Act 482: Act 1-Back in Black: Evil Returns

[Part 1: Remnants of War]

The remote, cold, and damp water town of District 54, bordering the Northern Territory, is unsuitable for Homo sapiens to live in, yet it has become incredibly wealthy due to the high tariffs on the Kurbo Gold Mine.

Countless shady industries have gathered here, driven by the anonymous to towns and villages outside human settlements. Lieyang Fort is such a place, a sanctuary for many remnants of the Madness Butterfly Sect, a bridge connecting Zero Platform and civilized society. It is home to people from all walks of life, mostly fence-sitters who teeter on the edge of the law, as well as tax evasion companies that deal in contraband and smuggle mineral raw materials.

Just like its name suggests, the city-states in the underworld are mostly named after whatever they lack.

Here, there is no sun, no sturdy fortresses, only a complex network of waterways and riverbeds, muddy roads, illegal structures at dam mouths that are difficult for tidal patrol boats to search, stacked wooden towers, and stilted houses and makeshift buildings erected along the solid subsidence layer of the railway on both sides of the official road. All sorts of itinerant vendors carry brightly colored lanterns on their boats, hoping to entice wealthy and powerful fugitive criminals to flee and make a quick buck.

In District 54, the most powerful organization wasn't the district government headed by the governor, but rather a small Catholic church.

--It is the White Shark Association of Lieyang Fort, which was originally an alliance of a vulnerable group composed of shark-human hybrids. In the underworld, hybrids of calamity beasts are a vulnerable group.

They may possess some special abilities far exceeding those of Homo sapiens, but to Homo sapiens, these savage creatures, which are difficult to hunt with tools and difficult to form group combat forces, are as fragile as fresh ingredients on a menu.

The White Shark Association initially allied with the Red Stone People's Hung Mun Alliance, becoming a small warband officially designated by the station. Just as the Three Towns was initially developed by the Red Stone People but was eventually given to the Warhorse Matriarch and her lizardmen, the Shark Clan gained control of Lieyang Fort.

This city has been plagued by numerous Madness Butterfly, and even today, it continues to suffer from frequent Spirit Calamity. Its unique geographical location and distinctive population composition determine that it is destined to never have a peaceful life.

It has no large tracts of arable land, but it is one of the entrances and exits of gold mines; it has no safe and reliable waterways, but it has complex branches that harbor filth and corruption.

These are the living environments that criminals dream of: hiding in the darkness, searching for the cultural heritage of Zero Platform left by the Madness Butterfly predecessors in the far reaches of the wilderness, obtaining the recipe for Holy Blood, and acquiring the necessary materials for the Blood Ceremony —these livelihoods are gradually transforming Lieyang Fort and the White Shark Association.

Seventeen years ago, an Immortals being brazenly took over the White Shark Association. He never intended to remain anonymous, but instead vigorously touted his illustrious achievements in history.

He was an adventurer, a war-mongering maniac.

The main battle tank is named after his mentor, who participated in the American Civil War.

He had fought alongside Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis in the Black Hawk War—a one-sided massacre of the Sock Indians—and twenty-nine years later, these two comrades, representing the South and the North respectively, launched a massive war of unification.

The American Civil War killed one-thirtieth of America's able-bodied men, and the total number of casualties exceeded the sum of all battles fought in America to this day, including the Gulf War, the Afghan War, and various large and small counterinsurgency battles.

He represented the Union Army and, together with his mentor General Sherman, carried out the massacre at Wicksburg and the burning of Atlanta.

When the Northern Army came to the South, it never paid attention to the desperate pleas of the civilians or the surrendered enemy.

As Mr. Sherman said—

"--We must clear and destroy all obstacles."

"Take away every inch of land, confiscate every piece of property."

"Ruthlessly destroy everything we see, regardless of age, gender, or social status."

These experiences shaped the Immortals's ruthless and vicious mind, his ambitious and vain character, and his inhumane treatment of prisoners. He was an excellent ruler—so the alliance also wanted him to govern Lieyang Fort.

His name was George Joshua, an ageless, ruthless, and bloodthirsty thug.

In the period following the Black Hawk Down incident, the Philosopher Foundation had not yet been established. Its predecessor was a secret society composed of social elites from all walks of life. Wealth was merely an entry ticket, a universal token of power—and the Pacific Railroad was born from this society, which was concerned with the future of the United States.

The subsequent trial of the railway project was also facilitated by George Joshua, a former engineer who specially selected twenty-seven sons of wealthy families from his hometown in the United Kingdom to attract investment. This led to the loss of countless Chinese lives for this major artery running through the United States, from Washington on the East Coast to the Colorado River Valley.

Stanford University's [Stanford], which was also the major owner of the Pacific Railroad at the time, believed that George's approach might be wasteful and costly.

But the story then turns a new page for Joe Rank. Through George Joshua's introduction, Jack Martin Enfield arrives in America, transforming from a down-on-his-luck lord without an ancestral title into the "Big Leader" of the search for the remains of a saint, rumored to possess the power to grant immortality and change the fate of a nation—and the story of Wen Bucai is about to begin.

Driven by this divine hand, George Joshua, as an Immortals, may not have left a prominent name in the long river of history, but he has lived to this day and continues to shine in Lieyang Fort Hold, contributing his strength to the Alliance and providing convenience for Kim Taekang, sending this Alliance assassin to the Council of Five Kings.

At this moment, a burly man with red hair and red eyes sat upright in the council hall of Lieyang Fort, surrounded by an empty room.

He was tall and imposing, his well-tailored suit almost bursting at the seams with his broad shoulders and neck. He had a handsome beard, prominent brow ridges, deep-set eyes, a large nose with wide nostrils, and both his eyebrows and hair seemed to have an upward, surging quality—like a raging fire.

He looked no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old; if he shaved his beard, he might look seventeen or eighteen. His thick lips made George Joshua look like Pellegrini, full of a strange, childlike naiveté.

Most members of the Immortals Alliance possess this characteristic; they retain a certain degree of "childlike innocence." Children are cruel, but they have retained their childlike spirit.

"You have a new task to complete, President."

A message notification lit up on the desk, and a gaudy, seductive smile appeared on a simple small LCD screen.

George: "Let's get straight to the point."

The assistant deliberately leaned forward and hunched over, adjusting the buttons of her shirt, wanting to display all her charm to the chairman. She slowly slunk back into her office chair, licked her lips, gently adjusted her glasses, and then said in an affected manner, "That batch of goods from Xiao Si Men was seized by the patrol boat, Chairman. I'm afraid you'll need to assign a few supervisors. This is something a layman can't handle. It's some cherry blossom shells, a seasoning used in hot pot restaurants."

"Are you new here?" George Joshua glanced at his female assistant's voluptuous figure. "Has no one taught you manners? Has no one instructed you on etiquette?"

"Not really," the female assistant replied, her mind wandering. The White Shark Association's HR specialist had previously given her a complete training program, instructing her to maintain a proper attitude and not to deliberately try to please the club president. But she ignored it all, saying, "I just thought, let's give it a try, just a little joke."

If I could use this opportunity to get into the president's bed, would I still need to spend every day in the remote meeting room eating chalk dust? It would be like a sparrow flying to the top and becoming a phoenix, and I wouldn't have to work hard anymore.

"You want to exchange your body for money? That's easy. I'll have someone take you away right away. Which ship do you want to work on?" George Joshua immediately pointed the woman in the right direction. "You're not suited to be an assistant, little sister."

The female assistant's expression changed, and suddenly she heard a knock on the door.

"Manager?! President?! I was just kidding! I..."

George Joshua tapped on the LCD screen, and six sightseeing boats along the riverfront immediately appeared on his female assistant's remote desktop. These mobile casinos and bars were ideal places for money laundering and selling.

"If you don't choose, then I'll have your boss choose."

The steward's face was extremely grim. He hurried in but dared not speak.

George Joshua swipes the screen to switch from the ship interface to the weapons interface.

"Do you prefer pistol bullets or rifle bullets? Do you like explosives? Or something older? Like the suffocation game with a noose?"

The female assistant was already pale with fright. "I... I... I... President, I didn't mean to... I..."

"Only children can be forgiven for their mistakes. You're all grown up now," George said, sounding somewhat impatient. "There's no need to use those unspoken rules of the workplace on your leader. You're insulting me, discriminating against my intelligence—flaunting yourself during a remote meeting, wasting my time and ammunition? Who do you think you are? If you don't choose the boat, I'll choose the gun for you."

"I choose! I choose! I choose!" the female assistant pleaded desperately, thinking to herself that sending her to work as a waitress on a sightseeing boat was not a bad choice—after all, the chairman was so wise and capable, he would definitely make the most of her and find a good buyer for her appearance!

"So which ship? Which one should we choose?" George Joshua's large fingers swept across the list of yachts.

"Is it Curiosity Museum themed around a monster circus?"

"Is it a resort and entertainment complex that combines gambling and a hotel?"

"Or is it a sales and exhibition center for arms trade?"

"A dance hall specifically for providing mistresses to important figures?"

"Choose quickly!"

[Part ② - Utterly Inhuman]

George Joshua took a stack of photos from the drawer and idly fiddled with his fingers.

"I choose this one! I choose this one!" Without hesitation, the female assistant immediately pointed to the ship displaying arms—if she could be transferred to this position, she would be in contact with mostly powerful military officers, which would be much more lucrative than being a clerical official!

At that very moment, the icons for ships and vessels suddenly changed to the shape of 7.62x51 machine gun rounds.

"So you liked using this caliber of bullet to end your pathetic and incompetent life." George Joshua grinned, holding the photograph as if he were holding a winning hand, drawing one of the cards—

"--To be honest, I'm someone who likes to take the initiative."

The Big Sister's photo appeared prominently on the screen.

"I only lost once, and had to flee from Lieyang Fort in a sorry state, almost losing my life in the process. Now I have to bow my head and be humbled, all thanks to this woman."

The second photo shows the Big Sister in casual clothes hitting a sandbag and sweating profusely in the club.

"When I went to kiss her shoes and made intimate contact with the six 9x39 heavy warheads that burst out of that boot, my head almost turned into a watermelon—at that moment."

As the photographs fell onto the table, George Joshua's face flushed and his breathing became rapid.

"I feel like I've become a prisoner of love."

The final trump card remains the image of War King Glory in full armor, displaying her heroic bearing.

"I love him, I want to pursue her, I want to attack her without reservation!"

"I want to conquer her! Defeat this formidable rival! And watch her become my plaything! Completely subjugated!"

"I like this type of woman. I hope you'll consider this carefully when you're reincarnated."

"Come see me again looking like her."

On the other side of the screen, the manager finally breathed a sigh of relief.

--The manager gestured to the security guard, indicating the bullet caliber, then grabbed a light machine gun and loaded a bullet into the muzzle.

The female assistant turned her head slightly and immediately saw the scorching gunfire.

As his blood pressure spiked, his skull and brains splattered onto the ceiling, and he died instantly. His fingers still clung tightly to the table and chair, unwilling to fall, as if he didn't want to leave work early and wanted to finish his last shift.

"Sorry, boss." Manager Todd was an honest, unassuming man who did whatever the chairman said. He put down his gun and ordered the security personnel and cleaners to clean up the scene, "It's my fault. I'm always too soft-hearted and don't want to punish these employees. As a result, they don't take my words to heart at all."

"That was definitely your fault." George Joshua carefully put away the photos of the Big Sister, as if he didn't want his subordinates to see these treasures. "Let's continue, let's get back to her work—what was on the ship that was seized?"

The steward sat beside the headless corpse, his demeanor eerily calm. He couldn't stop the tears from flowing, seemingly grieving for the girl beside him, yet his action when pulling the trigger was so precise and swift.

"It's such a simple thing for these small vendors who do farm work to deliver some ingredients to hot pot and braised food shops. We don't call that stuff opium poppy, we call it poppy husks—but there are always some disobedient ones who have planted more than six thousand of them in their backyards."

"Hey, isn't this a bit strange? There's not much arable land in District 54, so to be able to grow so many flowers in muddy paddy fields, that's quite a feat."

"As a result, the border guards and the Guangling Zhixi will definitely have to go there. When they ask about this family and the young men on the fishing boat, they all say they are good people! Absolutely good people! Law-abiding citizens!"

Todd waved his hand, his face full of innocence.

"They grow that stuff to treat their livestock; it's a traditional Chinese medicine, and it can stop coughs."

"But boss, it seems the special anti-drug team of Guangling Zhixi isn't planning to let this group go. You need to find someone efficient, reliable, and influential to handle this. Nothing can be related to drugs—not even a little bit."

"Otherwise, if our Big Sister comes back, not to mention whether we can survive, it won't be so easy for you to come back in the future."

Upon hearing the term "Big Sister," George Joshua's expression noticeably changed.

He was both terrified and excited, and ultimately forced himself to suppress his self-destructive urges, compelling his brain to make the most rational judgment.

"Understood, I'll handle it."