The military port and the civilian port were strictly separated, the two situated leagues apart, seemingly cleaved by the city itself—one on one side, the other on the opposite. Any incoming vessel, be it warship, passenger liner, or freighter, used the civilian harbor. Only the battleships of the Bos Guard Corps were moored within the naval docks.

In truth, the Bos Guard Corps valued their fleet far more than Kussen did. General Paulson, the Corps Commander, had repeatedly declared in public that the battleships were his very lifeblood; consequently, the Corps spared no effort in maintaining and guarding their fleet. Arriving at the military port, Yang Ying found the security ten times tighter than at the armory, even on the periphery.

Patrols followed one after the other in relentless waves, and the number of guard dogs was substantial. Many concealed spots were riddled with various alarms; a single misstep could trigger a cascade. General Paulson’s fervor for his warships had infected the soldiers of the Bos Guard Corps.

The patrolmen here maintained expressions of sharp focus and vigilance, their movements flawless. “They must have heard that tomorrow is a big day. While the Bos high command might not have divulged the specifics to the lower ranks, they likely issued orders to tighten security tonight, otherwise, why would things be this tense?” Yang Ying was perched on the roof of a three-story structure in the distance, wearing the tactical goggles favored by the Ghost Agents.

These goggles could massively magnify distant images, allowing him to read the lettering on the nameplates displayed on the soldiers’ chests. Furthermore, the light paths of many ray-based alarms invisible to the naked eye were rendered visible before him—an essential tool for any clandestine infiltration. There were no tall buildings near the military port, a deliberate precaution to prevent anyone from gaining an elevated vantage point to survey the harbor’s defensive layout.

The structure Yang Ying occupied was already among the highest in the vicinity. “This elevation isn't ideal, meaning I can only gather limited intelligence here. But it’s enough.

While these guards are meticulous, they aren't psychologically prepared for an aerial intrusion. I’ve watched for ten minutes, and not one person has looked up, save for one yawning guard.” Having analyzed the port’s defenses, Yang Ying summoned the cloaked Ghost Fighter from its retracted cradle and phased his own body into invisibility, leaping onto the fuselage just behind the cockpit. “Go, straight there,” he instructed the pilot.

A shimmering distortion rose into the night sky over Bos Space City, resembling a mass of congealed air. Raindrops struck it, instantly deflected, sliding down along the contours of the distortion’s edge. Frankly, Yang Ying preferred not to employ invisibility in the rain if he could avoid it.

In these conditions, any normal observer would immediately recognize the distortion as an advanced cloaking technology. Although this method of infiltration bypassed the gaze of the majority, who could guarantee that someone hadn't happened to glance upward at a crucial moment while yawning? If they could ascend above three hundred meters, it would be less of a concern.

But the Space City was a sealed environment, capped by a barrier, limiting the practical altitude to barely over a hundred meters. Under these constraints, the probability of detection had to be factored in. Fortunately, throughout the entire infiltration process, the guards in the port remained rigidly focused downward, missing any anomaly in the heavens above.

The distortion settled onto the roof of the port’s command tower. The plaza below offered virtually no blind spots. Although a few sentries stood watch on the roof, their gaze remained fixed on the plaza, their alertness to aerial incursions notably low.

Yang Ying seized an unguarded moment to slip silently into the building. First, he used his telekinetic ability to gently warm the moisture clinging to him, drying his suit. Then, he summoned two squads of invisible Ghost Agents, briefed them on the current situation, and commanded: “Disperse.

Locate the positions of two capital ships and establish contact with me immediately. Avoid engaging personnel inside the building unless absolutely necessary.” This port tower was constructed for military application. To complicate matters for any enemy capturing it, the internal corridors were arranged like a labyrinth, making navigation exceptionally difficult for first-time visitors.

However, having twenty-four Ghost Agents made the task considerably easier. About fifteen minutes after they began their sweep, two messages arrived almost simultaneously. “Sir, there is a passage on the north side of the second floor leading to the berth of a light cruiser.” “Sir, there is a passage on the west side of the ground floor leading to the berth of a heavy cruiser.” The concept of cardinal directions existed in the Space City, though it was artificially imposed.

By placing two artificial magnetic poles at opposite ends of the city, those points were defined as South and North, allowing inhabitants to use compasses for orientation within the city structure. Yang Ying descended the stairs, simultaneously broadcasting orders through his comms: “First Squad, rendezvous with me at the ground floor west passage entrance. We are boarding the heavy cruiser.

Second Squad, meet at the second-floor north passage entrance and proceed directly to the light cruiser for demolition duty! Set the detonation time for precisely one and a half hours after the armory explosion.” The port tower had five floors, each layout differing from the others, and the stairwells were scattered inconveniently. To guide his allies, the Ghost Agents marked the walls with special ink carried on their persons.

This ink was invisible to the naked eye but fluoresced brightly when viewed through the tactical goggles. Moreover, the ink would decompose naturally after one hour, leaving no trace behind. Unlike the armory, the port tower housed permanent duty personnel and lacked intricate traps.

Furthermore, with no rain to obscure vision indoors, the advantage of invisibility was fully realized. Infiltrating this location proved easier for Yang Ying than the armory had been. Occasionally, uniformed officers of the Bos Guard Corps paced the corridors, but Yang Ying detected them from twenty meters away, even with his eyes closed.

Invisibility was overwhelmingly effective; he felt like a mere volume of air, distorting light around him. The sound-absorbing material beneath his boots ensured his footsteps made no noise. He could stride past others without any concern of being discovered.

Yang Ying met his Ghost Agents at the ground floor passage entrance. The group moved through the conduit to the port’s exterior berth. There rested a massive warship, approximately three hundred meters in length, moored to the dock.

The ship’s hull was sharply angular, roughly rectangular in design. Extending from the bow were two long gun barrels—the telltale sign of a Level Five Uranium Cannon, the main armament of a heavy cruiser. A direct hit from this weapon could reduce a mid-sized Dragon-class frigate to cosmic debris.

In addition to its primary weaponry, the hull was studded with over ten Level Three cannons, sufficient to engage standard small and medium warships, plus over a hundred Level One rapid-fire guns, and more than ten rows of covered missile silos. At full engagement, the cruiser could launch several hundred missiles, primarily for defense against fighter attacks. Moreover, the heavy cruiser itself could carry over a hundred carrier-based aircraft.

This formidable armament configuration meant the heavy cruiser could handle nearly any complex operational environment; it could fight what it could defeat and escape what it could not. The assessment by Lehai's bald commander that the entire Kussen fleet could not overcome a single heavy cruiser was not an exaggeration. I am aware that the word count for this chapter is relatively low, and I will strive to improve it.

I ask my readers for some time; I promise to increase the daily word count before the end of next month. And there is one more thing—I call upon the monthly tickets!