Illinois Beach on the outskirts of Venezuela, the stronghold of the Spear of God. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

The steel stronghold, which had been purged, had been devastated by the bombing. However, the surface of the camouflage barracks that was upside down on the ground was only blown up to a pitted surface, and it still maintained a complete and solid building structure, which shows that the building materials of this stronghold are excellent.

These barracks buildings can be immediately converted into fortifications in wartime, and the rapid-fire cannon buried deep in the armor sticks out of the black barrel of the aiming hole, silently pointing into the sky.

In the gaps between the buildings, the wreckage of cluster rocket launchers destroyed by fighter jets abounds. They were scattered in the open space, lying horizontally and vertically on the ground, and some of the bases were pierced, and the entire launch frame was broken to the ground; Some were delighted into a blast frame and completely blown up into ruins. The once-bustling stronghold has been transformed into a grave of steel shards.

More than 100 power armors that have turned the tide and turned the tide of the war have been withdrawn to underground bunkers to prevent satellite photography.

In the underground operating room, the veteran mercenary commander Mitchell Canukou wakes up – a hard-nosed Chilean who has been in a coma for two days after undergoing surgery to remodel his temporal lobe tissue, and has been taking medication to suppress cerebral edema. As a result, he had to take regular medication and sleep, which became the biggest burden for him to command the battle.

Admittedly, when Dr. Kuhlman came to inspect the base, the Chileans did not expect that the old bastard would even be plotting against him, the commander.

Mitchell Canukou has a natural flaw: his surname. The Aboriginal surname "Kanukou" has caused him to suffer discrimination in society. Even the companies that hired people preferred to recruit "aristocratic castes" with noble French surnames or orthodox Spanish names, and disdained natives like him, even for interviews.

In their eyes, a superior European surname implied that the person had a wealthy colonist ancestor; Naturally, they have a better family environment and a better tertiary education than indigenous peoples. Such a person should be a step above the average "native" in terms of qualifications.

Mitchell Canukou will one day be unable to endure this pervasive discrimination and torture. He chose to become a mercenary, using the strength and vigor that his ancestors had gifted him to earn wealth.

It turned out that the fighting power of the natives completely outburst the reserved and noble European aristocracy. Mitchell Canukou learns the art of killing while crawling; Comprehend the art of conducting in the rain of bullets. He rose to fame in the mercenary world, rising through the ranks of the mercenary world, eventually becoming the leader of a mercenary army with a high reputation, accepting the Spear of God's generous employment agreement - even if his mercenary recruits slept in the stronghold for a day, the bank would receive more than the monthly salary of the "white-collar aristocrats".

This was a counterattack in Mitchell's life, but it drew a hasty end for him.

The Venezuelan Defense Forces had long since retreated in a crushing defeat, and the Illinois fishing village was immersed in perfect calm. This temporary peace gradually stabilized Mitchell's abnormal heart rate, like a fried fish to calm down. He barely supported himself to get up, put on his camouflage uniform, and moved towards the tactical table.

"Sergeant." A mercenary brought him hot water and medicine and saluted. The rank of mercenary is not recognized internationally, so Mitchell simply divided the internal command ranks: sergeant, sergeant, corporal, private. He ordered his men to call himself "Sergeant." ”

Mitchell took the medicine and waved his hand gently, signaling that his subordinates could defecate themselves.

"Yes, Sergeant." The mercenaries saluted again and left.

Mitchell moved to the tactical table, like drunk, and had to hold on to the cold edge to get his feet. After an "awakening of God", the awakened Mitchell is as weak as a fish paralyzed in the desert.

He rested on the tactical table. Glancing over the messy sand table, I saw a stack of "Longinus Plan" plans on it.

As soon as he saw this proposal, Mitchell's anger rolled in his veins, but his brain suddenly hurt, because when he recalled the details of "The Longinus Project", the temporal lobe of the brain that had undergone surgery was congested and painful, as if even the memories would reveal fresh scars.

Mitchell hugged his head, buried his head in his breath and screamed, even if the pain was severe, he desperately recalled and remembered the scenes of "The Longinus Project".

"I very much support your position, dear Mitchell, that indigenous peoples should fight for equal and legal rights, just like the black people in the Americas!" Dr. Kuhlman's courteous smile crossed his mind: "As your infusion, the Spear of God cares deeply about your feelings. Yes, only strength can earn respect, but not enough, dear, your strength is not enough. In addition to providing advanced equipment, the Spear of God is willing to share with you the latest research results, which will greatly enhance the combat effectiveness of the soldiers, who will be unleashed to their buried potential to fight like the gods of the mortal world - yes, dear Mitchell, we will share all of this, it is the sincerity of the Spear of God. ”

Like a superb salesman, Kuhlman took out this "Longinus Plan" and shook it solemnly in front of Mitchell: "The human brain is terrifyingly large, but only 5% is exploited, think about it, only 5% of your brain cells are working, and the rest of the potential is sleeping!" But our scientists have learned the mysteries of neuromechanics, and we can help you develop more of your brain's potential and become an invincible superhuman! Oh yes Mitchell, it's that magical! All you need to do is order your soldier to lie down on this semi-automatic brain operating table and perform a small minimally invasive operation - I promise that there will be no sequelae, no pain or injury, and we will be able to open that mysterious little mechanism in your brain, and you will get off the operating table as easily as if you have been bitten by an ant! Trust me, there are absolutely no side effects, and my promise is much more reliable than those doctors! ”

"That's what you said when you hit nails in the poor drivers."

Mitchell only asked one question, and Kuhlman began to defend himself with a lot of words: "How can you compare this noble technology to the power armor driver modification?" Hey, those mercenaries who were nailed to the spinal needle are all voluntary, think about it, with only daily immunosuppressants and antibiotics, these pilots can activate the power armor as indestructible as the Ares God of War, and gain the power of the gods! I bet that even if the gods of Olympus appeared on the horizon, they would be torn to shreds by our power armor! So it's worth it, think about it, how many organ transplant patients in the world are taking immunosuppressants? Will they be able to gain the power to rival the gods? No! Because they don't have that luck, unlike you lucky ones! ”

Mitchell continued to recall, his head hurting even more, and the temporal lobes seemed to be embedded in an electric drill that rotated 5,400 revolutions per second, churning at his brain in small pieces. (To be continued.) )