Sky-cracking Rider

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w(?Д?)w! Ouch!

"Dragon Slayer Missiles" are even more expensive than "Big Mouth Monsters"?

Chen Fei was immediately relieved, thankful that Apocalypse Defense Group didn't bill him for the "Dragon Slayer Missile" he had accidentally launched, otherwise it would have scared him to death. Continue your adventure with m|v-l'e m,p| y r

The purchase cost of a single KDK-1 intake hypersonic smart missile was far more than the entire combat cost of the assault on Aircrew Base 897.

If Aircrew Base 911 hadn't successfully killed the Metallic Dragons and harvested the wreckage, it would have definitely been a bloodbath loss.

Using "Dragon Slayer Missiles" to bomb an aircrew base, wiping them out completely, how deep must the hatred be?

Apocalypse Defense Group's combat mission for subsidiary Aircrew Base 911 was not meant to wipe them out completely; it focused primarily on destroying equipment and buildings, and the slaughter of the base's living forces was not part of the plan.

"Last wave, throw everything down, and then say goodbye to them!"

Without any air defenses left, Chekhov was unusually unrestrained flying the 211, leading another four "Big Mouth Monsters" in a line, dumping ammunition into the base.

The tall control tower turned into ruins, the hangar roof was split in four or five places, and cluster incendiary bombs were dropped in, igniting everything flammable. Black smoke billowed, fighter jets and various types of equipment were all consumed in flames.

A 500-kilogram cluster incendiary bomb burned a large area, achieving complete coverage, followed by cloud bombs, creating blast waves that swept everything away, a surefire method for dismantling everything.

Programming a fighter jet's weapons is, putting it simply, like setting up custom shortcuts, somewhat like a real-time strategy game, where you can quickly command a part of your combat units with shortcut keys. Whenever needed, just pressing F1, F2, F3... is enough to launch a pre-set "combo attack" at first opportunity, beating the opponent until they're down on the ground looking for their teeth.

On the ground, the oil depot, blazing up into the sky, finally reached a critical point and erupted like a volcano, rising steadily into a spectacular mushroom cloud comparable in power to a 500-kilogram high-explosive aerial bomb.

Sitting inside the "Big Mouth Monster" cockpit, even though they were four or five hundred meters away, they could still feel the aftermath of the blast wave and scorching heat radiation. The scene was practically like hell, even cement began showing signs of melting.

If it weren't for the fast reaction of the people from Aircrew Base 897, who ran to underground air defense facilities immediately, the casualties would have been severe by now.

From his aerial view, Chen Fei could imagine the devastating loss would make the opposing side bleed so much that it would be like vomiting three liters of blood.

However, these weren't the worst of it.

The "Big Mouth Monsters" from Aircrew Base 911 brought carefully prepared gifts for their colleagues—a hundred-kilogram class of special stink bombs rained down like droplets and burst open inside Aircrew Base 897. There was no fire, no blast wave, no need to care about the hit rate; just drop and it was done.

The yellow-green smoke that exploded with muffled sounds quickly spread, bringing with it an overwhelming stench, suffocating enough to make the whole base smell worse than a cesspit.

Once contaminated with these odors, even with various detergents and repeated washing, they still couldn't be completely cleaned in a short time.

These synthetically manufactured chemical smells would linger in the area for at least a month before gradually dissipating.

After all this clanging and banging, for nearly a month to come, the people of 897 were definitely going to be smelling so bad they would doubt their existence.

Not intending to simply accept a loss or escalate the conflict, Apocalypse Defense Group just wanted to disgust the opponent with this act. They didn't want to kill you, they just wanted to disgust you to death.

"Heraxiao, mission complete, return flight."

Circling the combat target from the air, Chekhov Big Bear was extremely satisfied seeing the ground's houses collapsed and the chaotic mess, with opponents so weak it felt thoroughly refreshing to beat them.

Before this, Aircrew Base 897 could never have imagined that Aircrew Base 911 would react so fast, striking without a moment's hesitation, seeking immediate revenge, definitely not the kind to wait till the next day.

The fight from the surprise attack to the bombing finished in two and a half minutes, and the auxiliary fuel tank was not even empty yet.

Who would have thought, perhaps in an effort to save on operational costs, Aircrew Base 897 only had nine antiaircraft heavy machine guns to maintain the most basic air defense, but not a single ground-based anti-air missile and not even a man-portable air-defense system was seen, allowing the five "Big Mouth Monster" turboprop aircraft to break through their defenses effortlessness at ultra-low altitude, without encountering any decent resistance, and the opposing pilots didn't even get the chance to get near the aircraft.

Once the first wave of attacks took out the radar and dense array of anti-air, the rest of the operation was to hold the enemy down and do whatever they wanted.

Since time immemorial, bullets don't have eyes, and any personnel casualties were on their own to handle, with absolutely no responsibility taken.

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If you have a problem with that, have the guts to come at me!

The "Genuine Fragrance" Combat Flight Squadron, changing from the ultra-low altitude flight they had taken on their way here, swagged their way out. Finally, the cockpit no longer had to endure the endless proximity alerts and terrain warnings, which also loved to join in on the action frequently.

"Sss... sons of bitches, 911, you have no sense of martial ethics..."

The public communication channel suddenly received clear-text transmission, and it was evident that the folks at 897 were frantic, venting their helpless rage at the "Genuine Fragrance" Combat Flight Squadron preparing to withdraw.

Chen Fei shuddered in fear, hastily cutting off the public communication channel.

The one leading the squad in climbing altitude to return, Chekhov Big Bear, frowned and turned his face in displeasure, saying, "Why cut it off? Put it back on, and switch to talk mode."

Alright, going unencrypted!

"...We from 897 Aircrew Base will submit a complaint to the Blue Star Global United Defense Committee, you murderers... violating the Joint Defense Legislation..."

"Ahem!" Major Chekhov Leonidovich Ivanov cleared his throat, preparing to speak.

"Pfft, what a load of nonsense. With that attitude of yours, come at me, bro. You think you've got what it takes? Kiddo, I could crush your entire family with one finger..."

All sorts of obnoxious words surged like the August tides in the Amazon basin, wave after wave of sheer negative energy.

Emmm... something's off with that accent, boss!

Chen Fei, the kiddo, looked towards the cockpit's front seat in shock. Where's Big Bear?

The plane was clearly in the sky, how could they have switched people?

It wasn't just him; in the cockpits of the "Big Mouth Monsters" to the left and right, all the pilots couldn't help but sneak glances.

(﹁﹁)(﹁﹁)(*=(エ)=)(←.←)(←.←)

Before three minutes were up, the clear-text conversation from 897 Aircrew Base on the public communication channel was brutally dismissed. They couldn't withstand the barrage of verbal abuse coming at them, which was so intense that even through the radio signals, they could feel like they had been spat in the face.

Believe it or not, Big Bear could spray a massive QR code right at you.

Damn genius!

It took quite some time for the folks at 911 Aircrew Base to come to their senses.

"Oh my goodness, that was awesome, so freaking awesome!"

Chekhov Big Bear wiggled his butt, as if feeling hot, opened up his Anti-G suit, reached into his crotch, and fished out a bottle of liquor.

Without a care, he bit off the bottle cap, spat it out to one side, one hand on the control stick, the other with Blue Star Erguotou, tilting his head back and guzzling repeatedly.

To drink in celebration today, my ambitions unfulfilled, I vow not to rest. There's time in the days ahead to show my skills, willingly spill hot blood to write history.

Just as wine heats up a warrior before battle, that's as it goes.

In the backseat, the Rookie was scared out of his wits. Some things never change. That guy up front had been waiting right here!

A heavy smell of alcohol started to permeate the cockpit.

The bottle of Erguotou, still half full, was propped toward the back seat, accompanied by Chekhov's slurred and crooked voice.

"Rookie, have a drink!"

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