Ultraman Legend of the Light Chaser

This earthquake will originate in South George Island, cross the Northern and Southern Hemispheres, span seven continents and eight oceans, and plunge the headquarters located at sea into a "tsunami," likely throwing many people off their seats, perhaps even the person at the very top...

The team leader dared not think any further.

……

Meanwhile, at Vladivostok Airport.

Two guests disembarked from the small plane and were greeted by a shuttle bus to the VIP channel. The man in the rolled-up hat sniffed, smelling the scent of money.

“I really liked it when this place was still in chaos,” the man in the wool coat pointed to a row of buildings. “It used to be a slum, full of shacks, and many people would freeze to death every winter… I would go there in the winter and take away a healthy child with a cup of hot milk.”

The man in the rolled-up hat made a "hmm" sound. Although he hadn't stayed on Earth as long as the man in the wool coat, his time there wasn't short either.

When he arrived, the earth was engulfed in the smoke of war, with people dying every moment. The dead were too numerous to manage, let alone the missing. Therefore, having witnessed the "golden age" of war, the wool coat-wearing man was utterly uninterested in the South George Island prison. Stealing and swindling illegal immigrants and gangsters was nowhere near as convenient as recruiting people village by village during a real hot war.

The answer is that enemy troops, bandits, and mountain brigands entered the village, and the entire village was wiped out!

The man in the wool coat clearly had a deep longing for that wonderful era. He pointed to the skyscrapers, but in his eyes, it seemed as if he could see the shacks filled with crows again: "Everyone was dirt poor. I could exchange a whole piece of land for the price of cabbage, as long as I gave the people I passed through some gifts—their taste was terrible, they only liked shiny stones. If I tried to exchange it with them for precious metals, they wouldn't even bat an eye."

"And that's how we got the church and office space we have now in the downtown area."

"Buildings and countless safe houses," the woolen coat said, "the most stable thing on Earth is gold, and the most stable thing in the universe is time. If we possess gold and time on Earth, we can control the world."

He reached out his hand into the void and gently grasped it, as if stirring up a pool of spring water.

"Is this all you've learned on Earth?" asked the man in the rolled-up hat.

“Who would voluntarily learn these things if it weren’t necessary?” The man in the wool coat laughed. “You should say that it was Earthlings who taught me these things.”

Chapter 179 Orange Lamp

A day apart feels like three autumns. After countless autumns, Fujisawa Sousuke, who was almost driven to zen by loneliness, finally saw his captain again.

God knows why the captain always likes to come see him late at night.

Footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor, going back and forth several times, the sound so faint that it was almost inaudible due to the heavy iron door.

But Sosuke could hear it clearly, even in his sleep.

He jumped up, slammed off the bed, and moved his now much heavier body to squeeze behind the door. His bright yellow eyes pressed against the peephole, trying to make out the shadows in the hallway.

It really is the captain! He was overjoyed.

Was the captain here to take me out? This place is so crowded I can barely fit. Just a few steps and I'm on the other side of the wall; it's so frustrating.

He watched as the shadow stopped a short distance away and then turned onto another road—a road he knew led to the monitoring room.

Sōsuke exhaled a long, white stream of steam in disappointment.

The captain doesn't have that much time to chat with me and listen to me complain about how small the room is. The first thing he'll do when he gets back is go find Fox, who's buried in the monitoring room. Maybe something big has happened outside.

"What's going on with Sosuke?" Aiba Yu hadn't even had time to wash off the fishy smell of the sea before heading straight to the monitoring room.

As expected, the people inside were still awake; working late into the night was the norm at TPC in the face of impending crisis.

But Sato wasn't there; his vice-captain was the one guarding the place.

"Captain Sato went to the Information Department's Public Opinion Monitoring Center. I thought he would tell you," the vice-captain said, rubbing his dark circles, his eyes wide open. "You just mentioned Sosuke? Fujisawa?"

“You misheard me,” Aiba Yu said, his expression unchanged. “Captain Sato asked you to monitor the ‘monster.’ Report any changes you see immediately.”

“I understand. I’m compiling the situation from the past two days to report to him… There’s some trouble in the Information Department. They’re working together, so they hardly have time to deal with anything else.”

"Troublesome matters?" Aiba Yu had just come ashore from the sea and was naturally unaware of the recent uproar. He only knew that the handling of South George Island would cause such a commotion within the General Staff, but he was unaware that information that should have been kept strictly confidential had been completely leaked by someone with ulterior motives.

The vice-captain hesitated for a moment, then whispered, "I heard it from someone else, please don't say I told you... Member states are very dissatisfied with TPC's handling of the alien and monster incidents, and the director is probably in danger of losing his job."

Aiba Yu was taken aback, and the vice-captain carefully observed his reaction. Everyone knew that this promising test pilot had left the lunar Carlo base and rejected the Victory Team's invitation, just to come back and coast along in the air force—to put it nicely, he was in charge of security; to put it bluntly, he had gone from a fighter test pilot to a security guard flying the planes.

The vice-captain knew that he valued Director Sawai's safety above all else. The South Pacific route was not safe, so he took the initiative to take on all the flight plans that would pass through there.

In the vice-captain's mind, Captain Aiba would definitely be furious. He would curse that all the heads of the member states would be voted out of office, but the director would not resign. It was not impossible that he would kick an innocent table a couple of times in anger.

Aiba Yu was indeed very angry. What kind of logic was it to start an internal earthquake when a formidable enemy was at hand? But from the moment he realized that the enemy's attack was not directed at the main battlefield, he knew that this day would come, even though it came a little early.

So he seemed too calm again. He asked a few more questions, which the vice-captain answered one by one, before he turned and left.

The sound of the door closing made Cangjie's anticipation rise again. His bright yellow eyes almost popped out of the door as he saw the captain emerge from the side path and glance at him from afar.

He saw the captain's reassuring smile, but unfortunately, those expectant steps never came towards him.

“I’ll come see you later,” Aiba Yu said.

Sosuke recognized the captain's words just from his lip movements. He immediately raised his claws and smashed them into the specially made metal ceiling, leaving a shallow dent.

Completely oblivious, he exclaimed excitedly, "Great! Captain, you go ahead and get busy!"

I've been training hard, carefully controlling my strength, and learning not to make scary noises in my throat. I've been reading and memorizing the flight manual every day... Sosuke had a lot to say, just waiting for the captain to come back so he could pour it all out to him: I want to go back.

Only after that figure disappeared at the end of the corridor did Sosuke belatedly look up. There was a dent in the ceiling, as if it were being gouged out of his heart.

……

Few people would knock on the director's office door at this time.

Firstly, it was late at night, and the elderly needed to rest; secondly, the wind was howling, and even a kind old man could feel a storm of anger.

Are you going to see the director now to congratulate him on his upcoming retirement?

“If things go well for them, you can go back to your hometown to retire soon,” Aiba Yu said.

The moon's shadow in the deep night casts a glaze on the windowsill.

The office was high up, offering a great view. The lights of people working overtime below resembled the bustling streets of a city—when you look down at the world from a high enough place, you can feel the loneliness of the wind.

“Only you dare to talk to me like that,” Sawai said.

He wasn't asleep; he was sitting behind the oak table that had been with him since the headquarters was built, a dim orange lamp casting a deep shadow on the wall.

"You just got back, you should rest first." Sawai smelled the seawater that had entered the office, which seemed as abrupt as a sword standing in water amidst the air filled with the aroma of coffee.

“Thank you for your hard work on the investigation. If it weren’t for you, we don’t know how much longer it would have taken us to uncover the secrets of South George Island,” he said. “I heard you have a fondness for wasabi pudding… The wasabi is probably fake, but the pudding might be real, so I prepared some. Would you like some late-night snacks?”

Aiba Yu was bewildered by his sudden change of topic, and for a moment he didn't know whether to talk about serious matters first or to find out which bastard had leaked the information.

“No need,” he refused outright. “I only came here to say…”

“Nothing is more difficult than setting up TPC. Nan talked to me for a long time but it wasn’t anything serious, so I sent him back,” Sawai said, picking up his nearly empty coffee cup. “If you’re going to say things like ‘we support you,’ then go back yourself. Getting some rest is more important than anything else.”

There was no sound from across the desk for a long time. Sawai looked up and saw that the other person's eyes were fixed on him—wasn't it true that he was Yoshioka's subordinate? When he learned that his old "rival" was about to be criticized and forced to resign, Yoshioka also stared at him silently until Sawai asked him with concern if he wanted to go to the medical department to have his eyes checked.

They seem to have some strange misunderstanding about themselves.

Sawai thought to himself that perhaps he had been playing the amiable old man for too long, to the point that everyone had forgotten the courage, strategy, and execution he displayed when he lobbied various countries to establish the TPC.

Before Aiba Yu joined the air force, his personal safety was not guaranteed; he was almost abducted by aliens, car and all. Now, it's just a political storm, so why is everyone on high alert, as if they're really about to be caught off guard?

As expected, after a long pause, Aiba Yu repeated what he had said years ago.

He was also at his desk then, looking as serious as a believer making a vow: "I will protect your ideals."

Sawai smiled and said, "Are you going to 'deal with' my political enemies? Or are you going to search for the aliens' base again? We are preparing a plan to deal with the mechanical civilization. It is the most important thing that concerns all of humanity. Let us old guys handle the political matters. Don't lose your composure."

"...The Naga created the neutron bomb, hoping to eliminate all the dangers on this planet by eliminating Earth," Aiba Yu said. "Until we find the location where they planted the neutron bomb, the Naga will always have the power to threaten us."

“You never reported this.”

The water in the kettle boiled, and white steam rose in gurgling motions, releasing a slight warmth into the air, which then cooled in the darkness.

“Because the Naga made a pact with me,” Aiba Yu replied, “If Earthlings can overcome the ‘constraints’ of mechanical civilization on their own, then they will acknowledge the power of the natives and cancel the plan to wipe everything out with neutron bombs.”

"You agreed?"

“I promised ‘Earth Monster Samuel’ I wouldn’t interfere,” Aiba Yu said. “TPC really needs a victory to gain recognition, not just from the Naga…”

“So you took advantage of the loophole and brought back the AI ​​Beloff from the mechanical civilization. What Beloff does has nothing to do with Samuel,” Sawai chuckled. “I knew you weren’t as stubborn as you seem.”

After a while, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the room again. Sawai said, "I have received your support, and I roughly know who is eager to get started... Maybe there are aliens involved, but I believe they are just adding fuel to the fire."

"TPC's primary mission remains dealing with the threat of mechanical civilization. Compared to the issue of survival, other problems are insignificant." He leaned back in his sofa chair, the unlit light in the office serving as the anchor of the entire headquarters.

Amidst these turbulent and turbulent times, he still sat in his warm and cozy office. His face was no longer young, like a painting fading, but the expression of the person in the painting remained unchanged.

After a moment of silence, he smiled again. This time, his tone no longer that of a TPC director, but that of an elderly man nearing retirement: "I believe that anything is possible with human effort, and there is no hurdle that cannot be overcome, but if... at least we must preserve our Special Life Form Management Regulations."

“That’s a good question from the host. Our TPC is a peace organization,” he sat up straight and said to Aiba Yu in the same serious tone, “I have always believed that force can solve the most urgent problems, while rules are beneficial for generations to come.”

Chapter 180 When in Rome, do as the Romans do

Vladivostok.

Places that can be called "bird markets" naturally become a paradise for birds every spring when the ice and snow melt.

The man in the rolled-brim hat was awakened by the chattering noise. He inhaled the biting cold air and desperately craved a bowl of sparrow soup.

"Good morning," his companion said, hearing the noise inside. He flung open the door, walked in against the morning light, carrying a bowl and some food. "Are you hungry? Would you like to try some of the local traditional food?"

"

"What does it taste like?" The man in the rolled-brim hat took the bowl. Inside was a clear, somewhat viscous liquid. He shook it slightly, and the liquid dripped down the rim of the bowl.

“Vodka,” the overcoat said, “if you can down a whole bowl of it, all the men in town will be happy to call you brother.”

Even the most clueless person could tell there was a catch in the "wool coat" comment. The man in the rolled-up hat promptly pushed the bowl aside. He noticed the rolled-up newspaper tucked under the other man's arm and reached out, saying, "Give it to me."

“Tasting local traditional food and reading the local headlines are the only ways to integrate into life on Earth,” the man in the wool coat said with satisfaction, handing over the newspaper. “I’m so glad you’ve finally figured it out.”

The man in the rolled-up hat scoffed and unfolded the newspaper—the front-page headline was quite invigorating, titled "A True Account of the Massacre: The End of the Cosmic Gang."