22: Chapter 22 Silencing someone is like putting out a fire; both involve extinguishing a witness.

Time quickly passed to one month later, and the air of the Hive City seemed to be filled with the scent of anxiety.

As everyone had expected, Martha's Silver Thorn Family had made their move. The supply to the Mid-Hive's Promethium Factory was completely cut off, more and more vehicles became mere decorations, and public security collapsed along with it.

The residents of the Mid-Hive began to frantically hoard supplies, leading to several outbreaks of violent conflict.

Wade had no way to deal with it at all.

Furthermore, if things dragged on any longer, even the Guard Regiment's armored vehicles would grind to a halt.

Right now, unless they could retake the Promethium Factory in the Underhive and break the Silver Thorn Family's blockade, no other solution would work.

However, Wade didn't wait for a countermeasure; instead, he received instructions to attack.

“Colonel Wade, we only have 3,000 men, while the other side has 200,000. Even if they're a bunch of rookies, if each person fires one shot, they can kill us all.”

“Besides, that's the Promethium Factory. It has 12 sentry towers and 2 Laser Guns. Every time we simulate a frontal assault, we end up with a total wipeout!”

“Exactly! Even if we launch a surprise attack at night, the factory's Auspex can detect heat sources within 5 kilometers. Even if we're driving, we're still sitting ducks. We'll be locked onto as soon as we get close. How is that any different from sending us to our deaths?!”

Wade didn't respond, instead looking up at the distant factory.

In the darkness, that building looked like a crouching giant beast.

The only passage was a massive bridge thirty meters wide and one kilometer long!

Wade also knew a frontal assault was hopeless, but he still growled and cursed, “What are you all arguing about! The Governor said he has a trump card. What are you afraid of!”

Despite his words, the crowd's concerns did not dissipate.

Just then, ten container trucks slowly drove up.

Fu Haoran jumped down from the first truck.

“Is everything ready?” Fu Haoran asked.

“Yes, My Lord.”

Fu Haoran nodded with satisfaction. “Alright, let's head out. Once you see my signal, launch the general offensive.”

“Remember, your task is to lead the men across the bridge. Leave the rest to me.”

“Yes.” Wade didn't ask any more questions.

His Governor never disappointed.

...

At dusk, the armored convoy slowly set off, headlights extinguished, heading toward the Promethium Factory bridge under the cover of night.

After watching the convoy leave, Fu Haoran didn't stay idle either. He opened the containers, revealing rows of drones!

The bodies of these drones were made of engineering plastic, sprayed with the words 'Firefighting Drone.' They had a large head and an engine mounted at the tail.

These were the drones built by Professor Wang and his team. The engines were from motorcycles, the bodies were injection-molded engineering plastic, the flight control boards were hand-soldered using open-source designs, and the warheads were modified from civilian gas tanks... altogether, they cost 9,800 yuan.

Less than ten thousand.

500 units cost less than 5 million, which was not even half the price of a single US military drone—even for the cheapest model.

It was less than the spare change of a US MQ-9 Reaper drone. Fu Haoran felt that even if a hundred of them crashed, he wouldn't feel a hint of heartache.

The operation was incredibly simple, using black-and-white visuals. Although the picture looked cheap, the benefit was that it provided night vision.

Furthermore, Professor Wang and the others had thoughtfully programmed them to be able to loiter and dive toward fixed coordinates.

As for the lack of autonomous recognition or evasive maneuvers... in Fu Haoran's view, these were minor issues.

After all, all shortcomings could be solved with quantity.

“Alright, tonight's show is about to begin. Let's go.”

At Fu Haoran's command, the 500 drones took off in batches from the containers.

The drones ascended and flew straight toward the Promethium Factory without any detours. The buzzing of the motorcycle engines blended together, sounding exceptionally piercing in the night.

Incidentally, to maximize control efficiency, all the pilots were Servitors. Their Cogitator units were just enough to handle simple flight commands.

They almost never made mistakes.

In a sense, this achieved a form of 'intelligence.'

...

Exactly midnight.

The armored convoy's engines growled low as they drove toward the bridge.

Wade sat in the lead vehicle, staring at the tactical screen.

They were six kilometers from the bridgehead. Any closer and they would be discovered.

“Slow down, stop,” Wade ordered.

The convoy stopped.

The soldiers gripped their guns, looking at the fortress standing in the distant darkness.

“What exactly is the signal the Governor mentioned...” The adjutant hadn't finished his sentence.

The first explosion rang out.

“Why is the factory exploding?!”

No one could answer that question.

While everyone was still wondering if the explosion just now was an accident, a second and third explosion rang out.

Well, Wade didn't need to say it; everyone knew this was the 'attack signal' the Governor had spoken of.

“What are you all standing around for?! Charge the factory at full speed!” Wade roared excitedly.

...

Going back a few minutes.

Scarface was a small-time leader in the Iron Hand Gang, in charge of the factory's outer wall.

With a cigarette in his mouth, he bragged to his subordinates: “The new Governor? Heh, I heard he's just a green kid. Word is he only got the position by selling out his brothers.”

“Someone like that dares to attack us? Tell me, isn't he overestimating himself?!”

His subordinates chimed in one after another: “Exactly! Everyone knows this place is easy to defend and hard to attack.”

“Back then, if an insider hadn't secretly opened the gate, even the old Governor's fifty thousand regular troops wouldn't have been able to break in.”

...

Scarface was very satisfied with his lackeys' agreement. He continued, “The boss is worrying for nothing. An outsider Governor dares to touch our territory?”

“But it's good this way. At least someone is delivering weapons and equipment to us.”

“Right, I heard they were sent by the nobles of the Upper Nest.”

Just as Scarface was about to reveal more 'insider info,' a lackey suddenly shouted, “Boss, I think I hear a buzzing sound.”

Scarface raised his hand and slapped him, cursing, “You're seeing ghosts! It's just the wind. If you keep talking nonsense, I'll throw you to guard the underground tunnels!”

But the buzzing sound became clearer and clearer, like countless flies circling his ears. Just as someone was about to speak up again, the next second...

Boom!

An open-air sentry tower blew apart. The gunner was thrown by the blast, his body slamming heavily onto the ground in a bloody mess. Shrapnel splashed near Scarface's feet.

Scarface froze instantly, the cigarette in his mouth falling to the ground as he shouted, “Enemy attack! Enemy attack!”

Then another sentry tower exploded.

It wasn't a ground attack; it was coming from the sky.

A small, dusty-gray aircraft crashed into a sentry tower's firing slit. Immediately after, flames erupted, and the explosion blew away half the tower's body.

The machine gunner inside didn't even have time to scream before being turned into shredded meat.

A piece of debris splashed near Scarface's feet—a twisted piece of engineering plastic.

“Shit! Enemy attack!” Scarface hissed as he grabbed the Auspex at his waist.

The screen lit up, showing a dozen small red dots rushing in. Their speed wasn't particularly fast.

“What the hell are these?” Scarface frowned.

He raised his Laser Gun and fired randomly into the sky.

The surrounding gang members followed suit, and laser beams and solid rounds streaked through the night sky.

They actually managed to hit a few.

A drone was hit and wobbled as it fell, crashing into the perimeter wall.

Just as Scarface was about to laugh, the aircraft exploded with a roar.

It wasn't an ordinary explosion.

The flames were mixed with a blinding silvery-white—aluminum powder was burning.

The explosion radius wasn't large, but it sprayed countless metal fragments—fingernail-sized iron nails, glass shards, and plastic bits—scattering in all directions like buckshot.

Screams erupted.

The three gang members closest to it clutched their faces and fell. One had his eye pierced by a fragment, blood gushing from between his fingers.

Another had an iron nail stuck in his throat, making a wheezing sound as he gasped for air.

Scarface was stunned.

“This thing... it still explodes even after crashing?”

He looked down at the Auspex.

The red dots on the screen had increased.

It wasn't just a dozen; it was dozens. No, hundreds.

The buzzing sound surged from all directions, getting louder and louder, as if a hornet's nest had been stirred.

Scarface looked up and saw things flying in the night sky—many, many of them, densely packed like a migrating 'flock of birds.'

The problem was, they weren't birds!

They were aircraft.

Small, ugly, crude aircraft.

“Shoot! Everyone shoot!” Scarface roared, his voice trembling at some point.

Recalling the scene after an explosion, when he saw a fragment of a drone wreck printed with the words 'Firefighting Drone' in High Gothic, his mental state completely shattered.

“What firefighting? This is fucking silencing us?!”