On the Eve of the Great Flood, I Bought a Decommissioned Soviet Warship

In the third year of the apocalypse, the sea receded.

The outlines of once-submerged cities emerged from the water like ruins, and survivors stepped off their boats onto the muddy earth. Espers, warlords, politicians from the old era, and newly formed religions all fought over this “new continent.”

Zhou Chen stood aboard the decommissioned destroyer he had hauled back from Russia three years ago, gazing at the distant horizon.

The naval gun he had installed at the bow had fired 730 rounds. It was time to replace the barrel.

Someone behind him reported, “Chief of Staff wants to know: should we land on the mudflat up ahead, or wait for orders?”

Zhou Chen didn’t turn around.

“No more waiting.”

Three hundred and thirty-seven months of loan payments, 470 crates of ammunition, and 2,300 conscripts.

He had survived from the first year of the apocalypse to the third, not so he could wait for orders.