Ultraman Legend of the Light Chaser

Just as the two left the narrow alley and gradually separated from the parade, someone raised their hand and pressed down on the earpiece at the edge of the street, dozens of meters away.

"The target is heading towards Nerima Ward. Team Three, we'll be there soon."

"Group Three received, target observed," a team member, who was crouching in some corner, responded with a buzzing sound of electricity. "Looks like they're not planning to stop and are going to cross our territory... Guess where those mechanical dinosaurs are hidden?"

"Why bother tracking them if you can guess correctly? Say less and keep the channel clean."

Far East Headquarters Base.

Takuma Sato took off his headphones, picked up the communicator that was lying to the side, and called out repeatedly, "Aiba, Aiba—Yu? Yu Yu Yu? Can you receive this?"

“I hear… I see.” Aiba Yu’s voice was broken.

“Okay, where have you gone this time? It’s tough on our equipment development center,” Sato breathed a sigh of relief, slowed down his speech, and enunciated clearly: “The dinosaur man ran away looking nervous. It seems he might have found Maru-sako’s location. The neutron bomb is indeed beyond our ability to deal with. You’ll have to work overtime.”

"Ah."

"Such a lukewarm reaction? A neutron bomb could evaporate all living things on Earth in the blink of an eye!" Sato said, "If I dictate my will to you now, or put it in a bomb bay and launch it into outer space, would that make it the only 'surviving' will on Earth?"

"Is it written for the Kyrielords?"

"Damn it! Seriously though, judging from the dinosaur people's movements, do the Naga people think they have an opportunity to break the agreement?"

“They value the reputation of the ‘God of the Universe’ above all else. Since they promised me, they won’t break their promise—at least not until the war between the mechanical civilization and us is over, they won’t detonate the neutron bomb.”

Aiba Yu said, "But the Naga people won't, and what about the Dinosaur people? Even if the Naga people tell the Dinosaur people the contents of the agreement, or even force them to agree, the Dinosaur people probably won't agree... They might even forcefully activate Maru-sho Nezha."

Sato nodded: "It was activated by the dinosaur people, and has nothing to do with the Naga people, right?"

"In the eyes of the 'God of the Universe,' are the Earthlings who have defeated the mechanical civilization a new civilization or an unstable factor?" Aiba Yu slowly said, "Is the neutron bomb meant to 'clean up' the Earthlings, or to 'clean up' the real threat? There are many kinds of threats. They could be the Dark Rulers, giants, ancient bloodlines that are all over the world, or even aliens—or they could be alien beasts."

"Compared to that, our little commotion as Earthlings is nothing," Sato pondered for a moment. "You mean they plan to use a neutron bomb to evaporate all life on Earth, good and bad, once and for all?"

"I don't know, but in any case, I can't leave my fate in someone else's hands." Aiba Yu thought of the day he made a promise with the Naga.

A dozen or so shadows of varying heights surrounded one person in the center. Their figures were reflected by the light onto the transparent wall of the spaceship, leaving black silhouettes.

The person standing in the very center is probably the one who had the conversation with Aiba Yu.

The man's words that day sounded incredibly sincere; even Aiba Yu couldn't detect a trace of falsehood. But now, thinking back, he must have been hiding many things. Was it Jia Zuo's enthusiasm, trying to convince him, or...?

……

Vladivostok.

Dusk reached the land west of the Sea of ​​Japan half an hour later.

The man in the wool coat picked up a handful of corn kernels and fed them to an unknown seabird. In the distance, Venus followed the sun as it slowly descended below the horizon.

A lone moon has risen over the other side of the sky, and seabirds flap their wings and hop clumsily across the white sand beach under its light.

"This one's a bit fatter." The man in the wool coat gently touched the seabird that was intently pecking at the corn.

A man in a rolled-up hat walked by in the distance, while a man in a wool coat waved to him.

“I didn’t know you still had the mind to…play with these seabirds,” the man in the rolled-brimmed hat said in a low voice. “The Tokyo parade will be a good opportunity for Machine Island to start a war. Tomorrow we’ll see all the newspapers’ front pages reporting that TPC is at war with an alien civilization.”

"No!" The man in the wool coat had hit him too hard, and the seabird pecked him hard and flew away.

"Can't report it?" the man in the rolled-brim hat asked blankly.

"The world is so big, there are so many good topics to write about that can make money, why focus on those deadbeats of mechanical civilization?" the woolen coat said. "There's still something to dig into TPC! Earthlings are working so hard to march and create momentum, keep writing about what they're hoping for! Can we write about aliens? Can we write about monsters? Can we write about giants? Can we write about monsters and giants getting along well and shaking hands like family?"

"...Are you kidding me?" The man in the rolled-up hat thought the man in the wool coat was probably crazy. Giants and monsters shaking hands and making peace—who would believe something that had never happened? If they ruined the platform's reputation, they wouldn't have time to train another capable "army."

He patted the sand off his hands with his wool coat. The sea breeze came, and with the cool of the night, the moon shone a silvery white on the beach.

The wind carries messages from afar, messages of anxiety and unease.

“I’m serious,” the wool coat said.

Chapter 185 Firelight

As the wool coat mentioned, newspapers and various media outlets and platforms are working overnight in response to TPC's new developments.

"We could do a special feature on this, and I believe many people will be interested in TPC's recent actions."

"This is quite interesting," someone remarked at a newspaper's briefing. "The fleet heading to the South Atlantic, TPC members lurking in the streets monitoring the protests, and today's news of a possible war with aliens... a perfect series."

“Perfect?” His colleague reminded him, “Overly chaotic, unfocused, or overly focused reporting will only negatively impact our clients’ perception of us—we should at least stick to one main theme.”

“The topic…” The first person to speak walked to the window. He opened the tightly closed aluminum window, and the sounds of the street instantly flooded into the room.

It was a protest march; they were staging a sit-in on a bustling commercial street. Yes, despite earthquake and tsunami warnings, these people ignored evacuation orders.

"There was no earthquake, no tsunami! These are just excuses you use to trick us into going back!" The voice carried on the night wind from afar, and everyone in the house fell silent, listening quietly.

“We’ll just sit here,” the voice called out clearly. “We’ll just watch. If TPC wins, we’ll all be safe, it doesn’t matter where we are. If TPC loses, we’ll all be implicated, and nowhere in this city will be safe.”

……

Tonight is destined to be a sleepless night.

The man in the rolled-up hat yawned and watched as the wool coat chased away the last greedy seabird.

At such a critical moment, they should be like the bosses in every movie, crouching in a technologically advanced and sufficiently dark place to strategize, rather than like a bored retired old man taking a walk on the beach after dinner and greeting every seabird he can catch.

“I’m serious.” The wool coat’s words made the rolled-brim hat think, “He’s finally gone mad.”

“We clearly have ways to interfere with what they write,” the man in the rolled-up hat urged. “Go back when you’ve had your fun. There’s a lot of work waiting for us to do.”

“All the actors are here, and the stage we’ve worked so hard to build is finished,” the man in the wool coat said leisurely, patting the sand off his hands. “At this time, we should appreciate the moonlight, the white sand, and the sea, forget about our work, and wait for the sun to rise tomorrow so you can see a unique sunrise.”

The man in the rolled-brimmed hat spat, "Who cares about moonlight, white sand, the sea, or the sunrise? What if the TPC wins? They're cursing so harshly now, just wait until they win..."

“The deeper the love,” the wool coat continued, “it’s great that you understand the power of public opinion backlash.”

"Is now the time to judge whether I'm great or not?!"

The man in the wool coat nodded: "Yes, that relates to what I should arrange for you to do when the sun rises tomorrow."

In Tokyo Bay and Vladivostok, the sun has already set, but if you cross the terminator, you can see it again.

As the squadron of aircraft led by Ralph crossed the terminator, the sun, which had been "extinguished," came back to life in their eyes, giving them the illusion of time flowing backward.

The golden color illuminated the clouds and the deep sea, and from the porthole, Ralph saw several black dots lined up in a long queue.

Transport ships departing from South George Island.

“The air force has reached its designated location and has located the target,” Ralph replied. “Begin escort operations.”

To avoid the battlefield between the Victory Team and the Machine Island creations, the transport ships departing from South George Island abandoned the most commonly used Pacific route and instead sailed via the Atlantic. The plan was to first transport the personnel to the European branch, and then arrange for their distribution and custody.

"What 'unusual activity' is happening at this crucial moment? Are they doing it on purpose?" Watanabe Yota's voice came through the channel: "By the time we escort them back, the battle should be over!"

“If you want to go back and hold us back, I’ll write a report right now to have you transferred to the South American branch to refuel and then return to headquarters. Headquarters will then stuff you into a cannon and shoot you into the head of a metal man from the mechanical civilization.” Ralph pushed the control stick, and the plane tilted and turned, the “black dot” slowly moving forward on the sea gradually revealing a clear outline.

The Coast Guard vessels led the way, followed by tugboats, large cargo ships, and several destroyers. Ralph believed there were other "big fish" underwater, and the Dolphin 202 might be silently watching them.

"The visibility in the sky is so good it's enviable." After a series of buzzing noises, it was indeed a communication from Dolphin 202. The Coast Guard had been on edge all the way across half the Atlantic Ocean, and now that they saw their colleagues, they could finally relax.

"Our route has changed. We're not going to Iberia anymore; we'll stop in Iceland for a rest," said the people on Dolphin 202. "We need your help to scout the way... We're not sure if the mechanical civilization will extend the bathhouse from the Pacific to the North Atlantic."

“I knew you’d change your plans,” Ralph laughed. “Iceland is a great place; we can treat the crew to stinky shark meat.”

"...You guys in the air force will never bring normal food to your brothers in other departments!" If Dolphin 202 were actually alive, it would probably be angrily letting out a high-pitched dolphin-like cry right now: "I have a good memory! You brought shark meat once! Don't even think about it coming a second time!"

The deep-sea currents were like an unshakeable giant machine, and Dolphin 202 was swirling and rocking inside. The creaking sound of metal under pressure made one think that the whole world was locked inside a clock.

The connection with the outside world broke the "bell," and appropriate banter helped relax the overly tense nerves. The members of the Coast Guard felt their hands and eyes, which had been mechanically performing actions, gradually come to life, and even their field of vision seemed to broaden.

But as it turns out, the so-called vastness was just an illusion.

"Hey, have you guys seen anything? Sonar? Laser?" The voice on the channel was incoherent; it was Yang Tai calling out to Dolphin 202, which had been diving to an unknown depth: "There seems to be... a very large shadow..."

He didn't know how to describe it.

This is something that can only be discovered from a high enough vantage point, just as you can never see the true shape of a mountain if you stand in its shadow.

Dolphin 202 and the entire transport fleet were in the shadow of this mountain. Looking down from TPC-β, it looked as if a sea monster was gliding in the water, its back bulging high, with small, sharp parts protruding above the water, which became the ships of the transport fleet.

Yang Tai's anxious shouts echoed in the cabin of Dolphin 202: "Run! It's about to surface!"

Who knows what the creature in the sky saw? The light and shadow even detected it before the sonar, which means that its size was larger than imagined.

Dolphin 202 accelerated forward, and the surface ships also received the emergency communication, but the response was too slow - from the perspective of the air force, the transport ship's speed had only increased from a tortoise crawl to a tortoise run.

"Stop spacing out, we're not kidding!" Ralph maneuvered the β around in a circle, and Yota, sitting in the back seat, craned his neck to look down, holding the walkie-talkie in his hand—the scene below looked like a whale about to flip over, with the small sampan right on the whale's back.

The 10,000-ton transport ship looked like a small sampan in this shadow. Its only hope was to run away as fast as it could, but these sampans were small and sluggish, and it took a long time for a response to come from them.

"Received, we are at... buzzing... urgent..."

"What's the rush? Hey?!" Yang Tai almost embedded his helmet into the bulkhead. The sudden change stunned him. The transport ship's speed dropped visibly, a plume of black smoke billowed from the side, and flames could be vaguely seen.

The firelight didn't just come from the ship.

Yang Tai slightly turned his eyes and, following the direction the fleet came from, could see the scene hundreds of nautical miles away: the horizon, the South Atlantic Ocean at the end, and further away, South George Island and the world of glaciers.

The sky there was a deep red.

The dark, blood-scarred thing slowly rose into the air, and wherever it passed, it was like red ink dripping into clear water. The setting sun turned blood red, and the entire southern sky seemed to be on fire.

Chapter 186 Red Glow (5k)

"TPC is actually very trustworthy, at least when it comes to disaster predictions, they never lie."

got windy.