Sky-cracking Rider

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"The old man was a good person, mourn with moderation."

Squadron Leader Chekhov, temporarily released, stood beside Chen Fei, well aware of the relationship between the old man and this young fellow.

This guy finally sobered up, and upon opening his eyes, found himself unexpectedly in the Solitary Confinement Room. Remembering the absurd things he'd done, he didn't complain. Compared to being able to return alive, spending a few days in confinement was nothing.

Drinking was a must, as for the future... let destiny take its course.

Humbly admit to mistakes, but never repent.

"Hmm!"

Chen Fei responded with a sound.

The flames grew fiercer, and billows of black smoke rose up.

Chef Abel came over, one arm in a sling, but otherwise not seriously hurt. It had just been dislocated during last night's battle and had just been set back in place. He wouldn't be able to exert much force for ten to fifteen days. He patted Chen Fei's shoulder with his other hand.

"Mourn with moderation!"

Then came the maintenance chief, Xiao Ming, several mechanics, followed by the pilots from the "Genuine Fragrance" squadron.

They all came by to give Chen Fei a pat on the shoulder.

The last one, however, was Hanna Gagel.

"Mourn with moderation!"

Even after a careful wash and a change of clothes, the woman executive manager still had a faint smell of alcohol on her.

She took control once again, and the daunting 911 Aircrew Base seemed to find its backbone, stabilizing once more. Although she, like Squadron Leader Chekhov, had drunk herself into a disappearance, it was still better than rashly seeking the enemy for a bayonet fight.

"Thank you!"

Chen Fei nodded.

After burning for more than an hour, the fire gradually subsided, and all the bodies had been turned to ash.

Not all the ashes were completely incinerated. The people in charge of collecting the ashes used entrenching tools to crush the thoroughly burned bones into even finer pieces and then gathered them into earthen jars.

Chen Fei did not leave this task to others but chose to do it himself.

He carefully gathered Old Master Barut's final remains in this world, sealed the jar meticulously, wrapped it thoroughly in cloth, and then, still holding the hot jar, walked out of the base without a backward glance, raising his hand to beckon.

The "Blood Spike" lying by the firepit whooshed into his hand.

System: Ding! Unknown alloy found, 112.531 kilograms. Absorb? Yes/No｜?

No!

The old man had no living kin, lonely and alone in the world; where he died, he would be buried.

Outside the Aircrew Base, he found a sunlit slope and dug a large hole with the "Blood Spike." He placed the jar containing the ashes at the bottom of the hole, filled the soil and compacted it, forming a burial mound, and scattered grass seeds. He then split a rock plate, and the sharp "Blood Spike" effortlessly etched deep marks on the surface of the stone.

Here lies Neanderthal warrior Barut. May he rest in peace, **** year * month * day. Inheritor: Chen Fei. Erected by

"Old Master, rest in peace!"

Chen Fei took out a bottle of fruit wine brewed by Barut himself. He drank half the bottle in one go, taking a long breath of the alcohol, and after touching the bottle against the stone grave marker, placed it down.

Picking up the "Blood Spike," he got up and left.

System: Ding! Unknown alloy found, 112.531 kilograms. Absorb? Yes/No｜?

Yes!

The "Blood Spike" in his hand rapidly shrank and became smaller.

System: Ding! Energy Points +1

Individual Information:

State: Larval Form

Physical Energy: 12/12

Burst Strength: 57/60

Fullness: 90%

Active Time: 110 hours

Energy Points: 12/5000

My Skills:

1. Metal Devouring

2. Eyes of Tyranny (Consumes 1 energy point, duration 15 seconds, cooldown time 15 seconds)

3. Physical Evolution Database (3), Category: None/Management...

4. Secret Technique: Fight to the Death

5. Basic Optical Observer Level 2: Low-light Enhancement (Level 3 requires 100 energy points)

Management -> Create New Category "Cold Weapon," creation successful

Physical Evolution Database (3), Category: Cold Weapon (3)/Management...

Task List:

1. Devour 1 ton of metal, receive +1 energy point (daily task)

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2. Dance with missiles for a cumulative 18 seconds/60 seconds, and maintain graceful postures to gain +200 energy points.

By the time Chen Fei returned to the Aircrew Base, he had already organized his system.

He moved some personal items from the dormitory into the shanty where the Energy Tower was located. Old Master Barut had left behind many things, not only the Secret Techniques he had personally passed on. Since there were no relatives, everything now rightfully and legally belonged to him.

There wasn't much stuff, about a hundred thousand in Star Yuan cash. Aside from a small number of personal items, there were about a dozen boxes, roughly five to six hundred pounds of various canned meats, some unidentifiable animal claws and teeth, about ten gems of not particularly high quality, colorful and likely collected casually as souvenirs.

The majority was alcohol, over a thousand bottles of different brands of liquor, and about a hundred pounds of home-brewed fruit wine, with about ten pounds nearing the end of their prime flavor period.

There was a set of fermentation tanks and distillers, extremely well maintained, shiny and spotless. There were over a hundred pounds of unused distillers' yeast. Following the old man's drinking habits, it would probably last a year or two.

There were countless empty bottles, the remnants of years of drinking, which could now conveniently be used for bottling new wine.

After the Target Low Temperature Nuclear Fusion Energy Tower was shut down, it no longer emitted heat or provided the necessary electricity for lighting, resulting in poor lighting inside the shanty. Additionally, a drunken Manager Hanna had carelessly sliced through a large area of vegetation with a Wind Blade.

Even though Chen Fei took great care of it, even going so far as to remodel the steel structure shanty, replacing the dented iron sheets and nearby glass bricks with translucent recycled glass to let in as much natural light as possible,

the plants inside the shanty were still wilting and languishing after two or three days.

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The parent company of Aircrew Base 911 was in turmoil, with an increasingly serious trend.

Not only were all the departments affected, but the director board, which represented the will of the shareholders, also argued incessantly every day, shaking the cohesion and unity of the enterprise and causing personnel to waver.

The HR department received a large number of resignations daily, some departments couldn't even function normally due to severe talent loss, and they were overwhelmed with problems.

As things deteriorated, the connection between Hanna Gagel and the Apocalypse Defense Group Headquarters also faced difficulties. Other than the first batch of bonuses and advance salaries that were promptly received, the subsequent requests for supplies and additional staff remained unfulfilled.

Even the Ministry of Internal Affairs, which she was once very familiar with, had become strange due to frequent personnel changes. The leaders and colleagues she knew were gone, replaced by a group of strangers with hostile attitudes.

All these changes made the mood of the female executive manager increasingly heavy.

Another two or three days passed.

A small transport plane followed by two medium transport planes landed one after another on the main runway of Aircrew Base 911.

The long-awaiting female executive manager immediately approached the small transport plane, which firmly braked on the tarmac among the three.

A dozen armed personnel came out first, and lastly, a middle-aged man in a white suit appeared, squinting slightly against the harsh sunlight. Upon seeing Hanna Gagel, he immediately smiled.

"My Little Hanna, it's been a long time since I've seen you."

"Uncle McAllen, it's only been a bit over a month."

Hanna Gagel smiled and embraced the man.

He was not only a shareholder and director of Apocalypse Defense but also her father's younger brother.

"Isn't there a saying, 'A day apart feels like three years'? My Little Hanna, are you getting used to it here?"

The middle-aged man in a white suit, McAllen Gager, surveyed his surroundings, faintly noticing the signs of battle.

The ugly scars of war wouldn't disappear in a day or two.

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"I've just gotten used to it."

Hanna Gagel wore a bitter smile.

Not long ago, due to immense pressure, she had gotten thoroughly drunk.

When she sobered up, what needed to be faced still had to be faced, and the pressure didn't diminish in the slightest.

All sorts of problems were cropping up at Aircrew Base 911, forcing the female executive manager to devote herself completely without rest or sleep, to the point that she didn't even have time to consider getting drunk again.

McAllen Gager patted his niece's shoulder and said, "Don't rush, take it slow, things will get better."

Then he turned around, pointing at the three transport planes, and said, "I've brought you forty-five people, you can trust them completely, along with a batch of equipment and supplies. This is the most I could get with my highest authority, and I'm leaving this small transport plane for you as well."

After all, he was a shareholder of Apocalypse Defense Group and one of the board members, so pulling together a batch of people and things was certainly within his purview.

From the planes, a group of people disembarked one after another, the majority of whom were armed security personnel.

Hanna Gagel was about to show a look of surprise but then seemed to think of something and frowned.

"Uncle, has the situation deteriorated to an irreversible extent?"

The intention behind leaving a small transport plane became even clearer: it was an escape route.

The Apocalypse Defense Group not only suffered a resounding defeat in the corporate warfare but even the partial victories achieved by Aircrew Base 911 couldn't reverse the overall situation.

"Ah! You're always so clever!"

McAllen Gager sighed and then said, "Actually, I'd prefer if you left with me."

"No, I will not leave!"

Fighting hard for an opportunity to be put into practical service, especially being in charge of an entire aircrew base, Hanna Gagel wouldn't allow herself to be a deserter.

"Just as stubborn as your father!"

McAllen Gager looked at his niece and suddenly smiled, saying, "Haha, truly worthy of the Gager bloodline, all of you are stubborn to a fault, not even a locomotive could drag you back."

"But still, thank you, Uncle!"

Hanna Gagel hugged her uncle, full of gratitude.

"I'm just a minor shareholder, there's not much I can help you with!"

McAllen Gager suddenly became serious and spoke solemnly, "You need to be careful, Merman Brothers United has lodged a complaint with the Global United Defense Committee, claiming that Aircrew Base 911 is harboring remnants of the Third Era Civilization, which could potentially cause trouble. Remember what I said, don't overstrain yourself, if you sense danger, leave immediately.

This is war; don't hesitate. Protecting yourself is how you can accomplish more."

"I understand, Uncle!"

Hanna Gagel nodded vigorously.

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