Sky-cracking Rider

It wasn't just Chekhov, everyone at Aircrew Base recognized this type of dual-mode handheld signal flare.

Pilots and ground personnel might both need it; it was an essential item for saving lives.

Once a distress signal was spotted, Aircrew Base's Z-9 armed helicopters would take off fully armed and then carry out search-and-rescue procedures.

If the person sending out the distress signal was alive and under attack, then Option A would be executed: first, a rocket barrage to clear the area, then the use of airborne machine guns to eliminate any stragglers, security team members would rappel down for a cleanup, and finally, the helicopter would land to rescue the person in distress.

If the person sending out the distress signal had died, then Option B would be initiated: a rocket barrage followed by machine-gun fire to cover any gaps, emptying all carried ammunition, while simultaneously calling in attack aircraft for additional rocket and heavy cruise missile barrages until all enemy targets on the ground were annihilated, avenging the fallen.

Bullshit about a gentleman seeking revenge after ten years; that's not the case here. A gentleman repays kindness with kindness and enmity with directness; revenge is taken on the spot, and with eighteen legs, escape from an aerial strike is impossible. If one attack aircraft can't solve the problem, then deploy two; if two aren't enough, send four.

There's no ground force that a Combat Flight Squadron can't take care of.

"Here, take this with you, and return it to me when you're back!"

Perhaps feeling that the weapons Chen Fei was carrying were too light, Chekhov directly handed over his own gun and an extra magazine.

It was a classic AK-47, an original product from the days of the former Soviet Union, from the most authentic factory over two hundred years old, the Izhevsk Armory, with its serial number still clearly stamped, certainly not one of those random fake goods you could find in the hands of nearby mountain villagers.

Such a valuable antique was priceless; to use it for hunting was an utter waste.

The 7.62mm caliber bullets would create a hole as big as a bowl in the prey, and with smaller game like pheasants, there would probably be nothing left but a pile of unrecognizable minced meat and feathers.

For creatures with tougher hide like wild boars, it was usually a one-shot deal.

Any terrestrial creature that couldn't be brought down with one shot would get two.

"Really, no need!"

Chen Fei showed a troubled expression; he wasn't lacking in guns.

Carrying one rifle was already heavy enough. Adding another, and a pistol from before, those unaware would think he was off to seek revenge on someone!

Or perhaps that he had lost his mind, taking on a weighted cross-country hike in the wilderness.

"If you don't accept it, you're not giving me, Chekhov, face!"

Chekhov started rolling up his sleeves and clenching his fists, which cracked ominously.

His stance was clear: you don't give me face, you won't get good treatment.

The Big Bear was simply unreasonable, with others joining in on the unruly encouragement.

"Take a heavy machine gun too, and I guarantee those bandits will stay clear of you."

"Do you want an anti-infantry directional mine? Great for clearing an area!"

"A grenade launcher is even more convenient, capable of rapid firing unmatched."

Birds of a feather flock together; those who would go hunting with Chekhov for days without returning were a bunch of bored and idle troublemakers.

Just think about it, setting up an anti-infantry directional mine near a rabbit burrow, it didn't matter how clever the rabbits were, the moment they showed their heads, they'd be remotely detonated.

After a boom, not even a rabbit hair would be left.

Do you call that hunting?

Hello, 911? There's just been a mass extermination here; a family of rabbits, spanning ten generations, over three hundred in number...

As for the heavy machine guns and grenade launchers, not just the bandits, even the locals would be scared witless at the sight.

Facing such enthusiasm, Chen Fei surrendered meekly and repeatedly waved his hands in refusal. If he carried a few guns and backed up with an anti-infantry directional mine, he was afraid he wouldn't be mistaken for seeking revenge, but rather as an arms dealer.

But his original intention was just to pay a visit to a fellow villager; he had no thoughts of setting up a little stall to sell arms and ammunition!

After a lot of persuasion and declining others' kindness, Chen Fei had no choice but to accept the AK-47 and magazine that Big Bear forcefully passed to him, which equated to an extra useless weight of over twelve pounds.

This gun, nearly a hundred years old, had undergone anti-corrosion treatment yet the birchwood stock was still slightly blackened, as if coated with a layer of varnish. It was not only capable of firing but also of smooth rapid-fire.

If those bandits saw it, they might find the gun to be more profitable than robbing money.

Without comparison, there is no harm.

Big Bear, with a stature like his namesake, patted Chen Fei, who seemed as slight as a bean sprout by comparison, and said, "Oh, and one more thing! The 'Genuine Fragrance' Squadron is looking to recruit pilots, internal staff get priority, and I've signed you up!"

His partner, codenamed "Lemongrass" Basong, was unlucky; he didn't manage to take off before the Metallic Dragons attacked and was killed on the spot. They definitely needed a jet fighter wingman and a turboprop attack aircraft fire control operator.

Familiar faces are better than new ones; Chekhov had his eyes on the very lucky Chen Fei, who took down the Dragon of Slaughter on his first attempt. With that kind of luck, nobody could compare with him, all the while pretending it was for Chen Fei's own good.

"Ah?! Hey, hey, hey, I don't want to sign up! Don't come to me!"

Chen Fei was a mess in the wind, ever since his close call the first time, which nearly cost him his life, he hadn't dared to set foot on a turboprop aircraft again.

Now, just looking at the cockpit made him feel weak at the knees.

Why be a pilot when you can be a happy mechanic? Isn't that just as "Genuine Fragrance"?

"That settles it, Rookie!"

Ignoring Chen Fei's protest completely, Big Bear called out cheerfully and his band of merry friends carried their prey, howling ghostlike and wolfishly, into the Aircrew Base 911.

Wasn't the Combat Flight Squadron at Aircrew Base 911 the epitome of "Genuine Fragrance"?

Genuine Fragrance!

"Chekhov, you son of a *bitch*!"

Chen Fei was so angry that he couldn't hold back any longer and flipped off the retreating figures.

The squadron leader of the Combat Flight Squadron had ears that were sharp as a fox's. He seemed to have heard from afar and raised his hand to make a V-sign.

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Turning his anger into strides, he stomped all the way and completed the three and a half-hour walk in just two and a half hours.

Close to noon, Chen Fei could see from a distance the yard made of stones and cement. The sound of reading aloud carried on the wind, sounding exceptionally pleasing to the ear.

He didn't plan to disturb them at this time and decided to stand at the entrance for a while, waiting for the class to end.

But to his surprise, just as he approached, a dog suddenly shot out of the yard. It barked loudly from behind the fence, making lunging motions.

Chen Fei was startled; he hadn't noticed a dog in the yard on his last visit.

Hearing the dog barking inside the yard, the reading paused, then resumed.

A door of a house opened, and a young girl peeked out.

"Who is it?"

"Teacher Shen, it's me, Chen Fei!"

Chen Fei replied in a hurry.

Being watched intently by that big yellow dog inside the fence, he felt apprehensive, afraid it might suddenly come lunging at him.

"Eh? Chen Fei, what brings you here?"

The local teacher, Shen Fei, sounded surprised.

Since there were no civilian mobile communication base stations nearby, there was no signal for mobile phones here. Daily communication depended totally on delivering messages by foot or with notes, or else shouting across the ravine, which explains why Chen Fei arrived unannounced—it was impossible for him to inform Shen Fei in advance.

"I came to return the pistol and also brought you some stuff."

Chen Fei quickly took the Type 95 automatic rifle from his back.

The little peach wood fish on the gun sight was still hanging there, and on the back and forth journey, he hadn't encountered the rumored bandits, not even a rabbit, so naturally, there was no use for it.

"I'm not in a hurry to use it, it's okay to leave it with you for a while. Now that you're here, why did you bring things!" Shen Fei said as she stepped forward in big strides, nudging the noisy big yellow dog behind the fence with a light kick, and scolded sharply.

"Ah Hu, stop barking and go away."

"Whine!~~~"

The big yellow dog whimpered and stopped barking, tucking its tail and obediently scampered off.

"Did it startle you?"

Shen Fei opened the door for Chen Fei and let him in.

"No harm done, just a bit of a surprise, oh, there's another dog here."

Chen Fei shook his head, about to say something, but then he suddenly saw beside the fence gate, *damn*!

In the corner position, a black dog with droopy ears and a lean body was staring intently at him, silent as a stone.

The dog's gaze was somewhat sinister, seemingly aimed at his lower body, causing him to instinctively shrink back, his sweat breaking out and hairs standing on end.

The ones that bite don't bark, those that bark don't bite—who would have thought that there'd be another dog in this yard, lying in ambush? If someone with ill intentions broke in, they'd probably be taken by complete surprise by this Big Black dog's bite.

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