221: Golden flood and hounds released from their cages

The night sky of Hanhai Base was torn asunder.

Not by artillery fire, but by overloaded spatial portals.

The once-dark square was now as bright as day. Twelve heavy spatial portals were arranged in a circle, their deep blue vortices spinning wildly and emitting a tooth-aching hum. The air was thick with the burnt smell of ionized ozone and a scent even more intoxicating to everyone present—the "aroma of wealth" from a mixture of brand-new lubricant and high-polymer packaging film.

"Boom!"

A massive container was roughly slammed onto the ground by an anti-gravity pallet, kicking up a cloud of dust. The "Mechanical Pantheon Arsenal" steel stamp on the side of the container, glinting coldly, was as eye-piercing as an oracle under the searchlights.

Then came the second container, the third, the hundredth.

Top-tier production line equipment from the Divine Court's Sector 7 Arsenal filled the square like worthless trash. Nano-lathes, high-energy particle furnaces, and even entire sets of automated assembly arms—items that once made the base's technicians salivate in their dreams—were now huddled together without any dignity.

The surrounding crowd watched with bloodshot eyes.

An old technician’s hands trembled as he stroked a newly landed lithography machine, his movements more tender than if he were caressing a lover. His mouth hung open, making raspy "he-he" sounds as tears mixed with the grease on his face and flowed into his mouth. For these exiles who had spent most of their lives scrounging in garbage heaps, the metal mountain rising before them was more impactful than any gold or silver treasure.

This was the hope for survival.

This was the capital for revenge.

"Don't just stand there! Move!"

Eve's voice boomed through the broadcast system, as cold as a bucket of ice water. "These aren't exhibits. I want to see them running in the workshops within three hours. If anyone dares to delay for even a second, I'll stuff him into a furnace as fuel."

At the control console, Eve's hands moved as if playing a frenzied piano piece.

On the thousands of virtual screens floating before her, green data streams cascaded down like a frantic waterfall.

[Order Confirmed: Hephaestus-class Engineering Robots x 5,000 units]

[Payment Completed: 130,000,000 credit points (Initial installment)]

[Logistics Status: Delivered]

She was conducting a frantic "violent delivery."

Those astronomical strings of credit points evaporated instantly at her fingertips, transforming into a tangible torrent of steel.

Inside the once-empty Dock 3, thousands of newly unpacked engineering robots swarmed in like white ants. The blue light of welding torches flickered one after another, illuminating the entire dock. An expansion project that would have normally taken three months was taking shape at a speed visible to the naked eye under the terrifying efficiency of "money power."

No negotiations, no price comparisons, no approvals.

Only the purest: pay, take the goods, get to work... Titan Laboratory (Expanded Edition).

The air here was thicker than outside, carrying a faint scent of blood and the sweet aroma of nutrient solution.

Behind the massive reinforced glass, the first mass-produced bio-mecha was undergoing final neural interface testing.

It was only three meters tall, appearing somewhat slender compared to traditional heavy mecha. However, it didn't have those clunky metal armor plates; instead, a layer of dark red biological muscle fibers covered its alloy skeleton. These fibers pulsed slightly under electrical stimulation, as if the machine were alive.

"Output power stable, neural synchronization rate at 98%."

Grom looked at the data pad, a complex expression on his stone-like face. As a member of the Rock Guard Clan who loved life, he was instinctively repulsed by this technology that desecrated life, yet as Hanhai's chief biologist, he couldn't help but marvel at its perfection.

"It doesn't need a complex operating system; as long as the pilot has a shred of killing intent, it will pounce like a mad dog."

Chen Feng stood before the observation window, looking at the mecha.

The mecha's head was a smooth surface without any facial features, save for a single crimson cyclopean sensor glowing in the center.

"The name?" Chen Feng asked.

"Hound," Grom said in a low voice. "While they lack the destructive power of a Chimera, their cost is only one percent of a Chimera's. Moreover... they possess beast-like intuition and self-repair capabilities. As long as the core isn't destroyed, they can continue fighting even with severed limbs."

"Good."

Chen Feng's fingers tapped lightly on the glass. "Release them. I want those noble lords of the Alliance to know that being bitten by a dog can be fatal, too."

...Medical Center, Intensive Care Ward.

*Click.*

With a crisp mechanical locking sound, Reno snapped his eyes open.

He instinctively raised his right hand, but felt an unprecedented sense of weight. He turned his head, and his pupils suddenly constricted.

The original severed mechanical arm was gone. In its place was an exaggeratedly thick, black metallic arm.

It wasn't an ordinary prosthetic.

It was the "Hercules" Heavy Siege Arm from the Divine Court's Arsenal. The entire arm was cast from high-density depleted uranium alloy, with three sets of hydraulic boosters installed at the elbow and a ring of monomolecular serrations embedded on the knuckles for tearing through ship armor.

That sense of power surged through the neural interface straight to his brain, making his blood boil.

"Roar!"

Reno rolled out of bed, not even putting on shoes, and stepped barefoot onto the cold floor. He looked at the thickened composite steel plate in the corner of the room used for testing prosthetic strength, his mouth curling into a ferocious grin.

No wind-up.

Just a casual swing.

*BOOM—!!!*

The entire wall exploded as if struck by a shell. A massive hole appeared in the center of the half-meter-thick composite steel plate, its edges curling outward in a heart-wrenching tear.

Debris flew everywhere as alarms blared.

Reno stood in the dust, looking at his unscathed new arm, a wild light flashing in his single eye.

"Now this is a fucking hand!"

He laughed loudly, grabbed his clothes and threw them on haphazardly, then strode out. He couldn't wait to find some Blackwater scum to see if he could crush their heads like watermelons... Training Ground.

The wind whipped sand against the soldiers' faces, stinging.

But no one moved.

Five hundred newly recruited soldiers stared intently at the figure standing on the high platform.

Chimera wore the pitch-black "Executioner" armor, looking like a silent statue. He wasn't wearing a helmet, exposing his pale, handsome face to the sunlight, his heterochromatic eyes devoid of any emotion.

At his feet lay three scrapped training robots.

That was the result of the demonstration just now. Three seconds—in just three seconds, these three robots with intermediate combat programs had been disassembled into a pile of parts.

No fancy moves, no redundant words.

Only absolute efficiency and killing instinct.

"On the battlefield, there are no heroes."

Chimera spoke. His voice wasn't loud, possessing a metallic quality, yet it reached everyone's ears clearly. "Only the living and the dead."

He pointed to his chest, where a newly healed scar remained from protecting Chen Feng.

"If you want to live, learn to think like a beast."

Below the platform, a young soldier swallowed hard. He had seen this youth known as a "monster" in videos before, and back then, he had only felt fear. But now, looking at the figure standing in the wind, bearing such immense power alone, the fear in his eyes vanished.

In its place was a near-fanatical worship.

In this dog-eat-dog universe, following a powerful monster was far safer than following a merciful weakling.

"Yes, Instructor!"

The roar of five hundred men was uniform, shaking the dust from the air.

Chimera was stunned for a moment. He looked at those fanatical gazes—looks he had never seen before. Not the indifference toward a test subject, nor the disgust toward a monster.

It was... trust.

The trust of placing one's back in the hands of a comrade.

His fingers curled slightly under the armor. A strange warmth surged in his chest, making him feel more fulfilled than any high-energy nutrient solution.

He was no longer alone... Administration Building, Top-floor Office.

Su Li pushed the door open, holding a thick holographic report. Her steps were a bit unsteady and she had dark circles under her eyes, having clearly worked for over forty consecutive hours, yet her spirit was frighteningly high.

"Crazy, this is absolutely crazy."

She slammed the report onto Chen Feng's desk, rubbing her temples as she spoke. "At the current burn rate, those 300 million credit points will last two weeks at most. You've turned all the money into fixed assets and munitions; the liquid capital pool is so clean a mouse would starve to death."

"But look at this."

Su Li swiped her finger, bringing up another chart. It was the base's comprehensive combat power assessment curve.

That line was pulling straight up at an angle that defied common sense.

"Two days ago, we were just a bunch of beggars with fire pokers. Now? Our fire density has surpassed a standard Blackwater sub-fleet."

Su Li adjusted her glasses, her gaze toward Chen Feng carrying a hint of admiration after the collapse of her logic. "Is this the 'commercial war' you talked about? Turning money into bullets, then using bullets to snatch more money?"

"This is called a closed loop of capital operation."

Chen Feng leaned back in his chair, still fiddling with that gold coin. "Money in an account is just numbers; it's only power when spent. As long as our guns are hard enough, there will be plenty of people lining up to give us money."

"As long as you keep winning." Su Li sighed, but a smile touched her lips. "Fine, Big Boss. Since I'm on this pirate ship, I'll go crazy with you until the end. The finance department will cooperate fully; even if I have to mortgage the last screw, I'll ensure the front line's ammunition supply isn't cut off."

...Watchtower.

Chen Feng stood alone on the edge of the tower's top, the gale tousling his black hair.

Below him, the entire Hanhai Base was like a waking steel behemoth.

Welding sparks flickered in the docks, battle cries shook the training grounds, and the factory chimneys belched thick smoke. All this clamor was time bought with money.

*Ting.*

The gold coin was tossed high, tumbling under the light of the star before landing steadily in his palm.

Chen Feng clenched his fist, feeling the coldness of the metal.

Not enough.

Still not fast enough.

Augustus's reaction speed would never be slow. Valerius's death would make the Alliance completely tear off its mask of hypocrisy. The next wave of attacks would no longer be probes, but a thunderous destruction.

He had to arm himself to the teeth before that moment arrived.

Just then.

*Beep— Beep— Beep—*

A flurry of chaotic signals suddenly broke into the communication channel. It wasn't an encrypted military band, but the most primitive and noisy civilian broadcast frequency.

On the edge of the radar screen, dense clusters of light points suddenly lit up.

It wasn't a red enemy attack alarm.

But white light points representing neutral units.

Chen Feng snapped his head up, looking toward the end of the horizon.

In that deep starry sky, countless dilapidated ships were struggling to jump out of warp.

There were patched-up cargo ships, modified mining barges, and even a few escape pods that looked like they could fall apart at any moment. They had no unified livery or orderly formation, looking like a group of ragged beggars stumbling into this battlefield.

But the number... was in the thousands, tens of thousands.

Those were the exiles who had crawled out from the dark corners of various star sectors after watching that live broadcast.

They were oppressed Mine Slaves, desperate smugglers, and dissidents wanted by the Alliance.

They had no money to buy bonds, nor did they have guns or cannons.

But they brought themselves.

In the public channel, countless noisy voices converged into a torrent:

"This is the 'wanderer'... We saw the broadcast... We want to join."

"We have technicians! And skilled miners! As long as you give us a meal, we'll kill those Alliance sons of bitches!"

"Hanhai... will it really take us in?"

Chen Feng looked at the dilapidated fleet swarming like locusts, his fingers gripping the gold coin trembling slightly.

He had thought there would be defectors.

But he never imagined there would be so many.

Was this "a just cause enjoys abundant support"? No, this was the suppressed fury of thousands of years finally finding an outlet.

Chen Feng took a deep breath and pressed the button for the all-frequency broadcast.

His voice was calm, yet it reached every dilapidated ship through the signal towers.

"Open the air defense identification zone."

"To all who are willing to take up arms, Hanhai welcomes you home."

Ten thousand ships came to join.

In this cold universe, an alliance of madmen, beggars, and avengers was beginning to show its prowess upon the ruins.