Chapter 670

Chapter 670: The Old Wolf Doesn’t Show His Might

“Hold on! Hold on! Destroy the important components first! I can’t hold out any longer. More aircraft are approaching!” A pilot from Mitsubishi Heavy Industries shouted during the battle, his helicopter’s doors wide open with heavy machine guns mounted, chasing after the Flying Wolf rotorcraft. Countless shell casings and deployable ordnance rained down like blossoms scattered by a celestial maiden, firing streaks of light as they shot out.

The jet engine of the Flying Wolf rotorcraft roared to full power, darting around like a nimble swallow, carefully avoiding the rain of bullets coming from the sky and the ground. Even if hit by one or two ordinary steel-core rounds of 12.7 millimeter, it wouldn’t penetrate the Flying Wolf’s special lightweight composite armor for a while. Even the cockpit’s windshield was made with unique materials and techniques.

This rotorcraft, designed for special missions, excelled in both design and performance, capable of carrying a considerable amount of weapons with abundant external attachments. Its combat capabilities surpassed those of standard armed helicopters, and it could even rival the WZ-12.

Another red beam shot through the air, catching White Wolf off guard. A long black scorch mark appeared on the surface of the Flying Wolf rotorcraft. If he hadn’t dodged quickly, he might have been struck open by that high-energy laser.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! The old wolf doesn’t show his might, and you treat me like a lapdog? I must show you some colors!” White Wolf, scared to the brink, yelled from the pilot’s seat, nearly driven mad. Did he really have to carry the shame of the highest equipment damage rate in all of China for five consecutive years every time he participated in a battle?

Thinking of a chance to reinvent himself, White Wolf instead found himself possessed by the bad luck spirit. In his evasion, bullets from the ground forces rattled against the armor of the cockpit, even bouncing onto the rotor blades.

The external rocket pod retaliated fiercely, severely damaging the position from which the high-energy laser beam had been fired, turning it into a raging sea of flames.

If it weren’t for the strict regulations of the organizers of "Abyss Nirvana," limiting jet fighters in such salvage operations, this would have already turned into a medium-scale, high-intensity land and air battle.

The various armed forces gathering near the crash site of the "Mental" fighter all possessed lethal strike power, with extremely high combat efficiency. Battles often resolved life and death within just a few exchanges.

Screams echoed across the sand dunes, and the thick smell of blood blended with the acrid scent of gunpowder.

“Poor bones strewn along the riverbanks, still dreaming of spring in a boudoir.”

The fierce combat attracted more and more forces like a pack of wolves smelling blood.

The immense battle losses severely impacted the morale of the Japanese forces. If they faced another total defeat, not only would Mitsubishi Heavy Industries suffer, but even Japan’s Self-Defense Forces would be seriously weakened, likely missing several upcoming "Abyss Nirvana" international pilot death matches.

The Japanese, who barely kept up with Yasha, were the first to buckle. The ground forces had no choice but to retreat westward under the cover of the last two armed helicopters.

They could no longer secure the wreckage of the "Mental" fighter. Although they attempted to demolish the remaining fragments with explosives, the important body parts had already been firmly secured by the Chinese, who had struck first.

They weren’t the worst off. A group of unidentified armed personnel had been wiped out during the crossfire between the Japanese and Chinese forces. When the last person fell to the ground, no one knew the fate of these unknown souls.

The "Demon Hunter" team’s sniper, Huang Quan, calmly picked off opponents one by one, achieving flawless results with his large-caliber sniper rifle. The combat effectiveness of the elite unit from the central special forces was fully displayed; each person shot with god-like precision. In ample supply of ammunition, the combined force of four was equivalent to a battalion, like the most professional harvesters of human lives, reaping one soul after another.

With the Japanese retreating, the battlefield suddenly quieted down. The two other factions that had joined in were promptly swept away by the quartet led by Yasha with overwhelming strength.

“‘Asura,’ go clean the battlefield and finish off the wounded. ‘Huang Quan,’ you keep watch. ‘Jiu Du,’ come with me to pack up! ‘White Wolf,’ don’t wander too far. If you spot any enemies approaching, shoot first and ask questions later.”

As Yasha walked toward the charred remains of the "Mental," he drew his pistol and casually shot at the other armed personnel lying on the ground, moaning and unable to fight back.

Blood spattered continuously as his shots exploded on the heads of the injured, taking one life with each bullet. His expression remained unchanged, as if he wasn’t killing humans but merely bursting countless jars.

Anyone wanting to play in this kill zone must have a death wish; it was a place more perilous and ugly than war itself. The "Abyss Nirvana" organizers could only guarantee the game rules for participating pilots, while others could only hope for their fortune.

Due to the extreme efficiency of the "Demon Hunter" team, they didn’t consume too much ammunition while clearing the battlefield. Old soldiers are always favored by the logistics team.

Having practiced for this situation multiple times already, they formed a load-bearing net to gather the recovered main body fragments and quickly tied them up, taking only seven minutes.

During this time, White Wolf, piloting the Flying Wolf rotorcraft, used a high-explosive shotgun blast to intimidate a bold small force that had tried to approach, ruthlessly discouraging other factions that were ready to move.

Hundreds of finger-sized steel balls rained down, turning the sand dune into a river of blood, and several armed militants fell lifelessly, not a single one escaping such a horrifyingly large-scale slaughter.

Seizing the short period of time during which the other forces were stunned, Yasha took the opportunity to call back the Flying Wolf, loading it with the large remnants of the "Mental" fighter. The others then leisurely grabbed the ropes that had been thrown down from the sides of the Flying Wolf rotorcraft and climbed aboard the hovering rotorcraft.

Once onboard, Yasha and the others immediately mounted heavy machine guns and sniper rifles at the doors to cover White Wolf as he piloted the rotorcraft, quickly ascending to escape the dangerous area before the other factions could react.

“These Chinese! Ah! Baka, baka, baka…” In a hangar at the air force base in Aleppo, the Japanese team leader, resembling a crazed tiger, did wild slashes with his samurai sword, destroying everything he could see in a frenzy.

A few engineers and technicians from Mitsubishi Heavy Industries cautiously hid in the corners, afraid of being caught in the chaos.

The usually polite and disciplined Japanese exposed another extreme in the face of an unacceptable situation, losing their reason and descending into madness and self-destruction.

They couldn’t even enter the intermediate tier. Both personnel and machines were lost, and all accumulated points turned into mere decorations. The Japanese military’s plan to speed up its domestically produced fighter development was indefinitely delayed.

Before and after the battle, Japan lost to the Chinese. Thinking about this outcome, the high-ranking officials in Japan could only bitterly swallow their frustration and disappointment.

…

“Morin, I found some strange information.” Half an hour ago, a professional intelligence dealer sold Sally a peculiar piece of information. Although it didn’t hold much value, its oddity prompted Sally to pay a small commission of fifty thousand dollars.

“Strange? What is it?” Just arriving at the mission center, Lin Mo hadn’t even consulted the tournament staff when Sally hurriedly stopped him. Sally was surrounded by a group of Dragoon Federation administrative personnel. She had rushed from Afghanistan to support Lin Mo and hadn’t completely let go of her business management, so she brought along a commercial management team to handle both business and support.

“There’s someone who, just like you and me, has been betting on you from the very start and hasn’t missed a single match.” The information Sally obtained was perplexing.

In a sea of opportunities, who was it that took such a firm interest in Lin Mo? It was puzzling, as only someone very familiar with Lin Mo would behave this way. However, Lin Mo hadn’t mentioned any other friends betting here, and she hadn’t seen any strangers closely interacting with him in the past few days.

The Chinese military didn’t lack money; they only needed technology and equipment and wouldn’t come chasing after a little money. So who could it be? Why were they so fixated on him? Although Sally felt no sense of danger, she was very interested in confirming the identity of this person through Lin Mo.

Upon hearing Sally’s news, Lin Mo was stunned. He found himself equally perplexed.

Could it be Shenyang Aircraft Corporation? Chengdu Aircraft Industry Group? The National Defense Star? Or perhaps his own Special Forces?

That didn’t seem right. If someone familiar came from home, they should at least give him a heads-up. As for the opposing “Eagle King,” it was even less likely that Yuri would place bets on a stranger like a Chinese pilot from the very beginning.

“Here are the photos of those who bet with us!” Sally pulled out a stack of pictures.

That fifty thousand dollar commission turned out to be quite worthwhile, as even the mysterious bettor’s appearance had been captured.

“Oh?!” Lin Mo couldn’t help but glance again at Sally, genuinely surprised at how well this Afghan Pashtun girl had done her intelligence work—perhaps even better than the domestic intelligence department.

If one took it seriously, the domestic intelligence department had strong investigative capabilities; however, for just a tournament like "Abyss Nirvana," they wouldn’t allocate more resources and manpower specifically to provide Lin Mo with independent intelligence support. Therefore, Sally’s information gathered from various professional intelligence organizations seemed more comprehensive.

The person in the photo was someone Lin Mo had never seen before.

Suddenly, Sally pointed in one direction and whispered in surprise, “Hey! Look, it’s them! They’re placing bets again!”