I built an armada.

Chapter 965 The Eastern Wilderness People's Dreams Shattered, Dragon Xia is Rising
The simple four words brought the weeping at the scene to a halt.

"this time."

The cabinet chief's voice was flat and monotone, as if stating a fact unrelated to himself: "We have lost again. We have lost utterly."

He made no attempt to explain, no attempt to shirk responsibility, and no attempt to paint any false hopes.

He simply tore away the last fig leaf with an almost cruel honesty.

"The ending is set."

He continued, "Staying here won't help. Go back. Afterwards... the Cabinet will give everyone an explanation."

After saying that, he stopped looking at anyone's reaction, slowly turned around, and walked back towards the heavy door with slightly unsteady steps.

The sunlight cast his shadow long and long onto the cold cement ground.

That figure, lonely and desolate, carried all the humiliation and pressure of a defeated tribal chief, slowly being swallowed up by the shadows inside the door.

Below the steps lay a deathly silent crowd and a desolate, heartbreaking mess.

The raging waves eventually give way to silent despair.

However, the power structure of Earth has been quietly overturned in this silent world.

The desolate figure of the cabinet leader, like a heavy period, not only ended the commotion outside the cabinet building that had lasted for several days, but also seemed to have drained the last bit of strength from the entire Eastern Wilderness tribe.

The door slowly closed, the metal clanging with a dull "click," like a giant coffin closing its final gap, isolating the figure bearing endless pressure and humiliation, and dividing the inside and outside of the door into two equally desperate, yet completely different worlds.

Below the steps, the more than 33,000 people from the Eastern Wilderness stood frozen in place, as if they had been collectively frozen in place, their breath seemingly stopped.

The brightly colored banner hung limply, like a broken wing.

The meticulously crafted signboard lay askew on the ground, unintentionally trampled by countless feet, its words becoming blurred and illegible.

The passionate, angry, and resentful cries that had been uttered earlier were now stuck in his throat, causing a painful lump in his throat.

The square fell into a deathly silence, a silence more oppressive than the previous clamor, as if it could swallow up all sound.

Then, the deathly silence was broken, not by slogans, but by suppressed, sporadic sobs. The sounds were initially faint, like the mournful chirping of autumn insects, but they spread and eventually merged into an uncontrollable sea of ​​desperate lamentation, wailing in the chilly morning breeze.

Hope, which once shimmered like bubbles in the sunlight with an illusory and alluring brilliance, has now shattered completely, leaving not even a trace of water behind.

The once righteous and assertive demands for "explanation" and "forced resignation" appear so pale and laughable, like the powerless babbling of a child, in the face of the leader's utterly exhausted and brutally honest words.

From the no longer upright figure of the cabinet chief, from the posture that seemed to have exhausted all his strength with every step, they did not sense the cabinet ministers' shirking of responsibility and deception.

Rather, it is a deeper, more profound sense of helplessness, despair, confusion, and utter despair, originating from the very marrow of one's bones. It is a sense of powerlessness that permeates from top to bottom and extends to the entire nation.

When even the helmsmen leading the tribe forward showed such expressions amidst the raging waves, what more could ordinary, drifting people ask for?
Where can we go? Ahead lies only an endless expanse of darkness and mist.

The march and demonstration ended abruptly.

The crowd dispersed silently, like the receding tide. No one shouted anymore, no one waved their fists; only heavy footsteps and suppressed sobs filled the chilly early autumn air.

The mess of flyers and slogans left behind tells the story of the intensity of the fight and the heartbreak of the moment.

Inside the cabinet meeting room, looking through the gaps in the blinds at the dispersing crowd below, several key ministers could no longer hold back, their eyes reddening and tears silently streaming down their faces.

They devoted themselves wholeheartedly to the resurgence of the Eastern Wilderness tribe.

They spent huge sums of money and traveled far and wide to buy and beg for advanced ships from the Eagle Tribe and its allies, and built up the "Eight-Eight Fleet" and "Ninety Fleet" that were once highly anticipated, dreaming that one day they could sail the ocean, restore the glory of their ancestors, and let the voice of the Eastern Wilderness Tribe resound throughout the Blue Star again.

But all of this was ruthlessly shattered in that encounter with the Longxia Navy.

The steel behemoth sank into the icy sea, along with their dream of rise, which they had painstakingly built.

How can outsiders possibly understand the heartache and setbacks involved?

The tribe's lifelessness was not limited to the area in front of the Cabinet Building.

The news spread like the coldest wind across the Eastern Wilderness Islands overnight.

The stock market is closed, shops are shut down, and schools are closed.

The streets were sparsely populated, and even those who were there hurried along, heads down, their faces devoid of any life.

The bars and izakayas were unusually full during the day, but no one was making noise; there was only the dullness of alcohol and the pervasive sense of despair.

Society as a whole seemed to have gone from a spirited young adult to a frail old age overnight, losing all its vitality and color.

Some people who could not accept reality chose to quietly leave this suffocating environment, going to the countryside or trying to contact overseas connections to find a glimmer of hope for a way out.

Those who went to extremes chose to bid farewell to the world that shattered their beliefs in the most resolute way.

Overnight, news of suicides driven by despair spread to multiple cities, blooming quietly like black wild roses on this land of widespread sorrow.

Amidst this overall decline, one group stands out as particularly anxious and disoriented: early immigrants from the Longxia tribe and their descendants.

They gathered in the community activity center and their own living rooms, with the doors and windows tightly closed, and the atmosphere was somber.

"It's over, it's completely over this time!"

A middle-aged man pounded his fist on the table, his face filled with fear. "The Longxia Navy is so powerful, what if... what if they attack? Those natives will definitely take their anger out on us! We'll be their punching bags!"

"Go back? Easier said than done!"

An elderly man wearing glasses shook his head with a wry smile. "You all know how strict the immigration policies are in Longxia. When we came here, even if we gave up our household registration there, it's now incredibly difficult to go back."

"Go to other countries? The Eagle Tribe's attitude towards us Eastern Wilderness people is quite subtle right now, and we probably won't be able to get visas."

A silence fell. The iron wall of reality suffocated them.

"or……"

A younger voice timidly suggested, "Should we tell the outside world... that we are actually descendants of the Korean tribe? Haven't other people done that before?"

These words drew several complex glances. Some were tempted, but most wore expressions of deeper sorrow and helplessness.

Either choice is fraught with humiliation and uncertainty.

Whether you abandon your roots or beg for someone else's shelter, which path isn't fraught with thorns?

But they didn't seem to have a better option.

When the dust of the times falls on an individual, it becomes a mountain, and the bitter fruit can only be swallowed by themselves.

"...No matter what, we have to bear the consequences ourselves."

Finally, the old man sighed, bringing this oppressive discussion to a helpless close.

In stark contrast to the gloomy atmosphere over the Eastern Wilderness Islands is the garrison base of the Eagle Tribe located in the Eastern Wilderness Tribe.

The place remains orderly and brimming with exotic vitality.

Especially in the upscale area of ​​the officers' mess, the soft lighting, the white tablecloths, and the silver cutlery create an atmosphere that seems completely isolated from the outside world.

General Cruz, the highest-ranking officer in charge of the garrison, was leisurely having breakfast. Opposite him sat his capable assistant, General Coro, and Captain Douglas, who had just finished his rest and was now in command of the USS Condor.

The atmosphere was relaxed and harmonious.

Just then, the restaurant door was pushed open, and a figure walked in somewhat hastily—Captain Willis of the USS Enterprise.

His face still seemed a little pale, and a trace of barely perceptible fear lingered deep in his eyes.

He went straight to the empty seat next to General Cruise, ordered a lavish breakfast from the waiter, and then began to wolf down his food rather rudely, as if trying to dispel some deep-seated chill with the food.

General Cruise frowned slightly, but said nothing.

He knew what Willis had experienced at sea recently—a close standoff with the mysterious Longxia Navy fleet equipped with unknown high-performance carrier-based aircraft.

It is said that the opponent's oppressive demeanor and fierce simulated attacks left a considerable "psychological shadow" on this experienced captain. It seems that the shadow has not completely dissipated.

General Coro seemed oblivious to Willis's unusual behavior as he put down his tablet.

He said to General Cruise in a slightly teasing tone, "General, I just received some interesting news. The Dragon Summer Navy... they've put the captured aircraft carrier 'Fukuno' from the Eastern Wilderness up for public auction."

"Pfft-cough cough cough!"

Willis, who was struggling to swallow his fried egg, suddenly choked, his face turned red, and he coughed violently, prompting the waiter next to him to quickly hand him a glass of water.

"Sorry... General, cough cough... I drank the water too fast." Willis finally caught his breath and hurriedly explained awkwardly, but his eyes flickered.

Only he himself knew that his momentary loss of composure was not because of drinking water.

When he heard the words "auctioning an aircraft carrier," what flashed through his mind instantly was the cold and intimidating words of the Longxia Navy commander, and the Longxia military insignia-painted fighter jet that almost skimmed the deck of the USS Enterprise.

If... if I hadn't chosen to keep my promise and back down in time, or even earlier, if I hadn't decisively raised the white flag...

So today, what is placed on the auction stage, enduring the ridicule of the world, is it his proud "Enterprise"?

Just thinking about that scene sent a chill down his spine, almost suffocating him.

Being captured, being auctioned off... for any naval officer, especially an aircraft carrier captain, this is a more humiliating outcome than being sunk.

He wolfed down his food, perhaps in this way suppressing the deep-seated fear of surviving the ordeal.

General Cruz gave Willis a meaningful look, but didn't say anything. He then turned to Koro and said, "Auctioning off captured warships? The Dragon Xia people have really gone too far this time."

"However, in this situation, it can be a kind of... highly effective propaganda."

Koro nodded and added, "Moreover, according to the leaked news and photos, the Dragonxia people do not seem to have thoroughly cleaned the 'Fukuno'."

"Up there... you can still see some tattered East Wilderness Sea Self-Defense Force flags, as well as some markings that haven't been completely removed."

General Cruise wiped his mouth with a napkin and pondered, "This is a bit... ungentlemanly. Although those who know will naturally understand the origin of this ship, according to custom, we should at least give the original owner some face and remove those overly conspicuous markings."

"Such a blatant display is almost humiliating."

"I believe this is exactly the effect the Longxia people wanted."

Koro analyzed calmly, a sharp glint in his eyes, "They're not just auctioning off a piece of spoils; they're sending a crystal-clear signal to all potential adversaries, especially us—"

"This is the consequence of being their enemy. It is a naked and undisguised intimidation. They are using the blood, tears, and dignity of the Eastern Wilderness tribes to build their own monument of prestige."

A brief silence fell over the restaurant.

The only sounds were Willis's occasional soft gasps of relief and the faint clinking of cutlery against plates.

General Cruise picked up his coffee cup and gazed out the window at the distant horizon, the direction from which the Longxia navy was becoming increasingly active.

He said slowly, "Deterrence? Indeed. Koro, take note. The Dragonxia tribe's way of doing things is becoming increasingly..."

"Confidence is growing, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to challenge. Inform intelligence to reassess all our operational plans in the Western Pacific. As for the Eastern Wilderness..."

He didn't say anything more, but both Coro and Douglas understood.

The Eastern Wilderness Tribe, once a pawn on which high hopes were placed and used to restrain Longxia, has had its value greatly diminished after this battle, and may even become a troublesome entity that requires careful handling.

Willis silently lowered his head and continued to work on the food on his plate, but his movements were no longer as hurried as before; instead, they were more deliberate.

He knew that from now on, that deep blue sea would no longer be their backyard where they could roam freely.

The enormous shadow cast by the Longxia Navy, like the cumulonimbus clouds constantly gathering and rolling on the distant horizon, weighed heavily and realistically on the hearts of every Eagle Tribe naval officer sailing in these perilous waters, including himself.

Breakfast continued in a subtle and complex atmosphere, as if the world inside and outside the restaurant had been split into two completely different dimensions.

One is sinking into despair, the other is scrutinizing with vigilance, and the giant hand from the East that stirred up all this turmoil is now calmly placing yet another piece called "deterrence" on the grand chessboard of Blue Star.

(End of this chapter)