Chapter 669

Chapter 669: Battle Arena

"Commonly known as picking up scraps! Haha," Yuri chuckled awkwardly, then explained to Lin Mo, "It’s actually about grabbing the battle debris you shot down!"

If it weren’t for his neighbor’s presence, he would have sent his men to snatch those fragments. Despite looking like burnt scraps, they contained alloy formulas and some intact Electronics, which, in the hands of professionals, could lead to key technological insights. Even if the core technology couldn’t be restored, they could assess the performance of the fighter jets and special techniques, allowing his country to formulate corresponding countermeasures.

Amateurs focus on the spectacle, while experts see the intricacies. Once these fragments fell into the hands of industry leaders, the hidden knowledge behind them would be revealed.

"I see!"

Lin Mo nodded, still somewhat skeptical. To him, there was no need to expend so much effort searching for scraps. A simple tap of a Gold Coin on any fighter jet could almost instantly unveil most of its secrets.

The domestic J series, Su-27, Su-47, F-22, along with the newly acquired MiG-35, were all influenced by the gold giant dragon, providing Lin Mo with a vast technical repository, which was the foundation for his "monstrous" fighter jet’s swift development and launch.

Beep!

The collar of the "Dragon General" tactical armor emitted a sound indicating a communication request.

"Connect!" Lin Mo used his voice to approve the call. This was a backup system, and he had a mini-communication system on his wrist, so he didn’t need to wear a helmet to communicate.

"Number 13, this is Yasha. You should have returned by now."

The voice in the communication channel was that of "Yasha," mingled with sounds of gunfire, explosions, helicopter rotor noise, and various shouts. It was unclear who the "Demon Hunter" team was fighting in their hurried departure.

Yasha’s voice remained calm, showing no concern for being in the midst of battle.

"I’ve arrived. Are you going to grab scraps?"

Lin Mo confirmed that Yasha and his team were indeed, as Yuri said, busy looting.

"Scraps? Uh, well, for you, they definitely are scraps. It’s good that you’re back. Let me check in — no worries, we’ll be back soon. Bang! Ugh! It’s a bit chaotic here; we’ll talk when we return."

Even though he personally led the team, Yasha remained dutifully concerned about Lin Mo’s safety.

The communication channel was filled with loud explosions, perhaps indicating they were quite engaged. Once Yasha confirmed Lin Mo’s safe return, he hurriedly ended the call.

"It seems they’re really fighting over aircraft debris!"

Yuri didn’t understand Chinese, but he could hear the strange noises coming from Lin Mo, with explosions and gunfire clearly audible.

"Exactly!"

Lin Mo nodded. This matter wasn’t his concern; whatever they grabbed wouldn’t end up in his possession. He was only responsible for killing, not burying, and any other unrelated interests would naturally be handled by Yasha.

"You should first go to the mission center to learn about the intermediate tier’s detailed rules. Later, I’ll introduce you to some good friends; I think you’ll be very happy to meet them. Soon we’ll be able to fight together!"

Yuri gave Lin Mo a thumbs-up, eagerly anticipating his real involvement.

In the novice tier, the combat mode mostly consisted of one-on-one duels, while the intermediate tier allowed for team battles.

Every month, pilots from the intermediate tier would draw lots to participate in a death team fight alongside pilots from the high tier and special tier, making it an incredibly thrilling experience.

Yuri had initially tried to sweet-talk Lin Mo and proposed the no-ammo challenge to gauge his abilities, assessing whether this "Number 13" pilot could effectively team up with him in combined warfare.

The results of the assessment were unexpected; Yuri found himself completely outmatched, leaving him delightfully surprised and eager to form a closer bond with Lin Mo.

When Lin Mo had disputes with others, Yuri didn’t hesitate to stand by his side.

Having a well-connected and strong fighter pilot as a friend meant he could become his best comrade, quickly cultivating synergy and enhancing battle readiness.

The friendship with an ace pilot was far more important than winning three consecutive matches.

On the battlefield, having an ACE-level comrade not only symbolized victory but also represented an extra life. While every participating pilot possessed a certain awareness, being able to breathe freely under the sky was always a beautiful thing.

If Lin Mo could not successfully advance to the intermediate tier and fell in the novice tier, then this story would not exist. To become Yuri’s companion, mere luck is not enough.

…

In the southern desert of Syria, the flames of war wove through the air.

"These little devils can’t just give up quietly, can they? Wouldn’t it be better to admit defeat? They really have to come here to seek death. What a waste of organs that could sell for a lot of money," Yasha complained in a chilling voice, firing his automatic rifle with one hand to suppress the enemy. Occasionally, he whipped out his tactical pistol to target the nearest opponent. In his eyes, the enemy was no longer human; they should be sent to the dissecting room for their organs to save those in greater need, instead of decaying here into useless piles of bones and rotten flesh.

With each shot from Yasha’s gun, enemies rolled down from the sand dunes, silent and still.

His rich combat experience allowed Yasha to navigate through the barrage of bullets as if strolling in a garden, ensuring that every shot hit its mark. He was not in a hurry to pick up the fragments; he wanted to eliminate these nuisances first.

As the foes swarmed in, Yasha had only one greeting for them: sending them to hell. While firing, he urged every friendly combat personnel via radio to give it more power.

To Yasha, the wreckage of fighter jets scattered across the area looked like piles of red money. Anyone who tried to take it from him would be his mortal enemy. If he didn’t eliminate these enemies today, he might as well change his code name to "Fool Fork."

An armed helicopter noticed this fierce warrior during aerial combat and immediately focused its fire. A series of rising columns of sand forced Yasha to roll down the sand dune to avoid the attack. He spat out the dry, gritty sand and shouted, "Asura! Knock that fly down from the sky! White Wolf, are you asleep? Move faster!"

Before Yasha’s voice faded, a faint white smoke rose from the ground and shot into the sky. A small laser-guided missile struck the helicopter attacking Yasha, creating a massive fireball that lit up the sky, reminiscent of a grand scene in aerial combat, as huge metal fragments rained down.

To Yasha, the foes that poured in like flies drawn to honey were all weaklings with combat power of only 5. He had to hurry back to cook for Lin Mo. Otherwise, that pilot would surely eat something random again. Can high-nutrition energy bars replace real meals? It’s simply nonsense. The pilot’s body is a valuable national asset and must not be wasted; a balanced diet is essential.

Yasha was extremely worried about Lin Mo, who remained at the Damascus Air Force Base.

"Yasha, you Glan! Do you think I’m playing a game? I’m fighting hard here too!" White Wolf shouted back over the radio, maneuvering his Flying Wolf rotorcraft through the hail of gunfire, the warning sounds of being locked on by ground or aerial weapons ringing in his ears.

The cockpit shook violently as the aircraft narrowly dodged a straight red high-energy beam shot from the ground. Damn, even the mini laser cannons are in play. The Japanese have revealed all their cards. White Wolf immediately retaliated with a volley of 12.7 millimeter high-explosive rounds.

The on-board threat alert system conducted nearly a full-power scan, locating every threatening weapon. Especially when it targeted the Flying Wolf, it would send warnings to the pilot.

The Flying Wolf darted like a slippery eel, weaving through the rain of bullets, avoiding every shot.

This skill almost matched Lin Mo’s.

Such fierce combat invigorated White Wolf; this was the life a man should lead.

The Flying Wolf deployed a series of infrared heat flame bombs, triggering an ambush air-to-air missile. He then used a rocket bomb to blast a non-Japanese armed helicopter into a fireball before occasionally firing at some armed personnel on the ground, including the Japanese, causing great sprays of blood to erupt.

The Japanese, who accurately knew where the wreckage would land, were no longer the same. They never expected to encounter such a fierce opponent. Facing the elite unit of the Demon Hunter team, they were left with only their slaughter.

Hitting every target was a fundamental skill for every Demon Hunter soldier. Four helicopters carrying nearly 40 armed personnel were just deployed to the ground when three of them were instantly eliminated by the three Demon Hunter soldiers led by Yasha.

The powerful weapons specially designed by the Chinese military for elite units were causing terrifying damage. Even with bulletproof vests, they were of no help; the battlefield was littered with torn and unrecognizable corpses, blood soaking the parched sand.

The four helicopters belonging to Mitsubishi Heavy Industries were no match for the more agile Chinese Flying Wolf rotorcraft. After the battle began, half of them were shot down one after the other, increasing the pressure on the remaining Japanese soldiers.

At the crash site of the Shen Shen fighter jet, there were at least four factions exchanging fire, making it impossible to describe the scene with just one word—chaos. It had almost turned into a human slaughterhouse.