Due to the oil slick fire and the earthquake, many hotel guests assumed a serious incident had occurred and dared not stay any longer; some even fled their rooms wearing only their nightclothes beneath an outer coat.

No natural quakes could ever happen in the Space City; any person of sound mind would realize that instantly. This event was clearly manufactured.

The recent memory of the Ancient Legion’s assault on Kussen was still fresh, and since Bosk, like Kussen, was a major tourist hub, it naturally stirred up terrible associations and triggered widespread panic.

People frightened themselves, and rumors flew rampant; the majority claimed the Ancient Legion was attacking, while a smaller contingent blamed terrorists.

This was the scene Yang Ying witnessed on his way from his room to the hotel lobby.

In the hotel lobby, Yang Ying and his group waited for the Kussen delegation.

To save time, the delegation split into two groups: the Mayor and the administrative staff, whose physical condition was weaker, took the elevators down, while the Legion members, who were physically fitter, took the stairs. However, too many people were descending, making both stairs and elevators congested, so gathering the entire delegation in the lobby still consumed a considerable amount of time.

"Little brother, you didn't bring many people this time, yet you managed to cause such a stir," Commander Bacchus exclaimed when he saw that Yang Ying’s entourage amounted to only a dozen or so people. As the head of a large mercenary group, Bacchus concealed a cautious nature beneath his rough exterior. Though they were in public, any irrelevant onlookers would hear his words and have no clue what he was truly implying.

"Some things aren't accomplished by having more people."

Yang Ying replied in kind, using language only the relevant parties could decipher, as if he had truly infiltrated the heavily guarded military port with only the few companions he had by his side.

The two groups merged into one and exited the hotel doors.

Yang Ying lagged slightly behind, keeping to the rear of the procession. Christina drew close and whispered into Yang Ying's ear, "Our transport is still a little way off, but thankfully, there's enough space; fitting a dozen extra people shouldn't be an issue."

With nearly a hundred members in the Kussen delegation plus Yang Ying’s dozen or so, the required transport vehicle would necessarily be quite large.

"What about Le Hai's bald man? Any news?" Yang Ying asked as they walked.

Le Hai's bald man had been subdued, but if he had been taken hostage or killed by Bosk this time, Yang Ying’s significant effort would have been in vain, perhaps forcing him to start all over again with Le Hai's new leader.

"Le Hai's bald man just contacted my father, asking if we were the ones who blew up the Bosk armory. Father didn't say much, just told him to retreat quickly if he didn't want to die. He must have sensed something too, and he won't dawdle." Christina understood why Yang Ying was asking and displayed a knowing expression.

By now, the streets were gradually filling with panicked crowds, obstructing the delegation’s path.

With several tall bodyguards clearing the way, the delegation finally broke through the throng, passed through a small alley, and reached another quieter side street, where fewer people were gathered, most having congregated on the main avenues outside.

A dark gray double-decker maglev bus was parked at the end of the street. It had two fully enclosed levels, neither open-air, each capable of holding nearly a hundred passengers—enough to carry the entire delegation and Yang Ying's group.

Currently, the driver's seat was empty, and the doors and windows were sealed shut; the entire vehicle sat silently...

"It took us quite a bit of effort to arrange this maglev bus here." Commander Bacchus glossed over the specific process with that single statement, but Yang Ying could guess the reality was far from simple.

This wasn't Kussen; arranging such an escape route in Bosk’s home territory meant someone absolutely powerful within the Bosk internal structure must have been involved. The specifics were clearly not explainable in one sentence, but Yang Ying suspected that the spies Kussen had planted within the Bosk Guard Corps had played a crucial role.

"Five..."

This was the foundation of a veteran major mercenary group, utilizing intelligence networks built over decades to find allies everywhere they went.

This was precisely what the nascent Tran Mercenary Group lacked most.

Once everyone boarded, the administrative staff crowded onto the lower level, and the Kussen soldiers assigned to protect them stayed there; the rest proceeded to the upper level.

When the vehicle started, it lifted a meter off the ground, pivoted, and headed toward the civilian port in the east of the city.

The driver was one of the Kussen Legion’s top experts, possessing superb skill. Under his control, the bus navigated obscure, narrow lanes, some so tight they were barely wider than the bus itself—perhaps only a meter wider. Normally, such narrow paths would never see bus traffic, as a slight miscalculation could scrape the vehicle’s side against a wall, but under this driver’s hand, that never happened.

The vehicle’s headlights blazed, illuminating the path ahead as if it were daylight. Occasionally, a few people wandering in the narrow paths were blinded by the intense light and instinctively bent over, yielding way for the bus.

That was the advantage of a maglev vehicle; they could simply bend down to avoid impact, ensuring no one was run over.

After the vehicle drove for a while, Yang Ying felt a sudden shift: "Time's up!"

Instantly, a brilliant white light flashed overhead. If one looked closely, they could discern two distinct light sources, one large and one small, originating from not far away in the space above them.

"That's the detonation signature of two cruisers! There's no doubt about it; only the simultaneous explosive failure of all weaponry aboard two cruisers could produce such intense light. Haha! The Bosk fleet is finished!" Commander Bacchus rejoiced, jumping up and down like a child.

"Yeah!" A burst of cheers erupted inside the vehicle.

It wasn't just two cruisers; judging by the scale of the explosion, even the smaller destroyers or frigates nearby wouldn't escape unscathed. It could be said that the Bosk fleet, as a major naval force, had just been erased from history.

At the Bosk Guard Corps Headquarters, in the Commander-in-Chief's office, General Pollson sat rigidly before his command desk, clad in his full uniform, his expression severe. His white hair and wrinkled face belied his sharp, focused spirit; his ruddy complexion indicated excellent physical and mental health.

He was currently using the communicator to query all departments regarding the armory losses. When he learned that every single armored vehicle of the ground forces had been destroyed, his brow furrowed like a knot of wood.

Just then, the window suddenly flooded with light, ten times brighter than the lightning from their artificial storms. Yet, General Pollson instantly felt a terrible premonition—light of this magnitude wasn't something seen at night unless there was a massive energy discharge.

Soon after, his aide entered, his face ashen, lips tightly pressed, his eyes twitching, clearly struggling to contain profound grief.

"What is it? Speak quickly!" Pollson stared intently at his aide, prepared to receive any negative news.

"General, they're gone. Our two cruisers are gone," the aide choked out, seemingly heartbroken.

"What! Say that again!" Pollson roared in fury; this piece of news exceeded his capacity to accept—

"Our two cruisers are gone!" The aide dissolved into wrenching sobs. For a full-grown man, seven feet tall and rigorously military-trained, to weep like this demonstrated the sheer shock this news delivered to the Bosk Guard Corps.

"Ah!" Pollson slammed his fist onto the command desk. Amidst the loud bang, a faint crack sound followed; he had shattered his own desk with a single punch!

"It must be Kussen! Only they would do something like this! Dispatch troops to surround their hotel—I want them all dead!" General Pollson snarled, his face twisted with rage.