Chapter 361

Chapter 361: Tradition and Reality

Another scream echoed, followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground.

Calori had fallen.

Only an occasional groan escaped him; he wasn’t dead yet.

Bang, bang!

The counterattack at the alley entrance remained weak; a single handgun could not withstand the fire from so many people.

At some point, Bayu let go, and Nong Lan regained her freedom. She peeked out and saw Morta, who had twisted his ankle, still trying to shoot next to a dim streetlight, but it was all in vain.

Suddenly, several fist-sized black objects were thrown into the area, spinning erratically near the alley entrance. Nong Lan quickly ducked back.

Almost at the same moment, a series of explosions drowned out Morta’s desperate cries, shaking the ground beneath them.

What a fierce attack! They clearly had no intention of leaving any survivors. Nong Lan and Bayu looked at each other in shock; this meant the opponents knew the South Asian branch of ‘Eden’ very well.

Woof! Woof!

A few barks sounded from afar.

Voices outside the alley resembled those of police officers, and nearby, the wailing of police sirens could be heard.

“Two dead, one critically injured, sir. Should we finish him off or call an ambulance? We’ve already started sealing off the area.”

“Dela, let our ‘friends’ come to confirm.”

“Yes, sir!”

“No need to look anymore; they are just small fry! No value here. The big fish has gotten away.”

Bang!

“All set. Take the bodies away, let the clean-up crew wash the ground, and then search the area again. Lift the blockade afterward.”

“Understood, sir! Kack, you guys, follow me!”

The decisive and ruthless sound of gunfire made Nong Lan’s heart race. Bayu’s face turned pale as well. She struggled to get up, and together with Bayu, they crept cautiously deeper into the alley.

This was no place to stay.

In the darkness, a pair of glowing green eyes, probably a stray cat, made Nong Lan gasp in surprise several times, but Bayu quickly covered her mouth. The two of them, terrified, navigated through the twists and turns of the alley, moving deeper and deeper. Maybe Lady Luck was watching over them; they walked over an hour without incident, finally escaping the dark slum.

Ahead was the commercial district, and the bright lights felt like the light of heaven, warming Nong Lan and Bayu. As soon as they entered the commercial area, they could merge into the dense crowd, disappearing into the sea of people like fish in water.

“Hurry, we are almost there!”

“Yes, keep going! We will be safe soon.”

Nong Lan and Bayu encouraged each other as they rushed toward the light when suddenly, shadows enveloped them.

“What is this?” Bayu stumbled, pulling Nong Lan back just as she was about to blame him. She noticed red dots appearing on her chest, abdomen, and face.

They were laser sighting beams, with no fewer than ten dots aimed at them.

“What’s wrong? Not running anymore?” A figure clad in black armor appeared before them, cutting off their hope of fleeing toward the light. The full-face helmet concealed his features, and only amber-colored dots gleamed where his eyes should be.

In his hands, he held an all-black automatic rifle, designed to be non-reflective, equipped with an exceptionally long magazine, signaling to both of them that it was a highly powerful weapon capable of turning them into Swiss cheese at any moment.

Nong Lan and Bayu exchanged a look of utter despair, collapsing to the ground. It was obvious that these opponents were not Thai; Thailand could not possibly have such advanced and elite equipment. They were facing a group of even more terrifying individuals.

Sizzle! Sizzle!

Two strange whistling sounds pierced the air, and in the darkness, it felt as if two invisible waves shot toward them one after the other.

In the faint light, they could vaguely see two slightly distorted air trails rapidly dissipating, as if two transparent objects, roughly the size of fists, silently collided with Nong Lan and Bayu’s bodies.

Struck as if by lightning, both of them immediately collapsed to the ground.

“Are we going to die?”

This was Nong Lan’s last thought before losing consciousness.

A few figures wearing uniquely designed long guns and black night armor approached to inspect the outcome.

The gun barrels were not slender little round holes; they resembled teacup openings—broad, with small square mouths, about a meter long. They emitted a low tremor, and the illuminating command lights near the grips flickered weakly, indicating that the weapons were still operational. It was clear the energy consumed for the attack wasn’t from gunpowder.

Directional shockwave weapons?

…

“Please ensure that all passengers take their luggage and personal belongings, and proceed through the exit in an orderly fashion.”

Lin Mo stepped out of the Xiaoshan Airport terminal with his suitcase, taking a deep breath of the long-missed air of his hometown. After nearly fifty minutes of flying, he had arrived in Hangzhou from Shenzhen.

Upon landing at the Hainan aircraft carrier base, Lin Mo had narrowly escaped a kidnapping. Fortunately, Chen Haiqing appeared out of nowhere, rescuing him and heading straight to Haikou, where they enjoyed a big meal together and stayed in a luxurious suite.

Unfortunately, Lin Mo hardly got to enjoy the room’s amenities; instead, he spent the entire evening at the desk, copying alloy formulas, tallying thousands of them, much to Chen Haiqing’s delight.

When morning arrived, Chen Haiqing received a phone call and, for reasons unknown, ditched Lin Mo. He even borrowed some manpower from the local National Security Bureau and left on a military charter flight that same morning.

This guy had shown off his extraordinary abilities within just half a day’s time, leaving Lin Mo astonished.

However, Lin Mo wasn’t the only one abandoned; the unfortunate driver, Little Song, and the Mercedes business car were left behind in Haikou, becoming Lin Mo’s private vehicle.

Faced with his old comrade’s irresponsible departure, Lin Mo unapologetically commandeered Chen Haiqing’s business car and driver for two days.

Loaded with Hainan specialties and gifts collected during their journey in the South China Sea, they took a large ferry straight to Shenzhen to visit his aircraft design mentor, Professor Yan Guoqiang.

Seeing his close disciple pay an unexpected visit, Professor Yan was delighted to have guests in his home and spent a long time in high spirits.

As a seasoned expert in China’s aircraft design, who dedicated his entire life to fighter jets, Professor Yan rarely had anyone to converse with who could match his expertise. His son and daughter were busy with their own work and lives, leaving him without common ground for conversation.

The arrival of this cherished student allowed Professor Yan to find the perfect companion, pulling Lin Mo in for several days of intensive lessons.

As long as his old joints could still move, Professor Yan was eager to pass on all his knowledge to Lin Mo, fulfilling a lifelong wish after retirement.

Professor Yan was also very interested in the progress of Lin Mo’s “monstrous” aircraft, which was personally designed by his student, pooling the efforts of experts from several domestic design research institutes to create this super conceptual aircraft collaboratively.

At first, many experts involved, including Professor Yan, thought Lin Mo was just playing around like most newcomers in the field. They were surprised to learn that he had not only secured funding but also began to place orders for parts.

Moreover, only a few knew that Lin Mo had received national support, successfully resolving the hardest engine problems. If this information weren’t so highly classified, many related industries in the country would undoubtedly be fighting over those two F119-PW-100 vector-thrust engines.

Acquiring these two core engines meant that half of the fighter jet was complete, and with substantial technology and materials coming together, this “monstrous” aircraft, even if not reaching the terrifying parameters shown in the diagrams, still had exceptionally fierce performance.

In Professor Yan’s home, Lin Mo sketched the aerodynamic shape of the British supersonic unmanned combat aircraft, “Falcon,” that he had encountered over the South China Sea. For professionals in aerodynamic design, drawing was a fundamental skill. Whether it was hand-drawn sketches or computer graphics, one had to be highly proficient.

The multiple angle side views of the “Falcon” piqued Professor Yan’s interest. He even dug out some clay and, in no time, crafted a remarkably realistic model.

“Teacher, have you ever studied clay sculpture?” Lin Mo knew that clay sculpture was a craft, but looking at the scaled-down model of the “Falcon,” he realized that such fine work could only come from many years of practice.

Professor Yan rubbed the bits of clay off his hands and glanced at the astonished expression on his disciple’s face. It seemed he had just given Lin Mo quite a surprise. As a mentor, he felt proud to receive such reverence, and the feeling of being a role model intensified.

Professor Yan cheerfully adjusted his tools and said, “Oh, it’s just a little skill. Back in the day, when computers were not widespread, the closest thing we had to modern technology at the design institute was a small DEC machine. We couldn’t simulate calculations with computers, so we relied on an abacus for formula calculations, implementing crude methods from the ‘Two Bombs, One Satellite’ era, counting on human resources to get by. At that time, all our computer formulas came from the Soviets, leading to most of our fighter jets still carrying a bit of Russian lineage today…”

“Back then, we could only rely on physical scale models for testing, especially in aerodynamics, which required models. Many of these models were crafted alongside skilled artisans, using such primitive methods. We painstakingly created them by hand, heh, at that time, we didn’t even seem like aircraft designers; we were no different from bricklayers. We made models from both metal and clay. If you wrap this clay model in wax or something similar, leaving the injection and air inlet holes, it could be used as a mold. I’ve been honing this skill for seventeen years…”