"Missile! Missile!" Fatty shouted hoarsely.

"Don't worry, General." The pilot smiled reassuringly.

"..."

"Missile! Missile!" Fatty was terrified.

"I know!" The pilot snapped impatiently.

"..."

"Missile! Missile!" Fatty was still yelling.

"Shut up!" The pilot lost it, ignoring rank and yelled angrily.

The fighter jet rolled, the nose suddenly pulled up. As the jet engine roared, Fatty grudgingly shut his mouth, watching in horror as the missile on the radar got closer.

The entire fighter jet squadron dispersed only when the missile entered the lock-on region. After launching their own decoy intercept missiles, the twenty-four jets coalesced into twelve two-plane teams, scattering like a blooming trumpet flower.

Years of experience in missile interception meant these pilots were not flustered, and all their actions were swift and precise, timed to perfection.

The missiles that had just locked onto their targets couldn't change direction fast enough under the high-speed interception of decoy missiles heading straight towards them. Seconds later, a series of thunderous explosions echoed in the sky. Only a few missiles survived the interception but lost track of the jets, circling in the air before automatically exploding when they ran out of power.

"Missile! Missile!" Fatty started shouting again.

"Where?" The pilot tensed up immediately, there was no reaction on the radar, and nothing in his sight—this was every pilot's worst fear.

"Are there no more?" Fatty asked, looking around curiously.

"..."

The fighter jet flew over the roaring cannons of Jiacuo, beginning to lower its altitude. On the radar, the blinking lights representing the second and third waves of missiles quickly approached.

"We're here..." The pilot gritted his teeth and pulled the rear seat ejection lever. Fatty was ejected like a missile. Amid his piercing screams, the fighter jet ascended gracefully like a hawk.

"Missile, missile!" The pilot muttered.

"Damn it!" Fatty, in free fall, scrambled and finally pressed the parachute activation button less than two hundred meters above the ground. With a muffled sound, three tentacle-like mechanical arms shot out from his backpack, quickly descending towards the ground.

When Fatty was less than thirty meters from the ground, with three light sounds, the mechanical claws at the ends of the arms dug into the soil, and the flexible arms began to bend segment by segment, precisely and swiftly counteracting Fatty's downward momentum.

"Ow!" After a scream, the people surrounding the central information station, watching Fatty's descent, covered their eyes simultaneously.

A horizontal tree branch had wedged between the three mechanical arms. Although Fatty's descent was slow, it was still too much for his other parts to handle. With a snap, the screen showed Fatty sitting on the ground with bulging eyes, clutching himself and wailing.

"Fatty! Are you okay?" Nia was so anxious she almost cried, grabbing the microphone to ask.

"This is SkyNet surveillance, he can't hear you." Bonnie bit her lip, watching the wailing Fatty with a peculiar expression, unclear if she was concerned or amused.

After a long while, Fatty finally caught his breath, struggling to remove his backpack, sitting on the ground clutching his belly and legs.

"Big Brother..." Jerk evidently didn't realize that the little kid had most of the SkyNet satellites aimed at him, after hesitating for a while, lowered his head and opened his pants, pulling out his parts to inspect left and right: "Are you okay?"

"Pft!" The virtual screen's scene caused Bonnie's face to flush, spitting and turning away. Nia covered her eyes, stomping her foot and shouting: "Damn Fatty, you'll die!"

The few regimental commanders exchanged glances, their faces reddened from suppressing laughter until they couldn't hold it anymore, one by one laughing hysterically, clutching their sides and wiping tears. What on earth was in this division commander's head?

On the screen, Fatty looked around, and finally, with some distress, rubbed and tucked himself back into his pants. Standing up, he used the Combat Assistance Device on his arm to determine direction and began sprinting relentlessly towards Christers Base.

The subsequent SkyNet images stunned everyone in the central information station; the earlier laughter had completely quieted, each person staring in disbelief.

On the virtual screen, Fatty swiftly crossed a field, sliding down a small slope with his hands and feet close to the ground. Then, with a burst from his legs, jumped over a creek like an agile deer, taking a few steps before scaling a nearly vertical cliff.

The cliff was steep, yet Fatty climbed effortlessly, alternating his legs, each stretch propelling his body upwards—almost acting like it was flat ground. Nearing the cliff top, he grabbed a vine, swinging up like a monkey.

Reaching the cliff top, Fatty let go of the vine, and amidst everyone's exclamations, he clung to the edge with one hand, rolling his body into an "I" shape. Before touching the ground, his feet horizontally landed on a large tree, and after curling his body and then a sudden push, he launched like a cannonball into the forest. With several successive leaps, he had already sprinted a hundred meters in the dense vegetation within seconds.

Everyone at the central information station was left speechless in astonishment.

Was this figure darting through the jungle really the seemingly clumsy Fatty? A leopard probably couldn't run as fast as he could!

Six military satellites locked onto the same target in alternating tracking, for a full hour, everyone just stared dumbfoundedly at the screen as Fatty ran tirelessly. From start to finish, his speed never slowed down! This exceeded everyone's understanding.

Fatty is a formidable Special Soldier. But, Special Soldiers are still human! To sprint at such near-max speed for an hour in mountainous terrain, who could achieve that? Moreover, everyone present knew, this wasn't just simple running; Fatty had also mastered stealth skills of a Special Soldier. His sudden changes in direction, his disappearing stealth maneuvers, his agile navigation, were if not for pre-locking, if not for each duo of satellites tracking from all angles, several times they almost lost him!

This guy, he's like a fat fox in four-color camouflage combat gear!

"Boom!" The distant sound of an explosion brought everyone at the central information station back to reality, realizing this was Desic's forefront forces clashing with the suburban infantry defenses. Immediately, the roar of our countless self-propelled artillery and the shrieking missile launches arose, slight tremors began appearing in the Command Mecha.

Several regimental commanders hurriedly left, those marched back to Prisk's outer periphery still needed their command. Before exiting the Mecha bay, a few turned back to Bonnie and said, "Later, send us the SkyNet sync codes, let's see how long our division commander can keep running!"

.

.

.

(To be continued, for more chapters, please visit www.qidian.com, support the author, and support official reading!)

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.