A Guide to Farming in a Mobile City-Chapter 218 : “It’s Over, Let’s Begin”

Chapter 218: “It’s Over, Let’s Begin”
Three hours before the abolition of the Silence Agreement.
In an upper-deck room aboard the Tomorrow, Li Ye opened the System Panel.
A new round of intelligence had already been refreshed.
【1. The South Antarctic Ocean will remain calm and windless for the coming week. (Intelligence Value: Ordinary)】
【2. The Iron Oath Brotherhood’s Level-4 naval forces have already taken position in the northern seas of the Western Wasteland Continent. Once the countdown ends, they will launch an assault on the Monstrous Civilizations stationed on land. (Intelligence Value: Excellent)】
【3. Natural Selection has forcibly conscripted the Level-4 Fire Elemental Civilization of the Southern Continent, ordering them to completely destroy the Great Wall. (Intelligence Value: Excellent)】
【4. With the abolition of the Silence Agreement, the territorial war between humans and monsters in the Southern Continent has officially come to an end. The Wasteland God of War, War-Lord, appeared extremely displeased, for the war had ended far too hastily. (Intelligence Value: Rare)】
【5. A few days ago, leaders of both humanity and monsters held another conference to discuss whether to lift the nuclear weapon restrictions on the Wasteland. After deliberation, both sides decided to maintain the nuclear control policy. (Intelligence Value: Exceptional)】
【6. Refreshing... (Intelligence Value: Epic)】
After finishing his work, Li Ye went to find someone.
That person was Whiteman, who was still aboard the Tomorrow with his team, maintaining order.
At that moment, Whiteman was speaking softly with several residents of the ship. When he saw Li Ye approaching, a hint of confusion flickered in his eyes.
“What’s the matter? Do you need something?”
Li Ye paused, recalling a particular phrase mentioned in the intelligence.
The Wasteland God of War, War-Lord, had watched over the entire Southern Continent War.
He spoke slowly.
“Bishop Whiteman, as a bishop of the Apocalypse Sect, you should know of the Wasteland God of War, right?”
Whiteman froze.
Regaining his composure, he excused himself from the nearby residents, then waved lightly to Li Ye.
“Come with me. Let’s find a quiet room to talk.”
Among all the Wasteland Gods, one deity was especially unique.
He was regarded as the embodiment of war, blood, and glory—
War-Lord.
Legend said that He was a towering giant god seated upon a Throne of War forged from countless weapons.
Beneath that throne lay a sea of corpses and machines, built from the bones and armaments of the fallen.
The War-Lord took human form, His entire body encased in heavy armor, His eyes burning with eternal rage.
He possessed an endless thirst for conflict, believing that only through unceasing battle and slaughter could the world’s laws be manifested in their purest form.
Though His heart was filled perpetually with brutality and fury, when gazing upon the struggles of living beings, He would often reveal a faint expression of joy.
After hearing Whiteman’s explanation, Li Ye fell into thought.
Now, he had a preliminary understanding of this Wasteland God.
Even so, he still appeared deeply concerned.
The power of a Wasteland God was beyond imagination—fortunately, War-Lord had merely acted as an observer in the Southern Continent War.
Soon, another question surfaced in his mind.
“Then, Bishop Whiteman—has War-Lord ever appeared in the world before?”
Whiteman slowly shook his head.
“No.”
“I see.” Li Ye nodded lightly.
He looked at Whiteman again and asked a second question.
“Then... do you know anything about the Wasteland God Miwei?”
At that, Whiteman’s expression changed dramatically—terror even flashed across his face.
“Where did you hear about Him?”
Seeing the man’s reaction, Li Ye immediately sensed something was wrong.
“What’s the matter, Bishop Whiteman?” he asked softly. “Is that Wasteland God... terrifying?”
Miwei.
A Wasteland God who possessed both the innocence of a child and the cruelty of a monster that delighted in toying with life.
He represented twisted childishness, ignorant malice, and unparalleled power.
This deity acted without logic, indulging in endless “games,” mocking and deceiving all living beings.
He was the most unpredictable threat in the entire world.
Unlike the other Wasteland Gods, Miwei sought neither conquest nor destruction, nor did He crave the faith of mortals.
He simply wanted to play.
And His games—no living being could afford to play.
A hundred years ago, Miwei once played such a “game.”
At that time, the entire world was shrouded in an endless mist of His creation.
No force could disperse the fog, and all detection methods within it became useless.
Both monsters and humans alike lost their way in that mist.
Worse still, within it appeared countless grotesque and malformed abominations—
Massive, decaying doll-monsters, stitched together from leather, rotting cloth, and rusted metal frames.
Their joints were twisted; their proportions, distorted—like toys haphazardly assembled by a child. Their fingers were long and thin, like blades.
These doll-monsters could not be killed by any means, and anything they touched would be assimilated into another doll.
Whether human or monster, all could only hide within the fog, praying not to be found.
That “game” of hide-and-seek, woven by Miwei on a world scale, left behind an immense shadow upon every survivor’s heart.
The fog did not last long—within a week, it vanished completely, and the dolls disappeared without a trace.
Those who survived immediately began investigating Miwei.
Yet, after a full century, no one uncovered a single clue.
No one knew what this Wasteland God looked like, nor where He hid within the world.
Even the Apocalypse Sect, who worshipped the Wasteland Gods, listed Miwei as a forbidden deity not to be followed.
At this, Li Ye’s heart sank.
He recalled the earlier Epic-grade Intelligence Summary that had mentioned one thing—
In the near future, Miwei would launch a prank upon the entire world.
If it was another “game” like that mist… then things would be disastrous.
For the next while, neither spoke again.
They waited quietly—
Waiting for the final countdown to end.
Time passed, moment by moment, and the room grew still.
Five, four, three, two, one—
As the countdown ended, Li Ye’s breath caught in his throat.
Has it begun...?
He looked around in confusion. Everything seemed calm.
As if nothing had happened—
Yet perhaps, everything had already begun.
Northern Seas of the Western Wasteland Continent.
A massive aircraft carrier fleet advanced majestically across the vast ocean.
Between the blue sea and sky, the enormous carrier loomed like a maritime overlord, slicing through the waves. The prow sent up great sprays of white foam, and the fighter jets lined neatly on deck gleamed with a cold brilliance beneath the sunlight.
Destroyers, cruisers, and frigates surrounded the carrier in tight formation, forming a solid defensive perimeter, leaving behind long white wakes across the sea.
Faint smoke rose from the ships’ funnels, mingling with the sea breeze, creating a grand and magnificent sight.
Signal lights between the ships flashed continuously.
This was a fleet of aircraft carriers belonging to the Iron Oath Brotherhood.
Inside the command room of the carrier, the Commander silently watched his wristwatch.
When the second hand ticked to twelve, he nodded lightly.
“It’s over.”
Then, he turned toward the crew before him.
“Now, let’s begin.”
The goal of this carrier fleet was to eliminate the Level 1 and Level 2 Monstrous Civilizations in the northern coastal regions of the Western Wasteland Continent.
The first target—
the Walrusfolk Civilization entrenched in the Level 2 region, the Icefield Zone.
With a single command from the Commander, the carrier fleet immediately entered combat readiness.
Ear-piercing alarms echoed through the fleet as deck crews sprinted in haste.
The roar of carrier-borne engines tore apart the calm sea and sky.
Fighter jets were launched from catapults one after another, their blazing tails cutting across the sky like streaks of light.
The escorting destroyers and cruisers had already opened the hatches of their Vertical Launch Units.
Surface-to-air and cruise missiles stood primed for launch, while the radar screens flickered densely with light dots—foretelling the storm of annihilation to come.
The Walrusfolk Civilization had already detected the enemy’s approach and dispatched their forces to intercept.
Across the sea, numerous Level 2 Mobile Cities of the Walrusfolk accelerated forward.
Jet planes, helicopters, speedboats, and small submarines swarmed outward like an army of ants.
Leading the charge was their air fleet—
Jet planes tore through the clouds while helicopter squadrons advanced just above the waves.
The shriek of engines and the thundering of rotor blades merged into a mighty, sweeping symphony.
Their target—
the Aircraft Carrier.
And facing them were two cruisers.
As soon as radar locks were confirmed, the cruisers opened fire.
The Vertical Launch Units burst open, releasing countless anti-air missiles like drawn blades that pierced the clouds through the rising smoke.
The moment missiles met aircraft, a web of death unfolded in the sky.
Countless jet fighters and helicopters were torn apart before they could even evade.
Their fuselages disintegrated midair, and the pilots, without even a chance to eject, turned into streaks of burning meteors.
When the few surviving enemies broke through the interception and closed in,
the Close-In Weapon Systems on the cruisers’ bows and sterns roared to life.
The 20mm autocannons unleashed a torrent of molten metal at a rate of 4,500 rounds per minute.
Casing shells cascaded onto the deck like rain.
The remaining enemy aircraft were consumed in the intersecting storm of bullets—rotor blades shattered, fuselages twisted, and the flaming wrecks crashed into the sea, sending pillars of spray skyward.
When the smoke cleared, the waters around the cruisers were littered with mangled wreckage and oil slicks.
The Captain nodded and calmly ed,
“Airspace clear.”
The sky had barely returned to calm before the sea stirred once more.
The Walrusfolk’s Level 2 naval forces were surging forward.
Over a hundred Level 2 Armed Speedboats charged like bloodthirsty sharks, their bows mounted with Heavy Machine Guns, while the Walrusfolk aboard wielded all kinds of Level 2 Firearms and Rocket Launchers.
In the shadows beneath the waves, dozens of Small Submarines crept closer, attempting to ambush the carrier.
But awaiting them were the fleet’s destroyers.
On the destroyer’s radar screen, every enemy speedboat and submarine was displayed with perfect clarity.
“—enemy speedboat cluster at bearing 175, distance 12 nautical miles,” a naval officer ed.
The Captain nodded and issued the order.
“Switch surface-to-air missiles to anti-ship mode. Lock targets and open fire.”
With a thunderous roar, the Vertical Launch Units on the destroyer’s deck sprang open, and several missiles screamed into the sky.
Before the horrified eyes of the Walrusfolk, they streaked toward them at lightning speed.
The first missile struck the lead speedboat directly.
The explosion’s shockwave hurled the entire craft into the air, scattering twisted debris like rain.
The second missile detonated in the midst of the formation, a storm of shrapnel sweeping in all directions—several boats burst into flames within seconds.
Then came the third, and the fourth—
The surviving speedboats still pressed on, attempting a suicidal charge.
But the deck-mounted autocannons had already come alive, their storm of molten rounds sweeping across the sea, obliterating everything in its path.
Meanwhile, the destroyers locked onto the positions of the Small Submarines.
The Multiple Rocket Depth Charge Launchers on deck slowly tilted upward, their black tubes gleaming coldly in the sunlight.
With an ear-shattering roar, numerous Depth Charges soared into the air trailing fiery tails, arcing into deadly parabolas before plunging into the sea.
The moment they hit the water, delayed fuses began counting down as the heavy warheads sank rapidly to their preset depths.
One after another, violent underwater explosions followed—
The small submarines twisted and buckled like crushed tin cans, their hulls shrieking before bursting apart with deafening cracks.
When the echoes finally faded, the sonar screen fell silent.
The small submarines—and their Walrusfolk crews—had become part of the deep forever.
At the same time as the Walrusfolk’s sea and air forces were annihilated, the carrier’s fighter squadrons completed their bombing runs on the enemy’s Mobile Cities.
Moments ago, the Walrusfolk’s cities had surged forward in grand formation—
Now, they lay shattered, drifting like the gnawed corpses of beasts upon the sea’s surface.
In barely ten minutes, the naval defenses of the Walrusfolk Civilization had been completely wiped out.
The carrier fleet then began its bombardment of their territory.
The enemy—utterly destroyed.
Our losses—zero.
Under the relentless assault of fighter squadrons and missiles, the coastal settlements of the Walrusfolk were reduced to blazing infernos.
In no time at all, the once-proud Level 2 Monstrous Civilization of the Icefield Zone was obliterated.
The carrier fleet set sail once more, advancing toward other coastal regions to continue its assault on additional Monstrous Civilizations.
And it wasn’t the only one—
Across the planet, similar scenes were unfolding.
The moment the Silence Agreement was abolished, humanity’s Three Major Organizations unleashed their full firepower, launching a frenzied extermination of the low-level monstrous civilizations scattered across the Wasteland.
In response, the Monstrous Forces began their counterattack.
Outer Space—Low Earth Orbit.
A Level 4 Satellite Weapon Platform belonging to the monsters activated.
Six colossal, black Superalloy Rods slowly extended from their Electromagnetic Rail System, adjusting their aim under orbital computer guidance.
Their target—
a Level 3 Human Fortress in Donghua Continent.
As the electromagnetic rails began charging, the superconducting coils emitted an eerie hum—
a vibration of death resonating through the vacuum.
The six Superalloy Rods were launched in sequence, streaking into the atmosphere, trailing comet-like tails tens of kilometers long—like thunder spears hurled by gods.
Moments later, they struck the Level 3 Fortress one after another.
Each rod released kinetic energy equal to that of a small nuclear detonation upon impact.
Walls and towers crumbled like brittle biscuits.
The ground rippled like waves before collapsing into a crater hundreds of meters wide.
When the dust settled, the once-mighty fortress had become nothing but a twisted metallic tomb.
At the center of the crater, only the broken stumps of six black rods remained, embedded deep into the earth like dark gravestones.
After confirming the target’s destruction, the Level 4 Satellite Weapon Platform began recharging and reloading, preparing to search for its next strike target.