After killing these two men, Marjora and I rushed into the house and the first thing we saw was a pile of ammunition boxes, which seemed to be indeed a militia ammunition storage site. Presumably, the militia was frightened by the stunt of our drones dropping grenades, so they put the ammunition in the house for storage. Now we're rich.

But a twisted body on the floor next to the ammunition blinded us both. I raised my gun and was about to shoot, but suddenly I noticed that the man's face was familiar. Now this guy has a handful of snot and tears and is having a drug addiction attack, so there should be no threat. I took a closer look, and I really knew, this isn't Sitas, how did it become like this? It's a small world.

Now this guy has no young master's style at all. His face was covered with stubble that he hadn't shaved for an unknown amount of time, his face was covered with snot and tears, and he was wearing an undershirt that was no longer colored, and he was almost torn off because of the onset of drug addiction. I kicked him, and he recognized me and shouted, "James, help me." James, please give me some powder, or I'll die. ”

Marjola turned back from the other room and signaled to me "safe". He looked at Statas and asked, "Do you know?" Then he said, "Ignore this scumbag." Don't let him hold us back. ”

Normally, I don't want to pay attention to this kind of addict at all, but I don't know if it's because of that little bit of darkness, but today I suddenly became interested in Sitas. I said, "Maybe I can get some information out of his mouth." Then I said to one of the self-defense forces, "Go and see if those three people have any drugs on them." ”

All three bodies were dragged in, and the SDF forces searched them for some powder and pills in plastic bags, which were snatched by Sitas before they could reach me.

Now that the enemy is present, I don't have much time to pay attention to Sitas, and arrange for Arvin to take five people to stay behind and watch over Sitas, and then the rest of the people will return to our car. Now that the offensive of this militia has not stopped, we must seize the time to stick a knife in their back.

We continue to move forward. Some of the militia who did not participate in the attack stayed in the houses on both sides of the road and came out to greet us when they saw us, reminding us to be careful of drones. I asked out loud: "Where is the commander?" ”

A chubby militiaman pointed to a wooden single-family house with an attic in front of him: "They are there to direct the battle." How's your play over there? ”

I said, "Oops! Our commander died. ”

Another militiaman asked from afar: "Some people say that we have been deceived by your commanders. There isn't that much money in this community. What the hell is going on? ”

Hehe. It seems that the released captives worked. But since these militias are still attacking, we show that they are not giving up, and if we don't give them some color, we will see if they will continue to fight. I asked out loud, "I don't know what you're talking about." I want to see your commander, where is he? ”

Immediately someone pointed to the wooden building: "They're probably in the attic." ”

There was a small fork in the road ahead, and I turned the car into the road in front of the detached building, and I could see the attic window open, and someone heard a sound poking its head out of the window. Seeing that we were just twenty meters away from the house, I hurriedly stepped on the brakes and shouted, "Fire now!" ”

Before the words fell, Powell began to shoot, and the deafening sound of gunfire immediately drowned out my voice. The wooden structure of the house was cut out by the M2 machine gun's 12.7mm bullets at close range, and large holes were carved out one after another. The ammunition man next to Powell picked up a bazooka and fired into the attic as the machine gun fired. The rockets dragged their bright tails into the house, making a large hole in the wall that made it easy to get in and out, and some of the thrown wood chips smashed directly into the front windshield of the car.

The Self-Defense Forces in the car behind also opened fire, firing high-explosive grenades at the house where the militia commander was staying, while firing rifles and submachine guns at militia members who were not hiding nearby. The militia did not expect us to suddenly attack the killers, and many people were knocked down in a daze. Those who were lucky enough not to be hit screamed for concealment, and there was no time to fight back. Then my men began to throw a large number of grenades at the places where the militia might be hiding, and smashed the grenades into the windows of the houses, and the explosions made the militia completely lose the will to resist, and they shouted and fled for their lives.

But our numbers are small after all, and there should be many militias out of our sight. Thirty-five seconds after firing, I ordered to get out of the fight immediately. As he drove past the door of the militia commander's house, Powell continued to strafe. Now the house has been hit by hundreds of large-caliber bullets and a dozen 40mm grenades, and only an empty shelf remains, and it has begun to burn, and it is estimated that there may not be any living people inside. I told everyone to turn their fire on both sides of the road, especially on the rooftops and attics, and a few militiamen who poked their heads out of the houses were immediately torn apart by our bullets.

And so we rushed out of this street with a volley of gunfire, and then turned around and turned back from another side street to the place where the ammunition was stored, and counted not a single casualty. The militia didn't have time to fight back. In the future, such battles will be fought more often.

In order to minimize casualties, I am not prepared to take the initiative to attack these militias again. Even if there were drones to provide reconnaissance, it would not work, because drones could not detect the militia hiding in the buildings, and if I wanted to attack, I would have to suffer casualties. So I ordered everyone to replenish the ammunition immediately and carry the remaining ammunition to the two trucks outside the house to prepare for evacuation.

The current battlefield is the world of drones. As soon as we refilled our ammunition, one drone flew over us, followed by another, and two drones kept circling over our heads. However, these two drones are small civilian drones with only cameras, and there is no direct threat, so everyone just looks at the drone's camera and compares the middle finger to do whatever they want. However, the drone we flew saw that some militia were quickly chasing after us, and Big Bird also informed me that more than 60 militiamen from two sides were approaching us, but this was exactly what I needed to lure the enemy.

I asked one of the detachment leaders to lead the men to continue loading the ammunition, and then I and Arwen each led a team to occupy the two wings of the dwellings, as if they were ready to resist the militia attack. The militia will surely think that we have to fight in order to get all the captured ammunition away, and everything is logical. As for the mines that have already been laid, their drones will definitely not be able to detect them.

Just two minutes after we set it up, militia emerged from the streets to the west. They had already determined our location by reconnaissance by drones and did not rush directly, but first bombarded our stealth dwellings with grenade launchers and RPGs. Fortunately, we did not stupidly enter this very fragile house, but scattered outside the house and shot at the militia under the cover of the corner of the wall and the trunk of the tree.

I went up to the top of a house at the back and pointed the M25 at a far corner. A militiaman had just dodged out of there, fired a grenade and hid behind a corner, and I judged that he would reappear. Sure enough, he didn't disappoint me, presumably reloading the grenade and jumping out from behind the corner again. This time he was a bit big, and the reticle of the eyepiece didn't go out of his chest, but I pulled the trigger right away. After the gunshot, the bullet nearly tore his arm off his shoulder. He was knocked around and the grenade was fired, but it was not known where it went.

In this way, not only is the militia incapacitated, but the militia has added a wounded, and they need at least one person to take care of him.

I immediately searched for other targets, but at this time a drone flew over my head. Marjora, who was lying on the side to help me find my target, quickly turned over and picked up the M18 and shot at the drone. But the drone was fluttering, and he didn't even hit a few shots.

I hurriedly fired a shot at a militiaman holding a machine gun behind a telephone pole, knocking half of his exposed face into the air, and then hurriedly pulled off the roof with Marjo. Before our feet hit the ground, two grenades exploded on the roof. It seems that in the case of drone surveillance of the battlefield, the commanding heights are really dangerous.

The observation range on the ground was small, and I fired a few more shots at the militia, and the leader of the detachment carrying the ammunition told me that the ammunition had been moved, and I hurriedly beckoned everyone to retreat. We fought and retreated, and the militia gradually advanced behind us. As we retreated to our car, Arwen detonated the mines that had been laid around us.

I told Arwen that when laying mines, he would rather kill a thousand by mistake than let go of one, and as long as the militia might approach the direction, all directional mines were laid. The barsword mine's steel balls have a kill range of 50 meters, which is enough to sweep a street in urban warfare, and each mine can throw 700 steel balls to ensure that the target within the kill range cannot escape. Dozens of mines detonated together were enough to blast the militia exposed in front of the minefield into a sieve. Therefore, I don't look at the lethal effect anymore, and beckons everyone to get in the car and leave, and then go elsewhere to find the bad luck of the militia.