Outside the base, Yokosuka's police cruisers had already sealed off every exit not long after the first explosions and gunfire rang out.
Yet the officers, pistols in hand as they stood beside their cars, looked utterly at a loss.
For even as the base roared with firestorms, continuous explosions, and a deluge of gunfire beyond imagination, they had no idea what they were truly facing.
They dared not take a single step past the gates of the base.
Never mind that no one knew exactly what was happening inside.
Even if they did know, they still wouldn't go in.
First, regulations forbade them from entering.
Second, if there really was a military firefight raging inside, stepping in would only mean certain death.
So they simply sealed the perimeter, waiting for the Self-Defense Forces to arrive and handle it.
But with phones dead and the network cut off, the frustration was palpable.
They couldn't report to their superiors, nor did they know what was happening to their own families.
No one knew how much time had passed.
By the time the horizon began to pale, some officers noticed the noise within had diminished.
At last, aside from the occasional isolated gunshot, there was no more sound of battle.
The hundreds of police on the scene exchanged uneasy looks.
"Could it be a military mutiny? Maybe it's already been suppressed?"
A young officer muttered under his breath.
No one answered. He could only force a sheepish smile.
Suddenly—all eyes turned as four military jeeps rolled out from the gates of the Yokosuka Port base. On each one, a black-clad soldier manned the MG-42 machine gun.
"Not good!!!"
The sight made every officer's blood run cold. But by then, it was far too late to run.
The Auxiliary Legion soldiers atop the jeeps squeezed their triggers, mowing down the officers and their cars in a hail of fire.
[Ratatatatata]
Searing tongues of flame spat from the barrels, machine gun rounds tearing through everything in sight.
[Boom! Boom!]
Two rockets blasted the police cars that still blocked the road, hurling them aside in fire and smoke.
And then, a convoy of black trucks loaded with Auxiliary soldiers surged forth toward the city of Yokosuka.
Their destination was north—Tokyo!
The hand of the World Government had finally reached into this world.
"Shihahaha!"
Above the Yokosuka Port base,
Shiki, clad in a blue coat of Justice, floated in the moonlit night sky, his lion-like mane of golden hair billowing wildly in the wind.
He laughed—loud, raving, unrestrained—venting years of pent-up frustration.
"Go! Go! Kill them all! Every last rebel, every last defier—kill them all!"
"Slaughter them all!"
"Shihahaha—!!!"
...
For the residents living in Yokosuka City, this night was unbearably difficult.
Countless people who had been asleep were suddenly jolted awake by the thunder of gunfire and artillery.
As the hours passed and the chaos showed no sign of abating, the atmosphere within the city grew increasingly eerie.
The fact that phones and the internet were down only deepened that fear.
Modern people had long since relied on them to seek out information, but now—they couldn't even call the police to ask what was happening.
More and more men gathered in the streets, their voices rising with nervous speculation.
Fortunately, the electricity still held. Had the lights gone out as well, the entire city would have been plunged into instant panic.
That was exactly why the shinobi hadn't touched the Yokosuka Thermal Power Plant.
A city in total chaos would do nothing to aid the World Government's next steps.
And then—those gathered along the main avenue saw a column of black jeeps rolling in from the west.
The heavy machine guns mounted on them, and the soldiers aboard, drew looks of shock across every face.
Because the vehicles' paint and the soldiers' uniforms were clearly not those of the Ground Self-Defense Forces—nor of the US's troops.
As the jeeps advanced, the endless line of black military trucks trailing behind them came into view.
What drew the most attention, however, were the emblems emblazoned on the hoods—white circular crosses within five rings.
The jeeps and trucks drew closer along both sides of the avenue.
Even so, few people thought to flee. Instead, they only watched uneasily as the vehicles screeched to a halt.
That, too, was a hallmark of modern people accustomed to peace.
They were simply too slow to react to military danger.
And with the heavy machine guns on those jeeps aimed directly at them, the sheer psychological pressure alone was enough to pin their feet to the ground.
Soon, as the military trucks behind the jeeps came to a halt, soldiers began leaping out—each one clad in olive-green uniforms and steel helmets, rifles in hand.
The soldiers spread out in a line along the avenue, their submachine guns all trained on the crowd.
A man in an officer's uniform stepped down from a jeep, a black-sheathed longsword hanging at his waist. Coming before the crowd, he raised his voice in a commanding tone.
"We are soldiers of the 3rd Company, 3rd Division, 1st Army of the Auxiliary Corps under the World Government," one of them declared flatly.
"By order of Major Rokossovsky, we are here to take control of this sector."
"I am Lieutenant Ferrel, company commander. You will now hand over your firearms and submit to temporary military control."
A patrol captain within the crowd froze for an instant.
But as his gaze lingered on the muzzles of those submachine guns, unease surged within him, and his right hand unconsciously reached for the holster at his waist.
Ferrel and the others noticed.
But no one was alarmed. They simply watched calmly as he drew his revolver.
After all, they had demanded the surrender of weapons—it was only natural that he would first take his gun out.
But who could have guessed that the captain's expression would harden, as he leveled the weapon squarely at Lieutenant Ferrel and barked: "I need to verify your identities! Hand over your driver's licenses right now, and bring your commanding officer here at once!"
At that, the two younger police officers also pulled out their revolvers.
In an instant, the atmosphere turned heavy and tense.
"…Idiots."
Lieutenant Ferrel shook his head.
Suddenly, a dazzling flash of golden light swept past. Everyone present instinctively shut their eyes.
When they slowly opened them again, terror seized their faces.
The heads of Patrol Captain and the two younger officers had just hit the ground with three heavy thuds, while their headless bodies still stood rigidly in place.
At that very moment, Lieutenant Ferrel was already sliding his blade back into its sheath.
And along the half-drawn blade at his side, arcs of golden lightning danced and crackled.
The sight struck like a hammer on every mind—the sheer visual shock was far too horrific.
"Ahhhhh!"
"Murder! They've killed someone!"
"Run—run quickly! They actually killed the police officers!"
In an instant, the crowd descended into chaos. Some screamed and fled, while others shouted in disbelief.
[Bang!]
A sudden gunshot silenced the entire square.
"Listen carefully! Obey our orders. Return to your homes in an orderly manner. Until the ban is lifted, no one is to leave without permission!"
"Anyone who dares insult or attack our soldiers in any way will be treated as a rioter and executed on the spot. Value your lives!"
No sooner had Lieutenant Ferrel's words fallen than gunshots echoed one after another from other parts of the city.
Clearly, the units sent to secure different districts were also encountering problems of varying scale.
And their method of solving those problems was brutally uniform: eliminate whoever caused them.
Though the World Government was not eager to incite excessive panic, a measure of fear was, in fact, useful for enforcing wartime control.
Thus, Major Rokossovsky—tasked with taking over Yokosuka City—had already laid down three clear directives for his men:
First, avoid harming civilians as much as possible. Allow hospitals to function normally, and permit citizens, once requests were made, to purchase daily necessities in nearby shops. Merchants were forbidden to refuse trade.
Second, disarm police officers. Execute anyone who refused orders, created disorder, or attempted to attack soldiers—including verbal insults.
Third, inform the local population about the origins and goals of the World Government. Make it clear that so long as they obeyed instructions, no harm would come to law-abiding citizens.
Yet judging by the scattered gunfire across the city, plenty of people still chose defiance.
Chief among them were police officers and gang members.
Besides, there were still plenty of unruly souls among the civilians.
Especially the younger generation who pursued ideals of freedom—because of their reckless actions, they too were gunned down by soldiers of the Auxiliary Corps.
Thus, though Major Rokossovsky had ordered his men to avoid unnecessary killing, in the span of barely a dozen minutes nearly a thousand people still lay dead.
Yet it was through those spilled lives and flowing blood that the citizens at last realized—this was no movie, no drill, no joke.
They had indeed been occupied by an army calling itself the World Government!
And so, the entirety of Yokosuka City finally fell silent.
Along the main avenues, black military trucks packed with soldiers poured out endlessly from Yokosuka Port Base.
Spreading out in all directions with the goal of seizing control of Japan as quickly as possible.
By this time, however, news of the situation in Yokosuka had already begun to spread.
After all, while phones and the internet had been cut, cutting communication alone could not halt the movement of vehicles or aircraft.
Especially not helicopters.
Because only the Ministry of Defense and the Ground Staff Office held that authority.
Due to the peculiar situation in which operational military command rested in the hands of the United States, and with communication to the various headquarters severed, Japan's Self-Defense Forces were unable to mobilize. This left the entire situation caught in a strange contradiction—paralyzed in the face of crisis, with no clear chain of command.
Even as word spread that Yokosuka Port had fallen to an unknown army, and public forums online erupted with discussion, Tokyo remained utterly inactive.
The surrounding US bases, as well as the Ground and Maritime Self-Defense Force installations, also sat motionless.
Only the police from neighboring cities around Yokosuka bustled to mobilize forces and investigate.
The result: they were met head-on by the Auxiliary Corps.
Under the baptism of heavy machine guns, submachine guns, and rocket launchers, they were reduced to clouds of blood mist.
The sheer magnitude of the violence quickly flooded the internet with on-the-scene photographs and even some blurry footage.
These confirmed, beyond doubt, that Japan had suffered a military invasion—igniting a firestorm across the web.
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