Chapter 673

Chapter 673: Unity is Strength

"Who are they?"

Yuri stared blankly at the nonsensical conversation between the two white men and Lin Mo, unable to comprehend.

“‘Yuri’!” Lin Mo turned to the Australian ace and said, “Some things are best left unasked. I advise you to forget everything you just saw and heard, or you might get into danger.”

For some reason, Lin Mo’s expression and tone made Yuri’s heart tremble inexplicably. Did he just witness something serious?

But there was nothing particularly strange about what he had seen.

Lin Mo’s warning was absolutely correct. If Boeing and Lockheed discovered clues about Adam and Lion Star 4 being here, it would bring great trouble to Yuri from other forces, even if the Australian government intervened for protection. At least for now, the Australian military still depended on Americans to procure F-22s to arm their Air Force.

“Oh!”

Yuri was still bewildered but chose to trust Lin Mo and did not press further.

“What did you want earlier?”

Lin Mo shifted his focus away from Adam’s troubles, confident that with Gold Coin watching, nothing major would occur.

The gold giant dragon was the natural enemy of intelligent life and completely restrained that type.

“Oh! I almost forgot, some fellows are waiting to meet you.”

Yuri glanced at Sally and felt no sense of rejection. He thought to himself that this Chinese pilot was really lucky to catch the attention of such a beautiful rich girl. It was a case of different fates; if it were him, he would be clingy as a stubborn plaster, trying every means to win her over. Each time Yuri saw this Persian beauty, he felt a pang of envy.

Sally did not follow Lin Mo and Yuri to meet the other pilots. Instead, she made an excuse, pushing Lin Mo back into a more relaxed state.

Yuri would find several pilots gathered in the task hall, engaged in enthusiastic conversation. It seemed that pilots from all over the country easily formed small groups to chat.

Aerial knights of the same profession always found common ground, and when they saw Yuri bringing someone over, their chatter paused as they curiously observed the Chinese pilot beside him.

“Hi, everyone! Let me introduce a new ace, ‘Number 13’ from China. Although he has just been promoted to the intermediate tier, I can assure you that during his time in the novice tier, he proved his worth to me as a true ace.”

Yuri seemed well-liked among these people; he clapped his hands to draw everyone’s attention before continuing to introduce Lin Mo.

Aces were very popular here, and the addition of a powerful ace could enhance the entire team’s combat strength.

Familiarizing each other would greatly aid in forming a tacit understanding during team battles in the intermediate tier, maximizing their combat effectiveness.

After introducing Lin Mo, Yuri pointed at a Black man and said, “This is ‘Spear’ from Sweden, with an F-15 Eagle as his ride.”

A muscular man wearing a tank top, whose attributes leaned more toward machine gunner than pilot, flashed a wide smile at Lin Mo, revealing a set of neat white teeth, and raised his juice cup, “Hi! I’m ‘Spear’!”

“This is ‘Raccoon’ from Canada; he built his own model. It doesn’t have a specific name, but he calls it ‘Little Cutie’. Well, ‘Number 13’, you’ll understand when you see it; it is definitely a little cutie!”

Yuri continued introducing Lin Mo.

A slender pilot with freckles approached Lin Mo, saluted him, and said, “‘Number 13’, your skills are great!” He gave Lin Mo a thumbs up.

“This is ‘Peregrine’ from Saudi Arabia, also with a self-built model, and his fighter is called ‘Sandstorm’!”

Yuri pointed to a man dressed in a headscarf and robe, with a scruffy beard. It seemed he kept a casual attire during non-combat times.

In Saudi customs, gestures like Yuri’s pointing were considered impolite, but as introductions among friends, ‘Peregrine’ seemed unfazed and smiled slightly at Lin Mo as a greeting.

“This is ‘Tank’ from Italy, flying a modified Typhoon fighter. Its variable swept wing has undergone interesting improvements."

“This is ‘Monkey’ from Iran. Um, ‘Number 13’, I must clarify that monkeys do not exist locally in Iran; this is just a code name, so don’t get the wrong idea. But don’t underestimate our ‘Monkey’; he has shot down eight planes and flies an F-14, which is a modified technology test aircraft. He is a real combat pilot for Northrop Grumman’s verification aircraft.”

“Lastly, it’s me, ‘Yuri’. You know me. Let’s give a warm welcome to our new member!”

Yuri had a knack for lifting the mood, and his few words immediately made Lin Mo feel part of the group. Cheers rang out, and he casually poured Lin Mo a glass of juice.

Among pilots, especially the men, there was always plenty to talk about.

They were a loose team, unconcerned with nationality, ethnicity, or politics, bound only by the shared goal of survival.

In war, personal heroism belongs only on the silver screen, while the harshness of reality compels everyone to seek out companions, uniting to share experiences and abilities, becoming shields for each other, and using collective strength to carve a bloody path to survival.

These pilots kept an eye on their peers, especially focusing on air combat videos from every battle. Newbies and veterans alike meticulously studied each one, replaying them repeatedly to analyze the pros and cons of both sides.

Researching the air combat skills of both allies and enemies was the most important task for pilots in their spare time.

If they could gain insight, it would greatly enhance their abilities, impacting their lives directly; who would dare be lazy?

Outside of “Abyss Nirvana”, these pilots had no opportunity to watch such videos.

Many believe that the brotherhood on the battlefield is merely a product of reality. Even though the sponsors behind these pilots treat them as disposable tools, no pilot would easily throw away their own life. Once they step onto this battlefield, their fate in combat should be in their own hands, not manipulated by others.

Therefore, every pilot who returned alive from “Abyss Nirvana” seemed like they had taken advanced courses at top universities, significantly improving their air combat skills.

In the “Abyss Nirvana” competition, if a military pilot could be promoted to any of the three high-tier pilot ranks, they could easily secure a colonel rank in an elite flight squadron in their home country.

In smaller countries, they might even become squadron leaders or even Air Force commanders.

Even if a civilian pilot emerged as a dark horse, surprisingly climbing to high-tier status as long as their background was clean, they too could be recruited by the military with generous benefits.

Future prospects, money, honor, and challenges became the driving forces for all contestants beyond merely surviving in battle.

…

Seven uniquely shaped fighter jets flew brazenly in formation over Syrian airspace, with less than twenty meters between them, allowing each pilot to see everyone and their aircraft in the cockpit.

“Abyss Nirvana” carved out a significant self-claimed airspace in Syria, forbidding Syrian aircraft from entering, designated for pilots participating in duels and daily flight training, preventing the Syrian civil war from spilling over into this airspace and causing unnecessary trouble for the competition.

This was one of the few times the team fully mobilized. Yuri, as the captain, had only coordination power and no command authority; everything was voluntary. Participation and opinions were entirely free, with no one judging others, creating a harmonious atmosphere within the team. Even pilots of different nationalities, beliefs, and customs felt no sense of constraint.

Such a conspicuous formation may have been the best target in combat; for now, however, they were merely practicing basic adaptive coordination as a new member had just joined their loose team.

“Brothers, let’s try the devil’s formation!”

Yuri was extremely satisfied with “Number 13”’s teamwork. Lin Mo’s every positional change fit seamlessly with the other pilots, as if they had rehearsed countless times beforehand.

As long as they were not civilian pilots, air forces around the world placed great importance on teamwork and made it a fundamental subject for pilots.

“We have seven fighter jets; are we sure the devil’s formation isn’t too difficult?”

Raccoon’s voice came through the radio, and his concern was not unwarranted.

On the outdated Doppler radar, the six-jet devil’s formation showed only one dot; this signified the density of the six jets, which were merely three meters apart, with a height difference of only 0.5 to 1 meter and a speed of 200 meters per second.

A slight misstep could trigger a terrible chain collision, akin to dancing with demons; this posed a significant test of each pilot’s coordination.

A six-jet devil’s formation could only be attempted by exceptionally skilled pilots, and seven jets?! Well, even a madman wouldn’t dare to do that.