Chapter 62 Reunion

Chapter 62 Reunion

The night was like a vast black net, tightly shrouding the Thirteenth Sector Fortress.

Most of the people in the fortress were still sound asleep in their dreams, while the sentries, weary, took the opportunity to sneak a cigarette to stay awake when the team leader wasn't looking, secretly counting down the minutes until their shift ended so they could go back to sleep.

Two seventeen.

Gliders, like a swarm of giant, nimble bats, descended from the sky silently with the cover of night, the Seventh [Redacted] Division of the Resistance landing atop the Thirteenth Fortress's grassy roof.

The gliders' brake skids scraped against the concrete and grass, producing harsh screeches and throwing up sparks.

This was the impregnable Thirteenth Sector Fortress, with turrets that could rotate in all directions, but these defenders never dreamed that the enemy would land right on top of them.

Minutes later, a muffled explosion came from within the fortress.

Then a second, a third.

It was the sound of the Resistance's newly developed hollow charge explosives detonating inside the bunkers.

At the moment of the explosion, the interior of the turrets was like a hellish inferno.

With each dull blast, multi-ton turrets were twisted, jammed, or even completely flipped over.

Searchlights went dark, and cracks appeared on the fortress's outer walls.

"Retreat!"

"Pull back quickly, don't engage them head-on!"

The Imperial soldiers on duty had no choice but to withdraw into the underground tunnels, sealing the heavy armored doors behind them.

Zhu Shinian raised his hand to glance at his watch—only twenty-one minutes had passed since they touched down.

Twenty-one minutes, and they had already seized control of the fortress's top, neutralizing all its most critical heavy artillery.

"Confirmed all enemy forces have withdrawn underground," Li Qianxu reported back. "Should we launch a direct assault, or try to persuade them to surrender?"

The underground fortifications couldn't possibly hold out for long—they had already scouted: the mess hall and food storage were all above ground, so the defenders couldn't go without food and water.

However, this was deep in Imperial-controlled territory, a considerable distance from the front lines. A nearly two-thousand-strong garrison in the supposedly impregnable Thirteenth Sector Fortress raising the white flag would make them the laughingstock of the entire Empire.

There were also degrees of difference between defeat and surrender—if they were captured this way, the Empire would surely abandon them without a second thought, never bothering to negotiate an exchange.

The Resistance claimed they didn't mistreat prisoners, but for those raised in the Empire, the tough living conditions in the Resistance was even worse than deliberate cruelty.

"We can't wait that long," Zhu Shinian ordered decisively. "Find the ventilation shafts, throw in smoke grenades and tear gas."

Live ammunition could destabilize the fortress's structure, causing the entire thing to collapse. Smoke grenades and tear gas were the safest bet.

They couldn't launch a direct assault or wait for the defenders to surrender—they had fewer than three hundred men, and reinforcements from the front lines were already on their way. If they dragged it out too long, until the defending troops returned, those three hundred would become an isolated force unable to retreat.

Their time was limited: it would take only twenty-one hours for troops to rush over from the Southern front.

Zhu Shinian wanted to use a small force to tie down more enemies, but that didn't mean he wanted these three hundred men to die with him.

"Understood, Major General." Li Qianxu acknowledged the order and left.

The sustained use of smoke and tear gas through the ventilation shafts soon overwhelmed the defenders. Just three hours later, they raised the white flag and surrendered.

The garrison commander was captured and forced to lead Zhu Shinian and his men to the Thirteenth Sector Medical and Biological Research Center.

The rest of the troops were disarmed and locked up in the fortress's own prison.

"Li Qianxu," Zhu Shinian said calmly into the radio. "Clear the area, then extract on your own. I'll go retrieve the samples."

"Understood. Please be careful as well, sir."

Li Qianxu didn't ask any unnecessary questions—he was used to Zhu Shinian's hands-on, personal leadership style and never probed further.

The iron door flew open with a kick from Zhu Shinian. The researchers inside, working late into the night, looked up in terror at the uninvited guest.

Zhu Shinian fired a shot into the ceiling, and several researchers' legs gave out, collapsing into their chairs.

"I want the experimental samples and reports for treating glandular premature aging." Zhu Shinian swept his gaze across the room, finally fixing on the oldest man in the group, who wore glasses.

Even though he had only seen a photo before, Zhu Shinian recognized him at once.

He was a former professor at Imperial Capital University, an expert in the Empire's glandular medicine field.

In the past few years, he had faded from view, rarely publishing any research results—clearly, he had been conducting secret studies for the Empire.

Never having witnessed such a scene before, the old man's lips trembled several times before he finally managed to speak.

"Go..." he said with difficulty to a much younger researcher, "go get the ADP-07 samples and report for him..."

"Professor, I want you to understand," Zhu Shinian reminded him coolly, "you are coming back with us to the Resistance. I hope you're not trying to fool me."

"Yes, it's ADP-07, that's right... I won't... I won't lie to you..."

"The experimental data is all right here in front of me," the professor nodded frantically. "You can... first transmit the data back..."

The cooler was opened, revealing dozens of sealed test tubes arranged neatly, each labeled with batch and sample numbers. The researcher nervously selected one and handed it to Zhu Shinian.

Zhu Shinian was in the process of handcuffing the professor; he shook his head, signaling the researcher to hand the sample to his subordinate, who stowed it in his backpack.

"You take him by helicopter first. I'll stay behind to cover the withdrawal and transmit the data."

"Major General, you should go first," a soldier, concerned for his safety, instinctively objected. "I can transmit the data—I know how to encrypt it too..."

Zhu Shinian just looked at him, and the soldier immediately fell silent.

The soldier grabbed the researcher's arm. "Come with me. No tricks."

Behind him, the roar of helicopter blades started up. Zhu Shinian sat in front of the computer, calmly encrypting the data.

The sound slowly died away. Then Li Qianxu's voice came over the radio.

"Major General Zhu, we're airborne! The samples and the person are safe. No combat units have opened fire on us yet."

Zhu Shinian glanced at the transmission progress on the screen, then stripped off his combat uniform and changed into the civilian clothes he had prepared in his backpack.

Transmission progress: 67%.

Transmission progress: 80%.

...Transmission progress: 99%.

.......

At five in the morning, the Thirteenth Sector was pitch-black and quiet. Dressed as a civilian, Zhu Shinian pulled down the brim of his cap and walked quickly through the alleyways.

According to the evacuation plan, the main force would leave first in helicopters with the medicine and prisoners, while those who had blended into the crowd in civilian clothes were to go to Rendezvous Point Three in District Thirteen and find an old man selling late-night snacks.

The old man was a deep-cover agent planted by the Resistance a decade ago, and he would give him a new set of identification papers and arrange for him to slip out of the city.

The rendezvous point was fifty meters to the left after exiting this alley, where the old man selling breakfast should already have set up his stall, now grinding soybeans for milk and steaming buns.

The alley was narrow, flanked by high walls of residential buildings; he walked at a moderate pace, like an ordinary researcher going home after work.

Turning a corner, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Outside the alley was a slightly wider street, with dim streetlights illuminating the wet stones.

It had just rained there, and now a fine drizzle brushed against his face.

Under a streetlight in front of a distant convenience store stood a few people in civilian clothes, smoking.

Zhu Shinian's pupils contracted slightly, and alarm bells immediately went off in his head.

It was still very early, five in the morning—gathering to smoke at this hour; whether they claimed nicotine cravings or said they were crazy, no one would believe them.

Moreover, those people were all alphas, with upright postures; aside from models, dancers, and soldiers, there was no other type of person who would stand with their backs ramrod straight for no reason.

He slowly retreated into the shadows, leaning against the wall, motionless, his heart racing.

He was alone now, his weapons had been destroyed, and he only had a small-caliber pistol in his pocket.

Even if he could luckily bypass them and successfully meet the contact to escape, he would endanger the contact.

The sample and the researcher were likely safe by now; the soldiers trapped in their own prison still couldn't contact reinforcements, and the support forces were unaware of the assault team's size; the objective of spreading their forces thin was also being achieved, which would surely ease the pressure on the front line.

Everything was going according to plan, smoothly.

Major General Qian, who had opened the southern front, would make it back; Jiang Huaiyan would be saved, and premature gland atrophy would no longer be a death sentence...

Zhu Shinian was no longer afraid of anything.

Even if he died, he would die for a worthy cause.

After just a second of hesitation, Zhu Shinian made his decision, turned around, and walked toward the other end of the alley.

A rustling sound came from above, as if rain were starting again.

At first, a few drops fell—on the brim of his hat, on his shoulders, on the stone slabs at his feet.

Then it grew denser and more urgent, and in an instant, it turned into a torrential downpour.

Zhu Shinian's hair and clothes were instantly soaked; he dashed to the side of the street and took shelter under the eaves of a shop.

The door was tightly shut, the sign was faded, and it was a small general store open during the day.

The eaves were too narrow to block the slanting rain; half his body was soon soaked.

He pulled the brim of his hat a little lower and pressed himself into the shadows.

The rain was loud, a roaring sound that drowned out everything.

He leaned against the wall, having been up all night, and closed his eyes wearily.

He had tricked Gu Zhen, betrayed him, and now Gu Zhen was getting back at him with false information—he couldn't blame him.

As long as he didn't drag his comrades or family into it...

Major General Qian and the others would be fine; those patients would be fine.

Jiang Huaiyan would be fine too.

This time, this time Zhu Shinian would no longer be powerless.

Zhu Shinian would not let him die again; he would be healthy and safe, just as Zhu Shinian had always wished.

Footsteps sounded from a distance, and Zhu Shinian opened his eyes.

Through the sheets of rain, a figure was walking slowly from the end of the alley, holding an umbrella.

A black umbrella, dark clothes, walking neither hurriedly nor slowly, as if the pouring rain had nothing to do with him.

He drew closer and closer, until he stood before Zhu Shinian, the brim of the umbrella lifting slightly.

Zhu Shinian recognized that face.

Author's note: The war scene is fictional, roughly set in modern times with airplanes, artillery, and tanks, but without missiles or satellites, and communication mainly relies on radio.