Happy New Year! Wishing everyone a happy and prosperous New Year, a fulfilling life filled with abundance, and success!

The very essence of invulnerability, it turns out, lies in the ability to strike your enemy while remaining utterly untouchable yourself.

Yang Ying had long maintained the conviction that the power of invisibility was unbeatable within the solar system, because the moment one entered a cloaked state, all existing reconnaissance technology in the solar system simply ceased to function.

Weapon targeting systems, radar arrays, the naked eye, or any other method of information gathering were rendered completely incapable of detecting the presence of the Ghost Fighters. This meant the Ghost Fighters could linger in the void, launching attacks against the enemy while the enemy remained utterly incapable of retaliation.

In reality, this tactical concept was far from new. The armies of the Terrestrial Coalition had long harbored the ambition to develop stealth combat units; stealth fighters and stealth warships had gone through generation after generation of evolution. Some could evade radar detection; others could break weapon locks.

At the current stage, Earth's military had managed to develop an optical camouflage film that achieved complete invisibility when the object remained stationary, capable of bypassing all radar, infrared, visual, and every other detection method.

However, this only applied when stationary.

The moment movement began, the inherent drawback of a cloaked object failing to synchronize with ambient light would manifest; the faster the object moved, the more pronounced this incongruity became.

Yet, the capability to shrug off radar and weapon system locks still endowed this semi-finished optical camouflage film with practical value. The military had bestowed upon it a succession of titles, such as "A Revolutionary Invention That Changes the Face of Warfare." Even the staggering production cost of one hundred million per square meter failed to deter certain cutting-edge research departments.

The optical camouflage technology in Yang Ying’s possession was vastly superior to this half-finished version. This was why he possessed such confidence that a force composed entirely of Ghost Fighters could annihilate the entire fleet gathered outside Gray Port.

On the current battlefield, the Ghost Fighters remained entirely hidden within the void, unleashing a volley of fatal missiles. They executed four waves of attacks within a mere thirty seconds.

Eventually, several landing craft recognized that something was terribly wrong. That terrifying atmosphere of the unseen and untouchable crushed the combat will of the pilots. They instantly slammed their rudders over, spinning around and fleeing for their lives.

It was, unfortunately, too late. The landing craft were, at best, only half as fast as the fighters, and even slower compared to the missiles.

After calmly eliminating all their primary targets, the Ghost Fighters easily caught up to the few fleeing landing craft and sent them on their way with a single missile each.

The complete annihilation of the landing force sent shockwaves rippling through the major powers. The public channels fell silent for a beat, before erupting like a torrential flood. An atmosphere akin to an impending storm—the calm before the deluge—began to settle in everyone’s hearts.

On the bridge, Yang Ying watched the destruction of the landing craft unit and was highly satisfied with the efficiency of the Ghost Fighters. He nodded once, noticing the communications officer frozen in a daze. “Patch me through to Quentin?”

“Yes, Sir,” the communications officer snapped back to attention from his battlefield trance, tapping a few keys on the console. Quentin’s face materialized on the screen; his expression was serious yet retained a certain resilience, projecting an aura of dependable competence.

Yang Ying inquired, “Are all the Ghost Fighters sent out previously in position?”

“They are in place, Sir. Our seventy-five squadrons of Ghost Fighters are already woven into the encirclement. No one has detected us yet,” Quentin reported.

“Excellent!” Yang Ying stated. “Each squadron select its target. While they are still clustered together, this is the perfect opportunity to eliminate them all. Our strength is too terrifying; we must maintain absolute secrecy. Therefore, we cannot allow a single person to escape this battlefield. Attack! Let us end this swiftly!”

“Yes, Sir.” Quentin acknowledged, then boomed over the channel, “Did you hear that, brothers? The Commander orders us to leave no enemy behind. Prepare to engage!”

Silently, the Ghost Fighters dispersed, each seeking out its designated target.

Within the Blood Skull Pirate Clan, Old Barrow’s eyes were wide, fixed intensely on his radar screen. In a single instant, massive signal readings had vanished entirely, driving him to the brink of madness.

“Can anyone tell this old man what the hell just happened?” Old Barrow roared in fury. “Where are our enemies?!”

The bridge was shrouded in silence; no one offered a reply.

“Idiots! All of you are useless!” Barrow exploded in anger, turning to his staff officer. “Is communications still down?”

“Still nothing, Sir. We can’t receive a single signal. The enemy jamming is incredibly powerful,” the staff officer reported. He had already exhausted every available countermeasure: boosting signals, switching frequencies, activating anti-jamming systems—all to no avail.

Just like that other time, Old Barrow recalled with grim resignation, thinking back to the ambush battle from before.

Back then, the combined fleet of Somalia and the Killers-Who-Break-Wolves had used jamming waves to open the engagement, instantly rendering his forces leaderless.

Then the colossal fleet had advanced on his armada, an overwhelming, crushing tide that immediately seized the absolute advantage.

He could only watch helplessly as the signals of ship after ship winked out on his radar screen. Without contact, every vessel had no choice but to flee independently, becoming easy prey for the unified command of the Coalition fleet, which systematically focused fire to destroy them one by one.

His flagship, naturally, was the prime target and received the most attention.

If it hadn't been for the most advanced optical camouflage film applied to his escape pod, allowing it to evade radar searches, he would have perished in that engagement.

For the ancient Barrow, spending the price equivalent to an old heavy cruiser for a small escape route had proven immensely worthwhile.

“Optical camouflage? That’s it! They must be deploying optical camouflage on a massive scale! There is no large warship showing up on the radar that could emit those jamming waves—could they be cloaking even their massive vessels? Are they intending to fight an invisibility war against us?” On the flagship of the Giant Mercenary Group, Isaac’s expression shifted between dark and grim.

“Stealth equipment is prohibitively expensive, that seems unlikely,” offered the man dressed as a scholar.

“I fear they have found a way to cut costs,” Isaac slammed a fist onto the control panel. “We underestimated them again. Gray Port was likely just bait set by Yang Ying to lure us in.”

“Commander Isaac, what do we do?”

Isaac pondered for a moment. “Use the lights to transmit Morse code. Order a full retreat. Pressing this engagement is utter folly.”

“Dying at the hands of an unseen enemy—this is truly no way for a gentleman to perish,” Three-Eyes muttered to his subordinates. “We’re pulling out, fast.”

By now, the realization that it was too late to retreat had dawned. Since Yang Ying had decided to deploy the Ghost Fighters, he would not permit anyone who had witnessed their cloaked state to remain alive. Regardless of what thoughts occupied the minds of the various faction leaders, the Ghost Fighters initiated their attack.

Eighteen hundred missiles suddenly appeared, striking the propulsion systems of over three hundred warships, large and small, almost simultaneously.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

In a mere five or six seconds, a riotously blooming, magnificent pattern erupted in the void.

A continuous, violent series of explosions roared from the sterns of the warships. The flash of the detonations was so blindingly brilliant it outshone the starlight by hundreds of times!

The sight of hundreds of ships exploding concurrently was simply beyond description—like firecrackers set off against the backdrop of the cosmos. In short, it was a spectacle unseen and unheard of.

Under such an assault, the small and medium-sized warships simply could not withstand the blast. A missile entering the engine core instantly triggered a chain reaction, detonating the reactor.

All three hundred-plus medium and small warships were annihilated in this single wave of attack; not a single vessel survived.

However, some of the medium-sized ships managed to launch their escape pods before the explosions fully engulfed them, and a handful of the carrier-borne aircraft pilots successfully ejected before their ships were lost.

What an astonishing strike!

The larger warships possessed far greater resilience against impact. Moreover, large ships were often the primary targets for enemy aircraft, meaning they were equipped with specialized shielding over the vulnerable engine sections to prevent attack penetration. The instant a propulsion unit was hit, the connection to the reactor was severed.

On the mercenary side of the battlefield, there were four heavy cruisers and two light cruisers remaining. On the pirate side, there was one heavy cruiser and five light cruisers. These twelve cruisers were still afloat, but all were paralyzed.

Every single one of these twelve cruisers had endured a concentrated bombardment of over fifty missiles each. All strikes were focused on the sterns; their engines were spewing torrents of fire, and it would likely take months of major overhaul in a shipyard to make them operational again.

But the assault was not yet over.

Before the brilliant floral pattern of explosions had fully dissipated, the Ghost Fighters immediately launched their second wave.

They organized themselves into squadron units and flew low over the armor plating of the twelve surviving cruisers, their target fixed squarely on the bridges.

The cruisers’ armor plating was riddled with dense point-defense turret guns, firing energy bolts of only level one or level two—designed specifically to neutralize approaching fighters.

For ordinary fighters, this area was a death zone. But for the invisible Ghost Fighters, it was mere triviality; they needed pay it no mind.

The fighter squadrons approaching the forward section of the bridges simultaneously unleashed their missiles. Twenty-four missiles streaked across the void in a perfect line, striking the command bridges all at once!

Violent explosions and brilliant fire enveloped each bridge entirely, the searing heat capable of melting steel! Shrapnel scattered outward at ultra-high velocity, sweeping across the entire space in less than one-hundredth of a second, creating a metal storm of death everywhere.

Under such overwhelming attack, it was impossible for a single person inside the bridge to survive, even those psionicists whose bodies were naturally superior could not withstand such an assault before reaching the Master realm.

Just as the tactic dictated, the bridges of all twelve cruisers were systematically obliterated in sequence.

Yet, the ordeal was far from concluded. The pirates and mercenaries aboard the cruisers began launching escape pods, preparing to abandon ship. The lower hangar bay doors also swung open, and hundreds of carrier-borne fighters swarmed out.

A light cruiser could typically carry fifty fighters, while a heavy cruiser could accommodate over one hundred. The combined complement of the twelve cruisers rivaled the total number of Ghost Fighters.

Not to mention the hundreds of escape pods.

These surviving mercenaries or pirates were likely regretting ever becoming entangled in this mess. Why had they chosen to oppose the Teran Mercenary Group?

Alas, there is no medicine for regret in this world. Since they had chosen to participate in the siege of Gray Port, and Yang Ying had initiated his move, it was now impossible to halt the plan and grant them quarter, even if he wished to.

There is much happening related to the New Year, so the first chapter tomorrow may not be updated until the afternoon. I ask all readers for their patience.