450: R Country Sinking (Part Two)

The aftershock of the dissipating formation swept across the sea, and the chaos in Country R's mainland was even more intense than what was reflected in the light screen.

The lingering warmth of the formation's explosion still hung in the air, and the sea breeze carried a burnt smell to the shore. The island, once so crowded it was hard to turn around, now had empty streets, with only shattered walls and ruins remaining.

Panic surged in the deadly silence, clutching at people's chests.

The remaining four million people, having just caught their breath after the terror of Yamata no Orochi's rampage, frantically rushed outwards.

Their shuffling footsteps crushed the scattered rubble, and cries and running sounds merged into one, echoing off the dilapidated buildings, filled with despair.

Ports and airports, any place that offered a chance of survival, were already packed to the brim with a dense crowd.

Amidst the pushing and pulling, people occasionally fell to the ground.

Groans fell into the crowd, quickly drowned out by even louder noises.

Inside Yokohama Port, the crowd stared intently at the foreign warships in the distance, pushing forward with all their might.

"Open the gates and let us on, please take us with you," a woman in the front row pleaded, her voice trembling as she clutched someone's arm.

A man beside her roared, "Even if we just stay on the deck, give us a way to live!"

On the destroyer flying the Stars and Stripes, soldiers pointed their guns at those climbing the gangway. The ship's broadcast repeatedly cycled: "Only US citizens are accepted. Non-citizens are prohibited from approaching."

A man in a suit was pushed to the very front by the crowd; the briefcase in his arms was suddenly knocked open, and US dollars scattered all over the ground.

"I'll give you all the money, just let me on the ship!" he shouted until his throat was hoarse, sweat beading on his forehead and dripping onto his collar.

The officer on the ship glanced at the money on the ground, shaking his head expressionlessly: "As I said, only our own citizens. Money is useless."

The man's legs gave out, and he slumped to the ground.

The banknotes were repeatedly trampled into the mud by frantic footsteps, quickly losing their original color.

In the distance on the sea, several speedboats carried large and small boxes of chaebols and their families, heading towards the US Aircraft Carrier Fleet.

"Fortunately, we got out quickly. If we had stayed any longer, we would have been done for," someone on the boat said, looking back from the side of the vessel, a hint of post-disaster relief in their voice.

The crowd on the shore watched wistfully as the speedboats grew smaller, their chests tight with shortness of breath. "Why can they leave? Are we just supposed to wait for death?" A young man's eyes reddened with frustration; he bent down, picked up a piece of rubble, and threw it into the sea.

The stone hit the water with a "plop" and then there was no more movement.

The middle-aged man next to him hugged his crying child tightly, covering his daughter's eyes with his palm, his Adam's apple bobbing: "Don't be afraid... Dad will definitely find a way out for you."

The airport area was even more tragic than the port by a third.

The terminal building was burnt down to a charred skeleton, black smoke obscuring half the sky. Abandoned vehicles and fallen bodies lay across the runway, blocking the path completely.

Next to the few remaining passenger planes, armed private security personnel formed a semicircle, sternly shouting at the surging crowd: "Step back! Do not approach!"

People desperate for survival crowded in layers on the periphery, stretching out their hands and pleading: "Let us get on the plane... we can even stand."

The security guards roughly pushed away those who tried to squeeze forward: "The plane is only for designated personnel, get out..."

Amidst the pushing, some fell, and cries and curses mingled into a chaotic mess.

Politicians and the families of top chaebols were escorted by guards towards the boarding gate, their clothes still neat, their faces only showing numbness. "Hurry up, don't dawdle."

The woman in the suit smoothed her hair, and the guard quickly nodded: "Don't worry, Madam, we'll be leaving soon." They were deaf to the surrounding wails, not even bothering to lift their eyelids.

An old woman in a kimono knelt on the concrete ground, kowtowing repeatedly in the direction of the departing plane.

The dull thud of her forehead hitting the ground was accompanied by her suppressed sobs.

A little boy tugged at her sleeve, trembling: "Grandma, will the plane wait for us?"

The old woman's withered hand stroked her grandson's head, her voice ethereal: "It will... there's a way out." After saying this, her shoulders suddenly convulsed, and a small dark stain spread on the concrete ground.

In a corner of the temporary shelter, a man in an Onmyoji Hunting Robe huddled, clutching a satellite phone tightly with both hands, his tone humble: "My lord... I've studied Shikigami Cultivation Techniques for decades, and I can sign a Soul Contract right now! I'll follow your country for the rest of my life, I only ask that you save my life..."

The voice on the other end was icy: "Spots are limited, and it requires an approval process. No one can guarantee anything."

The call ended, and the man slid down the wall, sitting on the ground. His back was drenched in cold sweat, and his heart felt empty and adrift.

In another open space, a man dressed as a swordsman took a deep breath, then swung his katana sharply down onto the concrete ground.

With a "clang," the blade snapped.

He slammed his knees to the ground, his forehead touching the earth, and said in a deep voice to the head of Country F's overseas base: "Your Subordinate is willing to serve you like a dog or horse. From now on, I will obey any command."

The person in charge crossed his arms and observed him for a moment, then said flatly: "Good skills. But what we need is not just temporary courage."

"Whether you stay or not depends on your future performance."

The swordsman kowtowed heavily: "Thank you, my lord. Kenichiro will never fail you."

...The global internet exploded once again.

During Yamata no Orochi's rampage, Country R's entire network crashed, relying solely on satellite live broadcasts.

Billions of netizens watched the entire process from the Malevolent God's predation to its destruction, and now the discussions on the Underworld's official website were almost overflowing.

"Holy crap! That formation clearing just now, I literally watched the whole thing on my knees!!!"

"Brothers, let me tell you first, when that blue-glowing grid lit up, my phone almost fell into my instant noodle cup."

"Who wasn't? I was on the toilet, and it literally made me jump up. This is ten thousand times more exciting than watching a blockbuster."

"Yamata no Orochi was a deity, right? And it's just gone? What's the deal with this Underworld formation? Explain!"

"Explain my ass, do you think such a strategic weapon can just be told to you? Just know it's awesome, and you can sleep soundly from now on."

"+1, I used to worry about some world-destroying evil god appearing one day, but now... hehe, Underworld Mama has my back."

"Don't celebrate too early, upstairs. This formation must consume a huge amount of energy. Didn't you see that after the white light dissipated, those black nails stuck in the ground sank? It's probably run out of energy."

"So what if it ran out? If it can be activated once, it can be activated a second time. This shows that the Underworld has a trump card, and the Mercury Plane is stable."

"Sigh :-(, I was worried about the disaster spreading before, but now after seeing the Underworld's hard power, I can finally relax. This is true security, right?"

"Help, the moment the formation burst into white light, I got goosebumps all over. The power is too immense. How many trump cards does the Underworld hide? It's simply a divine organization, I prostrate myself."

"After watching the live broadcast, I immediately followed the Underworld's official website overnight. From now on, I'm a loyal fan of His Majesty. With this strength, there's no need to fear any evil gods or chaos. This is what true peace and quiet, with someone carrying the burden behind the scenes, means. Respect!"