The freezing sea gale sweeping across the concrete observation deck of the Jiangnan Coast Guard Fortress grew increasingly hostile by 04:30 AM. The heavy ocean mist was saturated with an unstable, violet static, the geometric interference waves pulsing from the distant Western cruisers actively scrambling the short-range radar relays along the fortress perimeter walls.
Lin Feng stepped off the reinforced concrete pad, his hands loosely buried inside the pockets of his gray utility jacket. His sneakers made absolutely soundless contact with the rust-slicked iron planks of the primary naval boarding pier extending over the churning white waves.
Behind him, Han Xue and Bai Qingxi maintained a disciplined, three-pace separation, their eyes tracking the absolute, mountain-like equilibrium of his posture.
"The tactical data line has just registered a secondary pressure drop beneath the offshore oil platform," Bai Qingxi reported, her crisp, aristocratic baritone cutting cleanly through the roaring coastal wind as her modified wrist terminal flickered with a brief stream of amber coordinates. "The foreign mercenaries have initialized their deep-marrow extraction arrays. They are attempting to forcibly drain the maritime node's primary geocentric fuel cache before the winter solstice reaches its absolute zero-point calibration at dawn."
"They are trying to drain an ocean trench using paper scripts, Director Bai," Lin Feng said softly, his vacant, bottomless eyes looking through the thick black sea fog toward the violent violet strobes lining the horizon. "They believe that by anchoring high-frequency metal hulls over the leyline intersections, they can dictate the distribution of the coming world-inheritance. They don't understand that when the primary grand rifts split the seabed, the continental plate doesn't count their steel tonnage. It only responds to a scoured core."
"Lin Feng..." Han Xue stepped forward, her midnight-black silk trench coat catching the salt spray as her hands tensely gripped her uncorrupted jade talisman. "The Western vanguard squad guarding the offshore platform isn't composed of standard corporate enforcers or neural-stripped criminals. The overseas registries log them as the
Iron-Clad Paladins
—total Stage 9 Flesh Refinement veterans who have been augmented with void-grade kinetic rail-harnesses. Their passive energetic field can calcify a mortal's muscle tissue from fifty meters away."
Lin Feng didn't alter his flat, flat sixty-beats-per-minute respiratory loop. He smoothly adjusted the single strap of his worn utility backpack across his shoulder, a cold, undefeated smile curling the absolute corners of his lips under the dark, overcast sky.
"The paladins spent thirty years bolting foreign steel into their marrow, Student Han," Lin Feng whispered, his calm voice carrying an unhurried, spatial resonance that caused the iron planks beneath their boots to faintly vibrate. "They think that by compressing mechanical torque, they can bypass the evolutionary laws of the earth. Tonight, I will show them how fragile their iron suits look to the true apex of New Huaxia."
Suddenly, a sharp, mechanical clicking sound erupted from the dark sea fog thirty meters ahead along the pier line.
Three towering figures materialized through the swirling white steam. They wore massive, high-density suits of matte-white tactical power armor forged from advanced composite titanium, their chests emblazoned with the glowing blue geometric insignias of the Western Sanctum Directory. Heavy, hydraulic whirring sounds hissed from their shoulder actuators as their wrist-mounted linear railguns hummed to life, their multi-spectrum targeting lasers painting Lin Feng’s plain gray hoodie with absolute, synchronized precision.
"Target silhouette identified: Independent Registry Asset, Lin Feng," a modulated, foreign voice boomed through the lead paladin's throat mic, carrying a cold, institutional weight. "By mandate of the Global Resource Cordon, you are ordered to halt your advance and surrender the Mount Tai core telemetry codes immediately. Refusal will result in immediate molecular liquidation and container termination."
Lin Feng stopped smoothly exactly ten paces from the titanium-clad vanguard, his hands remaining casually inside his jacket pockets as the freezing coastal waves detonated against the iron pylons below.
The international chessboard had officially drawn its lines across the black water, and the undefeated regressor was already stepping into the smoke.