Chapter 455.3: This SSSR-Rare God-Tier Pet MIGHT BE A LITTLE WRONG...

Thanks to Little Feather's keen senses, they avoided being trapped in the stairwell and instead maneuvered to the nearest floor to kite the incoming horde.

The firefight and explosions lasted a long time.

By the time Falling Feather and Little Feather escaped the ruins of the office building, it was already two hours later.

He finished off a trailing Cruncher with a grenade, exhaled sharply, and slumped down on the hood of a rusted-out car, wiping sweat from his forehead with his filthy sleeve.

Damn, that was close!

He nearly died... Again!

Imagine, an ace pilot biting the dust in a random ruin... How embarrassing.

Time slipped by unnoticed. Before he realized it, it was already dusk.

The setting sun stretched their shadows long, merging with the ruins of concrete and steel around them.

Little Feather shuffled over and a slender tendril floated up to Falling Feather’s temple, gently wiping off the black goo there. “Yiwu.” A soft murmur left its lips.

Hearing the soothing tone, Falling Feather chuckled and said, “Thanks.”

“Yiwu!” Little Feather replied happily, sounding like a cheerful little dolphin.

Falling Feather scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly.

He suddenly felt that this clingy little thing was actually kind of cute, even its blob-like features weren’t all that bad.

Well... The creature was based on him after all.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, the tendril that had wiped the goo from his forehead retreated and went into Little Feather's mouth.

Its cheeks bulged as if it were sucking on something.

Cold sweat and hot sweat instantly poured down Falling Feather’s face.

Something about the scene felt... Really, really off.

...

On the other side, at the southern side where Mosquito was baiting Little Feather into the mech he built...

With Old White's help, Mosquito finally managed to crawl out of the steel coffin he had built himself.

Since the Burning Corps was out on a mission, he had been stuck in there all afternoon with his butt in the air, nearly suffocating from the heat.

Seeing Mosquito in such a sorry state, Night Ten teased, “Damn, what kind of torture device did you invent this time? An automatic canning machine?”

Quit Smoking burst into carefree laughter. “Hahaha! I feel like it needs a fishing rod attached to it!”

Mosquito rolled his eyes, too lazy to argue with those uncultured barbarians who clearly didn’t appreciate true artistry.

“Piss off! That’s my Destroyer Mark 1! Tsk... looks like the transmission needs some work. Or maybe I need to at least add an auxiliary motor...”

Standing to the side, Gale rubbed the bridge of his nose. “To be fair... It’s a balance issue, right? If the center of gravity isn’t on the central axis, no matter how you design it, it’ll fall forward.”

Mosquito scratched the back of his head and let out a sheepish laugh. “... You’re probably right. Kind of forgot that bit.”

Gale’s eyelids twitched slightly. “...”

Trying to shift the conversation away from himself, Mosquito coughed and changed the subject. “By the way, why didn’t you guys head to the front line?”

Night Ten chuckled, “We’re the trump card squad, not cannon fodder. If we all went to the front, who would handle homeland defense?”

Gale nodded.

“Yeah, speaking of which, we actually caught two spies recently... They snuck in from the Bugra Free State. Someone paid them to disguise themselves as refugees and infiltrate the industrial district of Dawn City, planning to blow up our tank production line.”

Mosquito exclaimed in shock, “Holy crap, those guys still haven’t given up?!”

Old White sneered, “They’re probably getting desperate. After all, our guys completely wrecked a multi-million deal of theirs. Their forces are stuck on the south bank of Heavenly Water River. They can’t mess with us in the open, so they resort to underhanded tactics. Anyway, what about you? You’ve been hanging around the back for a whole week now...”

“Exactly. It’s been long enough for you to die twice! All you made was that tin can?” Night Ten teased, dragging the topic back to the utterly impractical Destroyer Mark 1.

Knowing there was no escaping the roasting, Mosquito sighed, “Ah... don’t remind me. I thought I was making a god-tier suit for Falling Feather’s battle pet, but I didn’t expect that Mother Body to be so dumb it couldn’t even understand what I was saying.”

Gale raised an eyebrow and looked at Mosquito like he was looking at an idiot... Which he was. “Have you considered the possibility that maybe you misunderstood how the Mother Body is meant to be used?”

Even just going by the name, it didn’t sound like it was designed for combat, right?

Based on what they had gathered so far, hunting was basically the job of Mutant Smile Molds and the Evolved Types.

Those two were like the laborers and specialists of the Slime Mold society.

“Or maybe it’s just too weak right now and can’t handle that kind of armor...”

Old White tapped on the hull of Destroyer Mark 1 with interest. “If this thing were a bit lighter, say only a ton or two, maybe a strength type can actually wear it...”

Mosquito’s eyes lit up. “I’ll work on it!”

The sun quickly dipped below the horizon.

Having spent the entire day handling administrative work in the viewing chamber, Chu Guang got a quick update from Little Seven about the Mother Body's status.

To prevent Little Feather from going berserk, he had sent a Hummingbird drone to tail it from above ever since Falling Feather took it out of the shelter.

So far, Little Feather's behavior had been stable, showing no clear hostility toward humans.

Interestingly, the other Slime Molds didn’t seem to regard it as kin, instead treating it like any other organic creature in need of purification.

The enemy of an enemy wasn’t always a friend, but it could be an asset worth bringing over to their side.

Chu Guang extended his finger to turn off the holographic screen hovering in front of him and leaned back on the sofa. “Keep monitoring Little Feather. Unless something big happens, you don’t need to report every detail.”

Little Seven buzzed, “Understood, Master.”

Chu Guang continued asking, “What about the front line? Any news from them?”

“According to player reports and forum posts, Oasis No.9 is now fully under our control. There’s been occasional skirmishes on the northwest defensive line, but no large-scale engagements. Based on our command’s analysis, it seems the Army is waiting for us to push into the desert, their home turf.”

Hearing the report, Chu Guang’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Then let them keep waiting.”

The Skeleton Corps had finished assembling west of Oasis No.9, and the Storm Corps had been training the Lion Kingdom for a full week.

The five Cloudfly planes sent by the Enterprise had been relocated to the airfield in Heavenly Water Municipality. Once their New Alliance’s pilots completed training, they would be ready for deployment.

And just the day before, Chu Guang had re-established contact with Yun Song.

Over 20 exoframes clad elites and more than 100 soldiers in battle exoskeletons would soon join up with several hundred cloned commando units dispatched by the Health Luxury Corporate Group into an independent 1,000-man strike force, poised to launch an offensive on the Falcon Kingdom’s territory in Oasis No.2 the same time they struck.

Oasis No.2 was the gateway to the desert.

According to Luo Hua’s intel, the Pioneer was seized by the Army not long after traveling through Oasis No.2 into the desert, and likely wasn’t far from its western border.

To prevent the Army from going scorched-earth and destroying the Pioneer, they needed to launch a two-pronged assault.

“Everything’s in place... We just need to wait for the right opportunity...”

If everything went smoothly, by year’s end, Griffin could finally reunite with his old friend McClennan.

Just as Chu Guang was lost in thought, Little Seven’s voice came again. “Master, Prince Somer of the Honey Badger Kingdom requests an audience.”

“Tell him to come here.”

It was already so late, and Chu Guang had eaten dinner in North Street Market. He couldn’t be bothered to go out again.

Sitting at the edge of his desk and swinging its legs, Little Seven gave him a spirited nod. “Got it!”

...

Meanwhile, in the depths of the desert at Lost Valley, Reddy stood still on the edge, gazing eastward.

After a long time, it murmured softly, “Yiwu.”

Standing behind it, Dove looked surprised. “You mean... The seed of life we scattered has vanished?”

“Yiwu.”

Reddy shook its head, then nodded. It didn’t say anything, but it also said everything.

Dove clearly understood. There are many ways to transmit information, not all need a material medium.

Although Reddy couldn’t directly communicate with its child over 1,000 kilometers away, a spiritual link still allowed it to sense its presence.

Now, that link had been severed, but Reddy had denied that it was because its child had died.

That left only one possibility. The symbiote on that young man had been transformed into something else.

But what?

Rubbing his chin with a bony finger, the rotting face of Dove didn’t show much change in expression, but his crimson eyes glowed with curiosity. “I see... How interesting. These kids actually pulled it off.”

The secret he spent decades deciphering... Those people cracked it in just a few days.

In their crumbling world, someone actually understood more about Slime Mold than he did.

Unbelievable...