Chapter 665

Chapter 665: Queen! Queen!

"Get lost! The farther away, the better! If I see you again, I’ll take your life!" Lin Mo said with a dark expression.

"Y-yes!" Vladimir scrambled away, not expecting this Chinese pilot to be so terrifying. Was he a pilot or a god of death?!

When he finally reported back to his boss, he would make sure to settle the score together later.

Vladimir glared at Lin Mo from a distance, filled with resentment.

"Sally!"

"Uh?!" Sally’s gaze towards Lin Mo changed, as if she understood what he wanted to say.

"Help me take care of him, quietly," the Dragon Knight said. He was never one to trust crafty enemies to back down just because of a threat; it was better to believe a pig could climb a tree.

"Take care of him? I’m in!"

The voice of Yasha came from nearby; the fellow unexpectedly slipped out from the hangar.

Sally glanced at the leader of this Chinese elite unit, then shifted her gaze back to Lin Mo, waiting for his decision.

Lin Mo paused for a moment, looking at Yasha. Did this guy want to provide extra help? But then he heard Yasha say, "Don’t worry, I’ll handle it cleanly, but you need to reimburse me for Yuri’s medical fees."

Clearly, he was a meticulous planner. This was definitely a way to cover his tracks while using the opportunity to make amends.

"Alright!"

Lin Mo nodded. Any soldier from the Demon Hunter squad had combat strength that far surpassed any special forces member. Pulling off an assassination would be as easy as a daily meal, done without anyone noticing.

"Hehe!"

Yasha grinned, watching the stumbling figure disappear into the distance.

…

Marina Ivanovna struggled to lift her eyelids. Her dim and blurry vision began to clear, as if she had been asleep for a long time.

A pretty girl wearing a white veil appeared in her line of sight, watching her intently.

"Ah!" Marina Ivanovna’s eyes widened suddenly, as if startled, she sat up quickly, scanning her surroundings with wide eyes before returning her gaze to the girl, asking, "W-where am I?"

The immense pressure from her family’s huge debts, life-and-death struggles in the air, and Vladimir’s threats had exhausted her body and mind. After Lin Mo’s Light Shield impact knocked her out, she lost consciousness for a full 24 hours.

"This is the air force base in Damascus!" Sally smiled slightly at the prisoner Lin Mo had captured.

"What? No, I need to go back!"

Marina Ivanovna tried to stand up.

"Don’t rush!" Sally stopped her, smiling as she said, "You don’t need to go back!"

"What?" Marina Ivanovna was taken aback. No, she had family; she couldn’t stay here.

"Don’t worry, your family is fine!"

Sally seemed to sense the turmoil in Marina Ivanovna’s heart.

"Family?!"

Marina Ivanovna stared blankly at Sally, feeling a sudden unease. How did she know about her situation? Was she falling back into a trap?

Sally said, “Don’t worry, I’ve already made a deal with your boss. You no longer need to worry about your family’s debts! All you need to do now is to rest well and work for me!”

The air force in Gem Valley definitely needed an ace pilot, and she was very satisfied with the gift from Lin Mo.

… An hour ago.

“Mr. Number 13, isn’t it a bit rude to take out my subordinate without permission? Even if you find him unpleasant, you should have at least given me a heads up.”

A white man in a white suit sat before Lin Mo, puffing his cigar and blowing smoke rings. He seemed unconcerned about the death of one of his henchmen as he confronted Lin Mo.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Lin Mo’s expression remained blank. Yasha’s efficiency was impressive; he hadn’t expected the task to be completed so quickly. However, after dealing with the dog, the owner had come knocking.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter if you deny it, but you do need to return my pilot and the MiG-35.”

The white-suited man was unfazed by Lin Mo’s denial. Some matters didn’t require evidence; to him, the life of a subordinate was worth less than a dog.

“Not a chance! That’s my prisoner and my trophy!”

The Dragon Knight stood firmly by his principles. Getting Lin Mo to give up his prize would be quite a challenge.

“Number 13, I warn you! You could have shot him down, but you didn’t; this is a violation of the match rules. You are provoking the authority of Abyss Nirvana!”

The white-suited man spoke with righteous indignation, trying to represent the organizers of the Abyss Nirvana competition. He was deliberately leveraging the situation.

He had investigated the background of this “Number 13,” who seemed to have connections to the Chinese military. Even if his own organization was powerful, it could not go against a nation. Bringing in the Abyss Nirvana organizers could apply some pressure.

The white-suited man’s voice was loud enough for half of the mission center to hear.

He then added provocatively, “Hmph! You are so reckless; I wonder who will support you! You should be punished more severely and compensate all the bettors!” His proud gaze swept the room, as if standing among a crowd of supporters.

This “Number 13” had not only cost him a large sum of money but had also made him a target for other bettors.

Due to this tie, all the gamblers who bet on either side had lost some processing fees. If added up, the amount was considerable. Isolating Lin Mo and applying pressure would surely make him bow, even with his connections to the Chinese military.

Retrieving “Joan of Arc” and that MiG-35 was the most important task. Perhaps he could even extort a hush money from the opponent.

Hmph, he’s still green!

The white-suited man chuckled coldly to himself.

“I support you!”

Suddenly, an out-of-place voice offered opposition.

“Oh! Yuri!” Lin Mo, who planned to put the white-suited man on the death list, was surprised when his neighbor, Yuri from Australia, stood by him and contradicted the white-suited man.

Anyone who was able to place bets here was not of ordinary means, and those who could bet more than a billion dollars were more powerful than general billionaires. Challenging such a wealthy individual indeed required considerable courage.

Lin Mo couldn’t help but look at Yuri with newfound respect.

“You!” The white-suited man’s expression turned vicious. This declaration of support was like a slap in the face.

“I support you too!”

Suddenly, a black pilot stepped up behind Lin Mo, looking at the white-suited man with a provocative demeanor.

“I support you!”

“And me!”

“Count me in!”

“I support Number 13 too!”

…

An astonishing scene unfolded as one pilot after another stood beside Lin Mo, glaring at the white-suited man.

It seemed that the real target of everyone’s wrath was not Lin Mo, but the white-suited man who dared to accuse Lin Mo of breaking combat rules and demanding punishment.

“I support you too!” Sally stood unwaveringly by Lin Mo, glaring at the troublemaker. After all, she was a dominant force herself—wealthy, powerful, well-connected, and well-armed. She was not to be bullied, and a battle-hardened Pashtun was not someone to fear.

A few powerful figures didn’t seem to care about the trouble and decided to join in.

“You! You guys!”

The white-suited man, having been metaphorically slapped from all directions until his face was bruised, stood up in a rage, unable to keep his balance.

The momentum was overwhelming; he provoked one person, and a whole crowd jumped to defend him. How could they band together like this?!

He could never understand the honor of the aerial knights.

On one hand, he forced his pilots into danger while also withholding ammunition; this would be a disgraceful slaughter.

On the other hand, all pilots shared a proud knightly spirit. Pilots were perhaps the last to hold onto this spirit in the world. This tradition had continued from World War II, through the emergence of combat-oriented aerial knights.

Even if captured, pilots would not be intentionally mistreated. Even those voluntarily entering the Abyss Nirvana international pilot death match accepted the risk of dying in battle, while Vladimir’s oppressive behavior toward Lin Mo’s fellow pilots was chilling and crossed every line.

Moreover, as “Joan of Arc” belonged to the Anti-Government Forces, being captured by the government army, this inherent enmity gave many of the government army pilots in the mission center a sense of identification with Lin Mo.

To retrieve both a person and a fighter jet was far more miraculous than shooting down an opponent; it was simply too cool.

“Good! Good!” The white-suited man panicked, dropped his half-smoked cigar, and glaring at Lin Mo said, “You wait; you will regret this, hmm….”

“This is the money that Joan of Arc owes you; I’ll pay for her! I warn you not to target Joan of Arc and her family. Don’t think that just because you’re the shadow boss of Sahatan, you can do whatever you want. I’m not someone to mess with either.”

Sally threw a signed check onto the white-suited man, her authoritative presence as the supreme queen of the Dragoon Consortium radiating confidence. Continuing with an imperious tone, she said, “If you want a fighter jet, have the MiG people come to me! Now, I don’t want to see you again. Get lost!”

The white-suited man, having had his identity exposed, glanced between Lin Mo and Sally before quietly picking up the check and leaving in a huff with his henchmen.

Once the pilots united, the pressure would likely force even the organizers of Abyss Nirvana to back down.