Chapter 656

Chapter 656: What You Can Kill, You Can’t Bury

The roof leaked, and it was pouring rain. Tom felt extremely unlucky.

His eyes turned red instantly.

Death was so close; he had never encountered such danger even in Libya.

That little brat!

He was so contemptuous; how infuriating!

After being repeatedly hit, Tom was stirred by his fury and let go completely, flying his fighter jet and engaging head-on with the Forward-Swept Wing Fighter Jet repeatedly.

The bullets in the sky crisscrossed as the two fighter jets engaged in a deadly battle.

With most of the single vertical tail’s function lost, while this prevented the fighter jet from performing many tactical movements, the experienced Tom knew how to operate in a way that could barely compensate for some aircraft performance. However, it was ultimately much more time-consuming and exhausting than being in perfect condition.

At this moment, Tom had already exhausted more than half of his stamina; extreme climbs and dives had consumed a significant amount of his energy.

The X-1 Forward-Swept Wing Fighter Jet was like a festering wound, finally revealing its most ferocious side.

Cannon, still cannon.

Flames shot out, making the EF2000 Typhoon dash wildly amidst the rain of bullets. The super-maneuverability of the Forward-Swept Wing Fighter Jet held a significant advantage in this close-quarters combat.

Employing a custom-point firing mode, the X-1 didn’t waste much ammunition, perfectly meeting Lin Mo’s precise cannon needs.

This unique point-firing setup not only had been applied to Lin Mo’s previous J-10 but was also in use for the current J-18 and the "monstrous" aircraft, as well as for future production models like the J-14 and J-20. For Shenyang and Chengdu, there was no need for overly complex modifications to fulfill the varied needs of different pilots.

Lin Mo was reluctant to expend his close-range air-to-air combat missiles; his opponent clearly was a pauper. Even if he took him down, he would earn only 20 points for the kill, at best just enough to cover the cost of fuel.

Using missiles would be a huge waste; the cheapest close-range air-to-air combat missile also cost 5 points. How could Lin Mo waste missiles on this pauper? He focused instead on using cheap cannon ammunition to engage him.

The points he earned could only be exchanged for necessary supplies like ammunition and fuel, and nearly all usage rights belonged to the country. Even if National Defense Star wanted to exchange for something, they had to apply to the military and wait for approval before Lin Mo could redeem any technology and equipment when he advanced to the intermediate tier.

This was the right and obligation earned through free sponsorship; everyone took what they needed.

There’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world. If Lin Mo weren’t earning valuable "Abyss Nirvana" points, the military wouldn’t waste precious resources on him.

“Die for me!”

Tom fixed his gaze on the Forward-Swept Wing Fighter Jet and pressed the launch button of the already activated close-range air-to-air combat missile.

The close-range combat missile, filled with all his resentment, was launched with a faint white trail, heading straight for Lin Mo’s X-1 Forward-Swept Wing Fighter Jet.

He realized the opponent was unwilling to waste precious missiles on him but only wanted to deal with him using the cannon.

Even so, the opponent’s incredibly precise cannon attack skills made him flustered. He wasn’t a Kamikaze pilot and didn’t want to die before achieving victory, so he had to use all his skills to dodge the opponent’s cannon attacks at various angles.

With its unstable aerodynamic design, the EF2000 Typhoon kept performing strange maneuvers in the sky. However, Lin Mo, who was very familiar with this aerodynamic design, gradually tightened his grip.

The close-range combat missile launched at the X-1 Forward-Swept Wing Fighter Jet posed no threat at all; by slightly banking his wings, he successfully induced the close-range combat missile to detonate a hundred meters away at the five o’clock position of his aircraft. The shrapnel from the nearby blast didn’t even have the capability to penetrate the Flowing Wave Heavenly Transformation Magic Circle on the surface of the X-1.

The attack was completely pointless; it didn’t even qualify as a threat.

Tom gasped as he watched the opponent casually shake his wings, and the close-range combat missile detonated harmlessly nearby.

The opponent’s aircraft remained intact.

Moreover, this was the result of his own assistance from the external laser radar for guided targeting; the opponent could easily evade the limited attack angles of the EF2000 Typhoon, making precise targeting nearly impossible.

He still had one missile left; what was he going to do now?

The close-range combat missile was designed for a range of 10 kilometers, but achieving 8 kilometers in real combat was already impressive. For a Supersonic Fighter, 8 kilometers was almost a matter of seconds.

Such an opponent was truly troublesome.

The series of explosive sounds, like rain beating on plantain leaves, snapped Tom back to reality.

A fierce barrage of bullets directly hit the Typhoon’s body, causing Tom, who was inside the cockpit, to be violently shaken, nearly knocking him senseless. Countless metal fragments flew outside the cockpit, and the flames erupted instantly, casting a red glow throughout the cockpit. A terrifying crack stretched from the back of the cabin to the front, nearly cutting through the entire cockpit.

In an instant, the control stick lost all feedback, most of the indicator lights went out simultaneously, and the aircraft fell into chaos.

The entire Typhoon was torn in half mid-air; when aerial knights fought, one lethal strike often decided the victory or defeat in just a second or two.

Once again brushing with death, Tom’s face changed drastically, and he seized the ejection switch without hesitation.

The goddess of luck could not support him repeatedly.

With only one air-to-air missile and some cannon ammunition left, Tom had lost his ability to confront Lin Mo, and defeat was just a matter of time. However, Tom still failed to find an opportunity to turn the situation around.

The pilot’s seat, along with the shattered cockpit cover, shot out rapidly from the broken front half of the aircraft. Tom felt his head get hit hard by something, and fragments that splattered during ejection cut a gash on his fiberglass helmet.

This was it. The loss of this specially made EF2000 Typhoon would surely lead to his being kicked out of the Royal Air Force, eliminated from the novice tier, which would be utterly humiliating. He might even become the disgrace of the Royal Air Force, forever nailed to the column of shame.

If his gaze could turn into a laser weapon, Lin Mo and his fighter jet would have been shot down from the sky countless times by now.

The two halves of the aircraft exploded in flames, with ammunition detonating and fuel igniting, creating two fireballs in mid-air. The ejection seat was almost swept up by the massive fireball, rising dozens of meters high before starting to descend.

The ejection seat separated, and a pure white parachute blossomed in the sky.

“Damn bastard, I curse you to hell.”

Tom, hanging under the parachute, struggled to pull out his self-defense pistol, planning to shoot at the Forward-Swept Wing Fighter Jet that was circling around his parachute, seemingly showing off.

If luck was on his side, he might hit that brat and bring him down.

Tom was truly infuriated by this “Number 13.”

Just as he managed to pull out his standard issue self-defense pistol, the parachute suddenly swayed. Tom looked up and was instantly terrified.

The parachute couldn’t escape either; it caught fire, and the wind helped the flames spread rapidly, with the synthetic fabric catching fire more fiercely, likely having been touched by burning fragments from the aircraft.

“Poor kid!”

Lin Mo, sitting in the cockpit, shook his head, showing no intention of going to rescue him.

Rescue?! Lin Mo would just make a quick turn of his wings and slice the opponent in half.

Using the Light Mirror Technique, Lin Mo had already seen that persistent guy trying to shoot at him with a pistol.

"Handle the kill, don’t worry about the burial!"

The X-1 returned back to the Damascus air force base on its own.

“Hey! A pauper!”

In the mission center, Lin Mo indeed checked the points he had just earned, which amounted to only 20 Basic Points. The opponent had nothing left, clearly targeting him deliberately, a desperate last stand.

Now, Lin Mo’s ranking had risen to the 65th in the government army faction and 111th overall, with 3 kills, successfully advancing to novice tier seven.

With just two more opponents defeated, Lin Mo would squeeze into the intermediate ace tier, and his sponsors could use points to redeem what they wanted.

“What’s wrong?”

Sally, playfully stirring her hair from under her headscarf, stood beside Lin Mo like a little bird leaning on him.

“20 points! The other guy was clearly intent on fighting me to the death.”

Lin Mo looked up at the ranking board; that British John Bull’s name was now gray with a death mark next to it. At such a height, with a flaming parachute, even a rhinoceros would turn into mush when falling.

Lin Mo remembered the altitude when he shot the opponent down, about 5400 meters; the British John Bull had lost another ace and was likely stomping his feet in some corner.

Needless to say, Lin Mo’s deeds at the Aleppo Tal Shegheib air force base against the Anti-Government Forces provided them with countless reasons to deliberately target him.

“Bring it on!”

Lin Mo smirked slightly, his thoughts racing. After a moment, he turned to Sally, who was quietly standing beside him, and asked, “How much have we betted to win?”

Sally held up two fingers.

“Twenty million?” Lin Mo looked at her questioningly.

The Persian girl shook her head.

“Two billion?”

Sally still shook her head, her expression clearly holding annoyance, as if she thought Lin Mo was playing a joke on her.

Before Lin Mo could speak again, Sally blurted out the answer: “Two hundred and twelve million dollars.”

“Aren’t you saving a little for yourself? Keep some capital?”

These two billion came so lightly, Lin Mo couldn’t help but feel exasperated. He truly wasn’t cut out for making money. After only a short time, this Afghan girl who liked to stick to him had saved up such a large sum.

Despite his struggles, he had earned less than her. If he had known, he might as well have brought Sally as a "monstrous" sponsor; she would surely have agreed.

“No!” Sally said firmly, looking directly at Lin Mo.