Amilcar Zhao's assistant officer, Master Balbo, is conducting his daily training routine.

In his field of vision, there are three virtual characters. It's all Hiroshi Matsushima.

Unlike some gangsters who "just put on the look", Balbo can pull up data and even call in external computing resources to make the simulation close to reality.

The data includes the prosthetic parameters that Matsushima registered at the Paralympic Games decades ago, as well as the data from the competition.

Even when Matsushima Hiroshi worked for them and they reciprocated for Matsushima Hiroshi to install safety measures, there were technicians who would directly call up Matsushima Hiroshi's experience convolution.

Anyway, it's just a civilian warrior.

And the virtual person that comes out of this, except for a little less flexibility in "decision-making", is not much different from the athlete Matsushima Hiroshi decades ago.

Master Balbo quickly swung his fists into the air, and ten minutes later, knocked the two "Virtual Matsushima Hiroshi" to the ground.

This kind of training, he often does.

Although "simulation" is ultimately a layer worse than real people, it is better than the cost and can be done anytime, anywhere. You can even choose all the warriors who have been recorded throughout the ages.

The martial arts of the official warriors are definitely not weak.

At this time, the "virtual image" suddenly disappears. Reality appeared in front of him in an instant.

An officer stood in front of him, his prosthetic eyes focused on his fist, looking nervous.

Lord Balbo was a little impatient: "What's wrong?" I remember......" He compared the data in his head: "Listening to the class?" ”

Broadcasting suffers from the problem of being "difficult to regulate". The technical content of this thing is too low, and whoever has mastered the method can find some scrap in any wilderness settlement and make a working broadcasting equipment by himself. The large-scale arrangement of electromagnetic wave interference may also affect their normal work.

As a result, the patrons have always taken a resigned attitude towards ordinary broadcasters.

They really want to manage it, and they don't have the energy to manage it one by one.

But you can't really just ignore it.

The purpose of the human gene bank is to perpetuate the species of "human". The survival of the human population is the only obligation recognized by the Dyson Principles.

To be hostile to the power of the human gene pool is to hinder the continuation of humanity.

Every chivalrous man is undoubtedly an anti-humanist.

And every broadcaster is a potential anti-humanist.

Their existence will threaten the safety of human life. It is based on the logic of the extension of the Dyson principle that asylum seekers have the right to dispose of them.

Therefore, under each lord, there will be a team dedicated to listening.

The number of broadcasters in a region is always limited. It stands to reason that one person should be able to listen to several channels.

The reason why they are "squads" is because these listeners are not too prosthetic. This is to prevent someone's broadcast signal from being transformed into some kind of poison after being converted by a special transcoder - after all, the world knows that today's computer technology standards are formulated by those people, including "that person".

The new generation of internal masters also use the textbooks written by "that person".

And the appearance of chivalry among "those people" means that there is no absolutely safe input port now.

Any input port can be called a source of insecurity.

And there is another benefit to low prostheticization. Even if the people in charge of the monitoring were infected by the fallacies of the broadcast, they would not be able to cause great damage.

The human body is too weak.

It's just that......

For most of the officers of the Gene Bank armed forces, being in charge of the listening class often means "sitting on the cold bench".

Master Balbo barely remembers the poor fellow.

The officer whispered, "Sir, we have overheard a restless fellow. He's reporting on the movements of our troops. ”

"Huh?" Lord Balbo was a little puzzled: "What kind of idiot is this?" No...... Wrong. Now how can even such idiots dare to come out and mock us? ”

A written report had already appeared under his eyes. He followed the report and found the Optical Slope Channel.

Master Balbo walked to the window.

He did hear what was described in the report. The host of this broadcast is broadcasting the number of troops in Pine Eagle City, the location of the divisions, the density, the number and location of vehicles, the model of the aircraft, and even the density of drones visible to the naked eye.

These can be quickly estimated by visual inspection by visual plug-ins. The visual plug-in will neatly divide the observed area into countless squares of equal size, and then randomly sample, calculate the average number of people in some squares, and then according to a series of complex statistical algorithms, come up with a set of numbers that are as close to real as possible.

This is not useless intelligence.

No matter how well organized the asylum is, it cannot break through the physical limitations. If the scattered troops want to assemble, they also need to be moved. And the prosthetic body of each soldier is also a standardized thing, and the speed can also be measured.

And limited by distance, weather, terrain, and the state of the soldier's prosthesis, the tactics that can be selected in the wilderness are not unlimited.

This level of intelligence can at least tell the listener how the Pine Eagle army might move in the next twelve hours, and what kind of formation it might put up in the wilderness.

"I can't stand it." Master Balbo knocked on the back of his head: "The death of His Excellency Bengel has indeed made some harmful fungi ready to move." ”

In the course of this sentence, he had called up the distribution of all the troops in the entire city and compared it with the part described in the broadcast.

Since the earth is curved, no matter how high a person stands, he will see the "horizon". The distant scenery will be obscured by the earth - and this distance is often only a few kilometers to a dozen kilometers.

Not to mention, there are also giant buildings in the city.

Balbo quickly relied on the algorithm to deduce where the observer might be.

The next step is to retrieve satellite imagery.

"Oh, really." He shook his head: "Industrial-grade prosthetics? Good workers are not right, but they come to be anti-human elements......"

The clerk whispered, "We hope to be able to escalate ...... again"

"No need. This guy's behavior is to assist the knight, obviously endangering the lives of others, and violating the Dyson principle. ”

Not anyone in the asylum camp can arbitrarily claim asylum to others. Many overly obvious acts, such as homicide and theft, can be determined directly and automatically by the system.

However, the act of "broadcasting" is only on the "line", and can only be determined by cadres who have at least the official status of the human gene bank.

"Those who owe allegiance to the cadres themselves" can also be counted.

In the Dyson Principle, all actions of a person who oalties to someone are responsible for the allegiance - in short, if someone who is loyal to a lord violates the Dyson principle, then it is equivalent to the lord himself violating the Dyson principle.

Of course, of course, this is just a metaphor.

This has never happened before.

After receiving the approval of the lord's auxiliary officer, the affairs officer nodded and said, "There is an anti-aircraft artillery camp two kilometers away from that Guan Boren. There's a team of warriors resting inside......"

"No, no, no, how can this be? One more minute of this broadcast, one more minute of humiliation. There was a hint of anger in Master Balbo's voice: "Isn't he a chivalrous man who longs to shine?" Reward him with a short- and medium-range tactical missile, and make him the brightest man tonight. ”

The clerk felt a bit extravagant and wasteful, but didn't say anything.

Balbo, on the other hand, watched the industrial machine through the satellite's optical surveillance.

Probably because the ignition of tactical missiles is relatively large. The broadcaster seemed to have discovered something. He turned, took his ridiculously short stride, and sped up.

It's an industrial prosthetic that doesn't think much about movement.

"Ah, dear listeners, for some reason I have to stop this broadcast. Finally, I want to sing a song for all my friends who are paying attention to 'chivalry' at this moment. A Las Barricadas (To the barricades), thank you all the time. ”

Balbo looked at the industrial prosthetic body that stumbled like some kind of arthropod, and he couldn't help but find it funny.

Tactical missiles of medium and short range do not hit directly, but first lift into the air, and then correct their trajectory according to the target preset by the system. This process does take a little time.

However, the movement speed of the industrial prosthetic can only extend this time by half a second at most.

The little time left is to watch the burlesque performed by this guy.

"Negras tormentas agitan los aires [Black storm stirs in the air] [Dark clouds obscure vision] [Dark clouds obscure vision] [Even though pain and death await ahead] [Contra el enemigo nos llama el deber.] [Duty calls us to fight the enemy] El bien más preciado es la libertad【Nothing is more precious than freedom】hay que defenderla con fe y valor.【With faith and courage we will defend it】......"

until the field of vision is filled with light.

………………………………………………………………

In fact, when the strange broadcaster announced the movement of the Matsutaka Castle army, Xiang Shan stood up.

He looked at the king of solo kills. The Solo Killer King shook his head slowly.

Xiang Shan said angrily: "Can't catch up? ”

"It's impossible to catch up. And even if they catch up, they will only send themselves to the area covered by enemy fire. ”

Xiang Shan listened to this ancient song without saying a word.

“……? A las Barricadas!? A las Barricadas!【Go to the barricades!】 Go to the barricades! For the triumph of the union! 】……”

The song came to an abrupt end.

And the last sentence of the old crab was smashed into the ionosphere, fell to the earth, and fell into the antennas of I don't know how many.

"A scrap metal for a tactical missile, it's worth it!"