Chapter 772.1: To Scam Thy Enemy, Scam Thyself First
Chapter 772.1: To Scam Thy Enemy, Scam Thyself First
North Island Naval Command.
Hurried footsteps and overlapping conversations echoed throughout the crowded headquarters as personnel rushed busily from station to station. Ever since the incident on Sandbar Island, a fuse had been attached to the powder keg that was the Southern Seas. All it needed was a single spark to set it off.
This silent war had entered its most critical stage. The stakes on the table continued to rise, and both sides had drawn their cards close while their nerves stretched taut.
The headquarters serving as the command center of the entire Federation Navy was particularly busy. Many officers had already been working overtime for an entire month. Chalas had even moved his office out of the presidential palace and into the headquarters, leaving the tedious and inconsequential affairs of daily governance to the puppet vice president he had appointed.
No matter how badly the country was governed, his position as president would remain secure. However, if he lost the war, he would lose everything.
He understood perfectly well which mattered more.
September dragged into October, and in a few more days, a new destroyer would be launched. It would be the newest and most advanced destroyer in the history of the North Island Federation. Although it would not be enough to alter the entire course of the war, it would at least add another chip to his hand.
Just as Chalas patiently awaited the opportunity for a decisive battle, the situation suddenly took a new turn. Moreover, it was a turn in the North Island Federation’s favor.
The Reef, which had previously been captured by the Southern Sea New Alliance, suddenly transmitted a telegram. Not only did the message reveal the ship’s patrol route and information concerning the Southern Sea New Alliance, it also expressed resentment over the Southern Sea New Alliance’s extreme distrust toward its crew, along with a desire to return to the North Island Federation.
That brought up the Southern Sea New Alliance’s policy regarding their captured vessel.
Because the Southern Sea New Alliance lacked a sufficient reserve of officers and had no experienced sailors capable of completely replacing the Reef’s original crew, its authorities had retained 80% of the destroyer’s original complement. The remaining 20% had been replaced with Southern Sea New Alliance supervisors, who controlled the destroyer’s communications, radar, daily security, and other critical functions.
The Reef was effectively operating under constant surveillance. Like a blindfolded donkey, it could only receive operational orders one-sidedly from the command headquarters on Peace Island. It could neither participate in discussions concerning operational plans nor speak at military briefings.
The lives of every officer and sailor aboard the destroyer lacked any guarantee of safety. Even the supervisors assigned to monitor the Reef felt deeply uneasy, while growing increasingly dissatisfied with Commander Li Minghui’s arbitrary and domineering leadership.
If they were going to serve an autocrat either way, why not choose the stronger one?
Zhang Ruowen, who remained captain of the destroyer Reef, successfully bribed one of the supervisors responsible for operating the radio. During a gap in the watch rotation, he transmitted the coded message to North Island.
From both a logical and emotional perspective, the story made sense.
The captain of the Reef had not surrendered voluntarily. He had been captured by the New Alliance’s crabs. Although he still occupied the captain’s chair, he had only retained his position because circumstances left the Southern Sea New Alliance with no alternative. It was perfectly understandable that they did not trust him.
Had the Southern Sea New Alliance possessed another senior officer capable of assuming command, they would undoubtedly have replaced him without hesitation. They might even have sent him before a military tribunal.
Of course, North Island Naval Command did not immediately respond to the coded message. Instead, it patiently waited several days. Only after confirming that the destroyer Reef was indeed following the patrol route described in the message did they establish contact through the method specified within it.
The two sides discussed a full series of operational details over the communications channel, including the extraction route and measures for intercepting any pursuers, ensuring that the destroyer could return intact to North Island’s military harbor.
Should the operation succeed, it would undoubtedly deliver an enormous boost to the morale of North Island’s military and civilian population.
Chalas had personally directed the entire rescue plan. He had carefully reviewed every detail, striving to ensure that nothing could possibly go wrong. Yet just as the operation was about to begin, a faint sense of unease stirred within him. Looking repeatedly toward the staff officer standing beside him, he asked once more, “Is the intelligence reliable?”
The staff officer immediately replied, “There shouldn’t be any mistake.”
Chalas nodded, but his eyelid continued twitching violently. Unable to suppress his misgivings, he asked again, “Could it be a trap?”
“It should–” The staff officer had intended to say that it should not be, but after being questioned repeatedly, even he began to doubt himself. After hesitating for quite some time, he finally said, “The possibility of it being a trap is very small.”
Chalas suddenly said, “In other words, the possibility still exists.”
Of course it did. A person could choke to death while drinking water, let alone during an operation involving so many complicated steps.
“Yes.” The staff officer nodded, watching him intently as he waited for an order.
Chalas frowned and fell into thought, suddenly becoming indecisive.
Nothing had gone smoothly lately. First, they had lost Sandbar Island. Then they had lost the Reef. The entire North Island Federation was gripped by anxiety.
Even worse, the wasteland factions that had once avoided one another like the plague had suddenly united. He had heard that even the natives of the Poro Province had gone to Ten Peaks Mountain to join the fighting. The situation was becoming increasingly unfavorable for the Torch Church.
Although he did not know how the war in the north was progressing, the flames had already spread into Ocean Edge Province. No matter how one interpreted the situation, it was difficult to call that an advantage.
The Torch Church was stalling for time while attempting to strengthen its forces in the Southern Seas and open up strategic space to the south.
The same strategy applied equally well to the Southern Sea New Alliance. Although its fleet was slightly weaker, it could still keep his forces tied down and preserve the current stalemate. Once the war against the Torch Church ended, everything would naturally be decided as well.
All the pressure in the south rested entirely on him. Even if only for his own sake, he had to help the Torch Church open a strategic corridor southward.
Just as he was about to make his decision, a deafening voice suddenly rang beside his ear. “Idiot! It’s a trap!”
Arzu abruptly appeared beside Chalas, startling him.
Only Chalas could see the pale golden figure. Everyone else turned confused gazes toward him, unable to understand why he had suddenly reacted that way.
Chalas jolted awake as a bead of cold sweat slowly rolled down his forehead.
That was close!
He had nearly fallen for it!
In truth, he should have realized it sooner. Even before Arzu spoke, he had already sensed that something was wrong.
During the previous landing operation on Sandbar Island, Captain Zhang Ruowen of the Reef had clearly refused to carry out his orders. Instead of bombarding the settlement, he had fired the shells into the outskirts beyond it.
The Mutant Humans who landed had then been focus fired upon by the New Alliance’s airborne forces, and an entire 1,000-man-strong unit had been annihilated.
That man had already demonstrated his willingness to obey Chalas’s orders only in appearance while secretly defying them. How could he possibly have changed his mind?
He might fear facing a Southern Sea New Alliance military tribunal, but did he not fear being held accountable by Chalas?
Seeing that Chalas remained silent, Arzu, standing beside him like a ghost, slowly said, “I implanted a Sanctuary within Zhang Ruowen. He has already defected to the Southern Sea New Alliance. This supposed desertion is merely bait. They intend to lure your battleship Ocean Edge out of port, then sink it with the aid of their new equipment, a massive submarine capable of launching and recovering the New Alliance’s planes.”
Each Sanctuary existed independently of the others. However, whenever network conditions permitted, they exchanged information with one another beyond the control of their hosts.
Just moments earlier, while North Island Naval Base had been conducting its scheduled communication with the destroyer Reef, Arzu had sensed a message transmitted by the chip implanted within Zhang Ruowen.
The supposed desertion was merely bait. The Southern Sea New Alliance fleet was lying in ambush nearby.
Chalas narrowed his eyes and glanced toward Arzu. “When did this happen?”
“Recently,” Arzu answered calmly.
Chalas continued, enunciating every word. “I asked when you implanted a Sanctuary inside the head of one of my officers.”
Faced with that accusatory stare, Arzu chuckled, the corner of his mouth curling with mockery. “He was already an Apostle of Torch before your Southern Archipelago Federation fell apart... Why are you questioning me in that tone? Had I not prepared for this contingency in advance, you and your fleet would already have flown blindly into the Southern Sea New Alliance’s trap like headless insects. You should be thanking me for saving your life.”
Chalas sneered. “I didn’t need you to tell me. I had already guessed that it was a trap.”
“Is that so?” Arzu smiled noncommittally, then silently vanished from beside the command table as though he had never been there.
Pairs of eyes remained fixed on Chalas. Every officer waited for their leader’s orders.
Composing his turbulent emotions, Chalas cleared his throat, swept his gaze across everyone gathered around the table, and spoke in a slow, measured voice. “This is a trap.”
A commotion swept through the command room. The officers exchanged stunned glances.
“We certainly cannot rule out that possibility...” The fleet commander rubbed his chin, his expression gradually turning grave.
The staff officer beside him also nodded. “I was thinking the same thing...”
The very people who had been discussing the details of the rescue operation only moments earlier abruptly reversed themselves by a full 180 degrees. One after another, they declared that the situation could indeed be a trap, offering well-reasoned analyses and speaking as though the conclusion had always been obvious.
Seeing how swiftly they changed direction, Chalas felt the muscles between his brows twitch, though he said nothing.
In truth, he understood the problem clearly. It was something nearly every autocrat inevitably encountered.
Once a person had been branded with the ideological command that they could never never disobey, they inevitably lost the ability to think in reverse. They could not maintain the single-minded unity of worker bees while simultaneously expressing an opinion on how the hive should be built that differed from the queen’s. Not even when it concerned their own professional expertise.
The moment he became an autocrat, he had condemned himself to hear only what he wanted to hear.
People would merely follow his words to their logical conclusion, whether consciously or unconsciously, even in the professional fields where he genuinely wished to hear differing opinions.
Thus, when he said they should rescue the Reef, even the most experienced officers had not dared to think against the direction he had established. They had considered only how to rescue it, never whether it could be rescued at all.
Fortunately, he had discovered the trap in time. Otherwise, they would nearly have fallen into the pit dug by the enemy.
“Are we abandoning the Reef?” the fleet commander asked, cautiously seeking the boss’s opinion.
Just as rescuing the Reef had once been unquestionable, the idea that “the Reef is a trap” had now become the new unquestionable truth.
“Abandon it? Why would we abandon it?” Chalas smiled faintly and continued in his unhurried manner. “To facilitate their attack, the Southern Sea New Alliance fleet must be lying in ambush somewhere near the Reef. That includes the submarine mentioned in the intelligence report, the one capable of launching and recovering New Alliance planes.”
The officers exchanged glances and whispered among themselves for a moment.
That was certainly possible. In fact, it was almost certain.
Sweeping his gaze across his assembled commanders, Chalas clenched his right fist and brought it down heavily upon the command table. “Gentlemen! This is a trap, but it is also an opportunity! The traitors in the south still do not know that we have seen through their scheme. Our dagger is already pressed against their throats! The new operational plan will be codenamed ‘Run Aground’! It will proceed simultaneously with Operation ‘Homecoming’!”
“Respond to the Reef! Tell them that our preparations are complete and order them to rendezvous at the coordinates we designate!”
The officers snapped to attention and saluted.
“Yes, sir!”
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