Abyss Solo-Chapter 141 - : 085 Attack of Feinan [Seeking initial subscription!]

Chapter 141: 085 Attack of Feinan [Seeking initial subscription!]

Ding, ding —

It was as if a few coins were spinning in a metal bowl, filling Yang Ming’s ears with a buzzing sound.

He lay trembling on the silver-gray floor, his body shivering, and the large burn mark on his back healing at a speed visible to the naked eye, with wisps of steam continuously dispersing from the wound.

The pain, like tearing open the skin repeatedly, made Yang Ming keep growling lowly.

The flash of fire from the explosion of the anti-Mecha missile still flooded his mind.

Damn it!

These bastards!

These bastards from the New Federation!

Are they trying to kill the confidant of the Second Prince as a gift for the Third Prince?

“Lyu!”

Yang Ming gritted his teeth and shouted.

“Master,” a slight flicker of light immediately appeared beside him, and Lyu’s realistic holographic projection instantly took shape.

In the corridor, two tracked robots rushed over, carrying a first aid kit and a case of drinking water.

Lyu’s body seemed to be substantial, picking up the first aid kit directly, opening it, and retrieving a sedative, kneeling beside Yang Ming, and injecting it near the wound on his back.

Yang Ming’s growls gradually faded, leaving only his heavy breathing.

Lyu brought a distilled water bag to let Yang Ming replenish his consumed fluids in time.

He didn’t know how many hours had passed, but the last piece of blackened skin fell off Yang Ming’s back, which had already recovered to smoothness and cleanliness, with even a faint sheen emanating from the skin.

The two oval-headed, trapezoidal-bodied track robots slowly retreated.

Lyu quietly knelt beside him, eyes closed, as if performing some kind of religious ritual.

The cabin fell silent.

This was the bridge of the Feinan.

The Feinan, modified by the Patroller, Tomb Guardian, and Examiner, had lost its innocence as a backup pirate ship, and all that was visible was… technology and cruelty.

This hundred-meter gunship, originally without a Main Cannon and shaped like pliers, had transformed remarkably.

Its overall shape resembled a hawk gliding with wings fully extended to a span of about one hundred and sixty meters, its elegant form seemingly mocking the current Galaxy human ship aesthetics by some secondary civilization.

Since the optical stealth had been activated, the Feinan only left a faintly distorted light in the black hole-like space.

The bridge lay within the hawk’s head, a hundred-plus square meters filled with equilateral triangle elements.

A highly centralized main control console, along with a somewhat lonely chair, occupied the core position at the front of the bridge.

The control console was flanked by vacant spaces, hiding two single-person escape pods, allowing the pilot to leave the ship promptly.

Extending to the left and right, a series of precision instruments were evenly arranged: emergency pods, nutrition pods, encrypted communications devices, ship self-monitoring panels, skin hardening devices… All kinds of instruments the captain might need were arranged methodically in a semicircle.

The largest device was the Particle Transmission Machine, which almost took up one-tenth of the bridge’s volume, shaped like an inverted pyramid and placed at the bridge’s center.

— Those three old guys really liked this inverted pyramid design.

Yang Ming was now lying beneath the triangular tip of the Particle Transmission Machine, quickly recovering his strength under Lyu’s care.

“How long has it been?” Yang Ming asked.

“Five hours have passed, boss.”

Lyu’s realistic projection opened its eyes, eyes that were calm and profound.

“Boss, you should prioritize your safety, I am your parasitic Mechanical Thought Body, if you die, I’ll disappear too, and this time, we had ample time to escape from danger.”

Yang Ming slowly climbed up, moving his somewhat numb back.

“Aren’t we still alive? Everything was within my ingenious calculations, no need to worry.”

When Yang Ming said this, he was a bit guilty.

However, he was confident in surviving such an explosion, which was why he chose the route with the greatest benefit among all the options.

“There was absolutely no need for us to be in such a sorry state,” Lyu insisted.

Yang Ming skeptically smirked, taking off his tattered military uniform.

Nearby, a tracked robot delivered a combat suit, which Yang Ming quickly wrapped himself in; the binding feel of the composite fiber made him feel much more at ease.

Lyu continued to sulk.

Yang Ming sat back in the captain’s chair, swiftly activating the two rows of buttons in front of him, with a string of data appearing on the smooth porthole in front of him, and a beautiful planet projection emerging next to the control console.

Ilando Star.

The Feinan was now about half an hour’s journey from Ilando Star.

“Who did it?” Yang Ming asked softly.

Lyu floated beside Yang Ming, with her twin ponytails drifting behind her, her dainty feet maintaining a two-millimeter distance from the silver-gray deck.

“Lulian,” she replied.

“Damn,” a trace of ruthlessness crossed Yang Ming’s eyes, “Where is he now?”

“Fifth Administrative Star, in the city of Lorilan, occupied by rebel forces, with about twelve hundred New Federation troops stationed in a mall, including special forces, instructors training the rebels, and a covert team.”

Yang Ming asked, “Can we blast them with a single shot?”

“The Feinan doesn’t have a Main Cannon, boss,” Lyu’s voice gradually regained its liveliness, “My three mentors only wanted the Feinan to be your lifeline, not a Main Battle Ship. They love peace.”

“Directly control a military ship?”

“The probability of the military supplying information to these people is approximately one hundred percent, even if we control a Main Battle Ship from the Wind Empire, Lulian and his team would immediately hide in a bomb shelter. The distinction is whether you want to eliminate Lulian or wipe out the New Federation’s elite forces.”

“Even if it’s just Lulian, he’s unlikely to have carried out this plan alone; this New Federation agent team is my current enemy.”

Yang Ming said calmly,

“When it comes to the options of ‘long-term goals’ and ‘eliminating the enemy at the forefront,’ I lean towards the latter.

“Right now, I just want to massacre them.”

Lyu pondered this, quickly saying, “If the opponents are in a sealed environment, the boss’s individual combat ability will allow you to achieve your goals. But they are very cunning, and will retreat immediately when faced with danger.”

Yang Ming leaned back in his chair, quietly thinking, his mind filled with data from the Wind Empire.

“You are right, we need allies to seal them off.”

“We can leverage the power of the Wind Royal Family.”

Projections of the scene at Ilando star appeared in front of Yang Ming.

The news was showing updates on the beach explosion incident, with special commentators repeatedly asserting that this was an act of terrorism by the New Federation.

Several mainstream TV channels were analyzing the incident, with intelligence entirely speculative.

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The media labeled Yang Ming, a captain, as ‘missing’, and several professional actors gave long-winded analyses of the only remnants of the monster vehicle: the fully deformed main seat.

The incident had been classified as an assassination attempt by New Federation agents on a Wind Empire elite officer.

Yang Ming cleared away the meaningless news and found two surveillance views.

Miss Windsor sat on the bed of the old professor’s house in the ‘Third Happiness’ community, wearing pajamas, curled up, and wiping away tears from her eyes. Beside her was the old professor and 026, constantly sighing, and outside the window, several bodyguards were visible.

Lyu smiled and said, “Boss, your lover is mourning for you.”

“Try to remind her… Forget it, let’s focus on confidentiality first and compensate later.”

Yang Ming didn’t linger, looking at the second surveillance view.

This was in a warehouse near the Imperial Palace.

Two rows of guards stood outside the warehouse, and old General Fremont leaned on a cane, standing behind the Second Prince, Edwan.

Edwan’s towering figure leaned against the railing, his expression wasn’t exactly sorrowful, but grim and silent, staring at the six-meter humanoid Mecha with the provocative bright red paint.

After a few seconds, Edwan said softly,

“Now, I have no friends left.”

General Fremont could only sigh lightly.

Yang Ming casually turned off the surveillance and rubbed his brow with his hand.

He couldn’t stand watching this.

Yang Ming said, “Lyu, I need a battle plan.”

Lyu lifted her hand and tapped gently, a series of projection screens, each with different combat strategies, appeared in front of Yang Ming, each with its pros and cons.

Yang Ming thought carefully for several minutes, selecting a relatively complex but most rewarding route.

These New Federation hyenas!

Yang Ming stood up and headed to the weapons cabin, ready for the batch of weapons he had previously purchased on the black market to finally come into play.

Lyu suddenly muttered, “Captain, you should express even a faint apology for your previous reckless behavior.”

Yang Ming stopped in his tracks, turned, and looked at the floating virtual girl.

She folded her arms, deliberately staring at the stars outside the porthole, her face showing some dissatisfaction.

“Sorry, Lyu.”

Yang Ming earnestly said, “Next time I’ll discuss it with you, this time it was mainly because we discovered the missile too late…”

Lyu turned around, looking at Yang Ming somewhat helplessly, “Alright, Lyu has forgiven you, but next time, please prioritize your safety.”

“Yeah,” Yang Ming shrugged, “You know how I am, admit when I’m wrong and dare again next time.”

The young girl, Lyu, rolled her eyes with disdain.

…

Yang Ming died?

Gudun Mah couldn’t describe how he spent those five or six hours.

He watched the video of the incident, not just from one angle, and by any judgment, Yang Ming was doomed.

He had no escape.

Yet, Gudun Mah didn’t feel any joy of revenge; instead, he fell into anxiety and agitation.

The files Yang Ming had recorded—the accounts he read shirtless—if circulated, would undoubtedly lead to his own partners heartlessly abandoning him, and the royal family would seize the opportunity to attack swiftly…

Did Yang Ming really set up a post-mortem feedback mechanism?

Gudun Mah kept pondering and waiting.

As time ticked forward, no sign appeared indicating any news about him as the deputy chief of staff, giving Gudun Mah a slight sense of solace.

He began to fantasize:

If Yang Ming were eliminated by Lulian and his recorded videos sank into oblivion, everything would return to normal, and he could free himself from the shackles around his neck.

Gudun Mah squinted, a faint smile curling his lips.

Though he couldn’t figure out why Lulian had decisively eliminated Yang Ming, Gudun Mah was now convinced of one thing.

Yang Ming wasn’t a high-level agent of the New Federation.

Yang Ming was very likely a high-level agent of the Sherman Empire.

Regardless, Yang Ming being dead was good, he died, and Gudun Mah was free, free to casually plan his retirement, leave the Wind Empire, this blemished ship on the brink of sinking, for a new life…

Click, click-click.

The hidden door behind him opened slightly.

Gudun Mah’s smile froze.

The deputy chief of staff nearly slid out of his chair, incredulously watching the Mechanical Guard walking out with his hands behind his back.

His dry lips trembled constantly.

“You, you…”

“The choice is yours, Gudun.”

Yang Ming’s voice came through the speaker of the Mechanical Guard’s throat, the laser rifle also held single-handedly by the Mechanical Guard, its muzzle pressed against Gudun Mah’s forehead.

“Me, or Lulian.”