Chapter 314.1: Operation 'Warrior'

Late at night.

The West Continent City shrouded in silence was like a dead city. Only the 4th New District, flooded by the lake water, was flickering with sporadic lights.

In a simple sentry post, Greyhound wrapped in animal skin threw the damp wood into the brazier with a yawn, and then walked slowly to the peephole on the side.

Although the weather in April had turned warm, the air in West Continent City was still damp and cold, especially the 4th New District.

The whole city was flooded.

There were lumps of black stuff floating on top of the water in the street not far away from the sentry post, but the glistening water surface made it difficult to tell whether they were rotten wood covered with algae or the shells of Crackleclaw Crabs.

Although life here was inconvenient in many ways, it was still the best location for setting up a stronghold.

The backflow of the lake had paralyzed all the underground facilities in the entire city, so there was no need to worry about the elusive guerrillas.

Coupled with the fact that the Crackleclaw Crabs active in this area were the natural enemy of all living creatures, anyone who was not familiar with this area would find it difficult to move around.

So...

What was the point of having a sentry post?

Looking at the quiet street, Greyhound yawned again, and couldn't help but miss the time when he was still in the middle of River Valley Province.

That was probably the happiest time in his life.

They were so powerful back then. Wherever they went would be turned into a scorched land. They burned and looted everything, and did whatever they wanted to the captive slaves. No one could stop them, and no one was their opponent.

However, ever since they reached the south, everything started to go downhill.

First, they suffered an unexpected defeat in Clearspring City, and then they lost Bluestone County. Not only was their march to the south stopped, but they were even pushed back by a group of blue gophers.

Perhaps that group of blue gophers reignited the hope in the local resistance force; even the guerrilla attacks of the local resistance force became more and more frequent recently.

The group of survivors who hid underground were like rats, using homemade iron-pipe rifles and crossbows to sneak up on their patrols, and throwing cans filled with black powder into their workshops and garages where they processed bullets and explosives.

While Greyhound was thinking all of this, a creaking sound caused by the door being pushed open suddenly appeared downstairs.

Hearing the movement under his feet, he subconsciously grasped the rifle in his hand, and called towards the dark corridor behind him.

"Who is it?"

"I'm here to change shifts!" A voice appeared from the dark corridor. Soon after, a skinny man walked up from the direction of the stairs.

Greyhound heaved a sigh of relief seeing that it was one of his own.

"Change shifts? Isn't there still 2 hours left?"

"Boss' order, starting from tonight, the 6 hour shift will be changed to 4 hours, and we will do 2 shifts a day." The man replied.

Greyhound was dumbfounded.

At first, he was very happy to hear that someone was here to replace him, and that he was able to go back to bed and sleep, but now someone told him that he had to stand guard for another 4 hours later in the day.

"That is to say... I still have one more shift?"

The man obviously didn't want to work overtime either, and grunted with an annoyed expression, "Yes, it is probably another stupid idea that Dillon came up with. It's said to watch out for sneak attacks by blue gophers. Later on, the scope of night patrols will be expanded from around the 4th New District to the entire city area."

He originally respected that man, but that was a few months ago. Their forces were unstoppable back then, but now?

Huddled in the garbage like a sick old dog, he hated the humid air, the endless attacks, and the dirty rats even more.

Thinking about it now, even without that person's idea, they would still be able to defeat the survivors that blocked them in the past.

If it weren't for that goddamn caution, they would have already lived in the houses of those blue gophers in the northern suburbs last winter.

𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Greyhound looked surprised. "Sneak attack? This place is 20 kilometers away from the front line."

With the Pinewood Forest Valley in the middle, how will those gophers get here?

They aren’t going to dig a tunnel all the way here, are they?

"I don't know, but that's the order." The man pushed the crumpled map into Greyhound's arms. "Stop asking questions, and hurry up! No one is going to wait for you if you're late!"

Although reluctant, Greyhound who took the map still rushed downstairs with a rifle.

The location where he was going to stand guard next was outside the 4th New District. He had to go out on a raft with other marauders, and they had to undertake the mission of patrolling on the way to the new location.

Many survivors would come out to look for food during the dark, and most of the guerrillas also came out at this time. If he was left behind at night, it was tantamount to a death sentence.

The raft was already waiting downstairs.

Greyhound, who got on the raft, set off with the nine brothers. When he passed the alley, he finally saw clearly what was floating there.

It was a billboard covered in algae.

Greyhound couldn't understand what was written on it, but felt that the billboard looked like a coffin cover.

Frustrated by this fleeting thought, he averted his eyes from the billboard and chatted with the brothers who were traveling with him.

However, no one seemed to notice that on the undulating water surface that reflected the sky above the moonlit stinking ditch, a few imperceptible black spots flashed past quickly.

A fleet composed of 25 planes had arrived directly above their heads...

...

In the night sky.

Holding the control stick with both hands to fly the W-2 ground-attacking glider, Mosquito shouted excitedly in the communication channel, "This is the Goblin Corps Air Force. The cargo has been delivered to the airspace above the target area! We're ready to commence the operation at any time!"

The altitude where they were at was 3,000 meters above the ground. Coupled with the high-altitude airflow, as long as they didn't fire their guns or drop their bombs, no matter how loud the movement was, there was no need to worry about being heard by the people below.

At this moment, Night Ten, who was firmly tied to the back of the pilot's seat by nylon buckles, had almost lost feeling in his ears and cheeks due to the whizzing airflow outside the cockpit.

His body had long since become numb. Otherwise, he would have already cursed at Mosquito for calling them cargo.

In fact, Night Ten's current state was indeed no different from cargo.

The W-2 glider was a single-seat aircraft. There were no extra seats for passengers.

But this was obviously not a problem for the fully virtual reality game.

There was enough space between the rear of the cockpit and the pilot's seat to stuff another person, and the plane would still be able to take off after that.

Players themselves also didn't need to press F to enter the plane, and even if there was no seat in the cockpit, they would still be able to create a seat by themselves.

As for why Night Ten was tied to the back of the pilot seat... That was a long story.

In the morning, he and his teammates were still in the trenches on the front line fighting marauders passionately. They originally planned to hold out another 48 hours, but unexpectedly, they were transferred back to the rear before noon and were ordered to carry out a special mission.

Night Ten was quite excited at first, thinking that their outstanding performance in the battle must have triggered the hidden mission. But after he heard the specific content of the mission, he no longer thought so.

According to the combat plan formulated by the headquarters, they needed to take the gliders of the goblin corps and airdrop to the city area of West Continent City to destroy the enemy's strategic facilities and buy time for the frontline troops.

Their equipment had already been packed in the airdrop crates and dropped at the target location. The airdrop crates were equipped with locators removed from the VMs, they could be located even offline.

Although Brother Make Me had built a simple communication tower in West Continent City before, due to the relocation and redeployment, the communication tower had been out of power for more than a month.

They needed to use the radio station in the airdrop crate to build a new stronghold, or repair the communication tower.

Due to the fact that it was the airborne operation behind enemy lines, which involved a lot of risks, the use of Type 5 and Type 6 exoskeletons was restricted, and they could only carry light weapons and a small amount of support weapons with them.

But they were not alone because there were planes dropping supplies every night.

Thanks to the popularity of black stockings in Boulder Town, the chemical factory of the New Alliance had developed the technology of using biomass oil to produce nylon a long time ago, which solved the problem of parachute materials.

And when Goblin Technology was developing the glider before, they had actually produced a batch of parachutes. However, considering that the plane was more expensive than people, those parachutes were not distributed to the brothers in the Corps.

But the problem was that Night Ten had never parachuted before!

Night Ten was very nervous at the moment.

Everyone knew that parachuting alone without training was an extremely dangerous matter. It was no less dangerous than someone slipping their hand in russian roulette and shooting themselves in the head twice.

Especially when parachuting at night, it could be said that there were many ways that the parachuters could be killed because they couldn't see the situation on the ground clearly.

But could it be done?

Of course it was not impossible.

One of the biggest difficulties in parachuting was folding the parachute, and the other was landing. As for pulling the rope to open the parachute and control the balance, as long as one didn't encounter bad weather and could keep calm under special circumstances, although it was difficult, it was not as difficult as imagined.

The task of folding the parachutes had been carried out by the players who had relevant experiences in real life, which solved 50% of the problem.

As for the remaining 50%...

Players just needed to be more careful next time after they died.