Volume Two: Expedition! Chapter Sixty-Eight: Hover

After ending the communication, Liu Cong let out a sigh.

For reasons unknown, the disaster in Japan was far more severe than he had anticipated. The mutated creatures here behaved differently from those in his homeland; instead of chasing the dark clouds across the world, they seemed even more aggressive, their lust for slaughter unusually heightened.

At this point, the situation was no longer about how many lives could be saved. If he didn’t hurry to the area where Masao Nakamura was located, any mishap could cost him the list he needed. In Liu Cong’s mind, saving lives and obtaining the list were equally important, but if forced to choose, he would pick the list. People could be rescued anywhere; after all, Liu Cong wasn't a deity capable of saving every soul across the land—selective salvation was enough. But the list was unique; he had to get it.

To put it crudely, before the list was in his hands, anyone could die in this land—except Masao Nakamura.

He pondered for a while, feeling his watch vibrate twice. Zhao Tian had already marked a new location, thoughtfully indicating the position of the plane as well, so Liu Cong could easily find them.

The calls below continued, and even the soldiers atop the walls joined in.

Liu Cong glanced down, a green glow enveloped him, and in an instant, he vanished from the sight of those gathered around the giant cylinder.

After marking the new location for Liu Cong, Zhao Tian leaned his head against the cabin wall and closed his eyes to rest. Only then did the ten members of the War God Squad resume their conversation.

“Captain Zhao, I just don’t get it. There’s nowhere to land in the area where Nakamura is. Why are we heading there? Wouldn’t it be better to find an airport nearby with fewer monsters and force a landing?”

Zhao Tian opened his eyes, looking at the questioning soldier, thinking to himself, “Here it comes!”

Every member of the War God Squad was a king among soldiers in their former military districts. Unlike regular officers, special forces operated on strength alone—might made right. These men, brought together in the War God Squad, were proud and arrogant, and their reluctance to accept Zhao Tian as their unknown commander was well expected.

While Liu Cong was present, they dared not act up. Now, with his influence gone, the troublemakers began to emerge. Zhao Tian had been mentally prepared for insubordination, but he hadn’t expected the first issue to be a challenge to his orders.

The one questioning him was Wang Chuan, who had been transferred from the consolidated special forces after the establishment of the No. 1 Safe Zone.

Zhao Tian gave him a cold look and replied evenly, “Watch your tone. Didn’t your previous superiors teach you how to address a leader? And have you forgotten what you’re supposed to say before speaking to your commander?”

Wang Chuan shrugged indifferently, “I came here for the War God himself, not for your discipline. Now, I doubt your command ability. Can you explain to the brothers what exactly your order means?”

“I don’t care who you came for. Now that you’re part of the War God Squad, you’re under my command! If you don’t like it, you can request to leave. You’re not indispensable here!” Zhao Tian’s gaze swept coldly over the ten soldiers.

“I know you’re all proud, but once here, you’d better put away your arrogance! Anyone who refuses to obey will be returned to their original unit—I have that authority. Wang Chuan, do you want to be the first sent back?”

No one wanted to be sent back; in the military, such an event was shameful, especially for elite troops like themselves. Being sent back could mean never lifting their heads again.

Wang Chuan’s face flushed red. He resented Zhao Tian, but Zhao had struck his weak point, leaving him no room to retort.

Zhao Tian pressed, “Answer me!”

Wang Chuan clenched his fists, veins bulging, but then his tense posture slackened. He lowered his head and replied, “I don’t want to.”

“Answer again! What do you say before speaking to your superior during a mission?”

“Report! I don’t want to!” Wang Chuan shouted.

Satisfied at last, Zhao Tian nodded. “I know why you’re here. Even I came because of the War God. The War God Squad is an elite unit—if we’re elite, we should act like it. I don’t demand absolute discipline, just obedience.”

Zhao Tian had activated his earpiece when Wang Chuan first spoke, so this exchange was transmitted to the soldiers in the other four planes. Hearing this, many set aside their ambitions. Opportunities to stand out were plentiful, but being sent back was truly disgraceful.

Zhao Tian looked at Wang Chuan again and said, “Now I’ll answer your question. The order to go to Nakamura’s safe zone came directly from the commander. If you have doubts, ask him yourself.”

Wang Chuan lowered his head in dejection. He’d been reprimanded by Zhao Tian—how could he dare challenge Liu Cong?

----

Ten minutes later, Liu Cong caught up with the transport fleet.

Five transport planes flew in a line through the sky, like five great birds. Liu Cong flew straight to the top of the first plane and sat there.

“Captain Zhao, I’m on the roof of the plane. When we arrive, I’ll handle the landing. You just need to tell Masao Nakamura to clear a space for us.”

Zhao Tian looked up in surprise at the cabin ceiling, wishing he could see Liu Cong’s silhouette through the iron shell, silently marveling at his superior’s ability to appear and disappear without a trace.

After another half hour of flight, Liu Cong saw a cluster of buildings below. Checking the coordinates on his watch, he confirmed they were approaching Masao Nakamura’s safe zone.

“Commander, we’ll be overhead in one minute,” Zhao Tian reminded him.

Liu Cong understood the implied meaning. “Tell them to shut down the plane engines. I’ll take control from here.”

He had expected to explain further to Zhao Tian, but Zhao agreed without hesitation, asking no questions.

Once the order was given, the pilots exchanged glances. To shut down the engines and let the planes lose power at altitude was tantamount to suicide. Yet Zhao Tian’s words still rang in their ears: “Just do it. This is the commander’s request.” They could only comply.

What astonished them was that, after cutting the engines, the planes showed no signs of falling. Glancing at the adjacent aircraft, they noticed a shimmering green aura enveloping the fuselage.

The five transport planes slowed, finally hovering eerily above the safe zone. The people below, long informed of the arrival of the “Sword Immortal of China,” gathered in the streets, craning their necks to the sky. Seeing the five planes hovering motionless overhead, many rubbed their eyes in disbelief.

Was this an illusion?

Masao Nakamura, prepared to welcome the guests from China, had cleared a landing area. He had assumed the arriving aircraft would be helicopters, given their ability to land anywhere, but instead, it was five transport planes, hovering improbably above.

He knew these models well—they were incapable of hovering. Besides helicopters, no aircraft could do such a thing. Witnessing this, he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Has China developed some new technology? To make such massive transport planes hover in the air is truly unbelievable!”

His trusted aide, watching above with concern, said, “Sir, with technology this advanced, China surely has no need for our high-tech equipment. Why would they agree to send us aid? Do they have another motive?”

Masao Nakamura forced a bitter smile. The matter of spies planted by Anbei in China’s high ranks was something he had never shared. If word got out, both China and Japan would lose face, so they had signed a confidentiality agreement to bury the secret together.