The waves are still there, and the tide is undulating.

A lake breeze with a salty smell wafted over McCandles. So this man with a scarred face, almost an "X" crossed the stork bone, slightly shrugged like a mountain range, but the middle end seemed to have been dug out by some kind of mighty force, no wonder in Hydra, he received the nickname "Black Mountain", and it is true that when he sees this senior purple poncho captain, he will think of the eternal rugged Black Mountain.

Oh, it used to be called the Appalachian Mountains, but it doesn't matter anymore.

"One, two, three, pull!" A whole squad of soldiers gathered beside the ramp, more appropriately called the embankment, and these shirtless soldiers were pulling an arm-thick steel cable, and as the trumpet was raised, they mustered all the strength to pull the armoured car out of the turbulence as much as possible.

A vehicle that witnessed the failure of the purple poncho.

"Hand in hand! It's going to slip! "Obviously, nine men plus nine other exoskeleton soldiers can't shake the 17-ton Storick. As soon as they pulled out of the emerald green water, there were several water ghost fish with cracked blood basins and large mouths facing several limes, spontaneously combusting and wailing accompanied by the piercing sound of wheel rubbing and falling. It's almost impossible to tell who is more ugly.

McCandlesis was about to move, but a furry hand with a sleeve rolled up held him down, and Caspore, with whom he had worked for six years, cast a cautious gaze, which made him wary of the casual men and women on the riverbank not far away. But it looks like a group of college graduates who have come for sightseeing and exchange. The intricately textured Kodo-fiber uniforms, lightweight tactical gear, and unabashedly "arrogant" dyed forehead hair together with the Wasteland Eagle submachine pistol hanging from their lap mark their true identity.

The Black Wall Army.

"Hmph~" McCandles's throat came out with some inexplicable grunts, and he turned to clasp his hands for a while, and the taciturn veteran said softly: "A group of chicks in the black wall, this is the ruins of Zhika!" ”

Captain Purple Poncho emphasized the last two words: "Zhika ruins!"

With a slight tremor overhead, Caspore's purple cloak slid down like water, pointing at the fleeting high-altitude predator drone, and said helplessly: "Of course they know that this is the ruins of Zhika, one of the most dangerous urban ruins in the South Shore area. ”

Seeing that the armored vehicle was about to fall back into the river again, the nearby Combine officers hurriedly sent more exoskeletons, so to speak, stabilized their position in a white mist raised by a burst of hydraulic steam, and the wedge was no longer falling, but if they wanted to be completely straightened, it was almost impossible to rely purely on manpower and the brute force of the "raider" exoskeleton, and they could only wait for the follow-up tractor to come, after all, no matter when, a fully constructed pre-war large armament was priceless.

The Snowstorm Short Assault Rifle at McCandles' waist complements the city's ruin-style tabby camouflage, which looks a little strange in the adjacent water area. And the optical cloak that is usually deliberately disintegrated into hibiscus lilac is even more conspicuous, which is a tradition and a proof. The black purple that was lighter than the official members made the purple ponchos, which were roughly equivalent to preparing Hydra, understand that even the blood flowing in the veins had to be lighter. Like the aristocratic boys who were now freely noisy over their heads, they even had their own reserve emblem, an olive ring outside the black star, instead of a thorn ring.

Everyone knows that Steel City is the northern industrial center of the East Coast wasteland, relying on the massive industrial backup of the former Cleveland Vault and not necessarily the cooperation of the Great Lakes Alliance city-states, it can independently assemble heavy-duty trucks, light aircraft, and even shallow-water cargo ships with more than 100 tons of water.

The same, capable of completing artillery semi-finished products.

In the distance, the rumble of a universal tracked artillery tractor could be heard from the temporary boat bridge. And with that comes a dense swarm of drones like a flock of birds. McCandless caught a glimpse of the bewitching purple. His heart suddenly tightened, and he subconsciously grabbed his trouser pocket.

"It's her, Liaison Officer." Caspore whispered, this time he didn't have the courage to stretch his hand to point.

The ultralight howitzer slowly crossed the pontoon bridge with the occasional lapping of the lake in a body-towing manner, leaving the gap on both sides for soldiers to stand by. Holding a special lime powder spraying gun, it forcibly pulls up a lot of heat on the surface of the extremely viscous summer algae and grass water. This makes it impossible for mutant creatures like water monsters that are used to lurking in the cool water to surface.

"Your Excellency......" McCandless bowed, and all the purple ponchos present were the same. The strong aroma of demonic roses directly drove away the fishy smell, and Hydra's liaison officer with the Iron Army, Feroseppuni, gave a light "um" on his shoulder, and said with a smile: "Chris, the Glatheham celebration you owe me will be postponed for ten years, which is really embarrassing." ”

Meeting is to reveal people's scars, but this tall and plump woman with purple hair and red eyes is very understated, and even the young officer standing next to her raises an arc of contempt - who doesn't know that Hydra sluts like to hook up with military talents with impunity?

"Please wait." Preparation and formality are a complete barrier, and no matter how much Philosepuni is regarded as an outlier of Hydra, she is always a veritable dual-powerhouse. The look of the body that looks down and can't see the toes really makes people ignore this fact. As long as she wants, there is no problem with the blood slaughter three meters around.

Purple ponchos including McCandles.

"It's hot, my dear, maybe they're ...... with drinks," Philosepny yawned as the young officer pushed up his goggles, his short white blonde curls showing his pureblood.

"I've seen Angelini, come, build a pergola somewhere with a view of Lake Michigan." Ferrosepuni wrapped her arms around the officer's arm, stroked the brim of her hat that didn't exist, and motioned to McCandless and the others, "Gentlemen, ......" and then there was a burst of "Latimo", "Mellon", and "Ofosis" in the group of reserve black-walled troops.

"War is not child's play, we encircle and suppress the purple blood, he is not a turtle in an urn." Caspore sighed, rubbed his hands and turned the kettle to pour a sip of cold pure water. Although the drinking water supplied to the purple poncho is a high-grade filtered pure water specially supplied to Hydra by Longfor's headquarters, it will not be as dull and tasteless as ordinary distilled water and lacks certain elements. But it's not as good as whiskey on the riverbank with a private guard taking it out of the ice in a portable wine crate.

"They came to observe the battle between Hydra and Hydra, and not all armies have the luck to see our offensive and defensive arts, especially since this is a civil war." McCandless furrowed his eyebrows, which were obscured by his vision like a slashing blade.

"The adults said it wasn't 'us.'"

"You say they?" McCandless snorted. Half-dead ordinary soldiers, tired from pulling out armored vehicles, paralyzed like dead dogs.

"It's us."

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