepower, and now he had the vehicle.

Looking at the Astartes cultivation progress with four days remaining, he felt his hand was solid.

A faint knocking came from outside the operations cabin door.

Li Cang switched the holographic interface; on the main surveillance screen of the console, Corvin was standing outside the door.

He wasn't wearing power armor, only a grey one-piece jumpsuit, and his posture was significantly more hunched than before.

The genetic collapse progress bar had been stalled at forty-two percent for three days.

Li Cang had just administered the first batch of newly produced "Improved Stabilizer" to Corvin; it was indeed effective, forcefully halting the collapse speed, but it could only stop it, not reverse it.

Corvin's current state was like a riddled bucket; the stabilizer only plugged the largest holes, while water still leaked out, just a bit slower.

"Enter," Li Cang pressed the communicator.

The door slid open, and Corvin walked in.

His breathing was heavy, each breath producing a noise from his chest like a tattered bellows—the sound of tissue friction from pulmonary fibrosis.

He didn't walk to the console, stopping five paces away from Li Cang, holding a black electronic storage disk in his hand.

"Commander," Corvin spoke, his voice as dry as two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together, "I heard C-19 is back, and he brought back a set of coordinates."

Li Cang leaned back in his chair, looking at the veteran.

"Yes."

"I also heard that the batch of recruits on the fourth basement level will be waking up in a few days." Corvin placed the storage disk on a nearby equipment rack, his knuckles trembling uncontrollably as he withdrew his hand.

"Correct," Li Cang didn't beat around the bush, "Once they wake up, I'll load them into drop pods and drop them onto those coordinates."

Corvin looked at Li Cang without responding.

He was waiting for Li Cang to continue, waiting for Li Cang to assign him a position.

Li Cang said nothing.

The operations cabin was silent for about ten seconds, with only the hum of the life support system audible.

"They have no combat experience," Corvin broke the silence.

"C-19 does," Li Cang looked at Corvin's glaringly red collapse progress bar on the panel, "The combat data he brought back from Manila Fortress is enough to command a squad."

"It's not enough," Corvin shook his head slowly, as if afraid to use too much force and snap his own neck. "C-19 is good at tearing enemies apart head-on, but he's never fought an infiltration war, never fought in enclosed underground spaces. He doesn't know how to find a way out beneath an ice sheet where there isn't even light."

Corvin took a step forward.

"Those recruits need an old fossil who knows how to survive in desperate situations to lead the way."

"You can't lead them anymore, Corvin," Li Cang's voice was cold and hard, without a single ripple. "In your current physical state, let alone fighting, you wouldn't even survive the gravity recoil the moment the drop pod lands. Your bones would shatter into hundreds of pieces and pierce your own organs before the hatch even opens."

Corvin didn't argue.

He knew Li Cang was telling the truth. He could feel the dying tissues within his own body.

He turned around and walked toward the door.

He walked very slowly, his back somewhat hunched.

He paused at the doorway without looking back.

"In that disk is a manual for enclosed space tactics I summarized based on the terrain and engagement records of Manila Fortress," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Have C-19 read it a few times. Don't let them die too quickly."

The door slid open and then closed.

Li Cang watched Corvin's back disappear at the end of the hallway on the surveillance screen, his gaze falling on the black storage disk.

He didn't touch the disk.

He switched his gaze back to the holographic console and pulled up the latest battlefield environment scan report sent by the Adeptus Mechanicus.

This was the order he had given three days ago, instructing the Adeptus Mechanicus to use high-altitude detection satellites to perform a deep geological and thermal scan of those coordinates on the Antarctic Ice Sheet.

The report had arrived just two minutes ago.

Li Cang clicked open the thermal distribution map.

The fault zone in the extension of the Mariana Trench should have been a deep blue, absolute low-temperature zone.

Now, in the middle of that deep blue area, a dense cluster of red dots had appeared.

It wasn't industrial waste heat from plasma Macro-cannon charging.

Industrial waste heat is high-intensity radiation concentrated on a single point.

These red dots were scattered, showing an irregular moving state, and the temperature characteristics of the red dots perfectly matched the thermal radiation model of large gene-enhanced organisms.

Li Cang's pupils contracted slightly.

He swiped on the screen, enlarging the area of red dots and pulling up a density analysis.

The number exceeded five hundred.

These five hundred biological heat sources weren't arrayed around Facility Three like conventional defense forces; they were spread out like a giant net in the ice sheet fissures above the fault line.

It was a pocket formation.

As long as Li Cang's drop pods smashed down from the sky, no matter which fissure they landed in, they would fall directly into the center of this net.

Li Cang leaned back in his chair, his fingers slowly tapping the armrest twice.

He had originally thought C-19 snapping that squad leader's neck was a perfect silencing.

He had originally thought he held an absolute information advantage, with the enemy in the light and him in the dark.

He thought he had calculated everything.

But the enemy hadn't panicked due to the loss of a patrol squad; they hadn't even changed the Macro-cannon's charging progress.

They had simply scattered all their forces along the inevitable path, quietly digging a pit.

They knew the coordinates had been leaked.

They knew the Thunder Warriors were coming.

They had even correctly anticipated that the Thunder Warriors could smash directly into the ice sheet via drop pods.

So they spread a net, waiting for those fourteen Astartes to fall from the sky.

Li Cang looked at the map filled with dense red dots.

An extremely dangerous chill crept up his spine.

He reached for the black storage disk, picked it up, and plugged it into the reader interface.