Hart Gustav, leading a group of American mecha warriors, surrounded Jing Mingqiu. Their eyes, like those of hungry wolves, fixed intently on him.
"You're completely surrounded. It's too late to play dumb! Twelve hundred against one, I don't believe you can escape!"
"Escape? Why should I run?" Jing Mingqiu spread his hands, feigning a complete lack of defense. "Open your eyes and see clearly. Who is surrounding whom!"
Hart Gustav let out a mocking smile. "What? Jing Mingqiu, you're going to claim you've surrounded all of us yourself!"
Sensing something was amiss due to Jing Mingqiu's composure, William Ster hastily raised his voice and shouted, "Stop the nonsense! He's stalling for time. Attack immediately! Whoever captures Jing Mingqiu alive will be promoted three ranks and receive an additional bonus of one hundred million US dollars!"
One hundred million dollars was merely a minor target for the higher-ups, but for these American grunts, it was an astronomical sum, enough to make them fight with everything they had, not to mention the three-rank promotion.
With William Ster offering such a staggering reward, all twelve hundred mecha warriors fell into a frenzy, launching their attacks with abandon.
Facing the American soldiers charging at him like ravenous wolves, Jing Mingqiu's smile widened. He raised his arm and snapped his fingers lightly.
"Boom!"
With a deafening explosion, the ground twenty meters around Jing Mingqiu suddenly collapsed, forming a bottomless pit. Immediately after, countless streams of light surged forth from the chasm.
In the blink of an eye, these streams of light turned and surrounded the American mecha brigade. Then, their true forms were revealed.
Mechs! They were all mechs!
"Hey, you over there," Jing Mingqiu raised an eyebrow, "Open your eyes and look. Who is surrounding whom now!"
Witnessing the vast, and still growing, army of mechs emerging from below, Hart Gustav was utterly bewildered!
"William! You absolute idiot, didn't you say there was only one mech here? Didn't you say we could overwhelm them with numbers? Why are there so many suddenly? We're now outnumbered ten to one!"
"Hart, don't panic," William Ster was also confused as to why Chinese mechs were emerging from beneath their own military base. However, to prevent Hart Gustav from fleeing without a fight, he quickly tried to placate him.
"Aside from that Silver Dragon mech on Jing Mingqiu, the rest are just scrap metal. What good is quantity?"
"The ones you are wearing are the products of several high-tech innovations by America. Each one is worth more than its equivalent in silver. How can they possibly be your match? They are just walking targets for merit..."
While William Ster was busy spewing his persuasive rhetoric, the Afghan soldiers who had emerged from underground, filled with righteous fury against the invading American soldiers who had committed countless atrocities in their country, could no longer hold back.
At Jing Mingqiu's command, driven by national hatred and revenge, they ignored the fatigue from excavating tunnels all night and immediately roared, piloting their mechs forward.
Both sides were clad in mechs, rendering ordinary long-range weapons ineffective. Close-quarters combat was far more efficient.
For a time, flesh and blood flew, severed limbs and gears splattered with oil. It was modern warfare, yet it was more brutal than ancient close-quarters combat.
America, indeed, was a seasoned technological power. Their newly developed mechs, though lacking controllable nuclear fusion technology and crystal batteries, resulting in slightly inferior endurance, were by no means inferior to China's mass-produced standard military auxiliary mechs in terms of output power. In a one-on-one duel, it would be hard to say who would win.
But alas, this was a war, not a competition. There was no such thing as a one-on-one fight.
The mere twelve hundred American mechs, facing more than ten times their number of Chinese mechs, were no longer merely struggling with being outnumbered; their combined limbs weren't even a fraction of their opponents'.
Within a mere twenty minutes, the outcome of the battle was decided. Over two hundred Chinese mechs on the Afghan side were rendered combat-ineffective, while all twelve hundred of America's newly developed mechs were completely annihilated.
After dealing with these American mechs, the Afghan soldiers showed no intention of stopping. They dispersed in all directions, setting fires and wantonly destroying the Americans' various military equipment.
Aircraft, tanks, radar, radios, ammunition depots, command centers…
Facing mechs that were impervious to blades and spears, the ordinary American soldiers' guns were no different from firecrackers. They could only cry out in terror and flee in all directions.
"Help! Don't kill me, don't kill me!"
"God! Save your lost sheep! I don't want to die!"
"What did we do wrong? Why must you annihilate us!"
It wasn't that no one attempted to fight back. They dragged out heavy machine guns from the armories, deployed volley rocket launchers, and even large-caliber cannons, roaring as they launched attacks on the Afghan soldiers clad in Chinese mechs.
The idea was sound, but they had overlooked a crucial point. The reason the newly developed Chinese mechs were called auxiliary mechs, and not by any other name, was because these mechs could enhance a soldier's combat capabilities in all aspects.
This included, but was not limited to, hearing, vision, reaction speed, and mobility!
No matter how powerful a gun was, it was useless if it couldn't hit the target.
As soon as these heavy weapons were set up, they were immediately locked onto by the scanning function of the Chinese auxiliary mechs, marked with red indicators, awaiting either a missile strike or direct dismemberment by the Afghan soldiers.
Jing Mingqiu flew high in the sky, observing the hellish scene before him with no hint of mercy in his heart.
After all, similar massacres were not unprecedented on the land of Afghanistan. Once upon a time, American soldiers had wielded their blades, wantonly slaughtering innocent Afghan civilians.
Executions by firing squad, immolation, slow slicing, sword kills, human experimentation…
The crimes committed by the American military in Afghanistan were too numerous to be recorded.
Karma, a cycle of retribution, was an immutable law. Those who kill will be killed, and beasts deserve no pity; this was their rightful end.
Faced with the one-sided slaughter by the Afghans, many American soldiers completely broke down mentally, kneeling on the ground with their hands raised.
"I surrender, I surrender! Don't kill me!"
"I was wrong! I was truly wrong. I shouldn't have massacred civilians. I shouldn't have acted on lust!"
"I'm sorry! I was truly wrong, I'm willing to pay compensation, just don't kill me!"
For those who knelt and surrendered, their only response was a string of cold bullets.
When the Afghan people had knelt and begged for their lives back then, they were brutally tortured and killed by these American soldiers. Now, they thought surrender would save them? There was no such good fortune in the world!
A life for a life, a debt for a debt; that was fairness, that was true fairness!
William Ster, who had just been escorted to the underground command center by his subordinates, observed the heavy losses of the American forces under attack from Afghan troops via satellite imagery. He couldn't help but roar at those around him.
"Where are the heavy weapons? Where are the tanks? Where are the planes? Bring them all out! I refuse to believe that a pile of scrap metal can sweep through America's well-equipped army of two hundred thousand!"
"Commander," his adjutant said with tears welling up, "The planes and tanks can't move! Our fuel hasn't arrived yet!"
"As for the heavy weapons, they are too fast for us to lock onto! I just can't figure out how China managed to dig tunnels all the way under our feet!"
Hearing this, William Ster suddenly suppressed his anger. He removed the cross necklace from his neck and clasped it in his palm, his expression growing more peaceful. "Relax, don't worry. God has already given me guidance."