It was a coincidence, but Ning Weihe was convinced he wasn't mistaken. Amidst the mist of illusion, a place teeming with life actually existed beneath the deep sea. He had tried repeatedly to find it, but besides revealing more of his own intelligence, he had only gained a superficial understanding.
That thing is not the home of the awakened, nor is it the habitat of marine mutants, nor is it the legendary underwater temple. It is a factory, a factory made of flesh and blood, a factory that continuously produces living weapons.
The factory is located in the eastern part of Southland, bordering Brisbane's new urban area (New Town 7).
Its actual area is not much different from the entire urban area. Even through the thick sea water, the infrared signals it emits can still be captured by the remaining high-orbit meteorological satellites.
The Countermeasures Bureau has never encountered an enemy of this magnitude. If it follows the old procedures and takes charge of all mutant incidents, even if it expands its staff and budget tenfold, it may not be enough.
What level of weapons would be needed to have a real effect on a behemoth with a radius of two to three hundred kilometers?
Weapons of mass destruction may be able to do it, but where there is killing there must be survivors. Humans have never had the ability to completely destroy a certain creature.
It might be okay if it was just a single individual, but what if it was a cluster of malignant tumors?
So it is obvious that the Countermeasures Bureau will not and cannot use simple and crude "chemotherapy" or "radiotherapy" methods. They must use targeted drugs.
So who is the real medicine in this mission?
Ning Weihe looked at the group of people surrounding the command platform. At this moment, he still hesitated.
No. 509 had already arrived at the designated position. The two torpedo tubes at the front were ready to fire, the vertical launcher on the top was also filled in place, and even the various systems of the submarine had completed combat maintenance. The hole in F2 was patched, leaving only an inconspicuous square block of color.
The captain held an unlit cigarette between his lips. He gazed at a holographic chart marked with multicolored lines, muttering something to himself. The twitching of his stubble and the end of his cigarette magnified the subtle vibrations of his lips. He had watched the staff's mission plans unfold, from radical to cautious. He simply had to choose one.
In this era, all planned actions can be quantified. Assisted by the immense computing power of universal quantum computers, it's possible to precisely calculate the amount of material, energy, labor, and even specific crew members sacrificed. Furthermore, if a decision-maker feels overwhelmed or finds several options unacceptable, they can rely on artificial intelligence to delegate the decision-making process.
Ning Weihe didn't want to see Lao Yu choose this option, but he also understood those who gave up thinking. After all, at that time, this choice was the same for everyone - it was too difficult.
The two political commissars were present, and they felt they couldn't place the entire heavy burden on the captain, even though he was truly a rare and exceptional officer. They used gestures to soothe the crowd, and although no one heard a word they said, they understood what they were trying to say.
What else can they say?
It's just something that has been repeated countless times.
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