The Gray Port of Gōng Yāo was destined for unrest. Yang Ying initiated wide-ranging communications jamming an hour before the main force arrived.

A Protoss Observer perpetually patrolled the skies around Gray Port, silently making its rounds. This Observer had undergone meticulous modifications at a Protoss robotic factory, equipped with advanced and effective gear.

In truth, Protoss technology far surpassed that of the Terrans. This Observer, beyond monitoring the ships entering and leaving Gray Port, possessed even more sophisticated functions; the jamming waves it emitted could sever contact signals across a vast expanse of airspace.

New models of warships produced in the Sol system featured similar technology, but the depth and breadth of the jamming could not compare to the Protoss capabilities.

“Boss, bad news! Something major is happening!” A pirate burst into Herman’s office, gasping for breath.

Herman, leaning on a cane and observing with cold eyes, felt a surge of sorrow. Once, he had been so glorious, so utterly arrogant. Except when pandering to a few pirate lords, whom had he ever feared?

In Gray Port, he, Lord Herman, had always spoken with the tone of a superior, bestowing even a death sentence as if it were a favor. He was like the emperors of centuries past.

Now, the mighty tree supporting him had suddenly found itself in trouble, and even a mere subordinate dared to lose composure in front of him.

“My authority is completely lost, Yang Ying. The Trani Corps, you are the culprits. Once I recover from this, I will make sure you never see peace again!” This thought flowed slowly through Herman’s mind, his face instantly contorting into a savage mask. He slammed his cane heavily onto the floor and cursed at his subordinate, “You idiot, why are you yelling like your parents just died?! Get out and try again!”

“Huh?”

Herman’s residual dominance still had an effect. The pirate paused, then turned and rushed out of the room, shutting the door—only to immediately reopen it and re-enter, speaking in a calmer tone. “Boss, it’s chaos outside!”

“Chaos? What happened to make it chaotic?” A bad premonition welled up in Herman’s heart.

“Because the communications are down! None of the communicators are working!” The pirate spread his hands, a hint of panic in his voice.

The signal on the communicators was usually rock-solid; malfunctions were rare under normal circumstances. A few individual units breaking down was possible, but a total failure implied powerful signal interference. Only the most advanced capital ships carried such potent jamming equipment.

“What!” Herman finally grasped the severity of the situation. He pulled a communicator from his waist, activated it, and dialed by voice: “Connect me to Eisen.”

Eisen was one of his chief lieutenants, commanding a thousand men, fearless in battle, and fiercely loyal.

The screen showed nothing but static, with the words “NO SIGNAL” displayed in the center.

“Connect me to Ralph!” That was another major general.

The screen still showed “NO SIGNAL.”

Herman’s face changed drastically. He tossed the communicator onto the desk and demanded of his subordinate, “How wide is the range of this communication failure?”

“That…” the pirate hesitated. “After the link broke, we haven’t received any messages from other strongholds in the city either. We sent people to check; all known communication points are dead silent.”

Herman listened, paced a few steps, and suddenly thought of something. He turned back. “Then try the computer network. Even the strongest interference can only disrupt radio waves; it shouldn't affect physical network cables.”

“There’s a virus spreading across the network; the entire computer system is paralyzed,” the pirate lamented, face ashen.

This computer virus was, of course, released by Yang Ying. Under Kevin’s manipulation, the firewalls on Gray Port’s computers were like paper.

“This is definitely a premeditated attack. Go quickly and assemble the men! Fully armed, maintain maximum vigilance!” Herman pointed toward the door. “Go!”

“Yes!” The pirate bolted out.

The same situation was unfolding across all factions in Gray Port. Mercenary groups and pirate clans alike viewed this communication outage with extreme suspicion.

Meanwhile, the forces dispatched from the Gray Port Operations Office were marching down the main streets.

Leading the way were two squadrons of Sapper Vehicles. These motorcycles utilized the currently popular magnetic levitation technology, armed with a grenade launcher mounted on the front, and capable of deploying Spider Mines from the rear. These mines were incredibly destructive, though each motorcycle carried only three and required replenishment afterward.

The Sapper Vehicles formed two columns, twelve vehicles per column, ordering all traffic on the road to immediately clear the way for the main body.

Following them were two lines of massive Goliaths, forming a single combat unit, stepping heavily behind the Sappers.

Further back trailed squads of fully armed Machine Gunners and Flamethrower Troops. Wheels extended from the bottom of their Power Armor, and several vents hissed open near their armpits and thighs, maintaining precise, consistent spacing between units as they followed closely behind the Goliaths.

Bringing up the rear was a formation of tanks. Because Gray Port’s streets were quite narrow, the tanks could only advance single file, resulting in a line stretching over a hundred meters long. To prevent anyone from getting close enough to the tanks to attempt sabotage, additional Machine Gunners marched alongside them.

Whether Sapper Vehicles, Goliaths, infantry, or tanks, all units moved at the exact same speed, and the distance between consecutive units in the formation was perfectly uniform, showcasing powerful discipline and coordination.

As this formation marched down the street, an aura of irresistible might permeated the atmosphere.

Bystanders seeing the troops pass immediately chose to evade. They felt a chilling murderous intent emanating from the unit that made the hairs on their necks stand up, daring not to show themselves.

From windows on the nearby buildings, a few small boys watched the procession with envious eyes, dreaming of joining an army this well-equipped one day.

At several street corners, scouts from various factions frantically tapped their communicators, but only received the 'no signal' prompt. They were utterly unable to transmit news of the Trani Mercenary Group’s advance, forced instead to resort to the most primitive method: running on foot to report back to their bosses, wasting precious time in the process.

The destination of the march was Gray Port Plaza Number Two, or Port Two Plaza for short. It spanned fifty-five thousand square meters and provided access to five of the port sectors, specifically Six through Ten.

The plaza offered clear sightlines, with no obstructions apart from a few hundred square meters of artificial greenery in the center—a layout typical of terrain that was easy to attack and difficult to defend.

The troops roared into the plaza and halted, immediately deploying into combat formations designed to maximize their offensive power.

Robin was guest-starring this time as a Sapper Vehicle driver, leading the contingent into Port Two Plaza. As a Ghost Operative, Robin was proficient with all manner of weaponry; commanding a Goliath or piloting a Wraith fighter posed no issue, and he could even manage a bulldozer if necessary.

Travelers moving through the plaza, seeing such a well-equipped force arranging itself into an attack posture, first froze in shock, then let out screams and scattered to avoid the area.

Robin took out a loudspeaker and shouted, “Do not panic! We will not initiate an attack for the next five minutes. Travelers in the plaza, please remain calm and watch your step to avoid stampedes.”

Fortunately, due to recent news reports about the Ancient Legion’s battles in the asteroid belt, the number of travelers visiting the belt had significantly decreased. The plaza was large, and the people were not tightly packed. Although many fell in their haste, they quickly got back up and continued fleeing.

The security detachment patrolling the plaza was utterly petrified by this sudden development.

They were neither mercenaries nor pirates. They usually just handled petty security work and skimmed a little off the travelers. When had they ever faced a force like this?

The small squad leader yelled to his subordinates, “Communications are down! You immediately go report this to the Captain!”

Upon hearing this, the subordinate’s tense expression instantly relaxed. He spun on his heel and bolted toward the port entrance, while his comrades watched his retreating back with eyes full of jealousy.

Five minutes later, the deployment was complete. The force split into five divisions, ensuring each of the five ports was covered.

Robin waved his hand. “Charge!”

Instantly, the five detachments roared to full speed, sweeping rapidly from one side of the plaza to the other, closing in on the entrances of the five respective ports.

Speed was crucial, and Robin decided to crush the security teams in the ports with overwhelming force.

There was little time left before the main force arrived at Gray Port, which was precisely why the action had been delayed until this very moment—to minimize the reaction time available to Gray Port’s various factions.

Just as a security officer raised his kinetic rifle, a colleague snatched it away and landed a couple of punches on him. The squad leader slapped him directly across the face. “You imbecile! If you want to die, don’t drag us with you! This force is not something we can handle! What are we holding? Standard Uranium Rifles? And what are they? Power-Armored Infantry and an armored column! Even if we stood still and fired, our firepower would only be an itch to them.”

As he spoke, Robin’s troops had already reached them. A few Machine Gunners pointed Gauss rifles at the security personnel, who immediately dropped their Uranium Rifles and raised their hands high.

Robin was satisfied and asked, “Who is in charge here?”

“Him!” Everyone pointed at the small squad leader.

The squad leader cursed his disloyal men inwardly, but forced a smile onto his face and asked, “What are your orders, Officer?”

“Did you report our arrival to the port commander?” Robin stared directly into the squad leader’s eyes.

The squad leader’s heart sank. Damn it! Sending someone to report—I’m probably going to suffer for this now.

Robin saw his hesitation and the expressions of the surrounding guards, understanding immediately. “It doesn't matter if you reported it; it will just cause a little more trouble.” He turned back and called out, “Gather them up and watch them.”

Hundreds of travelers who hadn't managed to flee stood in the port, watching with timid, fearful eyes.

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