The Commander could almost hear a collective gasp—the sound of countless minds breaking. Everyone at headquarters was struck dumb; in that moment, it felt as if their courage had been devoured by that black speck.
The camera zoomed in, closer and closer, until the Commander saw it clearly: that black speck was actually a black sphere, about five meters in diameter.
Even across the sea, you could see vast cracks spiderwebbing across the sphere’s surface, only to ripple and heal like some kind of gelatinous ooze. Just a glance at the screen made it feel as if that black, viscous substance could corrupt your very soul.
In the next moment, the sphere split open from the sides, revealing the Emperor within.
The Black Death Emperor.
The Black Death Emperor didn’t advance any further. He stood atop the sea, shrouded by a black substance that formed a shield around him, his entire body untouched and unscathed.
But he wasn’t unchanged.
Those eyes, always half-closed, finally—at this moment—opened wide.
The image was blurry from the distance, warped by the waves, obscured by glare and shadows—yet suddenly, the Commander felt as if that black-robed Emperor was looking straight down at him.
The old Commander’s heart skipped a beat.
Not only did the six stacked nukes fail to kill the Black Death Emperor—they actually made him open his eyes.
"It’s over..." The old Commander slumped into his chair, numbly clutching the phone. "Mr. President, I’m afraid... we’re all... on the wrong side of history..."
"Aaaah—!" Suddenly, shrill screams erupted throughout headquarters—everything that had happened had finally snapped their sanity. On the screen, the roaring inferno was suddenly tainted black. Black—so much black—endless, overwhelming blackness, exploding into black flames that devoured everything in sight.
Far out at sea, Mecha Fatty, Li Yuncong, and the others had just finished off the enemy Chosen Ones and were struggling to surface. They spat out seawater, looked up—and saw a terrifying mushroom cloud erupting in the distance.
All the Chosen Ones stared, dumbstruck, their bodies and minds reeling: "What... the... hell..."
But the next second, they saw that terrifying, billowing mushroom cloud suddenly freeze in the sky. It was like someone had trapped it in amber—no longer rising, no longer dissipating, perfectly suspended in midair.
Then they saw blackness. Endless black flames shot up to the heavens, and in the blink of an eye, the magnificent mushroom cloud was completely consumed—transformed into a giant mushroom cloud made entirely of black fire.
"Miasma... it’s miasma... This much miasma—are we looking at the end of the world?" Li Yuncong muttered to himself.
"Hey... doesn’t this move look kind of familiar..." Mecha Fatty mumbled too.
The two exchanged glances, then suddenly screamed in unison: "What—the—hell—!!!"
They really had seen this move before—just moments ago, in fact—but this time, the scale was way more terrifying.
Before they could even think about running, the frozen pillar of black fire suddenly burst into bloom.
The giant black mushroom cloud suddenly transformed into something like New Year's fireworks, spraying countless streams of black light from its peak. There were so many, so dense, that in an instant, the entire sea was blanketed in endless black streaks. The group looked up—waves of black fire swept across the sky like a tide, plunging the whole ocean into shadow.
From Chicago to San Francisco, it didn’t matter what people were doing—ordinary folks or Chosen Ones alike—everyone started screaming and running in panic. Nobody knew where to go, but some nameless, primal terror spread with the eruption of black fire, and no one could resist that despair from the very core of their being.
Unmeasurable black fire spread out like a giant umbrella, unfurling far and wide. It was like a school of apocalyptic fish, rushing toward every target marked as an enemy.
Hundreds, thousands of kilometers—gone in the blink of an eye.
Just as someone started screaming in the Pacific Navy headquarters, just as the Commander slumped and turned his head, the rain of black fire had already crossed the distance and come crashing down.
Silent and unstoppable, the entire assembled Pacific Navy was covered, not a single soul spared. Each black flame was only the size of a candle’s flicker, but before the Commander’s eyes, every ship, plane, fighter—on the water, under the waves, in the sky—was showered in flames.
An indescribable grief seized his heart; tears welled from the Commander’s eyes, warping his vision. In a blink, everything was ablaze with terrifying black fire. The ocean became a sea of black flames, swallowing the entire navy. Open your eyes again after a blink—everything had burned away. Flesh and steel alike vanished into the black fire, not a trace left behind.
No—the Pacific Navy wasn’t completely destroyed. There was still one ship left.
It was the aircraft carrier—the very one serving as headquarters.
The mighty hull of the aircraft carrier floated on the ocean, once an unstoppable war machine—now radiating sheer, trembling panic.
"What’s going on? What the hell is happening!" The President’s voice roared through the satellite phone. "Why has every Navy signal vanished? Report, now!"
"The Navy..." The Commander croaked, voice thick with tears. "It’s... all gone..."
Two-thirds of America’s Pacific naval might was gathered here. Now, after the black fire, it was all gone. But the black fire wasn’t just burning the Pacific Navy—the Black Death Emperor’s wrath wasn’t so easily quenched.
Every debt has its debtor.
And the debtor isn’t just these poor grunts.
Suddenly, a towering road of black arcs shot out from the distant sea, piercing straight through the aircraft carrier’s bridge and stopping right in front of the Commander.
In the blink of an eye, the Emperor—like a god—strode along the arc of black light, crossing the ocean and appearing in the command center, feet planted on a black rainbow.
Everyone in the command center had lost their minds. They screamed and shoved, but under the crushing weight of that sudden, overwhelming pressure, they all froze, unable to move.
Only the Commander stumbled back a couple steps, staring in terror at the Emperor before him. In that instant, he finally understood what it meant to be ranked number one on the Heavenly List—what it meant to be truly invincible. If this man wanted, he could cross the Pacific and reach America in a heartbeat. If he wanted, he could burn the whole continent down with black fire.
But he’d never done it.
Even after all the attacks, he’d never fought back.
Maybe he really didn’t bear any grudge against America.
But unfortunately, now—it was too late for anything.
"What do you mean, wiped out! What does ‘wiped out’ even mean!" The President’s hysterical shouting echoed through the phone. "How could our entire Navy be gone just like that? Explain yourself!"
Click. The Black Death Emperor raised his hand, expressionless, and took the satellite phone.