Free Web NovelChapter 1183: Chapter 182: Awesome (4K)
Boom!!!
A metal shell weighing several tons, with a thunderous force, crashed at the center of the aircraft graveyard, directly shattering an unfortunate Boeing 737 airliner and raising a pillar of fire over ten meters high.
The shockwave from the explosion knocked nearby ground staff to the ground, their eardrums shattered by the deafening noise, causing a pale stream of blood to trickle from their ears. But what was more horrifying was,
in the crater formed by the shell, plant vines grew endlessly, entangling the limbs of the surrounding Bugman, dragging them heavily into the deep pit.
Not long after, a batch of white Fungus Men, parasitized by mycelium, crawled out of the pit, incoherently roaring as they rushed towards the uninfected Bugman.
Thick smoke, screams, explosions.
Chaos engulfed much of the airbase, and any Bugman touched by a white Fungus Man soon sprouted mycelium, continuing the cycle of infection.
American soldiers, rushing up from the underground facility with extinguishers, flamethrowers, and rifles, stood frozen at the chaotic scene before them, unsure of what to do,
until their officers roared at them in anger, they belatedly raised their weapons to shoot, trying to stop the advance of the white Fungus Men—but it was to no avail,
the Bugmen infected by fungus could also use weapons, and those hit by bullets would be infected as well. The survival mechanisms of all Fungus Men had changed; even if their heads were blasted apart by bullets, they could still move. Only by shattering their spines could one slow their actions.
"Hold them back! Protect the General!"
A squad of American soldiers, wearing gas masks and full-body protective suits, occupied one of the entrances to the underground facility, struggling to hold back the relentlessly advancing Fungus Men.
The remaining soldiers, seeing that a breakout was impossible, had no choice but to retreat with the Lieutenant General and senior officers into the depths of the underground facility, closing the heavy metal gate and turning the one-meter diameter compass lock to completely isolate the inside space from the outside.
"The aircraft graveyard has fallen."
A Bugman officer with a Colonel’s rank took off the gas mask on his face and gave a bitter smile to his superiors, "Sir, what do we do now?"
"..."
The Air Force Lieutenant General took a deep breath, turning to look at the screen of the closed command center.
On the screen, the airbase’s logistical staff and retired pilots conscripted from all over the world were being efficiently assimilated into Fungus Bugman by the pervasive fungal smoke,
flowers and weeds grew on their heads, torsos, and limbs, constantly releasing dandelion-like fungal spores—somewhat similar to AIM’s description of the [Pale World], but seemingly different in some way.
Any base soldiers without gas masks or protective suits were immediately assimilated into Fungus Bugmen upon inhaling the fungal spores,
on the surface of the airbase, only a few surviving soldiers were left, some defending the entrances of buildings, resisting with difficulty,
or attempting to drive cars, planes,
to leave the already fallen airbase.
Oddly, the Fungus Men seemed to only target the American soldiers who resisted to the end, not interfering with those trying to flee.
"Not good! They’re using the airbase’s vehicles to further spread the fungus!"
The Air Force Lieutenant General instantly realized something was wrong, grabbed the satellite phone on the table, and made a call, "Air Combat Command, immediately conduct saturation missile strikes on my location at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base!
Immediately conduct saturation missile strikes here!
No aircraft must be allowed to leave here!"
Li Rising’s earlier combat performance somewhat aligned with AIM’s prior estimations—he deliberately avoided the bombardment of intercontinental ballistic missiles, choosing not to prove that he could withstand it.
This was not because he couldn’t do it, but to save energy, using it more efficiently in his annihilation.
Davis-Monthan Air Force Base was his first step in launching a counterattack.
"Are you sure, General Steve Tate?"
The senior liaison officer on the other end of the satellite phone hesitated for a moment, the Air Force Lieutenant General couldn’t afford to yell, directly reporting his internal code for Air Combat Command, "BM812DCAT,
Remember, carry out tactical nuclear saturation bombing, also cleanse the underground defense facility where I am with bunker busters and solidified gasoline bombs.
The entire Davis-Monthan Air Force Base has become a Pale World infection zone. Any departing flight vehicles or individuals must be immediately destroyed,
including me.
I...have no further value to be rescued."
After being enlightened by the AIM documentary, the senior generals of American Bugman civilization deeply understood the lethality of the [Pale World].
Perhaps for entities like AIM and Li Rising, whose foundations and homes are not here, this planet is just a fleeting backdrop for them, inconsequential if it gets ruined.
But for Bugman civilization, there is only one earth.
hours of extermination defense is not everything; they must consider what comes after.
"Understood."
The senior liaison officer on the other end of the satellite phone nodded heavily, "The first wave of air-to-ground missiles will arrive in five minutes. General, thank you for your contribution to the country and Bugman civilization."
"Contribution..."
The Air Force Lieutenant General sighed with an intense bitterness, slowly putting down the satellite phone, shaking his head with a bitter smile at his silent subordinates, "Everyone, I’m sorry, I dragged you along with this old man as my companions in death...."
"No, General, it is our honor to die with you!"
"General..."
"Bugman shall prevail!"
Loud responses echoed underground,
The Colonel-ranked officer silently took a pocket watch from his chest, opened the watch face, glanced at the photo of his wife and daughter inside, choked back tears as he closed it, about to say something to convey his inner patriotic fervor to the Air Force Lieutenant General,
when he noticed his comrades around him casting him looks of incredible fear.
"Hmm? What’s wrong with you all..."
This nameless Colonel, still in confusion, found his mouth inexplicably opening on its own, spewing dozens of thin vines from his throat, precisely penetrating the throats of the surrounding officers and the Air Force Lieutenant General.
When...was I...parasitized by the fungus...
An infinite regret surged in the unnamed Colonel’s heart, his consciousness gradually fading, while the Air Force Lieutenant General, his throat pierced by the thin vines, also painfully clutched his throat.
He could feel a massive amount of mycelium rapidly infiltrating his brain through the plant vines, yet he had no strength left to draw his weapon and pull the trigger on himself.
For...why...
The image of the AIM-held video conference two hours earlier appeared in the Air Force Lieutenant General’s mind,
During the video conference, AIM explicitly mentioned that the fungi of the Pale World possess extremely strong erosive and destructive power against Earth with 21st-century technology levels.
If Earth’s humanity remains unprepared, over 90% of survival space will be occupied by the Pale World within a year, with survivors only able to scrape by at the poles.
Should the Pale World receive an abnormal infusion of energy, the time required to conquer Earth could be cut down to a month or even a week.
Yet this also implies that the Pale World is more akin to a "posthumous trump card" lacking advanced intelligence.
To endow the Pale World with advanced intelligence, capable of setting traps, infiltrating undetected, and parasitic control, it requires the operator, Li Rising, to remotely control it personally.
The Air Force lieutenant general’s mind was flooded with countless thoughts in his final moments.
Why does he insist on killing me?
Isn’t his aim to use the hundreds of planes in the Davis-Monthan Air Force Base to help spread the Pale World?
Could it be... the aircraft graveyard’s destruction was just his facade? His real goal is to control me?
A look of terror and despair flashed in the general’s eyes as he no longer cared about the vine piercing his throat, causing immense pain.
Instead, he grasped the satellite phone tightly and slammed it down, trying to cut off communication.
He had realized Li Ang’s aim,
but alas, it was too late.
The fungi directly injected the muscle-spasm-inducing drug into his arm, stripping him of control over his body.
He could only watch in horror as his body calmly picked up the satellite phone, cleared his throat, and resumed a normal tone, saying to the senior liaison officer at the air command center: "Oh, sorry, facing death straightforwardly is really not easy."
"Could I say something to Tao Te? He’s my college roommate and also my best friend."
Tao Te, the air force general, was the commander of the Anti-air Command Center. In certain unofficial rumors, he had once swooped in to claim the general’s love, causing the two to never interact again.
The senior liaison officer glanced at the radar map on the computer screen; in just three minutes, hundreds of missiles would reach the skies above Davis-Monthan Air Force Base, thoroughly clearing the area contaminated by the Pale World.
Perhaps out of some respect for a hero, the senior liaison officer deeply inhaled from inside a cave in Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, and said, "Sorry, General, according to the Prevention of Psychic Ability Pollution Manual from AIM,
I cannot directly transfer your communication to General Tao Te.
What do you want to say? I’ll convey it for you."
"Convey, huh..."
Covered by fungi, the Air Force lieutenant general’s mouth curled into a strange smile, "Very well, it’s the same.
Please tell him..."
"Your wife is awesome?"
The senior liaison officer was dumbfounded, repeating the lost words of the dying general; he could not comprehend why, facing death from the Pale World, the general’s final words were this.
Shouldn’t he express some final sentiments of life reflection, patriotic emotions, and hope for victory against the Bugman?
The senior liaison officer at the Anti-air Command Center hesitated, not wanting to disturb the busy commander with such a nonsensical message at this time.
But an inexplicable intuition kept repeating it in his mind.
As if in a trance, the senior liaison officer picked up the phone and dialed the number for the Anti-air Command Center in the same Cheyenne Mountain.
At this moment, the four-star general and anti-air commander were planning the intercontinental missile launch process with other officers. Upon hearing this news, before even grieving for an old friend, he plunged into greater confusion.
What does this sentence mean?
Expressing hatred from being past love-swiped before dying?
The Anti-air Commander initially wanted to angrily reprimand his subordinates for delivering such needless news during such a time, but inexplicably, the words echoed relentlessly in his mind.
Not only him, all senior officers in the command room who heard this sentence fell into deep reflection, profoundly immersed as if seeing great truths about civilization and life within this senseless phrase.
"Your wife is awesome?
Your wife is awesome...
Your wife is awesome!"
The four-star general’s face showed the same strange smile as the general’s, pushing aside his subordinates, picking up the satellite phone, and called colleagues at the Africa Integrated Combat Command, the All-American Network Warfare Command, the European Command, the Indo-Pacific Command Center, and other departments.
All senior officers who received the call were initially bewildered, then enlightened, followed by an ecstatic frenzy, eventually grabbing the satellite phone themselves to spread it to other senior officers they knew, just like that.
Just like schoolchildren learning curious nursery rhymes, eager to sing them to their peers.
This is meme pollution.
Over Los Angeles, Li Ang calmly looked away from Davis-Monthan Air Force Base.
Psychic abilities are mysterious and unpredictable, especially the enchanting system most adept at manipulating hearts.
Sometimes, all it takes is a book, an image, an audio clip, or even a meaningless and nutritious phrase to subtly and massively twist ordinary people’s cognition.
Now, the upper decision-making layer of the American military must be half-paralyzed, right?
AIM undoubtedly has some defenses against psychic abilities, but he wouldn’t have expected that I’ve nearly advanced to a level seven Psychic, capable of achieving meme pollution with just a single sentence.
Even if he had preventive measures, he couldn’t quickly stop the spread of memes in a short time.
The launch frequency for missile tracking will unavoidably slow down.
Li Ang unabashedly cut off energy output to the Train Defense Cannon, invoked the Cloud Ascending Ladder, rose to a high place, and pulled the trigger towards the east.
With no outside interference, it would take several hours to a day for the American military to bypass the mad senior officers, strip them of decision-making power, re-establish a set of strategic decision-making systems.
AIM must make a decision: either abandon the American missile defense system, relaxing restrictions on Li Ang’s actions, relying solely on Europe and Russian intercontinental missiles.
Or he has to personally intervene to reorganize the American missile defense decision-making system, which would greatly increase the probability of Li Ang discovering his whereabouts.
Without intercontinental missiles shadowing him, Li Ang unemotionally teleported five hundred kilometers away, once again pulling the trigger towards the distance.
Now, AIM is finally forced to respond.
Regardless of AIM’s decision, Li Ang will accelerate his apocalypse plan.
He is going to trigger a volcanic eruption.
