NEC Chapter 32: The Wanderer’s Letter

Zheng Ran, who was on a rest shift, opened the buffer door and entered the observation area. Per protocol, he could only activate his own re

Zheng Ran, who was on a rest shift, opened the buffer door and entered the observation area. Per protocol, he could only activate his own recording device, stopping outside the safety line, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the communicator, nervously watching his two teammates on the other side of the glass.

After Chi Qiu completed the preliminary environmental safety check, Lin Xiangdong, now in full protective gear, entered the decontamination corridor. The heavy connecting door sealed shut behind him, locking seamlessly with the middle layer.

Passing through the misty corridor filled with atomized disinfectant, cold white fog condensed into tiny droplets on his visor, only to be swiftly evaporated by the final air vent.

Standing before the airtight door, its dim blue indicator lights flickering, Lin Xiangdong glanced back through the double-layered observation window, giving his comrades a clear, confident “all clear” gesture. Without hesitation, he stepped on the hydraulic pedal to open the door.

A faint hiss of depressurization broke the silence. The heavy alloy door slid open noiselessly. Lin Xiangdong stepped into the inner chamber, known as the “Star Nest,” without a moment’s pause.

The room resembled a fortified steel cage, or perhaps an ultra-high-security interrogation chamber. Its walls were thick, specialized concrete, the ceiling and floor lined with reinforced steel plates. The only connection to the outside was a massive, multilayered explosion-proof glass window facing the observation area.

The Star Nest was packed with countless detection devices, their indicator lights blinking red and green like a constellation, emitting a low, rhythmic hum.

Surrounded by this technological “sea of stars,” the mysterious beacon at the center of the room had fully activated, projecting a soft, glowing pale blue ring.

From an unknown source, milky white mist dissipated like a delicate veil, revealing a square package, one meter by one meter and half a meter tall. Atop it, several sheets of handwritten paper were carefully pinned.

Lin Xiangdong confirmed the camera system’s angle and began unpacking.

By the time Leader Cangming, rushing from the busy Weiyang Palace, arrived at Changle Palace, Lin Xiangdong had completed the initial inspection.

Ever since Chen Mo’s “Call of the Child” stunt, East Xia’s two top leaders had to take turns staying on standby in Changan Prefecture, like anxious parents fretting over a troublesome child.

Lin Xiangdong spread out the papers, projecting them page by page onto the command center’s large screen.

“The Wanderer’s letter is detailed,” Lin Xiangdong reported steadily. “He sends greetings and gratitude to the leaders, stating he has temporarily resolved his troubles but faces obstacles in his pursuit of knowledge, currently seeking new solutions.”

“To repay the nation, the Wanderer has sent a batch of specialties from the Starry Continent, accessible to him, along with an attached item list.”

“This transmission was well-prepared with ample time, expected to maintain a stable receiving window of 72 to 96 hours. However, as the Wanderer did not use the previous special potion, the total transmission weight is significantly lower than last time.”

Minutes later, after reviewing the materials, Leader Cangming nodded to Lin Xiangdong. “Well done. Proceed with the established plan.”

“Understood!” the three responded in unison.

Among them, Zheng Ran, the best linguist, was tasked with translating parts of the letter requiring expert input into White-Headed Sea Eagle language before passing it to the translation team, who would submit both the original and translated texts to the Cihang Project Office.

These polished texts would be issued as tasks to the planning and intelligence analysis teams for rationalized recommendations.

The White-Headed Sea Eagle language, one of Blue Star’s most widely used, was a logical choice for discretion.

Chi Qiu coordinated with the research teams, preparing to send the materials to various institutes and labs for analysis.

Lin Xiangdong, as the overseer, managed coordination, supervision, and preparation of outgoing materials.

After finalizing their assignments and cross-checking, the trio issued the Cihang Project Office’s first official task order, instantly ramping the office to full operational mode.

Leader Donghuang, attending a summit abroad, took time to call via encrypted transoceanic line, highly praising and fully affirming the Stargazing team’s work.

So far, East Xia’s Donghuang Tanshu was still in the grueling phase of cleaning up Chen Mo’s messes.

While Little Blondie caused trouble for Chen Mo, Big Blondie was stirring trouble for East Xia.

As the leader of the White-Headed Sea Eagle Federation, he boasted countless titles, the most memorable being his “Stock Market Sage” moniker.

And, of course, his nightly habit of watching cartoons.

The last time Chen Mo sent the altar beacon out of nowhere, it triggered East Xia’s air defense systems. Fighter jets, missiles, and air raid sirens filled Changan’s skies, a shocking spectacle impossible to conceal.

As East Xia’s leadership scrambled to explain this sudden “supernatural event,” Big Blondie, always a step ahead with his penchant for sensationalism, posted triumphantly on his social media account with millions of followers: “Look! Our great White-Headed Sea Eagle gave East Xia a little shock with a groundbreaking superweapon! Clearly, their panic is no better than a startled lizard in the desert!”

“I will make the White Eagle great again! MAGA!”

His words set global media ablaze.

Though everyone knew the leader’s statements weren’t always… rigorously reliable, the White-Headed Sea Eagle Federation’s long-standing, formidable image remained etched in Blue Star’s collective psyche.

If anyone could make East Xia appear “flustered,” at least superficially, it was indeed Big Blondie and his Eagle Empire.

East Xia’s strategic planners convened urgently, grudgingly analyzing public sentiment before reaching a reluctant conclusion: “Fine, we can’t explain this away. Let him take the blame for now and save us the effort of fabricating excuses.”

As for losing face?

The strategists knew better: when weighing options, the lesser evil prevails. Protecting the “Star Gate” and “Wanderer” secrets was far more critical than short-term public relations battles.

By adopting a stance of neither confirming nor denying, East Xia left global intelligence agencies swarming like vultures toward the White-Headed Sea Eagle Federation, nearly driving their intelligence community to tears.

A “superweapon”? Wouldn’t we know if we had one?

This was shameless grandstanding for a quick win!

Of course, East Xia’s loss of face demanded strategic counterbalancing. Donghuang Tanshu launched a flurry of diplomatic visits, while the military conducted large-scale, live-fire exercises in select maritime regions.

These moves shifted attention from East Xia’s capital to the southeast while showcasing tangible military might, mitigating the fallout from the “air defense incident” and declaring to the world: East Xia stands unshaken.

Now, all the grievances, long waits, and meticulous preparations had borne initial fruit—the first batch of items from a mysterious otherworld had arrived in East Xia!

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