Chapter 1795 - 923: Courtesy_2

But from start to finish, they didn't even turn on the radar targeting.

The fourth fleet, which seemed just passing by, appeared in sight, hesitated for a moment as if deliberating, and ultimately diverged its course, choosing to return.

In contrast to the calm within sight, the radar's coordinates and red dots flashed continuously as if in a conference, several times seeming to want to close the distance, but never actually approaching.

Keeping restrained, it did not open fire as usual, nor did it make any provocative actions.

"So lively, almost like a farewell."

Ji Jue took a sip of hot tea and sighed softly: "At last, a bit of courtesy is felt."

In the satellite images' aerial view, the craftsman holding a teacup finally looked up to the sky, revealing a warm smile.

Thus, all the way forward, all the way in a stalemate, all the way in farewell, until the air grew colder, until the sea gradually revealed floating ice, and snowflakes began to fall from the sky.

In the distant sky, pitch-black clouds loomed like an iron curtain, amidst the thunder, at the end of the sea, amidst countless faintly visible floating ice, a line of ships shrouded in dark clouds and thunder gradually emerged.

As if a dragon with outstretched wings hovered, coldly gazing over all the lurking shadows, soaring between the sea and sky, defiant of all.

The sound of the horn roared like a dragon's roar, resounding in all directions.

The Little Ox and Horse in the silent Prosperity ship couldn't help but roar loudly, excited and uplifted.

At the edge of the Eternal Motion Land·Northern Territory's sea, amidst these battle-stained floating ice waters, on the White River Belt, the entire Dragon Remains Fleet assembled!

As if preparing to launch a decisive battle here, ferociously aggressive.

So much so that all ships and arms following the coastal fleet fell into chaos, unable to steady their formation.

Involuntarily, they backed away, trying to distance themselves.

Yet the Dragon Remains Fleet remained still, caring not at all for the splendid outcome of potentially annihilating the enemy in one round of strikes at such close range.

Amidst the reflection of endless thunder and fire, all the crew on the deck followed the drums and horns, shouting and singing loudly.

With the highest level of etiquette, they enacted the Northern Realm's Blood Alliance, presenting honor to the distinguished guests from afar!

"Long time no see, Great Craftsman."

Ji Jue looked at Yellow Beard standing solemnly at the flagship's prow and smiled: "I seem not too late?"

"No matter how late, it is not too late, my friend, Beifeng awaits you."

In the bitter cold wind, Yellow Beard proactively extended a hand:

"Welcome to the Northern Realm!"

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As the Prosperity ship set sail towards the Northern Realm, the disputes in the West Sea did not end with temporary skirmishing; the harsher reckoning continued.

Ignoring resistance, ignoring rebuke, and even more ignoring all consequences.

Step by step, methodically, sending all the trash to where they belong.

On the coast of Central Earth, amidst desolation, a battered and hole-ridden ship lay stranded on the reefs; inside the cabin, a dusty man carried a bag, moving towards the foreshore ahead.

Blood continued to seep from his broken right wrist, in such a pitiful state.

Yet even so, when stepping onto this chaotic land, he couldn't help but smile, as if he had escaped to freedom, cheering loudly, gesturing animatedly.

Until the illusory ticking sound in his ear rang again.

His smile froze on his face.

Tick... tick... tick...

Like the illusionary ticking of a second hand, a soundless countdown, eventually reaching zero.

And then...

Boom!

A headless corpse fell backward.

At the same time, in the heart of the Seven Cities Coast, on the giant screen of Paradise's central system, amidst countless data, a trivial line of text refreshed.

[ID E001871, cleanup completed]

And then, the next one, and the next, and again...

In the satellite images' aerial view, headless corpses appeared in the bustling city, on beaches, on ship decks, in supposedly hidden shelters, and even in some readying Alchemy Workshop...

Countless tragic scenes dyed the individual partitioned screens a blood-red; the amassed scarlet seemed to drip down from the massive screen, causing every observer's face to gradually pale.

In the Punabantu, Blessing Park dining hall, clusters of newly employed ordinary workers stood rigidly, shuddering silently in the overly cold air conditioning wind.

Until suddenly, the screen went dark, and the images ceased.

A cold female voice in the broadcasting system sounded, without inflection:

"Daily three-minute entertainment time is over, five minutes remain for dining, please eat in an orderly manner and then return to your posts.

Countdown begins..."

Thus, amidst the ruthless changing numbers, employees with various tattoos or scars picked up their bowls, eyeing the nutrient bars and pasty food in their plates, not daring to hesitate, swallowing them down in large mouthfuls mixed with tears.

Today's Blessing Park remains orderly!

As for those unqualified to start anew and unwilling to quietly perish, they faced the fiercest cleanup crew...

On a Deserted Reef among the Thousand Islands, outside a seemingly rundown house, a boy who descended with a shipping container lifted his head, staring at everything before him.

"Before we begin, one last question..."

An Ran asked politely, "May I ask, is there anyone willing to surrender and then obediently go to die?"

Boom!

Gunfire rang out from the darkness, without hesitation.

Thus, amidst the storm, the boy sighed silently, once again lowering his head, donning the blood-red mask.

At the moment of four eyes meeting, in the darkness, the artificial monsters shaped from the grace of the furnace's flames opened their scarlet eyes, swarming out!

.

.

Under the same night, a Flying Airship descended into the estate outside Gray Port, where Chairman Ling, just finished with his tasks, awkwardly maneuvered a wheelchair, entering the familiar courtyard.

Looking around, commenting on the scenery, nostalgically sighing over past memories.

The wheelchair rolled over still-drying blood on the Stone Plate, a few shredded bones still clinging to the lush greenery, and floating un-retrieved corpses in the koi pond.

Such a refreshing sight.

Ling Shuo took a deep breath, bursting into laughter.

"Why didn't I notice how beautiful this place was?"

"Chairman, the front has been cleared."

The sweating subordinate ran over, face still stained with blood, smiling brilliantly: "Just now, 'Park' urgently sent over a box, said it's a gift from Mr. Ji for you."

"Where?"

Ling Shuo paused, instinctively trying to stand: "Take me there, quickly."

The subordinate pushed the wheelchair, breaking into a jog, charging into the hall, spotting a large, weighty black iron box placed at the center of an opulently furnished room.

Waiting to be opened.

Pushing the nearby subordinates aside, Ling Shuo stumbled to pick up a crowbar, jammed it into the box's crevice, leveraging all his strength to pry it open.

A sharp sound erupted, nails flying.

Breathless, nearly unable to stand, he painstakingly stepped forward, peering in.

Thus, under the reflection of the crystal chandelier, blood and stench wafted over.

Inside the box, the heavily injured old man was barely alive, writhing and convulsing vainly, trying to rise, but pinned dead onto the box by nails, at this moment the bloodied face looked up, facing Ling Shuo's barely recognizable visage, the pupils involuntarily contracted instantly.

Unable to suppress hatred and fear.

In the terror-stricken eyes, Ling Shuo's smile reflected, so joyously.

He reached out, grabbing the old man's hair, examining his face, discerning every familiar wrinkle.

"Dad, you're not dead?"