Chapter 189
Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW
You can buy coins here to unlock advanced chapters: https://gravitytales.com/coins-purchase-page/
Chapter 189: Covert War! Food Poisoning
Harming civilians is the ultimate limit of warfare for both sides, and the Indians were the first to break this taboo.
However, it was the Indians who were not pleased, and various social classes in their country were becoming restless.
In Kashmir, the small-scale skirmishes had left the Indians at a disadvantage, and their pent-up anger was understandable. They didn’t even entertain the thought of extraditing the sole surviving Tu-22M3 bomber pilot; capturing him would only lead to execution.
This prompted an uproar, and the sudden shift in public sentiment left several international powers hesitant to get involved. Those who had intended to reach in and grasp some benefits now found themselves at a loss—any interference could spell trouble.
In a war where faces have been torn apart, there are no existing interests.
This was not about whose fist is stronger but where righteousness stands; that’s where the advantage lies.
Anyone daring to act recklessly would immediately face collective retaliatory strikes; this was a rare opportunity.
Of course, the dealings between large powers and various nations had little to do with the Chinese military volunteers stationed at Peshawar Air Force Base. They were in a semi-mercenary status, focused solely on their jobs for payment.
Their lives revolved around fighting, killing enemies, testing new equipment, organizing intelligence, writing reports, and then counting their money.
After a series of chaotic battles, Azrael Squadron entered a resting phase, with other squadrons taking over the upcoming combat missions. The pilots, having been in constant action, faced severe fatigue and mental exhaustion. Some would even shudder in their sleep, dreaming of falling out of bed, mumbling about "dropping bombs" or "opening fire."
Full-load combat only applies to the army; high-tech troops must maintain a good mental state.
Fighters need maintenance, and experimental equipment needs adjustments. The losses from one battle can multiply by ten or even a hundred compared to ordinary training expenses.
Waging war burns money, and fighter jets are money-burning machines. If a pilot’s hand twitches and a missile launches, that’s equivalent to losing a mid-range sedan.
Even if they just flew a round without doing anything, it still costs as much as a Santana.
For nearly a week, the Persian Cat command center had not issued any task, leaving Lin Mo to hold the performance report, tinkering with the bank card, wishing for more chances to fight.
The roar of fighter jets taking off and landing had significantly decreased around Peshawar Air Force Base. Under the shade of five tall ginkgo trees, a few figures gathered, playing cards and chatting.
Bored in the air-conditioned room and unable to wander freely outside the base, any corner of the airport with trees turned into a relaxation paradise for the Chinese volunteer pilots, with several local Pakistani Lahore Persian wool carpets laid out as makeshift camping grounds.
"A pair of aces!"
"I have a pair of twos!"
"You lose, no cards. I said ‘gold coin,’ why didn’t you play a queen?"
"Uh oh, I feel bad, I have to go!" Suddenly, "Snow Fox," hiding under the shade and playing cards, frowned, clutching his stomach.
Pff!
A loud sound of flatulence made others cover their noses.
"What on earth is this?" "Meat Sauce" exclaimed, slapping his cards onto the Persian wool carpet, his face a picture of defeat.
Before "Meat Sauce" could turn things around, the lucky "Wild Wolf" suddenly made a hasty retreat to relieve himself, meaning recovering his losses was a distant dream.
"Gold Coin" also furrowed his brow, muttering, "I feel off too?! Oh no, I have to go." He dropped his cards but not before turning back and shouting, "Don’t peek! Wait for me to come back!"
"Uh! Are we not playing anymore?" Lin Mo was holding his cards, having lost a bit, but with a good hand in his grasp, just about to recover his losses when he saw two fellow players, "Snow Fox" and "Gold Coin," rushing off.
"Ugh! Damn it, even great revolutionary comrades need to take a leak!" Old Russian "Caviar," who was playing mahjong with "Gate God," "Earth," and "Wild Chicken," suddenly felt his stomach rumble incessantly.
"What’s going on? Did everyone eat something bad?" "Night Owl," leaning against the tree, put down his magazine and watched the fleeing figures, shaking his head in disbelief. It was disheartening to see such chaos during a rare moment of rest.
"Didn’t everyone have the same buffet for lunch? Oh wait! ‘Meat Sauce’ is the exception; he only had canned Meat Sauce with white rice and a bit of vegetables, nothing else." The "Gate God" from the CSAR Squadron tapped the mahjong tiles on the low table and yelled to "Night Owl," leaning against the tree, "Night Owl, we’re missing one for the game; ‘Caviar’ is here, come play a few rounds! If you lose, it counts for him; if you win, it’s yours."
Thus, the Old Russian comrade was unceremoniously sold out.
"I think something’s wrong!" The helicopter pilot, "Earth," flipped his hands, scattering a pile of mahjong tiles onto the table, pausing the game. He looked at the others, "Don’t you think it’s too coincidental? Those three had issues at the same time! All we have here are fruits; there’s nothing to make us sick."
His gaze shifted to another square table on a Persian carpet, covered with grapes, bananas, mangoes, coconuts, watermelons, and cantaloupes, along with a small refrigerator powered by solar panels, stocked with various drinks and ice cream.
These were ordinary foods, and they hadn’t eaten much. So the clues lay in lunch and breakfast. "Maybe it’s the local water and food, or maybe they caught a chill. Is there any evidence?!" Lin Mo could no longer continue playing, so he gathered his cards and placed them in front of him, showing no reaction at all.
…
Pff! A sound broke the silence, and "Earth’s" face turned an unnatural shade of red. He smiled wryly and shrugged, "I guess that’s the evidence."
Everyone rolled their eyes simultaneously; it was just nonsense! Another one had been hit.
Beep! Beep!
Suddenly, a ringing sound came from Lin Mo’s wrist. His radio, the gold giant dragon, changed shape again, looking like a thick bracelet. Normally, it worked as a watch, but with a twist of the wrist, it turned into a phone, appearing quite flashy.
In this world, technology similar to this was everywhere, so no one noticed anything unusual about the gold giant dragon’s new form.
"Hello!" Lin Mo adjusted the bracelet-like watch on his left wrist, flattening it until it transformed into a flat phone. It contained a special communication SIM card, which could be used in a normal phone but operated on a special military encrypted channel once identified by the equipment of service providers like Mobile, Telecom, and Unicom.
"Captain Feng… Yes, I understand. I’m fine; ‘Wild Wolf,’ ‘Gold Coin,’ ‘Caviar,’ and ‘Earth’ are all affected, but everyone else is temporarily fine…"
Lin Mo hung up the phone and glanced at the others, saying, "It’s food poisoning, non-lethal, massive collective diarrhea. It seems someone used poison."
Poisoning? And on such a large scale!
Goosebumps immediately rose on everyone’s skin. Thank goodness it was just diarrhea; if they had been poisoned with something lethal, they could have all been wiped out!
What would happen to the Peshawar Air Force Base if everyone suddenly died? How would they fight a war?
Everyone was chilled by Lin Mo’s words, feeling a coldness creep down their spines.
"Is this for real?"
"Wasn’t everything fine in the morning?"
"It’s true! The command center is paralyzed; everyone is scrambling for the bathroom!" Lin Mo sighed, embedding the phone back into his wrist. His break was likely being extended naturally again.
This was not good news for Lin Mo, who relied on shooting down targets to earn some bonus money.
…
For the first time at Peshawar Air Force Base, the bathrooms overflowed, requiring the installation of many temporary toilets. They quickly analyzed the source of the poisoning and sought ways to respond while urgently purchasing large quantities of anti-diarrheal medicine from nearby pharmacies.
It was such a troubled time.
After sustaining heavy losses from a surprise attack, they were now dealing with poisoning, leaving many personnel incapacitated. Thankfully, the meals for the guarding soldiers were prepared separately; otherwise, they would have lost their defensive strength entirely.
As a result, everyone would have to go a long time without fresh, warm food. Even prepared meals needed to be tested on animals first to ensure they were safe before they could be officially served.
As for the identity of the poisoners, they had only heard rumors that a few delivery vendors were caught; among those, one or two were seen again, while the others disappeared completely.
"Two Indian ‘Tejas’ have been spotted invading!"
After emergency medication, the Persian Cat command center, which was barely functioning again, sent out alarms.
Aside from a few lucky pilots who remained unscathed, most were still feeling weak and unsteady, unable to take to the skies.
Several armed helicopters quickly transported medicine and medical personnel for urgent treatment, and Peshawar Air Force Base managed to stabilize the adverse reactions from the food poisoning and resume basic operations in some departments.
The most affected were the pilots. Although the diarrhea had stopped, they were still unable to board their planes. Three Pakistani squadrons had been completely wiped out, and the Azrael Squadron, made up of Chinese volunteers, also suffered heavy losses. Even the strongest pilots couldn’t withstand this inexplicable special diarrhea-inducing medicine.
With the unique physique and resistance of the Dragon Knights, Lin Mo only felt a few rumblings in his stomach before returning to normal, while another lucky one, "Meat Sauce," avoided trouble due to his peculiar eating habits. He only consumed his own side dishes, avoiding most of the meals and thus escaping the fate that struck others.
In the Azrael Squadron, directly managed by the Persian Cat command center, the only intact unit was Team "Knights."
The two quickly received orders to board the prepared FC-1 Fighter Jet and soared into the sky.
