I'm the King Of Technology Chapter 1971 Move Out!

Under the shroud of a pitch-black night, several figures stood rigidly at attention, chests thrust forward. The atmosphere was heavy with a thick layer of anticipation and dread; meanwhile, a salty breeze carried the muffled thumping of distant drums, serving as a grim herald of the looming war.

Breaking into smaller clusters, the crowd gathered before the towering hulls of the massive vessels. The orders were clear: they would be departing for WAR at exactly 00:30.

Since the fleet was scheduled to set sail at that precise moment, everyone had naturally been required to arrive hours in advance. "Fang Dovu!" "Sir!" a man shouted with fervor, clutching his backpack as he sprinted toward the boarding ramp. "Beatrice Staggard!"

"Sir!" a woman answered, mirroring his urgency as she rushed onto the ship. "Han Stoye!"

"Sir!" "Harvey Whineblock!" "Sir!"

Name after name was called out and checked off the manifest. Regardless of which UN empire they originated from, those assigned to work together boarded the same vessels. Most astonishingly, the humans even held a roll call for the dogs; the canines actually barked their replies one by one before scurrying onto the ships. Many onlookers watched this scene with black lines on their foreheads, marveling at how on earth these Baymardians had trained such animals. Why were their own dogs so dim-witted and useless by comparison? (-_-)

–00:07 AM–

"All aboard!!!" a highly decorated Navy officer bellowed. Although the boarding process had finished by 12:07 midnight, twenty-three minutes remained before the official departure. Because some ships were still finalizing their preparations, the fleet had to wait for the synchronized sailing time. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Upon the deck, sailors hurried with clear intent, their expressions a volatile blend of grit and anxiety.

The Almighty Destroyer—a Baymardian Burke-class guided-missile destroyer that doubled as a Navy cargo ship—loomed over the water with a terrifying presence. On the bridge, Captain Lisa Reeves stood tall, her sharp eyes monitoring the frantic activity on the deck below as her crew concluded their final tasks.

"Get Ready!" she commanded, her voice slicing through the early morning air like a sharpened blade. Instantly, the crew moved into high gear.

"Yes!" they responded, their faces set in grim determination. "All systems check complete, Captain," Lieutenant Commander Jackson reported. "The BAY-Aegis combat system is fully operational."

Reeves gave a sharp nod, her attention lingering on the ship's iconic SPY-1D radar arrays. "Initiate the departure sequence," she directed. Everything had to be perfectly aligned for the moment the clock struck 00:30.

Tack-Tack-Tack. Jackson’s fingers danced across the integrated bridge console. The sophisticated systems of this vessel were truly beyond the wildest dreams of any commoner. "Releasing mooring lines," he declared, his fingers tapping the necessary controls.

00:27… 00:28… Each passing second felt like a taut guitar string vibrating against their hearts.

00:29…

00:30… Go! Go! The moment had arrived!

"Bow and stern thrusters engaged," Reeves announced, expertly handling the joystick controls. Then, a powerful vibration shook the air. Brrmmmm!~

The Almighty Destroyer Ship Xenon 54 began its slow crawl away from the shores of Baymard. Success!

A wave of ecstasy washed over everyone on board.

"Engage main gas turbine engines, all ahead one-third," Reeves ordered, a wide smile breaking across her face.

This was her debut as a newly promoted Navy Captain in command of a Battleship, and she was determined not to f**k it up! Go! Go! Go!

The ship lunged forward in a heartbeat, leaving a churning wake behind as it gained momentum. On the bridge displays, every system—from the Mk 41 Vertical Launching System to the AN/SQQ-89 sonar suite—reported a ready status.

"Plot a course for the South Lampe-Adonis Sea." Reeves tightened her gloved fists, her lips pressed together in a firm line. "Everyone, let’s show them exactly what this ship is capable of!!"

…

Seconds stretched into minutes, then hours, and eventually days. Although significant time had passed since Coby first stepped onto these decks, the experience still felt like a dream to him. Coby was a simple peasant from the Czar empire in Romain. His entire perception of the world had only shifted after Czar was recognized as a UN empire. While he hadn't received his initial training in Baymard like many others, he had been drilled by veterans who had returned from there. According to them, discipline was the absolute foundation of everything. When Coby first boarded the battleship, his eyes were wide with a mix of wonder and fear. The vessel was a masterpiece of modern engineering, much like the other legendary ships of Baymard. However, these were not luxury Cruise Ships; they were utilitarian, focused on cargo and combat with many unique features. Coby had once thought his superiors back in Czar were ruthless, but after being drilled raw by Baymardian Navy squads on this Battleship, he realized his past training was merely child's play. Coby knew he would never forget those initial days. Having only been aboard for a short while, the weight of the expectations placed on his shoulders felt immense. The veteran Navy officers moved with a level of precision and poise that he could only hope to mimic. Watching them, he felt completely out of his element, like a fish out of water.

Curiously, this challenge only made Coby’s heart thrum with excitement. They were already performing drills on the very first day. "Today, we are conducting damage control exercises," a Navy officer announced. "During combat, the speed and efficiency with which you handle damage can be the thin line between life and death."

Good heavens! The exercises were brutal. Coby found himself squeezed into narrow crawlspaces, slamming hatches shut, and hauling emergency pumps. The physical strain was grueling, leaving his muscles screaming in protest.

When the drill concluded, Coby hoped for a reprieve, but he was sorely mistaken. "Drop and give me two hundred!" "_"

Was it too late to jump overboard? Next came a punishing cycle of sit-ups, burpees, and a grueling run around the deck. The sailors moved in a rhythmic, synchronized fashion, their breathing echoing in unison as they pushed past their physical limits. At least, that was how it felt to him. "Hey, Cody!" one of his bunkmates called out. "You know the saying: 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger!'"

"Huh…" Cody fired back, a smirk crossing his lips. "Yeah, but I think I'd rather stay weak and stay alive."

He was certain he could no longer feel his own legs. Devil Trainers! Every single one of these Navy officers was a drill instructor from hell! In this manner, Cody was dragged through the fire and back. By the time the morning ended, he was utterly spent. His frame ached in places he didn't know existed, and his uniform was drenched in sweat. Yet, as he looked at the faces of his comrades, a surge of pride and brotherhood filled him. Hah! Cody began to wonder if he was a closet masochist, considering how much he was starting to enjoy this hellish life at sea. (~w~)