Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 253: Daydreaming Again
The Coronado is a warship whose location you can never find.

It is too small to play a decisive role in a war between major powers.

They're too expensive to just send them out as minesweeping target ships.

As the first ship of the "Independence" class, the "Coronado" had a very unique design philosophy:
Fast, flexible, and modular.

In other words, it can theoretically do anything.
But in reality, they often can't do anything well.

Three-body structure?

Yes, with its interesting design and amazing speed, it's definitely suitable for a tech expo.

But you'd better pray that its radar and communication functions don't fail at a critical moment.

As for that modular task system—

Incompatible with software interfaces, installation cycles often take months, and integration is never stable.

For those in the industry, it's more like an expensive toy worth five hundred million dollars.

High-profile yet fragile, tasteless to eat, but a pity to throw away.

However, this does not mean that Zhou Yi cannot occasionally unleash his creativity.

No sea? No operations team?

It doesn't matter.

Gravity and mass have their uses.

In a future that Zhou Yi couldn't foresee, a saying would circulate on the internet:

You're about to hit the jackpot.

This is not a metaphor.

Big transport truck.

Eight axles and sixteen wheels.

You're sitting in a car in the opposite lane, and the sunlight streaming through the window is beautiful.

The next second, a huge piece of sheet metal came hurtling towards them.

"boom--!"

It's black in front of you.

That was the last view Fisher saw before he fell into a coma.

The sky seemed to collapse.

Something suddenly appeared in front of me.

There was no time to think, no time to dodge.
With a speed that cannot be explained by any physical law—

"boom--!"

After that, nothing was left.

Zhou Yi took out a cigarette from his pocket, put it in his mouth, and lit it.

A spark ignites, smoke dissipates, and nicotine slips smoothly into the lungs.

He stepped on the gas, pulled the lever with his left hand to shift gears, turned the car around, and drove back the way he came.

The wreckage of armored vehicles lay scattered haphazardly in the mud and scorched earth.

The steel plate was crushed into pieces, and it was impossible to piece it back together to its original shape.

The sand and gravel kicked up by the explosion still lingered in the air, mixed with gasoline and blood and flesh—

It emitted a nauseating smell.

At the site of the ground collapse, fragmented bodies emerged from the rubble.

Further out, in areas not completely covered by the Coronado, there are still people alive.

A soldier lay beside the wrecked car door, half of his face scraped away, instinctively twitching and struggling.

He struggled to reach out and try to crawl out, but his path was blocked by the corpse of his companion.

Then, the soldiers heard the sound of an engine.

A vehicle riddled with bullet holes stopped in front of him.

Zhou Yi, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, turned and pulled the pistol back from Katelyl's knee.

The woman remained unconscious, her forehead resting on the seat, her face pale, and her lips cracked.

The wound on my thigh was torn open a second time, staining the gauze red.

Zhou Yi thought for a moment, then rolled down the car window and fired a shot.

"boom!"

The person's suffering ended cleanly and decisively.

Finally, the noise woke up Cattel.

She suddenly opened her eyes and looked around in confusion.

There were no pursuers.

There were no searchlights.

The helicopter continued to circle high in the sky, but dared not lower its altitude.

It is waiting for a command.
Also confirming one thing—

What exactly happened next?

The cloud of dust had not yet dissipated, and a large, abrupt hole had appeared in the ground.
So much so that they couldn't tell whether it was an explosion, a collapse, or some other more bizarre phenomenon.

“What? What happened?” Cattel felt that everything around her was too unfamiliar and too quiet, making her almost think that her previous escape was just an illusion.

But the corpse in her arms kept reminding her of the truth of the matter.

Her head was almost split in two, and the cold liquid soaked her clothes, sticking stickily to her body.

"you're awake?"

A man's voice came from ahead.

It took Katelyl several seconds to figure out who the question came from.

She braced herself against the seat, barely managing to straighten her back, and noticed that the car was moving smoothly.

Outside the window stretched a vast expanse of undeveloped hills, seemingly endless.
There was no light, and no people.

The night was deep, and the outline of distant mountains could be vaguely seen on the horizon.

“I’m awake,” Cattel said, dazed. “What…what happened?”

Zhou Yi shrugged: "Who knows?"

"where are they?"

"Who?"

"Pursuers."

“You had a nightmare,” Zhou Yi said with interest. “There were never any pursuers.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he casually stubbed out his cigarette and lit another one for himself.

".?"

Katelyl remained silent, looking somewhat dazed.

Fourteen hours ago, she was still standing in the castle's kitchen, waiting for instructions on the operation.

And then what was it again?

Gunshots.

Yes, gunshots, dead bodies.

coma.

More people are dying.

Escape, pursuit.

coma.

Now, she sits in the back seat of the car, cradling half a corpse, while a strange Asian man sits in front of her, casually smoking.

Maybe I really am dreaming.

Then, Cattelly spoke up, voicing her biggest question:

Why did I dream about you, an Asian?

“I am a relief mechanism you fabricated,” Zhou Yi said in a serious tone.

"An Asian man killing someone with a gun and then rescuing you with a car—doesn't that sound like a symbol?"

Kate Lyle was a little confused.

“Your brain has created a savior from the Far East,” Zhou Yi continued to ramble on unhurriedly, “because subconsciously, you simply don’t believe that white people can save people from dire straits.”

"Are you my illusion?"

Ketterle tried to concentrate, but felt like her head was half-filled with broken glass.

She touched her temple and felt a sharp pain.

“Yes.” Zhou Yi nodded. “Now, your hallucination commands you to take it to Marcel.”

"Listen to me, don't fight against your own will."

Katelyl was still struggling to think, but the mild concussion prevented her from forming complete thoughts.

"I don't know when I started fantasizing about myself."

“I don’t know either,” Zhou Yi said. “Probably after you killed Weissman.”

"From a psychological perspective, hallucinations often occur in environments of extreme stress."

"This is common, don't worry."

Upon hearing this, Katelyl immediately realized that the man's words made a lot of sense, and she simply gave up struggling.

She threw the body in her hand and fell into the back seat with a thud.

The world before my eyes continued to spin, and a buzzing sound filled my ears.

“I’m probably still lying on the castle floor, dying,” Katelyl said softly.

"But I feel neither sad nor afraid of hallucinations."

"why is that?"

"My life is clearly coming to an end."

"Because you completed the task assigned by the organization," Zhou Yi said.

“Maybe,” Cattel sighed. “Thank you for your comfort, illusion.”

Zhou Yi found it somewhat amusing that the woman believed his words so readily.

"In short, take me to Marcel as soon as possible," he said.
"I have a bad feeling about this, and I hope it's not too late."

(End of this chapter)