Chapter 658

Chapter 658: In the Name of God

How the broker Lackel, who raked in a huge commission, would escape, and how the South American tycoon would take revenge on this scammer, that was another story.

However, the consequences of this battle did not end there.

“Oh God! It’s ‘Number 13,’ how, how could it be him? What now? We’re finished, we’re dead.”

The list of duelists for the next battle was released immediately, and Marina Ivanovna felt utterly hopeless.

She had already reached novice tier level seven, with a total of four opponents shot down. If she could bring down just one more opponent, she would advance to the intermediate pilot group, meaning she could finally pay off her family’s debts.

Perhaps in the intermediate group, she could even take down another opponent and earn a large sum of money, maybe even pay off all her debts.

But just a little bit more was needed, and fate had other plans. Her next opponent was the deadliest fighter in the novice tier, one who could leave skilled intermediate ace tier pilots bruised and battered and was practically guaranteed to advance to the intermediate ace tier—“Number 13.”

Not only was the hope of promotion slim, but her life was also in grave danger.

“What’s wrong, ‘Joan of Arc’? Has your next opponent been revealed?”

A tall white man appeared behind her, wearing large sunglasses and sporting a stern expression, his face covered in fat, with a beak-like nose that made him look menacing. But the voice belonged to someone else behind him.

An old, short, chubby man with small gold glasses waddled out from behind the tall man, his eyes gleaming with a lewd glint that made Marina Ivanovna feel disgust.

He was neither her colleague, nor her superior, and certainly not her friend; he was a horrible supervisor.

This old man, who wanted to take advantage of her at every chance, was the reason. If her family hadn’t gone bankrupt in business and lost a lot of money, forcing her to avoid her creditors to prevent her loved ones from wandering the streets, the Ukrainian rising star pilot Marina Ivanovna would never have accepted this high-risk "job" and fought in the “Abyss Nirvana.”

Only this way could she quickly save a large amount of money to solve her urgent family needs and prevent her younger brother and three sisters from drifting and hiding from creditors along with their elders.

Most pilots, unless they were brainless or had ulterior motives, would never easily abandon a life of comfort for that of outlaws. The organization had targeted Marina Ivanovna for her air combat skills and her urgent need for money, pulling her in as a pilot.

To get this job without worrying her family, she had lied, claiming she found a job training agricultural spray plane pilots, and came to war-torn Syria.

“He’s been revealed!”

Marina Ivanovna, with the flight code “Joan of Arc,” couldn’t help but take a step back, rudely saying to the old man, “You! Stay away from me.”

“Who is it? My little ‘Joan of Arc,’ uncle will help you, dear little ‘Joan.’ Do you need your uncle’s comfort?”

However, the old chubby man, Vladimir, didn’t step back; instead, he moved closer, reaching out his trembling, fat hands to hug Marina Ivanovna closely, also checking the development of the girl’s figure, ensuring that the damned pressure suit didn’t crush her.

“It’s ‘Number 13!’”

Marina Ivanovna didn’t hide her disgust, stepping aside and quickly moving next to the tall man to use his sturdy frame to avoid the old man’s sleazy actions.

The tall man remained motionless, like a statue, allowing Marina Ivanovna to use him as a shield.

In fact, she knew this guy named Sergei was a stiff, stubborn blockhead. Despite his fierce appearance, he wouldn’t do anything inappropriate unless ordered by the boss. Compared to this old man who wanted to get her into bed, Sergei seemed much safer.

“‘Number 13’? That annoying guy! He must be at novice tier level seven like you, waiting to advance to intermediate, right? Oh, little ‘Joan,’ you’re in big trouble,” the old man mused, scratching his barren chin with a smirk.

Suddenly, he squinted at Marina Ivanovna, saying, “My little ‘Joan,’ can you take him down? Honestly, there’s extra bounty on him. If you can shoot him down, at least you’ll be able to clear all your family’s debts.”

“Vladimir, I’m telling you, he’s not an easy opponent. I don’t have complete confidence. Just because I haven’t seen him use close-range missiles doesn’t mean he won’t. On the contrary, he hasn’t faced an opponent worth using them against.”

Marina Ivanovna, hiding behind the tall Sergei, made a face at the short old man.

As long as she was careful, this old fool couldn’t do anything to her.

“Really? Little ‘Joan,’ this guy is indeed tough. It would be such a pity if you died at his hands. But don’t worry, even if you die, your family will still receive a large sum of money, and your debts will be paid off quickly. By the way, you’re still a virgin, right? Why not indulge a bit before you die? It would be a pity not to have tasted a man’s touch. You know, virgins go to hell. Come here, your Uncle Vladimir will guide you.”

Old Vladimir continued to leer at Marina Ivanovna, completely indifferent to who her next opponent was.

That “Number 13” was one of the top pilots in the high-tier ace group, designated to face off against U.S. Air Force Colonel “Eagle King.” Little Marina Ivanovna would likely not survive long in her next battle. Better to indulge beforehand rather than leave regrets.

Belly protruding, he lunged at the young pilot, saying, “Don’t worry! Uncle Vladimir is very skilled. Just a little pain, yes, just a bit, and you’ll soon enjoy the pleasures of paradise. Trust me, you’ll like it. Come on, baby, Sergei, you stupid oaf, what are you standing there for? Step aside or I’ll have the boss fire you.”

Sergei, behind his large sunglasses, rolled his eyes disdainfully at the lewd old man, acting as if he hadn’t heard anything and remained still, serving as a shield for the young Ukrainian girl.

Clearly, he didn’t have a good impression of the old man either.

The Ukrainian pilot was as agile as a swallow, dodging left and right. The physique of a pilot wasn’t just for show. The chubby old man Vladimir chased her for a while but couldn’t get near even the hem of her clothes, exhausting himself in the process.

Finally, Vladimir sat down heavily, panting like a bull, one hand on his old waist while pointing at the young pilot Marina Ivanovna hiding behind Sergei and threatening in a breathless voice, “Little ‘Joan,’ Marina! Hmph, we’ll see about that!”

He took out his phone and dialed a number, partially covering his mouth while whispering, occasionally glancing up at Marina Ivanovna and nodding as if confirming something.

The call ended quickly, and Vladimir sneered as he hung up, glaring at the young pilot, saying, “I warn you, in the next battle, you’re not allowed to refuse to fight; otherwise, hmph, you know what that means, your family won’t have good fortune either.”

Unable to achieve his aim, Vladimir resorted to the despicable tactic of threatening her family, forcing the pilot to comply, but he didn’t dare use such methods to force her into bed. The boss would surely have his skin for that.

“You bastard!”

When Marina Ivanovna heard the old man threaten her with her family, her face flushed with anger, like a furious mare. She pointed at him and scolded viciously. If it weren’t for the fact that this old man was a representative of the organization she worked for, she would have charged at him and kicked him to death.

The words of his threat after the call made Marina Ivanovna feel utterly miserable. Tears quickly filled her eyes, realizing he was abandoning her, pushing her to her likely death despite knowing she had no confidence in winning.

That participation bonus and death compensation clearly were just a payout for her life.

This damned death match could be bet on, and Vladimir’s boss must have placed a heavy bet on her.

The answer was obvious: they were betting on her losing!

For an organization with deep pockets, her life was worth little compared to a MiG-35. A sizable bet could easily turn a profit.

And they were just middlemen for the Russian MiG-Glievich aircraft manufacturing company. They didn’t care at all about the lives of the participating pilots and their bad reputation, as long as it came with the euros.

“Lovely little ‘Joan!’ I await your good news.”

Give in, break down, self-destruct, fall from grace—Vladimir hoped her mental defenses would completely collapse. At that point, she would probably not refuse to let him take advantage, and tonight would surely be wonderful.

“No, I won’t lose! I won’t die!”

The stubborn Ukrainian girl was ignited with incredible fighting spirit, gritting her teeth and saying, “I will survive, return to my mom and dad, and live well with my younger siblings! I will definitely take down ‘Number 13’! In the name of God, he is finished!”

Vladimir was left dumbfounded, silently cursing that things were going terribly wrong.