Chapter 47

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Chapter 47: Thunderous Might

The night was deep within the worn canvas tent.

Muhammad Magee, the leader of the "Holy War National Liberation Army," chuckled and suppressed his laughter, carefully pulling out a small metal box with a combination lock. Every night, whenever he had the chance, he would open it to check, otherwise, he wouldn’t sleep soundly.

Though the box was old, its paint chipped and scratched, showing signs of countless hardships, the corners that had been touched many times glinted with a strange sheen.

As usual, Muhammad Magee grinned widely, revealing his uneven yellow teeth, and lifted out thick stacks of US dollars, along with gold bars and gems.

He would never easily let his subordinates see this; otherwise, it would certainly attract greedy eyes and trouble. This was a precious wealth he inherited from the previous unfortunate leader, who had met his end after taking a hit from a shell during an operation, almost losing half his head. Otherwise, Muhammad Magee would not have discovered such a rich treasure hidden within the seemingly dilapidated "Holy War National Liberation Army."

Compared to the troops and equipment outside the tent, this treasure was his true foundation. As long as he wished, he could easily recruit a whole team just like he had now, or even stronger.

In the small tribes scattered across the wilderness, there was only desolation, poverty, and ignorance. As long as cash was available, he could easily recruit men who would fight for food and pretty women. Just give them guns, whip them, and each of them could become a good marksman.

The "Holy War National Liberation Army" was merely Muhammad Magee’s cover, selling dog meat while hanging a sheep’s head. The so-called holy war and nation were all about raw interests. In fact, he didn’t particularly want this title; wouldn’t "Muhammad’s Guerillas" sound better? However, someone needed this name to be able to operate.

It was those so-called “agents,” who didn’t even know from where they had come to deliver guns and money, who might have some good intentions towards him.

Yet, Muhammad Magee understood it was merely mutual exploitation. “They” needed him to do dirty work, while he needed money—a lot of money. The people and weapons outside were just tools for him to earn.

Having recently struck a big deal, Muhammad Magee considered whether he should replace the old, worn-out guns in his squad and hand them over to the poor shepherds in the mountains. He thought about purchasing new grenades and getting a few women for his men to enjoy.

Only by expanding his ranks could he earn more money. He wasn’t like some shortsighted guys who only cared about immediate benefits.

Fifteen kilometers away, at an altitude of eleven thousand meters.

The navigation coordinates indicated that they were approaching the target area. The J-10 rapidly descended through the clouds below, and darkness enveloped everything; the cloud cover obscured the sky, hiding any trace of light. The J-10 maintained a fuel-efficient flight speed.

With the ground cloaked in darkness, if it weren’t for the satellite confirming the coordinates, Lin Mo would have thought they hadn’t arrived or had passed it by. Even in a different world, aerial missions were rare, given the lack of effective night vision methods.

Lin Mo activated the Light Mirror Technique again, struggling through several attempts before finally managing to form a small light mirror just big enough to transmit a glimpse of the situation below. While flying above the clouds, he started gathering light elements, as moonlight was still light, just a reflection of the sun. Even though it was weaker than daytime, it was better than nothing.

Lin Mo unwrapped two military chocolates and popped them into his mouth as a pre-battle energy boost. Flying a fighter jet was a tiring task, and the bitter taste of high-purity cocoa, enhanced with ginseng saponins, penetrated his throat, quickly invigorating Lin Mo.

"Communication chain password verified; operational information link established!" Lin Mo heard the combat computer’s response in his headset. At this moment, he felt the J-10 he was piloting had come alive as a real weapon.

"Operation begins!" Lin Mo heard a cold, menacing voice in his helmet, like steel wool scraping glass. It seemed the ground troops had been positioned and were just waiting for Lin Mo’s J-10 to fire the first shot.

Lin Mo gently activated the fire control system!

The low-light TV feedback showed thirty or so tents of different sizes arranged fifteen kilometers ahead, along with eleven large trucks and a few off-road jeeps. The entire camp was shrouded in darkness, with only three or four armed men wandering around in long robes, likely serving as sentinels. There were also many cattle and sheep in the camp.

As the light mirror shifted, over sixty heavily equipped, well-trained personnel in black clothes were crouching low, encircling the camp in a half-moon formation. Approaching a closer range, they set up two light machine guns from the west and north.

These individuals were likely members of China’s special forces, who must have realized the J-10 had entered the operational area, yet they had made no moves. Little did they know, their every action was already in Lin Mo’s sight.

The timing was perfect. Lin Mo quickly accelerated into a supersonic state, and with a loud bang, the J-10 broke the sound barrier.

The speedometer showed: 1.7 Mach! The powerful overload did not bring any discomfort to Lin Mo; instead, he felt an exhilarating thrill.

He aimed to surprise the target before the engine roars reached them. The J-10’s nose, resembling a black round cap, pointed at the camp as it dove down, launching a barrage of flares from the left and right rocket pods. In a single breath, twelve rockets with bright tails screamed down.

"What’s that sound?" Muhammad Magee, still rummaging through the dollars in the tent, suddenly sat up straight and perked up his ears.

A low rumble echoed from the sky, and suddenly a flurry of lights appeared above. The camp’s sentinels looked up, startled. Before they could react, the twelve rockets had already crashed into the camp, causing a massive explosion that sent up a fireball and created a fleeting, pale white shockwave that toppled nearly half of the tents.

Screams filled the camp as the sounds of chaos followed the explosions, with gunfire erupting like popping beans, and the previously soft engine sounds of the late arrivals echoed ominously above.

Lin Mo gently pressed the button to fire the cannon, and the aircraft shook as three or four bright dots shot out from below the J-10. Using the camp’s firelight as a guide, he accurately toppled one of the tents, instantly shredding an armed man who was only halfway out with a deadly barrage of 23mm rounds, the blood mist visible beneath the fire’s glow.

A 12.7 mm anti-material rifle could tear a person apart, let alone the 23mm cannon rounds. Lin Mo was cautious and didn’t shoot carelessly; he only had 200 rounds in total, and a few reckless shots could leave him empty. What kind of fighter jet would it be without ammunition? Kill with sound waves? It could be worse than a paper tiger.

Muhammad Magee swiftly stuffed all the scattered valuables into the box on the sheepskin rug, snatched up a revolver, and peeked out of the tent. Just one glance nearly scared the life out of him.

It was a massacre!

The camp was in disarray, explosions erupted continuously, while the giant roar of the fighter jet circled above. The cannon boomed like death reaping lives, as tent after tent was tossed aside, and those who couldn’t escape became splatters of blood on the tent fabric. The cacophony formed a morbid symphony of death.

"Damn it!" Muhammad Magee didn’t care about gathering his men anymore, rushing back into the tent, cursing as he hurriedly grabbed the metal box, leaving everything else behind. Using the shadows cast by the firelight, he dashed out.

It was over; it was all over. The "Holy War National Liberation Army," which he had painstakingly built up, was completely wiped out tonight. He didn’t even plan to find his trusted allies. Muhammad Magee decisively abandoned everyone, slipping away under the cover of night.

One was in the sky, the other on the ground. With just those automatic rifles and small arms, they were no match for a jet fighter. The bullets wouldn’t even keep up. What could they do? They should just wait to be annihilated.

The chaos in the camp escalated. The sudden overwhelming firepower from Lin Mo’s surprise attack had nearly shattered the enemy. Yet more armed men charged out, firing their automatic rifles wildly at the sky. Lin Mo steered the J-10, skillfully dodging the fire from the ground. Without anti-aircraft machine guns, those small-caliber bullets would only harmlessly ping against the aircraft, leaving shallow dents on the surface.

The J-10 quickly performed an Immelmann turn, climbing to three thousand meters before leveling off again. Even when attacking the ground, Lin Mo was extremely careful. Only someone with his physical prowess could endure such high-G maneuvers. Even if the plane fell apart, he would feel no discomfort. Compared to riding a Giant Dragon, the fighter jet was far more comfortable—similar to a noble girl’s plush little carriage.

Just then, a beam of light shot into the camp, creating a bright dot the size of a finger on a truck full of supplies. In the pitch-black night, it stood out remarkably. Lin Mo was startled; the ground special forces were using laser guidance. He quickly banked and rolled while releasing a Thunder LT-2 laser-guided bomb.

The domestically-made Thunder LT-2 was a high-quality imitation of the Russian KAB-500L, with a payload of 500 kilograms. As it detached from the J-10, it automatically adjusted its tail fins, locking onto the laser-targeted position on the ground.

The J-10’s bomb-drop maneuver was nearly a low-altitude toss as a dark shadow descended from the sky, followed by a tremendous explosion that generated a pale shockwave, sweeping vigorously through a one-hundred-meter radius. The vibrations reached up to five kilometers, unmatched even by the destructive power of heavy artillery over 150mm caliber.