NOVEL WEB Chapter 89: Deliver a Gift
The transmission began, echoing loudly over the base below. "Attention, survivors! This is Caribbean base, the largest survivor base. We come equipped with sixteen anti-surface missiles and are capable of launching devastating attacks. You have ten minutes to surrender all your technology and technological creations. Resistance is futile! Failure to comply will result in missile strikes, and the use of intercontinental or even nuclear weapons cannot be ruled out. Do not test our patience." The arrogance in Jock's voice was clear, each word dripping with the certainty of their supposed dominance.
Zack arrived above NYC City, cutting through the skies at Mach 4.5. The moment he approached, the broadcasts of the F-15s reached his ears. Hearing their demands, Zack couldn't help but chuckle at their ignorance. "Ego, is it April Fools' Day?" he asked dryly.
"No, Sir," Ego replied in its usual calm tone.
"Then maybe they're just retarded," Zack mused, his amusement vanishing as his expression darkened. Below, the two F-15 jets continued circling above the steel mill, oblivious to the danger looming overhead. Zack had deliberately refrained from activating the base's air defenses, curious about their intentions. But now, their greed had sealed their fate.
"Ego, activate the air defense—no," Zack stopped himself, a cold smirk spreading across his face. "I'll handle it personally." In an instant, Zack accelerated, his speed climbing to nearly Mach 5 as he raced toward the two jets.
"UFO detected! Speed... Mach 4.8!" The sudden alert on their radar sent the pilots into a frenzy. One pilot's voice crackled with panic. "Chief, there's something approaching—"
Before he could finish, Zack appeared. A small black dot rapidly expanded as it closed the distance, becoming a blur against the horizon. "Evade! Quick!" shouted one of the pilots. But it was too late.
Zack shot past one of the jets, the wind barrier created by his supersonic speed smashing into the F-15 like a physical wall. The sheer force shredded the aircraft, tearing it into pieces mid-air. One of the engines spiraled to the ground, engulfed in flames, while the pilots were instantly reduced to nothing more than a crimson mist.
Boom! Boom!
The delayed sonic boom reverberated across the area long after Zack had already flown far ahead. "Plane 1 is down! Chief, I request evacuation—permission to retreat!" The remaining pilot's voice cracked with fear. Without waiting for a reply, he pushed the throttle to its maximum, his jet roaring as it climbed to Mach 2.5 in a desperate bid for escape.
Zack watched the fleeing jet with cold detachment. "Run all you like. Let's see if you can outrun the speed of light."
As the fleeing pilot broke the sound barrier, his radar finally showed the UFO disappearing behind him. Relief washed over him, his frantic breaths filling the cockpit. "I escaped... I escaped!" he laughed, the sound wild and manic.
His victory was short-lived. A searing red beam sliced through the air, cutting through the F-15 like a hot knife through butter. The jet's frame glowed briefly before melting, leaving behind nothing but a charred shell that spiraled down to earth. The pilot inside shared the same fate—vaporized before he could scream. "No matter how fast you fly, light will always be faster," Zack said coldly, watching the wreckage fall.
"Ego, is the channel analysis complete?" Zack asked, his voice laced with icy precision.
"Yes, Sir. The channel is ready," Ego confirmed.
"Good," Zack said, his gaze hard and unrelenting. "Patch me through. It's time to show them what they'll really get from me."
"Ha, haha! I-I escaped! I escaped!" In the Caribbean base, the audio signal from the satellite abruptly stopped after these frantic words. Silence followed.
"Unit 2? Report your situation!" "Unit 2, do you copy?" Jock Forsman called out twice, his voice sharp with urgency, but no response came. His expression darkened with every passing second.
"Stop shouting. It's pointless." The audio feed crackled back to life, this time carrying a voice dripping with mockery, cold and taunting.
Hearing it, Jock exchanged glances with Kshadi and Navas, who stood beside him. These were the three key leaders of the Caribbean base, and they all came to the same realization: the two fighter jets they had sent out… were gone. "Who are you?" Jock grabbed the microphone, his tone laced with hostility.
"You've come all this way to threaten me, and you don't even know who I am?" Zack's voice came back smoothly, tinged with sarcasm. "Seems like someone's been slacking on their intel work."
"I'll tell you who you are, you Stupid bastard!" Navas, a Muay Thai master turned mutant after the apocalypse, grabbed the microphone and roared into it. His mutation had amplified his already terrifying strength, inflating his arrogance and disdain for others. "You've crossed the wrong people! You've angered the Caribbean base!" Navas bellowed. "Wait and see—we'll flatten your base with missiles! We'll take everything from you!"
It took a few seconds for his words to reach Zack due to the outdated satellite systems they were using. "Stupid bastard?" Zack repeated, his voice suddenly devoid of humor.
The playful tone vanished entirely, replaced by a chilling calmness. The kind of calm that made the air feel heavier. "You want my weapons?" Zack said slowly, his voice colder than ice. "Fine. Wait for me—I'll deliver them to you personally."
The line went dead. "Activate satellite weapons," Zack commanded Ego, his AI assistant. "It's time to pluck the eyes out of these fools, one by one."
He slowed his descent, approaching his Mansion. The Apex suit guided him smoothly into the underground hangar. With a hiss and a series of metallic clinks, the suit opened up as he stepped out, his boots clicking against the polished floor. "Restock the ammo," he ordered, his tone calm but firm. "Recall all the mechanical units and have them board the Avalon."
He picked up the communicator. "Ava, what's your status?"
Almost immediately, Ava's voice came through, crisp and cold. "Approaching NYC City. ETA: soon." Her words were efficient, her tone steady—completely unlike the sluggish, outdated communications the Caribbean base used.
"Good," Zack said. "The target location is marked in your navigation system. Adjust course immediately."
"Understood," Ava replied, but there was a slight tremble in her voice. As she checked the coordinates, her frost-like demeanor melted, replaced by a flicker of emotion. The target was the Caribbean base.
A sharp breath escaped her as memories flooded back. It was at the Imperial Base that she and her squad had been betrayed by Kane. Caught off guard, they had been ambushed by the Caribbean base's forces. All her comrades had perished. She had been the sole survivor.
"Sir, what are we going for?" she asked, her voice trembling with both rage and anticipation. For once, she used the word "sir" instinctively.
"To deliver a gift," Zack replied, his tone steady.