CHAPTER 889: CHAPTER 889: FIGHTING POISON WITH POISON

In the North Suburb of Evernight Harbor, near the wilderness, two trucks were parked in an open space.

The trucks’ compartments were open, revealing assault rifles polished to a glossy black.

The Hyena Gang Members standing in front of the trucks stared in awe, especially York, with a cleft in his chest, looking greedily at a large-caliber shotgun as if green light would shoot out from his eyes.

These weapons were standard equipment of the Army.

Aside from the common "Blade" assault rifles, there was even a 7mm caliber "Ripper" light machine gun!

The latter was a new light weapon designed by the Southern Legion Equipment Manufacturing Bureau for the Poluo Province War Zone based on frontline battlefield needs.

Currently, this machine gun has already been put into production, and the first batch of products has been transported to the warehouse of Evernight Harbor.

Ironically, this extremely suppressive light machine gun hadn’t yet been used by frontline troops, but it was first enjoyed by the Blackwater Alley’s gang followers.

Four "Disciples" of the Enlightenment Society stood next to the two trucks, staring intently at these villains.

Of course, they were not actual Disciples of Enlightened Society, but agents from the Garrison Intelligence Department.

They felt a deep-seated disgust for these scoundrels. However, for the sake of higher interests, they had to lower themselves to cooperate with these guys.

The same applied to Comte.

From the bottom of his heart, he despised this filthy group of hyenas, but having reached this point, all he could do was to grit his teeth and keep moving forward.

He glanced at Talan standing aside, extinguished his cigarette butt, and stomped it out on the ground.

"...I must remind you, if this batch of arms flows into civilian hands, it will greatly affect us."

Talan chuckled, thinking to himself, what does that have to do with me, but outwardly he feigned seriousness.

"I know, but regardless, their threat is still lesser than those addictive substances, isn’t it? Let those social trash kill each other, can they really overturn the heavens? Are they mightier than the 902mm cannon?"

These words made Comte feel a bit more at ease.

Meanwhile, Morse came forward after checking the equipment, returned beside Talan and Comte with a bright smile.

His attitude was much more respectful than before, like a vicious dog acknowledging its master.

If before he had doubts about the strength of the Enlightenment Society, now his heart only filled with admiration.

Two trucks of arms.

Without connections at the top of the Garrison, this wouldn’t even be imaginable!

"Are these weapons enough?" Talan smiled at the tamed hyena.

"Enough, more than enough!" Morse replied with a pleasant smile, nodding respectfully, "Give me half a day, I guarantee you a satisfactory answer."

Two trucks of arms!

Enough to arm two hundred-man teams!

Not to mention small roles like Tony, he even had confidence to take down a thousand team on the front lines!

"You better be," Comte looked at him meaningfully, turned, and went back to the sedan parked not far away.

Talan patted Morse on the shoulder with a smile, showing an expression of appreciation.

"Do a good job, this is your pledge upon joining the society!"

Suppressing his inner joy, Morse nodded and accepted the order.

"Yes!"

...

At that moment, Tony was still unaware that, before the Garrison targeted his business, a mentally unstable mad dog had already laid eyes on him by some mistake.

In the southwest corner of Blackwater Alley, at the heart of the crowded slums, there stood a canned food processing factory.

The doors and windows of the factory were tightly covered with cloth curtains, at first glance appearing to be no more than a closed down, poorly managed factory.

However, if one lifted the curtains and walked inside, they would see a bustling scene.

Armed gang members stood at the entrance to the factory, and behind the entrance they guarded, rows of long tables were arranged, resembling a non-stop assembly line.

A group of laborers from Poluo Province was busily working on the assembly line.

They ground the tranquilizers distributed to the wounded by the logistics into powder, then placed them in extraction bottles for separation, and a few experts wearing hazmat suits extracted the valuable components and concentrated them into dark green crystals.

Despite the harsh work environment and lack of necessary production protection, these laborers from Poluo Province continued working diligently with no complaints.

After all, the hourly wage here was three times what they earned in their hometowns, working hard here for a day was worth a week’s work at home.

They could endure hardships the natives of the Great Desert couldn’t without complaint, even feeling like they were getting a deal.

The gang members supervising production smoked on the side, unwilling to stay too close to the "production workshop."

The purification process required many chemical substances, some of which were strongly volatile harmful products.

Most of the noses of the Poluo people could no longer smell them, but to the gang members they were incredibly pungent.

Beside a cargo container on the second floor, a burly man was paging through the inventory list.

Standing next to him were two followers with pu-9 submachine guns tucked into their waists, while in front of him stood the factory’s manager.

The flattering smile on the manager’s face revealed the difference in identity and status between the two sides.

And indeed, the burly man was the number one formidable hand under Tony, known as "Skull Crusher" Ragu.

He was a former underground wrestling champion whose legs were broken after winning a match he shouldn’t have, later taken in by Tony and fitted with military prosthetics, thus becoming a member of the Iron Hand Gang.

Although his muscles made him look like a rough man, ironically, he was the opposite.

Because he did things with meticulous thought, had a style that was refined despite his rough appearance, and was loyal to Tony, Tony quickly entrusted him with managing the most profitable affairs of the Iron Hand Gang.

As he browsed the inventory list, Ragu asked the manager in front of him.

"How is the production of the new batch of goods going?"

The manager had a fervent smile and quickly reported.

"We have currently produced fifty kilograms! These workers from Poluo Province are getting more and more skilled, with production efficiency doubling since they first got here. We’re almost struggling to keep up with their work speed in terms of raw material supply."

"Not bad." Ragg nodded approvingly, but then quickly changed the subject, "After this batch of raw materials is used up, give the workers a two-day break and temporarily halt production."

"Halt it?" The manager was stunned, worriedly saying, "But the boss—"

"This is the boss’s decision."

Seeing the concern in the manager’s eyes, Ragg smiled faintly and continued.

"The efficiency of recovering small tablets from those big-headed soldiers is too low, and the purification cost is too high, not to mention the issue of confidentiality. Our boss has managed to secure a supply from a tier-one supplier, so we can directly use snake grass to produce Snake Oil in the future."

The manager was shocked, his face soon displaying an expression of ecstatic joy.

"Really?! That’s... amazing! If we can directly use raw materials to produce Snake Oil, our production capacity could increase fivefold—or even tenfold!"

Ragg patted him on the shoulder, smiling.

"Glad you understand. I need you to redesign a production line to use the new raw material to produce the old product."

The manager puffed out his chest, exuberantly saying.

"This is incredibly easy, leave it to me—"

Before he could finish his sentence, a deafening explosion suddenly echoed from outside the factory.

The roaring sound made everyone freeze in place, including the workers from the Poluo Country standing by the long table, whose faces all changed simultaneously.

They looked at their fellow townsfolk, exchanging panicked glances.

"What happened?"

"An explosion?"

"Damn it... Is there a war here too?!"

While they were shouting in panic, a gunshot suddenly exploded inside the factory.

Bam—!

"Quiet!"

Ragg, aiming the gun at the roof, bellowed, his rough voice instantly silencing the chaotic factory floor.

"... Store the flammable and explosive materials in the warehouse, then crouch by the wall with your hands on your head. Don’t run around and get hit by stray bullets! I won’t compensate you for your heads!"

"Security personnel, take up your weapons, it’s your time to show up, get ready to go with me!"

As he finished, he grabbed the manager who was crouching down holding his head and pushed the coward towards the stairs.

"And you! Go notify the boss! Get up and run faster, damn it!"

"Yes, yes!" the manager shouted in a flustered and distorted voice.

He’d never seen such a scene.

He quickly rushed downstairs, dashed into the security room, grabbed the phone, and reported the situation to the boss.

By now, the sound of gunfire was already erupting outside the factory, with the attackers clashing with the outer security.

Standing inside the factory, Ragg lit a cigarette, walked to a nearby window, and pulled back the curtain to observe outside.

The opposing firepower was exceptionally ferocious, all wielding fully automatic rifles, making his submachine-gun-toting underlings unable to lift their heads.

Who the hell are these guys?!

Due to concerns about alien rebellion, the Southern Legion has always strictly controlled alien weaponry.

If they were aliens, unless they became a centurion or higher in the regular army, it would be nearly impossible to legally acquire military weapons, and even if they did, they couldn’t openly possess them.

Ragg couldn’t recall any tough guys in Blackwater Alley who could get military assault rifles, and so many at once.

His boss had paid dearly to acquire a batch of PU-9 submachine guns for status!

However, this didn’t mean he was afraid of these people!

Seeing the approaching firelight outside the factory, Ragg was exceptionally calm, not panicked at all.

Others didn’t know about his boss’s connections with the military, but he was well aware.

If it were a military or garrison operation, they wouldn’t have no notice at all.

There was only one possibility: these guys were either their enemies or had targeted their business!

Thinking of this, Ragg’s expression became cold, he signaled to a nearby underling, pulling out a twin-mounted anti-aircraft cannon stored in the warehouse.

This thing had a caliber of 30 millimeters, and a single shell could cut a person in two.

The boss had instructed him not to use this unless absolutely necessary, as it would cause a lot of trouble.

But since the opposition had played hard, they couldn’t blame him!

"Move it! To the window quickly!"

Ragg shouted in a low voice, urging the underling to mount it on the window. He then climbed on, slotted the curved magazine into the slot with a "click."

The two thick, black barrels protruded from the window. Ragg firmly turned the winch, aiming the sight at the minor thugs shooting from behind cover towards the factory.

A sinister grin appeared on his face, then he pulled the trigger without hesitation.

"Bang bang bang——!!!"

A series of deafening explosions echoed in the factory grounds, trails of fire streaking like arrows!

In the face of the 30-millimeter cannon, the half-person-high low walls were like paper.

Four gang members were instantly shredded along with their cover, their mutilated bodies and rubble scattering everywhere.

Seeing the cannon aiming towards them, the young men with assault rifles were scared out of their wits, running for their lives, but the burst of shells chased them down, grinding them into a pile of bloody meat.

That bloody and brutal scene stunned all the gang members at the firefight.

Whether it was the Iron Hand Gang or those Hyena Gang members wrapped in scarves, they were all frozen with cold hands and feet, momentarily forgetting to fire.

They were not the Regular Army, after all, fighting was one thing, but who had ever seen such an incredible thing?!

Not only were these gang members shocked, but even Comte, standing not far behind them, was startled.

As an agent of the Intelligence Department, it was his first time hearing about such a big thing hidden in Blackwater Alley?!

Who the hell sold it to them?!

Is that guy insane?!

Looking at the scattered corpses in front of the factory, Lagogu had completely gone berserk from the killing.

The numbness in his arm muscles made him feel as if those shattered pieces of flesh had been chopped up by him personally.

Having emptied a magazine, he loaded a new one, raised those two thick barrels, and aimed at the factory’s enclosing wall.

Watching the small fries running away, a joyful laugh came from his mouth.

"Hahaha!!! Go to hell!!"

The firing sounds echoed throughout the factory’s plaza once again, and the Hyena Gang members besieging the factory fled in disarray.

Seeing the continuous casualties of his men, Morse’s eyes turned red, and he snatched the Iron Fist Rocket Launcher from a subordinate next to him.

"Damn it! I’m going all out with you!"

When it came to madness, no one in Blackwater Alley could compare to him.

He howled and rushed up, taking advantage of the anti-aircraft cannon not noticing him, pulling the trigger from 200 meters away.

A long flame shot out from the slender iron tube, dragging a big rocket towards the window.

Seeing the rocket coming at him, Lagogu’s eyes widened, and he instinctively dived to the side.

The explosive metal stream pierced through the anti-aircraft cannon’s gun shield in an instant, blasting the entire receiver structure into a pile of scrap iron.

The rapidly bursting ammunition scattered like fireworks, flying around the factory, with one piece almost landing in a warehouse storing flammable and explosive items.

Lagogu broke out in a cold sweat, his heart filled with shock.

He stuck his head out the window, just in time to see Morse’s annoying face and his maniacal laughter.

"Hahahaha! Tony, you hid pretty damn well, didn’t expect you had such a big thing in your pocket! Must’ve cost a pretty penny!"

Seeing the rocket launcher on Morse’s shoulder, Lagogu yelled out in surprise and anger.

"Morse, are you freaking crazy?! Do you know what you’re doing?"

"Tsk, just a small fry."

Seeing the head poking out the window, Morse smacked his lips, suddenly losing the desire to show off, and threw the scorching launcher tube to a nearby lackey.

"Brothers, charge in for me! Don’t hold back against those who resist, just leave a few obedient captives!"

Seeing the opponent’s big gun had ceased fire, the originally on-the-brink-of-collapse Hyena Gang members regained their morale and charged forward with howls.

Morse glanced back at the direction of Talan and Comte, winked at the latter, then carried a rifle and personally led a group of gang members into the factory.

The crackling sounds of gunfire came from inside the factory.

Not long after, the sound of submachine guns ceased, leaving only the sound of automatic rifles.

Furious and resisting desperately, Lagogu was eventually outnumbered; he took three shots to the chest, eyes bulging, falling to the ground.

Seeing their leader fall, the small fry of the Iron Hand Gang immediately crouched on the ground with their hands on their heads.

Listening to the noisy gunfire, Talan felt boiling blood within him, wishing he could step on the battlefield himself.

Taking a deep breath to suppress his turbulent emotions, Talan beamed at his assistant standing beside him and spoke in a slightly boastful tone.

"These people are pretty effective, aren’t they? If we used our own people, we might end up with significant casualties."

Comte reluctantly nodded, tightly sealing his mouth without saying a word.

"..."

Seeing him silent, Talan patted his shoulder.

"Let’s go take a look at our spoils."

Leaving this remark, Talan didn’t wait for Comte’s response, took the initiative to walk ahead towards the factory where the gunfire had ceased.

As he reached the factory door, a whiff of a bloody scent hit his face.

He fanned the space in front of his nose with his hands, only to see Morse, drenched in blood, carrying a head down the stairs.

Seeing Talan standing in the factory doorway, Morse sneered and tossed the head in his hand onto the ground.

"Skull Crusher, Lagogu, Tony’s confidant. Too bad that guy himself isn’t here."

The head seemed to have been chopped off with a fire axe, with traces of blunt force strikes on the neck.

Talan clicked his tongue softly, feeling no sympathy but only looked up into the factory.

"Did you find the Snake Oil?"

Morse slightly curled his lips, whistled, and said.

"Both the people and the stolen goods are here. There’s not only the list of production and stock but also Weilante laborers responsible for producing addictive products... Wonder if the latter can prove this batch’s connection to the Alliance."

Talan coughed slightly.

"That’s a bit of a stretch, Weilante laborers are everywhere, this clue alone can’t prove anything... We need more clues, preferably directly pointing to the Alliance."

"Tch, what a hassle."

Scratching the back of his head with a bloodstained hand, Morse looked back at the factory and shouted to the underlings who had already controlled the whole factory.

"York, you stay here with some men, everyone else start searching!"

Soon, energetic shouting echoed inside the factory.

"Yes!"

About thirty gang members quickly sprang into action, ransacking the warehouse.

As this group of minions rummaged around, they soon discovered new clues.

Following one of the lackeys, Talan and Mores quickly arrived at a secluded storeroom.

This seemed to be a dumping ground for waste, with several waist-high plastic bins stuffed with empty medicine packages and aluminum foil drug boards.

Picking up an empty medicine bottle from the ground, Comte frowned deeply and then his pupils contracted slightly.

"...Sharun."

Hearing the unfamiliar word slip from his lips, Talan quickly cast a questioning glance at him.

"What?"

Comte’s Adam’s apple moved as he forced out a sentence.

"...It’s Sharun, a tranquilizer specially developed by the logistics department to treat the mental trauma of the wounded."

Undoubtedly.

This is the raw material used to make snake oil!

However, why would the prescription medicine provided by the logistics department appear here, and in such quantities!

In fact, when he saw that anti-aircraft cannon, a bad feeling had already arisen in his heart.

And after seeing these empty medicine bottles, that sense of foreboding in his heart grew even stronger.

This business targeting Weilante veterans, could be backed by the military...

If that’s true, this trouble couldn’t be contained even by his commander Daniel, nor by Daniel’s commander’s commander, the Supervisor Willoby of the Guards.

Comte felt his heart nearly freeze.

Yet, aside from fear, his mind was filled with confusion.

Why?

Why was it not the Alliance who fed them poison, but those who professed to care for them the most?

His Adam’s apple bobbed as his shoulders trembled.

"...What’s wrong with you, buddy?"

Talan placed a hand on his shoulder, frowning in puzzlement.

Mores remained silent, because just then his lackey came running over, looking flustered as he spoke.

"There’s a person hiding in the security room! It’s the manager of this factory!"

Mores grabbed him by the collar and pulled him forward.

"Where is he?"

The lackey stammered nervously.

"He’s barricaded himself inside! The door’s too sturdy, we can’t get in."

"Damn useless!"

Mores cursed, wanting to call for the rocket launcher, but then remembered he only had one rocket and looked awkward.

Just then, a big shot from the Enlightenment Society resolved his embarrassment.

"Use this."

Talan kicked a bag of soda nearby, a mischievous smile on his face.

This place has nitric acid, sulfuric acid, and glycerin... With a bit of glass flask work, it’s a powerful concoction.

It’s difficult for others, but for an experienced player like him, it’s an easy task.

Mores, though puzzled and unable to understand the meaning behind his words, realized after watching him operate, and genuinely gave a thumbs up.

Knowledgeable people are admired everywhere, even in places like Blackwater Alley.

Putting the processed concoction in a glass jar, Talan carried two jars to the security room door, and personally inserted detonators into the jars.

Once he reached a safe distance, Talan, without saying a word, pressed the detonator.

With a loud "boom," the explosive flames instantly blew down the entire wall of the security room, leaving only a solitary explosion-proof door lying intact on the ground.

The explosive force perfectly met Talan’s expectations, even exceeding them.

The howling shockwave not only knocked everyone outside the "safe distance" off their feet but also covered them in dust.

The manager inside the security room was evidently dead beyond doubt, and the people in the abandoned factory were also in disarray.

Struggling to rise from the rubble, Comte cursed as he got up, sniffing the air, his expression changed instantly.

"It’s toxic! Damn it—"

His warning came a step too late.

Everyone, including Mores and Talan, instinctively sniffed the air, and then their consciousness seemed to be veiled by a transparent film, making everything before them seem surreal.

Talan vaguely realized something had happened, yet before he could react, his consciousness plunged into darkness, followed by a sensation of something encasing his head.

Bewildered, he removed the Game Helmet, glanced around the familiar surroundings, and involuntarily uttered an expletive.

"Shit!"