22: Chapter 22 Gold-Grade Artifact - Rally Order
Fuxing Hong Base
Hundreds of Houseboats formed a massive fleet.
Zheng Yuanshan sat in command of the Houseboat at the very center, surrounded by patrol escorts.
Even at such an exciting moment, Fuxing Hong Base maintained its order and quiet.
Zheng Yuanshan was staring intently at the released faction sequence list.
He had not yet looked at his personal ranking; after nearly fifty years of military life, the idea that the nation always came before the individual was engraved in his bones.
[faction merit Ranking · Top Five]
[First Place: Yanhuang Camp, Total Merit: 5,126,847,391]
[Second Place: Indian Camp, Total Merit: 187,523,649]
[Third Place: Star-Spangled Banner Camp, Total Merit: 96,471,228]
[Fourth Place: Kangaroo Camp, Total Merit: 37,845,902]
[Fifth Place: Polar Bear Camp, Total Merit: 24,763,158]
Zheng Yuanshan stared at the first line for three seconds.
5.1 billion.
The second-place Tianzhu was 180 million.
The gap wasn't just a magnitude; it was two different worlds.
"Good!" A middle-aged man with glasses beside him slammed his hand onto the deck. "Yanhuang Civilization is first! Far ahead of second place!"
"5.1 billion against 180 million, this gap is just too—" Another bald man choked on his words before he could finish. No, that wasn't right.
Zheng Yuanshan didn't move, but his brows were already furrowed.
Yanhuang Civilization had 1.4 billion people, while Tianzhu had 1.5 billion. Their population bases were similar, with Tianzhu even having an extra hundred million. Yet, the difference in merit was a full twenty-eight times.
People in Tianzhu must have died, and on a massive scale.
But that wasn't why he was frowning.
What made him frown was—how could Yanhuang Civilization be so much higher?
Although he was confident in Yanhuang Civilization and believed it to be one of the best nations in the world, he wasn't so blind as to ignore obvious irrationalities.
Relying on strategy posts? Relying on team fishing? These were certainly useful, but at most, they could increase the survival rate by ten or twenty percent. They absolutely could not account for a gap of nearly fifty times.
"Old Zheng, look at the personal rankings." The middle-aged man with glasses changed his tone, lowering his voice.
Zheng Yuanshan opened the personal merit leaderboard.
The first line.
[Yang Hang, Merit: 552,876,543]
His hand froze in mid-air, and he went completely still.
550 million.
The merit of this one person alone accounted for more than ten percent of the Yanhuang Camp's total merit.
With this person's name and merit value revealed, the reason for the Yanhuang Camp's anomalous merit value was already half-explained.
It was obviously related to this top-ranked individual.
Both were so irrational and unimaginably high in merit.
Yang Hang alone could exceed the combined merit of the second through twelfth-ranked national camps. He was truly one man equaling twelve nations!!!
As for the second place, President Shen Qing, at 610,000, and the third place, himself, Zheng Yuanshan, at 480,000, there was nothing worth mentioning.
"Yang Hang..." he muttered.
The middle-aged man with glasses leaned in, his voice even lower: "Old Zheng, these numbers aren't normal. 550 million versus 610,000 for second place—that's a nine-hundred-fold difference. Within three days, there is no known way for us to achieve this."
"Except for one." Zheng Yuanshan looked up.
The two exchanged glances.
"The Cause and Effect Fate Platform."
Everyone here was a former high-level national leader; none of them were fools. The moment those four words were spoken, the implication was clear, and the middle-aged men with military backgrounds nearby understood without needing to be told.
The Fate Platform has an owner?
Once this thought emerged, the subsequent reasoning was like dominoes—the Fate Platform connected 1.4 billion people, each consuming karma points to maintain the connection, with the founder taking a cut. 1.4 billion multiplied by three days, given the help the Fate Platform brought to Yanhuang Civilization, the contribution figure of 550 million made sense.
Zheng Yuanshan raised his hand to stop the others who were preparing to speak.
"Notify the intelligence team; I want a complete analysis within a day. Who is this top-ranked person, where are they, what is their background, is it possible to find them, and find out as much as you can."
"Yes."
After everyone had withdrawn, Zheng Yuanshan stood alone in the center of the room, facing the sunken sea treasure chest fishing spot that glowed with a faint blue light. Outside the door came the sound of waves hitting the hull, one after another, in a steady rhythm. The cabin was very quiet. There was only the sound of his own breathing and the rhythm of the waves.
Zheng Yuanshan approached the fishing station and began to operate it skillfully, and then a rotten wooden chest covered in seaweed corrosion was fished up.
He didn't have any emotional fluctuation; his five fingers touched the edge of the chest lid, the wooden texture cold and rough.
He could feel something slightly vibrating under the lid, like a sleeping heart awakening. He took a deep breath and slowly opened it.
—Gold light exploded.
It wasn't the dullness of bronze, nor the coldness of silver. It was a pure, intense gold that almost set the entire cabin ablaze.
The light surged out from every pattern on the chest, projecting dense phantom runes onto the cabin walls. Those runes flashed and vanished, but each one seemed alive, leaving scorching marks in the air.
Zheng Yuanshan instinctively narrowed his eyes but did not retreat.
Fifty years of military life had taught him one thing—the more critical the moment, the less one could show weakness.
The light lasted for about three seconds and then receded like a tide.
The chest revealed its true appearance.
It was pitch black, with golden patterns covering the surface, and liquid-like light flowing within the patterns. The light flowed slowly, as if alive.
Zheng Yuanshan's pupils constricted slightly.
Gold Tier.
He had seen what bronze and silver treasure chests looked like, and he had heard team members describe the opening process of rotten wood chests. But the texture of the Gold Tier was completely on a different level.
He reached into the chest.
His fingertips touched a piece of cold metal.
He took it out.
It was a palm-sized token. With a copper base, the surface was engraved with a complex vortex emblem. In the center of the emblem was an inward depression, like the core of some kind of rune.
The moment the token was in his hand, a line of text appeared in his field of vision:
[assembly order (Gold-Tier Wonder)]
[The holder can teleport targets who agree to the assembly directly to themselves or to the location of the willing target; the target must be willing.]
[Maximum number of people to teleport: 100,000.]
[Current number of uses available: 3 (Note: Can be recharged for use once every 30 days)]
[Note: Teleportation targets must be within the range of the Magic Sea.]
Zheng Yuanshan stared at these lines, unmoving.
100,000 people.
Direct teleportation.
His hand tightened slightly, his knuckles turning white.
What did this mean?
It meant he could instantly assemble an army of 100,000 people, pull together a highly complete and massive organizational structure, and even restoring most of the government's functions was not impossible.
It also meant he could save 100,000 compatriots scattered throughout the Magic Sea.
It meant the Yanhuang Camp would possess unprecedented cohesion—wherever danger appeared, he could project troops there in the first instance.
Currently, there were three opportunities to teleport 100,000 people, and in the future, it could be recharged for use once every 30 days.
At this moment, Zheng Yuanshan teared up; the revival of Yanhuang Civilization was in sight!
It seemed that the theory analyzed by the think tank regarding the possible uses of merit value was correct; merit value could indeed influence the tier of the sunken sea treasure chest fished up.
An opportunity that could allow the collective to overtake on a bend.
"Assemble all officers above the rank of field officer; meeting in half an hour."
"Agenda: Strategic guidelines for the mobilization and use of the Gold-Tier assembly order, and—the topic of establishing contact with the Lord of the Fate Altar, provided that we ensure we do not cause any ill will from the individual codenamed [Top Ranker]."