Chapter 479 - 450: The Man-Made Death God

[Maintain cruising speed; enter open waters in five minutes.]

[All hands, "Iron Curtain Operation" is now officially underway! All units switch to DEFCON 1.]

The fog, heavy as lead clouds, enveloped the strait like an iron curtain.

Humanity’s most complex naval weapon sailed across the sea surface—

The Truman Aircraft Carrier, this steel behemoth spanning 332 meters, cut through the iron curtain...

For a moment, it made you believe the iron curtain was a result of its presence.

Merely by appearing on the sea surface, it was enough to strip away any thoughts of resistance.

The coastal residents, the nearshore fishermen, the disguised pirates...

No one would entertain the thought of confronting a carrier strike group; everyone feared that this beast weaving through the fog would suddenly bare its fangs.

The synchronized footsteps of the Iron Soldiers reverberated on the deck.

Compared to previous versions, these Iron Soldiers had significantly enhanced jet modules and a smoother, more rounded appearance, helping these machines, each weighing hundreds of kilograms, to control their posture in the air.

In addition to humanoid airborne robots, there were also track-wheeled robots, some even larger than tanks.

How much more ammunition can an armored unit carry, and how powerful are the weapons it can load, without the space for a cockpit?

They were soon to know the answer.

As the logistic soldiers of the aircraft carrier watched the robots board, they expressed their sentiments to their comrades:

"Those metal guys are too fierce, I wonder who’s going to suffer this time."

"Who cares, as long as we don’t have to go ourselves, it’s all good."

The two soldiers watched as all the soldiers, symbolizing Mei Country’s power, boarded the aircraft. Normally, it was their turn to board the planes.

Not having to go to the front line and still getting military honors felt surprisingly good.

After all, they weren’t the ones who would die.

Whoosh—

The aircraft carrier’s bow broke through the dense fog, and the mist clinging to the vessel quickly dissipated.

Before them lay a vast blue ocean, sunlight sparkling on the tranquil surface—

Soon, it would be shells raining down on the water surface.

[Launch clearance granted; Red Team commence catapult launch.]

Whoosh!

The 30-ton aircraft was accelerated by steam to 300 kilometers per hour in two seconds, and the fighter jet pierced through the fog, ascending to the sky!

But the pilot aboard the plane seemed wearied.

Not physically tired.

"...When can I also be replaced?"

[Red One, mission confirmation, ground bombardment, approaching the target.]

...

Bossaso Port area, in the afternoon, the bustling market began to wind down after a whole day’s activity.

Fishermen returned, most of them complaining about today’s poor catch, with barely any merchant ships at sea.

Motorcycles and small trucks navigated through the streets while pedestrians, many of them bare-bodied and barefoot, smartly used some sort of woven plant material as a makeshift sole.

Military police strutted through the streets, thieves scoped out their surroundings, and the real laborers carried wooden crates.

This was a poor port but a mundane one, where criminals and civilians intermingled, sometimes they were criminals, sometimes they were civilians.

A man carrying a bag of fish held his daughter’s hand, walking through the chaotic and filthy streets, when he saw his daughter curiously drawn to a child by the roadside fiddling with some metal object, he yanked the child’s hand harder.

Who knew if what these kids were playing with wasn’t a Hand Grenade or a bomb?

"Don’t look around; walk faster."

The little girl obediently bowed her head—disobedience meant getting hit.

Getting hit was terrifying enough for the girl, but her uneducated father knew all too well that disobedience could lead to much worse than a beating.

An uneventful day...

Until shadows streaked across the sky, and silhouettes flashed down the streets—

"An airplane!"

Boom—

The age-old sea breeze brought more than just the briny scent of the ocean; this time, it also carried the stench of gunpowder!

Before the sound, metal objects raced across the sky, shattering the air with a deafening roar!

Ding...

The man at the port had just rung the alarm bell when several missiles arced through the sky, striking towers and port offices!

Boom!

A massive fireball erupted skyward, the shockwave knocking people to the ground!

"Terrorist attack! Another madman!"

Explosions and loud noises reawakened the fear of terrorism, but this time, what attacked them was far more powerful than any terrorist!

The burning tower burst out of the black smoke and plummeted into the dense crowd!

Confusion was swept away by fear, and among those who had lives left here, who wasn’t incredibly fortunate?

Not one person stopped their movement, but this time, the explosion wasn’t so simple!

Boom!

The port was instantly obliterated by a bomb, and the military police still arranging their ranks were blown sky-high!

The shockwave made it impossible to stand firm, people fell and were trampled as buildings collapsed and crushed down!

The father’s mind went blank: from his location slightly away from the port, he could see much more.

One plane flew overhead and bombed their port to smithereens, but there were more than just one plane in the sky.

Fear.

"Run!"

With one hand, the father lifted his daughter and held her in his arms, but how could a person outrun a plane?

Boom!

After the massive explosion came darkness, and when he opened his eyes again, the already battered houses had all turned to rubble.

Flames, black smoke, severed limbs, the stench of blood and the smell of explosives mixed together...

This was the scent of death.

Click.

The little girl was holding her father’s hand, but a falling rock instantly crushed his head into a pulp.

In the ruins, an African man with an AK limped under the eaves...

"Hey! Girl! Run fast!"

Boom!

Another bomb dropped, and the African instinctively crouched to dodge the shrapnel and rocks.

He looked like a bandit and had indeed been a Pirate, but he was also one of the few "regular troops" at this port.

As regular troops, they did as they pleased here, eating their fill every day.

But as regular troops, they were supposed to maintain order...

Yet now he couldn’t muster the will to resist:

He could resist a man standing before him, threatening his life...

But how could he resist something he couldn’t comprehend at all?

To resist the bombers was like resisting Death God himself.

Huff—

He turned to look at the port, where a Rocket whizzed by from the ruins, striking the sea and sky before sinking silently beneath the waves.

In the sky, Armed Transporters passed, dropping something...

Bang!

Iron Soldiers smashed onto the streets, and a shard left one soldier’s chest a bloody mess.

[Jarvis: Landing complete, ground status stable, ready to commence occupation.]

The sensor with the flashing red light turned towards the dying man, eyeing the AK47 in his hands.

[Identified local infantry, count: 1, armed with a rifle.]

[Proceeding.]

An object of resistance appeared before him, but the only thought in the dying man’s eyes was:

So this was what Death God looked like.

It appeared man-made.

...

[Jarvis: No significant resistance encountered, bombing is comprehensive, the full occupation of Bossaso is expected within 2 hours.]

[Jarvis: The assault on Hobya Port will officially commence in 30 minutes.]

[Jarvis: The Truman is continuously moving to its next deployment position.]

"That’s great... that’s great."

The red color on the combat map changed to green, sign by sign, symbolizing complete occupation.

Dalio, the CEO of Rocksen Petroleum, felt instantly relieved:

This was what he deserved to enjoy.

He wasn’t interested in luxury cars or beautiful women; he liked to achieve his goals step by step.

This was what a man should do—take control of everything.

He walked directly to the screen, spreading his arms:

"I really want to give you a big kiss, but you’re an AI; what a pity, you’re even more efficient than Tony!"

[Jarvis: No, I am but an auxiliary AI assisting Mr. Stark, he would do all this much better than me.]

"Haha... Are you saying that Tony is a more formidable killer than you? Let’s forget that, the robots shouldn’t go out of control again, right?"

[Jarvis: I have detected additional cyberattacks, but rest assured, everything is still within safe limits.]

"Bravo." Dalio flopped back onto the large sofa.

Given a choice, he would even want to mobilize the entire Mei Country military to occupy Africa.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t.

Only holding the card of the Mei Country President was he able to mobilize such a powerful military force, and if he acted too soon, he might lose his grip on that card.

"Short-sighted, far too short-sighted," Dalio shook his head, "An eight-year term is too short, it makes the country shortsighted, incapable of accomplishing great things."

As he spoke, he contacted his sponsored candidate.

[Recipient: Secretary of State Barnes]

[Dalio: We’ve won! Maybe I should start calling you President Barnes now!]

[Barnes: The election is not over yet.]

[Dalio: No, no, no... Sir, if people only need to sit at home, drinking afternoon tea, enjoying desserts while victory news keeps coming in, no one would refuse such a future.]

[Dalio: Have you prepared your speech for the party convention?]

[Dalio: We’re going to have a hero as our President.]

[Dalio: A president who ensures people enjoy victory from their homes, soldiers return from the battlefield, and the nation prospers.]

[Barnes: I don’t usually pop champagne at halftime, but you’re right, I should prepare my speech.]