Star Rank Hunter

Chapter 409: Red Sector

Not long after the Eight Great Legions mobilized in full force to capture another batch of high-ranking Miracle executives, the captives died en masse. Ten galactic days later, over twenty star sectors across the GAL reported epidemic outbreaks.

If it were confined to a single star sector, it could be dismissed as a standard outbreak. However, this time, epidemics erupted simultaneously across over twenty sectors in the GAL. Once the outbreaks began, they spread at an astonishing rate, and the death tolls reported from the various sectors were now skyrocketing.

Every star sector possessed both active planets and relatively quiet ones. This time, the first planets to suffer outbreaks in each sector were mostly local transit hubs. Even if they weren’t, they were always planets with high human traffic.

Acting as massive sources of infection, these worlds caused the sick to hurriedly flee, carrying the virus to other planets. From there, the vicious cycle began anew.

Destroying a planet required nothing more than a single Dream Tapir. Now, there were at least twenty Dream Tapirs scattered throughout the GAL, including the A, B, and C Star Sectors.

Outbreaks were also discovered within the respective jurisdictions of the Eight Great Legions. Although these weren’t transit hubs or highly valued planets—mostly situated in fringe regions—they were still territories under their command. These planets housed their legion’s soldiers, fighters, and other personnel. At a time like this, completely abandoning them was impossible.

Morale could not be allowed to drop. No one could give up right at the start. Just as the politicians were currently doing, they had to rally the people to resist and take action. If the soldiers were allowed to feel despair early on, all subsequent operations would veer off the eight marshals’ plans.

After receiving the news, Cillin contacted Eudy to check on the 11th Team’s current situation. Just as Cillin had expected, because Pango was there, Ji Feng kept the 11th Team close by. Not long ago, they had cooperated with Blue Butterfly to wipe out a detachment from the Heaven of Ascendant Life, assassinating a number of its higher-ups.

According to the intelligence Cillin obtained from Yin Wushe, Ji Feng and Blue Butterfly were currently preparing to join forces and assassinate the leader of the Heaven of Ascendant Life, Blumar. Blumar likely never imagined that during such a crisis, Ji Feng and Blue Butterfly would still be plotting an extermination operation.

Ji Feng was nowhere near as straightforward as he appeared; Cillin knew this well. The man had many hidden cards to play. Furthermore, during the previous assassination attempt, Cillin suspected Ji Feng had deliberately made himself appear grievously injured. Perhaps Ji Feng had already begun his preparations back then.

Since Ji Feng was confident, Cillin wasn’t interested in whether or not Blumar was killed. Without their commander at a time like this, the Heaven of Ascendant Life would undoubtedly fracture. It was inevitable. Ji Feng and Blue Butterfly were simply using the Dream Tapir crisis to strike the Heaven of Ascendant Life from the ranks of the Great Four. While everyone else was busy fleeing for their lives in search of a safe haven, they were busy turning the Great Four into a Great Three. Striking when least expected was indeed a brilliant move that saved them a great deal of effort. The spies they had planted within the Heaven of Ascendant Life had likely played a major role, and there was undoubtedly help from outside forces as well.

Knowing the 11th Team was doing well was enough. After ending the call with Eudy, Cillin headed to a conference room next to Ci Jincheng’s laboratory.

This conference room was somewhat unique. Unlike the typical, highly formal and structured meeting rooms, the seating here was entirely free-form. The walls were lined with various schematic monitors and displays, and there was even fitness equipment scattered about.

By the time Cillin arrived, everyone was already there. Knight and two others were over by the exercise equipment; one was practicing boxing, while another was doing a weighted run. Kang Man held an Electronic Pad, scribbling away at something unknown. Pride was playing a game, and Yue Lou was busy studying an antique-style rifle...

“Sorry I’m late,” Cillin said, casually dragging a chair over to sit down.

Wheeze was strolling around the conference room. After all, there were no strict rules when these people held meetings—there was even a guy eating off to the side.

“It’s fine, I only just got here myself.” Ci Jincheng pinched the bridge of his nose. The progress of his research had still failed to keep pace with the crisis.

Ci Jincheng pressed a button on a controller in his hand, bringing up a projection in the center of the room. It was a star map. The various star sectors of the GAL were all displayed within it.

“This image was compiled from the latest intelligence,” Ci Jincheng explained. “The planets marked in red are where the Dream Tapirs first appeared, while the ones marked in orange are the planets that have now been infected. Based on the information we have, seventy-five deadly viruses have already emerged, and there are no absolute vaccines for any of them. If caught early enough, drug injections can help. But these viruses have mutated, rendering many previously manufactured vaccines and drugs largely ineffective. Not to mention, there are also some entirely new viruses in the mix—artificially engineered ones.”

Ci Jincheng had organized all the incoming information to present to the group. Knight, Pride, and the others had forwarded all their newly acquired intelligence directly to him. They didn’t have a deep understanding of viruses; knowing the general situation was enough for them.

The Eight Great Legions had ceased their infighting, and the political families of the A Star Sector had halted their civil wars, beginning to coordinate with local governments to handle the crisis. They had drawn up various contingency plans prior to this—the recent commotions hadn’t been baseless; they had been deploying their forces. Now, every single one of them was overwhelmed with work. Shi Huajing had been swamped ever since his brief initial contact with Cillin. Aware of his situation, Cillin hadn’t bothered him again after receiving his last message.

Everyone had now pooled the intelligence they’d gathered through their respective channels, resulting in the detailed military deployment map currently projected in the center of the room. The information Cillin provided, in particular, far exceeded Ci Jincheng and Knight’s expectations. They had never imagined he would be capable of acquiring such highly classified and detailed intel.

“I’ve said since the Tapir Extermination squad was formed that our destination would definitely be a hard-hit disaster zone,” Ci Jincheng said. “Moreover, it will be a semi-abandoned one.”

“Then where are we going next?” Pride asked, frowning as he studied the distribution of markers on the star map.

The combined capabilities of the Eight Great Legions and the major families were considerable. At the very least, several planets that Pride considered important had already been secured with deployments.

“I’m just wondering how so many planets slipped through the net during the previous intensive sweeps,” Knight said, his expression grim. Radiating killing intent, he vented his frustration directly onto the boxing heavy bag in front of him.

With the Eight Great Legions and so many major families joining forces for the sweeping operations, and with everyone fully aware of the devastating threat the Dream Tapirs posed, how could there be so many that slipped through? And on such crucial planets, too. How could Dream Tapirs appear even within the internal jurisdictions of the Eight Great Legions and the major political families of the A Star Sector?

There was only one possibility: the moles hadn’t been completely rooted out. Furthermore, these moles had to be holding high-ranking positions; anyone with a lower level of authority wouldn’t be able to pull this off. That didn’t necessarily mean they were all outright spies, however. Perhaps some of them still harbored thoughts of monopolizing the Dream Tapirs for themselves. The Sixth Army, for example, had been wavering on the issue, which was precisely what allowed certain individuals to exploit the situation.

If they had possessed Sifang’s resolve from back then, would this have still happened? The forces under Sifang’s command had been far inferior to the current massive alliance, yet it remained the most successful operation Knight had ever known of.

‘A bunch of old foxes!’ he thought.

With a loud rip, the heavy bag tore open. Knight’s punching power had exceeded its maximum shock-absorption limit. Clearly, he was furious about the situation.

It was precisely because they loathed the behavior of those politicians that Knight and the others had broken off to operate independently. They had argued with their respective families countless times over it. However, they had made their decision, and there was no turning back.

Following Knight’s words, a brief silence fell over the conference room. Everyone understood the shady politics at play, but what could they do about it?

Wheeze perched on a high platform to the side, looking down at the eighteen youths seated in the room. He knew that human minds were exceedingly complex—something he would never be able to comprehend. At most, he could pick up a few tricks from Czedow, but he still preferred a more primal, straightforward approach to solving problems. Wheeze secretly rejoiced that he wasn’t human; most humans lived lives that were far too stifling and exhausting. It was much better to be a cat. Tucking his front paws and curling his tail, Wheeze lay down, narrowed his eyes, and began to doze off.

“Ahem!” Ci Jincheng cleared his throat, pulling everyone’s attention back. “Regardless, it’s already happened. Our capabilities are limited, and there is only one thing we can do—our best!”

He pointed to a specific region on the projection, and the image magnified. It displayed the R Star Sector, one of the GAL’s lagging sectors—a place Cillin had visited before.

The R Star Sector was also known as the Red Sector because the majority of its planets were red. The deeper the shade of red, the lower the habitability. Many of its populated planets only bore a faint reddish tint, rather than a bright crimson or deeper crimson.

Conversely, a deeper red also indicated richer mineral deposits. Logically speaking, with so many red planets and such abundant resources, the sector should have been extremely prosperous, but the reality was quite the opposite.

Due to the abnormal magnetic fields surrounding many of the deep red planets in the R Star Sector, combined with frequent solar flare activity, a great deal of advanced technology was rendered useless there. Without the ability to implement modern technology, the region inevitably fell behind. This was the primary reason the R Star Sector had been classified as a lagging zone. The technological deficit ensured that the sector lagged behind the rest of the galaxy in countless areas.

Since technology was of no use, some developers turned their sights toward cheap labor—something the lagging sectors had in abundance. As a result, much like the other lagging zones, the R Star Sector saw a high volume of cheap labor trade. Additionally, because of its rich mineral deposits, Hunters frequently visited the region to complete missions, keeping the area highly active even to this day. Unfortunately, this high level of activity meant that once the Dream Tapirs appeared, the epidemic spread much more severely there than in other lagging sectors.

The lagging sectors were, without a doubt, a secondary priority for the military legions and the major families. Their primary deployments had been focused on the trade sectors and the top three star sectors. This was exactly why the death toll in the lagging regions was currently so much higher than in the trade sectors, and it was still climbing at an alarming rate.

“The R Star Sector?”

“Yeah, that’s my plan,” Ci Jincheng said, pointing to a specific planet. “There are several large pharmaceutical factories and development bases on this planet. However, their performance has been poor, and a few of the plants are on the verge of bankruptcy. I suspect there might be a hidden Miracle outpost there.”

Hearing this, several people perked up. A hidden Miracle outpost in the R Star Sector? If it was true, and if they could capture it, they might uncover a wealth of secrets—and perhaps even find a way to control the current crisis.

“What makes you suspect that place?” Knight asked.

“It’s actually just one of several targets on my list,” Ci Jincheng replied. “When I sent a team to survey the planet, they encountered obstruction. The results they brought back were completely normal, but they were too normal. That alone aroused my suspicion, though I never had the time to organize a follow-up expedition.”

As he spoke, Ci Jincheng pulled up a batch of data. There were indeed many irregularities in the information displayed on the projection. It might look fine to a layman, but anyone with even a basic understanding of pharmaceuticals could spot the anomalies. Not to mention, Ci Jincheng had included helpful annotations to ensure everyone could understand the data.

“The production of this drug didn’t have any impact on the local water quality?” Pride remarked. “With the level of equipment those factories possess, how could they possibly have zero-emission processes?”

“Furthermore, their pharmaceutical production volume doesn’t match their export numbers,” another person added.

“Exactly,” Ci Jincheng nodded. “In addition to that, I cross-referenced other survey data from the past fifty years, all of which contain similar anomalies. Therefore, I suspect that even if there isn’t a Miracle research lab hidden there, they are likely providing Miracle with foundational pharmaceutical support.”

Everything Ci Jincheng had investigated pointed to something being deeply wrong with this planet.

“But why didn’t anyone discover this during the sweeps?”

“Someone tampered with it,” Ci Jincheng explained. “The reports submitted by the investigators I sent under the guise of the local sector government differ vastly from the findings of the agents I hired in secret. Several of the data points you see here are comparisons of the two. Some of these drugs bear completely different labels, containing substances that look identical but are fundamentally different. Furthermore, most of these drugs perfectly match the reagents used in the Sixth Army’s underground laboratory that we discovered earlier.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s move out,” Pride said, standing up and cracking his knuckles. “We’ll crush every one of them we find. Those bastards from Miracle are absolute lunatics!”

“Let’s head out first and discuss the rest on the way,” Knight agreed. “Sitting around here won’t accomplish anything anyway.”

“Alright then, we move out,” Ci Jincheng said in agreement. He pressed a button on his controller, causing a section of the wall to slide open and reveal an armory stocked with gear. “Gear up first. Lung is waiting for us just outside the C Star Sector.”

As the others filed into the armory, Cillin paused for a moment, subtly flashing a hand signal to Czedow.

“What’s on your mind, Cillin?” Ci Jincheng asked, walking over after powering down the projector.

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

Only Czedow and Wheeze knew what Cillin’s gesture had meant.

The underground defense grid Cillin had established on Brown Earth had just activated a hidden program embedded within the planet’s satellite array. The entirety of Brown Earth was now enveloped by a massive defensive network. Outsiders wouldn’t be able to enter, and the people inside wouldn’t want to leave.

Brown Earth was neither active nor wealthy. In fact, it was practically destitute, as were its neighboring planets. Yet, this shared poverty—poor people with poor neighbors—was exactly what saved them. The planets where the Dream Tapirs had surfaced were far enough away that the threat wouldn’t reach them anytime soon. Furthermore, the planet’s satellite defense network had been forcibly activated, sealing Brown Earth off from the outside. Down in that impoverished old residential district, the underground network was firing up as well, ready to protect the area and its residents by purging any infected outsiders.

At least until they found a way to deal with the Dream Tapirs, this was all they could do.

At Cillin’s signal, Czedow remotely activated the program they had implanted there. Following Cillin’s instructions, he immediately cranked it up to the highest security tier.

The base’s eighteen members quickly gathered their gear. Aboard the aircraft, Ci Jincheng had already prepped all their necessary equipment, simply waiting for everyone to board.

“Safe travels,” Purisa told them.

She was rushing off to the S Star Sector and couldn’t accompany Cillin’s group.

“Understood. You be careful as well.”

The two aircraft took off one after another, leaving the C Star Sector behind.

After rendezvousing with Lung over in the H Star Sector, they all headed for the R Star Sector together.

Whether it was because of the Dream Tapirs or something else, Young Master Lung was unusually serious, entirely stripped of his usual joking demeanor. Meanwhile, on a certain planet, inside a castle-like estate belonging to the Andrea Family, Lung’s grandfather, old Mr. Andrea Fergus, gripped a letter so tightly he nearly blew the roof off the room in a rage. Early that morning, he had received the news that Young Master Lung had gone missing, leaving only this bullshit letter behind.

“Where are Cillin and Ci Jincheng?” Lung asked. He had been sitting quietly for a while and just stood up to stretch, only to realize the two were nowhere to be seen.

“The lab. Those two are busy men,” Knight answered, his eyes closed.

“Still no progress?” Lung scratched his chin, a distressed look on his face.

“It can’t be helped. Even those so-called senior academic researchers haven’t come up with any solid solutions. The two of them can only do their best.”

In truth, Cillin had just experienced a sudden flash of inspiration while sleeping earlier. A few ideas had struck him, and to seize that spark, he had immediately holed himself up in the lab. He hadn’t stepped out since.

This time, Czedow hadn’t gone over to assist Ci Jincheng. Cillin had assigned tasks to both of them, Wheeze included.

“Do we really have to do this?” Wheeze asked, looking deeply reluctant.

“It’s worth a try. It’s not like we have any better options right now,” Cillin said, patting the cat’s head.

“Fine.” Wheeze sighed. Staring at the task Cillin had laid out, the cat got the distinct feeling that its break times were going to be non-existent for a good, long while. Still, this idea of Cillin’s...

“What are the odds of success?” Czedow asked.

“Thirty percent. It’s just a preliminary plan for now. We won’t know more until later,” Cillin answered.

On the screen in front of him glowed a graphic—one that bore a striking resemblance to the Dream Tapir...