Chapter 482: Only My Unique Method Chapter 482: Small Punishment, Great Warning (5)

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Protagonist:

Chen Yi

When Kalan entered the Moscow Military Academy, the Cold War was still on; by the time he graduated, the great Soviet regime had already disintegrated. Chaotic Russia did not welcome students from the republics, so he had no choice but to return to his hometown in Ukraine and drive a taxi for a period of time, eventually choosing to join a mercenary group, and relying on the bit of knowledge he had learned, he finally entered the world equipment market.

From rifles to tanks, from missiles to aircraft, Ukraine opened its doors wide to supply weapons and ammunition to the whole world, going much further than Russia. Although Kalan was not the Boss, thanks to the value of high-end equipment, he had no worries about food, drink, or expenses, and had quite returned to the wonderful state of the socialist republic.

This trip to China was half for the Boss's face, half for the generous Reward, but these would not make Kalan throw himself into work with a hundredfold enthusiasm; he was a devout drunkard, not a devout workaholic.

Therefore, from start to finish Kalan poured vodka down his own throat, and instructed the other pilots that unless they were too busy to cope, they should not wake him — through years of violent cooperation, Kalan's demand had been consistently carried out.

He slept the whole night through, and when he woke up the corridor was empty.

"All gone to work, idiots!" Kalan twisted his creaking neck, like an obsolete machine, first grabbed a bottle of liquor and gargled vigorously, then swallowed it down.

Second Lieutenant He Qun happened to walk up and see it; disgusted, he frowned and shouted in Russian: "Stop drinking, come down for Breakfast, time to work."

"You're the Translator?" Kalan slanted his eyes, leaned against the bamboo tower, gave two foolish laughs, and said: "Not going."

He Qun curled his lip, directly drew his Pistol and asked: "Work, going or not?"

This time Kalan didn't speak, walked out swaying, thinking: You'll have plenty of times when you need me.

His Main Work was maintaining Helicopters and training pilots; because his skill level was high, he was always the one the employer had to coax. Being in the equipment market, Kalan had often had guns pointed at him, so he was fearless before He Qun's Pistol, carrying the Wine Bottle and swinging his arms on his own.

In the courtyard at the entrance, 7 Helicopters had already been installed; the other 14 pilots were climbing up and down like ants with their Buttocks cocked, and the sounds of various electrical equipment were like a Rock Music band.

"You go to Group One, you must install at least three aircraft by day, one more after dinner, and only then are you allowed to sleep. Now, put the Wine Bottle down." He Qun holstered his Pistol, his Tone still condescending.

The West Continent had many Slaves; foreign workers like Meixige Ren were even more inferior; obviously Soviet Russians would not get Superman treatment either.

Kalan "hmphed," threw down the Wine Bottle and went to the eighth aircraft; with one suave swing he sat into the cockpit, leaned against the icy fuselage and laughed at the busy electronic pilot: "There isn't even a Garage outside, aren't you afraid of being seen by Satellites?"

"No Satellites." The Belarusian Vladimir, installing electronic equipment, wiped his sweaty forehead with his arm and said: "You'd better work fast."

"Afraid of what?"

"The slowest gets whipped, 20 lashes."

Kalan laughed loudly and said: "I've run into such Barbarians in North Africa too; 20 lashes hurts quite a bit, but what about the work after — are we all supposed to go nurse injuries?"

Vladimir glanced outside, lowered his voice: "No need to nurse injuries; they have a special Medicine, two hours at most, and you can start working again."

He paused, then said: "You still don't know where you are, do you?"

"Isn't it China?"

"Look there." Vladimir pointed to the left.

Kalan poked his head out as told, and froze!

"That's... a dinosaur?"

What he saw was the Earth Dragon of the Divine Art Knights in training, 10 Meters tall, 40 Meters stretched out, a Colossus several times bulkier than a train car, and far more ferocious in appearance.

"Impressive, right? You didn't see it eat Breakfast." Vladimir half-buried himself in the nose of the aircraft, working as earnestly as a former Model Worker.

Kalan slapped his own forehead in disbelief, then stared closely at that Earth Dragon, as if trying to find a flaw proving it was fake.

Suddenly the Earth Dragon opened its huge mouth, sneezed, and a thin wooden stake was blown into four pieces by thick snot, flying up like Willow Catkins.

Kalan's mouth instantly gaped wide, as if ready to welcome that snot.

"This is... real? Then that monster I saw yesterday..."

He couldn't help climbing out of the Helicopter's inner cabin, looking around in all directions.

The spacious apron was paved with cement; the reinforced concrete tower was a bit rough; the auxiliary hangar could probably only park a medium transport plane; farther out lay vast farmland and pasture. If one only looked at the surface environment, this place resembled some South American rebel camp or a mercenary training camp.

However, considering the seventeen or eighteen dinosaurs of different shapes on the Pasture, Kalan's consciousness began to confuse.

A troop of Dragon Beasts rumbled into a run — they were the first batch of Armored Cavalry of the West River Water Fortress. The Dragon Beasts were draped in hard steel armor, looking a bit like modern tank reactive armor, but actually in the form of ancient chainmail.

Gleaming steel and snow-white teeth made the armored Dragon Beasts appear all the more flamboyant and terrifying; they were the model of localized security management, the latter being the embodiment of Chen Heng's military-building thought — years of military study had obviously made him more inclined to the division between Field Army and Garrison troops, and the distinction also lay in both sides' Equipment: apart from the West River Water Fortress headquarters' Garrison troops, other regions' Garrison troops' Equipment must be weaker than the Field Army, so that the Field Army under his direct control could easily Suppress any possible rebellion by the Garrison troops.

At the edge of the Pasture were Mount Beasts and Shen Beasts doing post-meal Exercise. The former were huge yet nimble-footed; the latter often carried a certain number of Knights; they were respectively the logistical support and Reconnaissance Unit of the Armored Cavalry, their numbers growing daily.

The swift running of various beasts subjected the Grass to enormous pressure, but except for a few force-exertion areas, rarely did any turf fly up.

Kalan never believed his imagination could be so rich; he pinched his thigh hard, then pinched again, then pinched again...

Under the burning pain, the muggy weather and tropical colors did not change in the slightest.

A sudden stabbing pain came from his thigh, hurting more than the pinching.

Kalan came to his senses and looked down — a steel blade the length of an arm was stuck in his Jeans.

A native looking like a Soldier held a long spear, Glasses staring tightly at Kalan, and shouted in a strange tone: "Hey! Work, work!"

He pointed at the cockpit interior, then jabbed the spear forward.

A thread of fresh blood flowed along the spear tip through the blood groove, right before Kalan's eyes, dripping onto the Ground.

"This bastard." The Russian cursed, flipped over to Vladimir's side, and started pretending to work.

The Soldier returned to his post Satisfied.

"What ghost place is this?" Kalan asked Vladimir with a hoarse voice; a vodka hangover suits picking up girls in a Bar, but not really speaking.

"No one knows." The former electronic Engineer wired with abnormal seriousness; after a long while he moved his stiff neck and said: "You'd better work fast; they count Workload; if you're last, it's still 20 lashes."

Kalan stopped talking.

He used his liquor-soaked Shirt to bind his bleeding thigh, began checking his Weapon; that Soldier's rough action just now had already made him understand the other's seriousness.

In the evening, He Qun brought the inspection team members and Air Force members over.

The so-called Air Force members had actually never piloted a plane once, but they had all used large amounts of Knowledge Solvent, their Foundation was fairly solid, the rest was just a matter of wasting planes and fuel.

Seeing these people's uniforms, Kalan instantly straightened his chest. He was one of only three pilots among the 15 pilots, and the one with the best technique. In other words, this group of weird guys wanting to learn to fly Helicopters could only find those three people.

Comfortable working conditions and alcoholism were Cultivated; what Kalan excelled at most was utilizing his own technique.

"Now let's calculate the workload." He Qun spoke in Russian. Mass production of konjac was very simple; compared to the grain self-sufficiency strategy proposed by Yu Weichao, Chen Yi was more inclined toward commercialized agricultural production, and konjac was the most important product among them.

He used a remote control to turn on the monitors in the Hall, inside which the work processes of 15 pilots were playing at fast-forward.

"You're just like those old Soviet guys, looking at those authoritarian monitors—where exactly have you been stationed?" Kalan knew his workload must be the smallest. Others got up to work at six o'clock, while he only entered the airport at eight or nine, and was as lazy as ever.

He Qun didn't even glance at him, leisurely bringing out a Random Chest, inside which were two healing "Light Scrolls"; Level 3 Scrolls could be activated directly by Ordinary People, just like the one Chen Yi had used back then.

This was something for treating injuries; the 14 pilots clenched their buttholes, while the remaining Kalan was clueless.

"Second Lieutenant." Yan Shan Jian was responsible for flogging; he didn't look at the screen but directly displayed the records, saying: "Among you, Mr. Kalan has the lowest work hours and work efficiency, so he is ranked 15th. According to the rules we agreed on, he will receive 20 lashes. Any objections?"

"I do!" Kalan immediately shouted, saying: "I've never heard of any such rules of yours. I'm here to help you assemble helicopters and pilots. If I get injured, how can I work for you?"

"Still smart, knows how to talk." Yan Shan Jian teased while taking out the "Light Scroll," saying: "Rest assured, we'll cure you."

Although up to now, few Earthlings who had come into contact with Scrolls understood their principles, that didn't prevent everyone from liking them.

Instant effect was the most praiseworthy thing about Scrolls, and using them in punishment was also very convenient.

Two Natives responsible for execution stepped forward and bound Kalan up, like binding a fat pig; the latter kept twisting and resisting, growling in a low voice: "I'm the best pilot. If you want to train the best pilots, you should let me go."

"If you can't train the best pilots, we'll kill you. And since you don't work seriously, we'll only whip you. The Lord said this is graded punishment, so you won't commit more serious mistakes—very humane." Yan Shan Jian said very calmly, just like his promises in the slave camp, speaking with a calm expression: "If your performance doesn't satisfy us, we'll compensate your Boss. Whether he buys insurance for you is his business."

As he spoke, the whip dipped in water and coated with ox sinew began to wave, like thick long tentacles dancing ballet.

The "slap slap" sounds of flogging accompanied the flying flesh and blood.

A group of Russian burly men trembled in the arms of the tall Natives.

Yan Shan Jian revered violence even more than Dai Adi; when he saw the scene of flying flesh and blood, he smiled very confidently at He Qun and said: "We will have a batch of excellent pilots."

"Of course." He Qun turned to the Air Force members behind him and shouted: "All conditions are prepared for you. Formal training starts tomorrow. Within one month, there must be our helicopter squadrons patrolling within the city domain."

……(Unfinished. If you like this work, welcome to come to Qidian (qidian. com) to cast Recommendation Tickets and Monthly Tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation.)