Chapter 621

Chapter 621: Registration

Lin Mo shamelessly left Young Master Chen Haiqing hanging, and did not take Colonel Jiang back to Team 7759 on the WZ-12 helicopter. Instead, he arranged for the aerospace training center to send Colonel Jiang back using a small military transport plane.

Young Master Chen would surely be furious to see Colonel Jiang return alone. The "Abyss Nirvana" opportunity could easily slip away to someone else. It’s not just that the threshold for high-tech combat competitions supported by war is high; these days, it’s truly hard to find pilots who are both willing to risk their lives and capable of doing so.

There’s no such thing as a reckless pilot; they all go through psychological evaluations and annual reviews before being qualified, with reckless individuals unfit even for ground crew roles.

If Shenyang Aircraft Corporation and Chengdu Aircraft Industry Group found out, they would definitely be crying and begging Lin Mo for help.

So far, the only aerospace company aware of Lin Mo’s intention to participate in "Abyss Nirvana" is the National Defense Star.

Now that Lin Mo had returned on his own, there was no chance for Chen Haiqing to reach out to him, not with "Night," a location not even marked on military maps. Besides sending emails, Chen Haiqing had no way of contacting Lin Mo.

In reality, Lin Mo hurried back to the base for a more important reason. He received a notification from the intelligence department that several armed transport boxes had just arrived at the underground base of the "Night" Special Forces.

The military attache at the embassy, Major Mo, truly delivered. Lin Mo had struggled alone for a long time, not expecting the nation’s power to force Lockheed into submission; indeed, individual strength could not compare to collective strength.

At this moment, the Lockheed family was likely crying somewhere. Even though these were not complete fighter jets, the equipment still represented national strength.

The box piled up in the corner reminded Old Pan of the two F-22 engines Lin Mo had acquired previously. Had he stolen someone else’s treasure again? There was no way to use such a high-level transport method for anything less.

“Dare they open the box? Shoot them on the spot!”

Such harsh confidentiality rules made even the Aircrew Group members keep their distance from those boxes.

In response to Old Pan’s complaints, Lin Mo nodded casually. “Yep, fighter jet components!”

Then he walked over to complete the receipt. At that moment, the soldiers responsible for guarding the base finally lined up to leave. Although they all ate from the same pot at this base, these soldiers strictly adhered to procedures during their duties, regardless of who was involved.

Only then did everyone in the Aircrew Group exhale deeply. Having such a menacing formation present was not ideal, as it could affect their work one way or another.

Aviation units are typically not places filled with tension and vigilance.

“Fighter jet components? Again with the fighter jet components! You’re making it seem so serious. Anyone would think you stole F-35 parts,” Old Pan shook his head, turning back to receive the WZ-12 "private jet" that Lin Mo had brought back, a smile almost blooming on his wrinkled face.

Naturally, he was less interested in what was inside that box; even as the group leader, he didn’t have as much authority as Lin Mo.

In this military competition, Lin Mo had fought hard for numerous new pieces of equipment, and the leaders of several squadrons were grateful.

Lin Mo smiled slightly; while Old Pan’s muttering wasn’t entirely correct, it wasn’t far off. In fact, Lockheed had indeed taken apart F-35 components and created various cover-ups until those parts were secretly transported from America to China, allowing Lockheed to finally breathe a sigh of relief.

To eliminate this greater threat, Lockheed had to grit their teeth and agree to the demands of the Chinese.

When it came to Boeing, they had no fallback; historically, Lockheed had previously engaged in such dirty dealings with Boeing. Back then, Lockheed spent a great deal to quell the issue. Attempting to steal what they could ultimately led to little gain and left them covered in shame.

If Lockheed got caught a second time, they would be doomed. Once the power of the California Consortium behind Boeing surged, the Lockheed family’s backers would undoubtedly be gravely weakened. Moreover, the Ministry of Defense would not sit idly by, leaving Lockheed’s status as the world’s largest arms supplier uncertain. Being split apart like in the ancient torture of “Five Horses Dissecting a Corpse” would truly be a blessing.

Using a special procedure to open the confidentiality box, Lin Mo examined the contents inside.

There was an AN/APG-81 Active Electronically Scanned Array (AESA) radar, an Electro-Optical Distributed Aperture System (EODAS), and an Electro-Optical Targeting System (EOTS), all of which included installation detection tools, driver discs, and copies of the manuals, as well as a few minor spare parts.

“Gold Coin, let’s get to work!”

Lin Mo summoned his dedicated robot and used a towing vehicle to drag the semi-enclosed "monstrous" fighter jet to the work area, starting up the automated robotic arm.

There was still much work to do. The installation dimensions for systems like the radar varied, requiring adjustments to the original components. Additionally, he had to calculate the center of gravity, as a fighter jet wasn’t a toy; every gram of weight needed to be accounted for. Otherwise, if the aerodynamic balance wasn’t right, it could result in a disaster.

Even after installing these systems, Lin Mo had a major project ahead. He was not satisfied with the launch and reception module of the AN/APG-81 radar. Although technically superior to the AN/APG-77 used on the F-22, it still fell short in power and air superiority. After all, the F-35 radar system was merely enhanced for ground attack, not designed as a true air superiority aircraft.

The "monstrous" fighter also featured design characteristics of a comprehensive, all-purpose Chinese fighter, but it still couldn’t hide its lineage as an aerial killer. Thus, compensating for the AN/APG-81’s inherent shortcomings would require considerable effort from Lin Mo.

The small launch and reception module could still be purchased from domestic manufacturers. With some modifications to the signal transmission tray, an upgrade could be done. Whether in America or China, military equipment extensively uses modular design, which naturally leaves space for upgrades. The entire upgrade process for the radar took Lin Mo about a week.

With Gold Coin available, there’s no way he would produce anything of poor quality; it was as if the product had been crafted with high-precision machining. Even if someone from Lockheed Martin saw the radar system Lin Mo modified, they might not recognize it as the AN/APG-81 radar anymore.

There were components from Russia, locally made components from China, and parts from America. Lin Mo even managed to find important aviation components from France and the United Kingdom. Other parts from nations beyond the U.S. and Russia faced no restrictions and could be bought directly online; manufacturers did not care if the buyer was human or robotic.

As each module was assembled, Gold Coin’s operating system development and adjustments reached astonishing speed, matching that of a large programming team. With weak electrical and magnetic control capabilities, the gold giant dragon was as efficient as a large program development team.

Meanwhile, Lin Mo logged onto the secret server using the "Abyss Nirvana" ticket that Lockheed had provided him, completing the battle application and registering his flight code as "13"! China did not mind this number; after all, it resonated with expressions like "13 Protectors," and the number 13 phonetically resembled "ten birth,” which contrasted sharply with "nine deaths." As for foreigners, they could just deal with the headache of this unlucky Western number.

Within 24 hours of his registration, Lin Mo received updates on the combat information for "Abyss Nirvana." The battlefield was set in Syria, where the war was escalating. The Anti-Government Forces were continually receiving supplies from foreign powers, and their numbers were growing. It seemed this war would not see a ceasefire anytime soon.

Lin Mo could bring a team of thirty people, but only light weapons were allowed in the designated area. However, he only planned to bring Gold Coin; that was sufficient. With its splitting instincts, that creature could transform into a small strike team, and as long as it simulated tactical armor, who could tell if it was human or a special life form from another world?

The returning email included a web script to randomly select a faction: government army or Anti-Government Forces. Lin Mo casually spun the random wheel, and the result was government army, whether it was luck or manipulation, he could not say.

As a representative of the official force, Lin Mo’s opponents included other pilots who chose the Anti-Government Forces. Which side stood for justice or what their allegiance meant was trivial; this war was stirred up by international powers, and the parties engaged in conflict were simply pawns in a game. Both sides threw dirt on each other, while it was the common people who ultimately suffered.

Whether in victory or defeat, the common people bore the pain. Once soldiers stepped onto the battlefield, they carried bloodshed and crime upon their shoulders. Only the final victor had the right to declare justice. This law had remained unchanged since ancient times.

Old Pan lightly patted his slightly swollen eyes, having held a study session last night to analyze several foreign combat cases and discuss battlefield support and attack tactics under new situations. Although the meeting lasted until dawn, Old Pan still arrived early at the Aircrew Group’s hangar, as always.

After putting down the day’s work schedule, he began checking and organizing the tools that had not been properly stored the previous day.

“What’s going on? Who’s revving the engine so early?”

As usual, Old Pan poured himself a large cup of strong tea to wake himself up, but suddenly he heard a tremendous roar from the engines, accompanied by the distinct scent of aviation fuel wafting through the air.

However, he glanced around the hangar at the various parking spots; all the helicopters were present, and the ground-effect vehicle was there too. The P-51 Mustang fighter jet was accounted for; the small engines of the helicopters couldn’t create such a ruckus.

The J-18 reflected a silver-gray sheen under the light of the overhead mine lamp. Where was all this noise coming from?

Wait, what about that "monstrous" one? There was only one left.

“Eh?!”

Old Pan suddenly realized that one of the aircraft was a mock model that couldn’t possibly make any noise. Where had the other one gone?

Only now did he notice that the hangar doors were wide open, and the tremendous roar was coming from outside the hangar.