Eagle Sauce: The 055 destroyer was launched into the sea just after the founding of the country?

The night sky of Kyoto was illuminated by the sporadic fires on the ground, casting a strange, sickly dark red color.

Those were not the vibrant lights that a city should have, but the final wail of burning vehicles and buildings.

In the presidential suite on the top floor of the Kyoto International Hotel, in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, several figures in traditional samurai costumes, like statues, silently gazed at the city below that was gradually being "purified".

Just half an hour ago, they were still here, gloating over how this "plague" they had personally orchestrated had plunged this bustling city into endless panic and chaos. But now, each of their faces was filled with a single, deadly solemnity.

Through high-magnification military binoculars, they can clearly see that on the streets, the "Aurora Sky Army", which they once saw as divine soldiers descending from the sky and unstoppable, is clearing every corner of the city with an almost overwhelming, elegant and efficient posture.

They worked in teams of three, coordinating as seamlessly as one. One provided frontal fire suppression, wielding his "Zhulong" rifle, accurately dispatching the slow-moving zombies in the distance. The other two, like ghosts, moved between abandoned vehicles and buildings, silently wielding their high-frequency vibrating sabers to harvest the "prey" that sprang from the shadows.

As for the occasional "mad orcs" that failed to mutate, they couldn't even survive a single round in front of these dark red steel giants.

Their claws, sharp enough to tear apart tanks, were useless in front of the solid shell of the "Mingguang" armor, leaving behind only a series of weak, harsh scraping sounds.

The "Aurora Sky Army" were too lazy to even use guns. They simply leaned sideways and punched, and they could easily blow the monsters' heads apart like smashing a watermelon.

This is no longer a battle of equal strength.

This is a one-sided cleanup full of the aesthetics of technology and power.

"Onizuka-san..."

Finally, Yuanjun's young voice, with a noticeable tremor, broke the suffocating silence in the room.

He slowly put down the telescope in his hand. His handsome face, which was always filled with arrogance and confidence, now only had an unconcealable, deathly paleness.

"Let's...let's just give up the mission..."

His voice sounded like pleading.

"These... these Dragon people... they are not human... they are... they are real ghosts and gods!"

"Yes, Onizuka-san, Gen-kun is right."

Another older noble echoed this, his legs trembling slightly uncontrollably.

"Our plan... has completely failed. Our original plan was to wait until they and the monsters we created were both severely damaged, and then we would..."

"But now, look down there!"

His voice suddenly rose, filled with endless fear.

"They... they suffered no losses at all! Not to mention deaths, I didn't even see a single injured one! If this continues, they will kill all the zombies in Kyoto in less than two hours! We... we can't possibly be a match for these monsters!"

"Yes! That's right! Give up!"

"We can't defeat them! This isn't even a battle in the same dimension!"

"It's still not too late to retreat now! We can escape to the countryside! No matter how powerful the Dragon Country people are, they can't turn the entire Sakura Country upside down!"

The other nobles also spoke up in agreement.

They were all completely terrified by the almost magical massacre downstairs.

However, facing the wailing and retreat of the crowd like a stray dog, Onitsuka, the man with a hideous scar on his face who had been silently wiping the long sword in his hand from beginning to end, took action.

He slowly stood up from the ground.

He didn't get angry, nor did he scold.

He just continued to use a piece of snow-white, soft silk to wipe the strange long sword called "Muramasa" over and over again.

He wiped very carefully and attentively.

It was as if that was not a cold killing weapon, but his most beloved lover.

But the whole room became so quiet that you could hear a pin drop in an instant because of his simple action of standing up.

All the noisy, fear-filled discussions came to an abrupt halt.

Everyone, like a duck with its neck pinched, subconsciously closed their mouths and looked at him in horror.

"coward."

After a long time, Guizhong slowly squeezed out these two words from his throat.

His voice was not loud, but it was like two cold, rusty awls, piercing the hearts of everyone present.

"Do you think it's a matter of whether you want to do it or not?" He raised his head, his single intact eye, sharp as a hawk's, coldly scanning the faces of everyone present. "Do you think that if you lay down your weapons now and run away with your tails between your legs, this matter will be over with you? That the Dragon people will let you go?"

"Don't dream." An undisguised, cruel sneer appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"

"Do you really think that with the current level of technology displayed by the Dragon people, they won't be able to discover that someone has tampered with the water source?"

With every word he spoke, the faces of the young nobles grew paler.

"As long as they make a casual investigation. As long as they can pry out even a tiny bit of information from those researchers, your names, your identities, and your noble, unique faces will be clearly displayed on the table of the Dragon Country people."

"When the time comes..." He paused deliberately, a playful, malicious light flickering in his single eye. "You should know exactly what they will do to you, right?"

These words, like a cold current from hell, instantly froze the blood of everyone present. They remembered those once-powerful old tycoons publicly executed by the Dragon Kingdom, and those old aristocrats whose property had been confiscated and who had been reduced to the lowest level of society...

A fear deeper and more real than when they faced the "Aurora Sky Army" gripped their hearts.

Looking at this group of pitiful "comrades" who had been frightened by him, Onitsuka knew that the time had come. He slowly threw out the tempting, sweet poison again.

"Even if we take a step back, the Dragon people are blind and stupid. They didn't realize it was us who did it."

"But are you really willing to do that?"

He walked to the window and pointed at the city below, which was restoring order and full of the atmosphere of life.

"Are you really willing to live out your lives in mediocrity, hiding your identities like a rat that hides from the light, in this tainted, 'China'-smelling country of cherry blossoms?"

"Don't forget what the CIA will give us after this is done."

"Ten million dollars. Cash."

"A villa in Malibu, California, with a private pool and helipad, overlooking the ocean."

"And..." His voice became full of allure, like the whisper of a devil, "a promise that can help us regain this land, become the masters of this country again, and make all the untouchables kneel at our feet once again!"

"Such generous terms." He turned, his single eye burning with the frenzied, gambler-like fire of a man. "Isn't it worth it for you to risk your worthless lives... for a life-or-death gamble?"

Coercion and inducement.

Fear, and greed.

These two most primitive and powerful forces tore back and forth madly in the hearts of those young nobles who already had weak wills.

Finally, it was Ito Hirobumi, the most shrewd and calculating middle-aged man who had remained silent until then, who slowly spoke. His voice was hoarse and dry.

"We are willing to give it a try."

"But, Onitsuka-kun, those Dragon people are really too powerful." He looked at Onitsuka and asked the most realistic question, "What should we do?"

"It's very simple." Onitsuka's lips curled up into an evil, calculating arc again. It was as if everything had already been planned.

He pulled out several palm-sized, oddly shaped, disc-shaped metal devices from his pocket and threw them on the table.

"Our friends at the CIA had anticipated this situation. In addition to the genetic medicine, they also gave us a few small toys specifically designed to deal with these 'tin cans'."

"Single-use, electromagnetic pulse (EMP) grenade."

"Its effective range is only fifty meters, though. Furthermore, it only lasts for a short three seconds."

He looked at the puzzled looks of the crowd, sneered, and explained.

"But these three seconds are enough for the knife in our hands to split their turtle shells, along with the people inside, in half."