Three days later.
Near dusk.
Clusters of crimson clouds swirled across the sky, while a red setting sun on the horizon gave off its last warmth, keeping the world shrouded in light.
Yet the fading red of the sunset also heralded the coming darkness.
Whoosh—
One piercing whistle after another streaked through the sky, hurtling straight toward the G-8 Branch harbor. They were pitch-black cannonballs.
At some point, three enormous Pirate Ships had appeared on the once-calm sea, their cannons blazing as they spat out wave after wave of sparks.
"Kill!"
"Destroy the G-8 Marine Branch!"
Ooo—ooo—ooo~
The sudden pirate assault set the branch alarms blaring. In an instant, the entire base awakened like a war machine.
From atop the steel fortress, rows of black cannon barrels aimed toward the sea as countless Marines, moving in orderly formation, lit their fuses and returned fire.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
"It's the Beasts Pirates!"
"Our chance to earn merit is here!"
A Marine in the watchtower lowered his binoculars. Using the lingering sunset light, he made out the pirate flag. Not only was there no fear on his face, but he was brimming with excitement.
Everyone knew this.
Among the Marine branches in the New World, the Marines of G-8 were the bravest and least afraid of war. Over the past five years, Wilton's habit of leading from the front and fearlessly facing death had deeply influenced everyone.
This was not war. It was promotion, bonuses, and merit.
"We have the branch at our backs. Vice Admiral Wilton just seized a shipload of weapons, so use every last bit of them!"
"Sink them before they can get anywhere near the harbor!"
"They're already within sniper range!"
"Fire without discrimination!"
They moved in perfect order.
The G-8 Branch had over six thousand personnel.