Chapter 999: Large Orders and Endless Cycles

"The Federation... is truly a monster."

An officer watched the planes landing one after another on the runway, his eyes filled with a kind of envy for the Federation's industrial manufacturing capabilities. Behind this envy, deeper down, lay a sense of fear.

He feared the Federation, feared their soldiers, and feared their manufacturing capacity.

How much time had even passed, and yet Federation planes were already here?

Looking at these beautiful machines, he could only temporarily suppress the unease in his heart.

Even though the Federation people were their allies, they just couldn't bring themselves to like this ally that was powerful to an excessive degree.

Large numbers of planes landed one after another on the emergency-repaired runway. Fortunately, these fixed-wing aircraft did not have such high requirements for the runway; even if the ground above was somewhat... uneven, it would not affect their landing.

The first batch to arrive were all fighter planes. They used a small amount of metal, wood, and aluminum skin for construction, which could effectively reduce the aircraft's body weight, allowing it to carry more ammunition and also fly faster.

The Federation Department of Defense and Congress were very expectant of these planes' performance. If they could heavily strike the arrogance of the Dantela people on the battlefield, it would be a great help in boosting the soldiers' morale.

During this period, the soldiers had been tormented enough by those planes buzzing in the sky like flies. If they could shoot down a few enemy planes, it would be a very good display of strength.

Sergeant Bo Er was resting.

After more than a year of war, Bo Er had become a qualified soldier and also a qualified sergeant.

He had lost count of how many batches of comrades around him had been replaced, yet he remained here.

Sometimes he would also think, if he were a Federation citizen in the true sense, perhaps he would already be a second lieutenant or a first lieutenant by now, and as an officer, he wouldn't need to fight on the front lines.

But he was just an illegal immigrant from the Empire; he came here for the legal status promised by the Federation government.

He was often afraid, too. On the battlefield, no one knew what would happen in the next second; perhaps a piece of shrapnel flying from nowhere could take your life.

He had many scars on his body; when he took off his clothes, it looked somewhat horrifying.

The most frightening thing was that a shell had once landed right beside him, but he had miraculously survived, though he suffered broken bones and lost two and a half fingers.

His luck was indeed very good. Of the comrades who joined the company with him, only those who were disabled on the battlefield and transferred to the rear were still alive, totaling no more than twenty people.

The others had all fallen completely on this land.

He now had no fear left for war, combat, or the battlefield. For him, this place was instead filled with a power that could calm him down.

The moment the sound of cannons and gunfire rang out, he would enter a state of focus he had never experienced before, and then complete his work.

"Bo Er, come here."

The company commander shouted from afar. Bo Er took the cigarette out of his mouth, held it in his hand, and glanced at it, then took another deep drag. Where his fingers pinched, he could already feel some burning pain before he threw the cigarette on the ground.

This was the rear, so smoking was not a problem.

He patted the dust off his body and trotted toward the company commander's tent.

All the non-commissioned officers in the company had gathered here, including some ordinary soldiers.

"Higher-ups just gave us a new mission. We need to occupy this place before 3:40 PM."

The company commander drew a circle on the map. As the soldier with the longest service here, Bo Er couldn't help but chuckle twice, and everyone looked up at him.

These focused gazes made Bo Er feel slightly uncomfortable. He could only ask softly, "Company commander, honestly, did you offend someone?"

The company commander didn't quite understand, "Why ask that?"

Bo Er pointed with his finger at the place where the circle was drawn, "We can't take this place."

"The Slader people's reconnaissance planes have been circling in the sky. Any military action can be seen by them. Once they discover we are heading to...", he lowered his head and glanced at the mark on the map, "District 14, they will definitely concentrate their firepower to beat us back."

"With people watching from the sky, the artillery on the ground can attack us constantly. I simply don't see a single possibility of success."

The company commander's expression turned serious, "I haven't offended anyone, first of all!"

"Secondly, this mission isn't just for our company alone; there are other companies. Furthermore, you don't need to worry about those flies in the sky, because our planes have arrived too."

This sentence made the atmosphere, which had been somewhat dull, suddenly become lively. Bo Er couldn't help but ask, "Do we have planes now too?"

The company commander put his hands on his hips and nodded, "Yes, and the Department of Defense said the effect is very good, and it is specifically targeted at these aerial units."

"They will fly up first to pluck out these planes monitoring us, and then we will advance directly. They can also provide cover for us from the sky."

"And we also have planes that can drop bombs. This time it's their turn to get a taste of our power."

Actually, even if he didn't explain, these soldiers couldn't refuse to carry out orders, but explaining would make them feel a bit better, at least letting them know the military wasn't planning to send them to their deaths.

At three o'clock, a large number of Sharp Arrow fighter planes took off from the airport. In order to achieve brilliant results in the first air battle, over a hundred of them flew up.

Bo Er, waiting on the ground for the forced march, held his helmet and watched the fighter planes densely flying toward the sky above the battlefield, unable to help but whistle.

Those silver-white bodies shimmered with a charming luster under the reflection of the sun, and there were quite a few people on the ground waving their arms at the planes.

The enemy planes obviously also noticed the large number of planes flying over from the Federation side. They indeed had intelligence about the Federation producing planes, but they didn't know that the Federation's planes had already arrived on the battlefield.

At first, these reconnaissance planes weren't too nervous. Everyone was just a plane in the sky; besides chasing each other, if they wanted to cause casualties, they could only use rifles or pistols at close range to achieve effective results.

So the reconnaissance planes weren't worried about these planes at all. Instead, they actively approached the Federation planes, wanting to see clearly the structure of these planes and what exactly their function was.

When the distance between the two sides was very close, the Federation fighter pilots recovered from a state of incomprehensible bewilderment. They directly pressed the firing button tightly.

The machine guns specifically designed for fixed-wing aircraft began to play their role. In an instant, the bullets sprayed from many muzzles formed a metal storm, tearing apart the reconnaissance planes in front of them in a flash.

Watching the reconnaissance planes falling from the sky, the eyes of the ground troops all widened.

Bo Er was even more excited and stood up, "Fuck, fuck!"

"These sons of bitches finally fell down, fuck!"

Other soldiers also cheered one after another. During this period, they had really had enough of the harassment from these planes; they couldn't sleep well, and there were always bombs falling from overhead.

Shells were actually difficult to hit directly into the trenches because there was an angle; most of the time, hiding in the trenches was safe. But ever since there were planes, the trenches were no longer safe.

Now, watching these sons of bitches fall down, everyone felt a kind of unprecedented comfort!

Several transport vehicles immediately drove toward the place where the planes crashed. The Department of Defense and the manufacturers of these planes had already greeted the front-line troops.

If they shot down enemy planes, as long as conditions permitted, they must drag the wreckage back.

By studying the wreckage of the Dantela people's planes, they might be able to get some inspiration from it.

The remaining fighter planes ran away without a trace in an instant. The ground troops began to advance, and soon they entered into combat.

War is a complex matter in many aspects, and the advancement of the front line is also a complex process, with the sounds of gunfire and shouting.

There was a dark-skinned man in the company. He was also not a Federation citizen, but he also wanted to obtain legal Federation status.

The current Federation had suspended ordinary labor immigration, only retaining windows for investment immigration, technical immigration, and the like.

If ordinary people wanted to become Federation citizens, they could only take the path of military recruitment immigration. He wanted to give himself and his family a better future, so he came here. He also often showed Bo Er the two photos he brought, which had his family on them.

He said this was the motivation that supported him to persist in this hell.

He had seen those two photos of this big black man. Photos of this era were generally yellowed and gray due to technology and materials.

So Bo Er only saw some clothes and skirts that would make people uneasy in the middle of the night, as well as faint shadows, in those two photos.

They were too dark, so dark that the camera couldn't even restore them. Sometimes Bo Er was also curious about how this big black man could distinguish who was who.

He couldn't tell, even after looking several times.

Besides this matter that Bo Er couldn't figure out, this big black man was actually a pretty good guy.

He was very strong and could carry more supplies; the talent of the race was something that couldn't be envied. And he was very outgoing, liked to dance, sing, and liked to swear.

Every time he fired his gun, he would say a "motherfucker." If anyone heard the sound of gunfire change from "bang bang bang" to "motherfucker bang motherfucker bang motherfucker bang," then this dark-skinned man must be right beside them.

This big black man was very smart. When he knew that Bo Er was a veteran in the true sense, as long as there was combat, he would always follow Bo Er.

Bo Er sometimes also warned him that doing so was actually not a good thing, because he had too many experiences of comrades dying beside him.

In a sense, he was a guy who could attract bad luck.

But the big black man had never listened to his request to leave him; instead, he always followed him.

After several battles, he had survived. It seemed that bad luck had left Bo Er?

Bo Er didn't know; he only knew that to survive, one could not be afraid.

Now, on the battlefield, he could be exceptionally calm, not afraid, not scared, and not excited, just calmly standing up, raising his gun, and firing.

He didn't know if he hit or not. In fact, most soldiers didn't know if the bullets had entered the enemy's body after they pulled the trigger. They had to hide after firing, rather than continuing to stare.

But they would have a feeling, a very strange feeling, that it hit.

Or that it didn't hit.

When he exposed his head again and fired a shot, he had that feeling. This time he hit. He waved his fist, and while pulling the bolt, he turned his head to look at the big black man, wanting to brag to him to relieve the slightly tense emotions between them.

It was just that his pupils contracted slightly; the big black man was already lying on the ground, with half of his face and head blown away.

Bo Er cursed a "fuck" and became silent again.

He pulled the dog tag off this guy, took out those two photos of his, put them in his pocket, and then never looked at him again.

He returned to his normal state, constantly raising his gun, firing, and changing positions.

This battle was not easy to fight. The Slader people's will was very tenacious. Fortunately, those planes in the sky gave them some help.

When these fighter planes dived, they pulled the trigger, and the machine guns strafed the ground from the sky, which played a key role in taking down this stronghold.

This battle lasted until dusk, and the sound of gunfire gradually subsided.

Several companies came up this time, basically in a semi-crippled state.

Bo Er looked at the returning planes and sighed silently.

Their company had lost more than seventy people. Although they would soon be replenished, he still felt a faint sorrow.

For the first time, he sat here, smoking, looking at those rows of corpses, his own people's and the enemy's, and he had a feeling of weariness.

This damn war.

He thought of something, took out the notebook he carried with him and a pencil stub, and began to record some emotions and thoughts in his heart.

He didn't know why he wanted to do this, but he just wanted to do it.

The debut of the Federation fighter planes was very successful, making the Slader people's planes dare not take off. Now the sky was the Federation's sky.

However, by the next day, the situation had changed somewhat. The Slader people's fighter planes also rushed over, and the two sides fought fiercely in the sky.

People on the ground held binoculars or used their naked eyes to watch the dogfight in the sky. Bo Er's yearning for the pilot life ended at this moment.

"Falling from above and hitting the ground must be very painful," he said while smoking.

This made the comrades around him couldn't help but laugh out loud. This might be one of the few times on the battlefield where they could relax and vent their emotions.

In their line of sight, those planes flying chaotically in the sky were telling everyone in a very special way that the form of war had undergone tremendous changes.

The air battle between the two sides lasted for three days. Both sides had many planes falling down, but in the end, the Federation side still mastered air superiority with a slight advantage.

The gears of war turned rapidly again. The transport vehicles in the rear brought eighty soldiers to Bo Er's company, which was considered a replenishment for this battle damage.

Because they had some new missions again, the command headquarters required them to continue to advance and take down District 22 under the cover of planes.

This time, the number of people participating in the battle was even larger, about two thousand to three thousand people. As for whether they could take it down, no one knew.

A new little follower appeared beside him. When this little follower knew that Bo Er was already a "veteran of a hundred battles," he even carried some of Bo Er's supplies on his own body.

He talked about why he joined the army and his desire to be able to go back.

He hoped that Bo Er could impart some battlefield knowledge, wisdom, or experience to him. He loved his family, and he wanted to go home.

Everything seemed to have returned to the starting point, but every time he returned to the starting point, the people around him had changed.

He treated this new little follower without joy or sorrow, just like he treated the big black man, warning him that following him might not necessarily lead to a good result, but the little follower still firmly followed him.

This gave Bo Er a very grotesque feeling. In this matter, it seemed as if he had fallen into an infinite loop, unable to get out.

The proud battle achievements on the front line were soon reported to the Federation Department of Defense and Congress, along with a series of documents about the soldiers who died on the front line.

It was just that those reports listing the soldiers who gave their lives for the Federation and their deeds were casually thrown aside by these big shots. They were more concerned about the performance of the planes on the battlefield.

The performance was of course satisfactory to everyone. The Department of Defense, with the permission of Congress, directly signed a super large order. The super order for at least two thousand planes made the shareholders of these companies smile from ear to ear.

Their performance in the stock market also left nothing to be desired. After all, this involved an order of one hundred million.

Although this order might only be a few percent compared to the orders of those old-fashioned military industrial groups, these few percent were a long-term progress, a process from nothing to something!

Everyone believed that as long as they continued to develop new planes, they could get more orders and get more profits!

The company's shareholders and public relations teams banqueted the members of Congress and the officials of the Department of Defense in New Jincheng. They even had to take out a portion of their profits to transport them to these "key roles" in various legal ways.

Suppliers dared to mark a toilet worth two dollars at two thousand dollars. Most of this money absolutely could not fall into their own hands. This is the truth.

At the banquet, these public relations representatives held up wine glasses high and talked nakedly with these officials, members of Congress, and masters about how to bring them more benefits.

And just two streets away, Lan Si was sitting in a restaurant having a meal with Tang Mu.

The music played by the band was soothing and relaxing. Here, one couldn't feel at all that it could be considered a "chaotic world" now. ===== CHAPTER 1000 =====