Chapter 1114: Chapter 362: Hajimi North and South Road_3

The shaking finally brought Tutu a bit back to her senses. She clutched her forehead, face as pale as paper, like she could pass out any second. In a daze, Tutu forced herself to speak.

"Ha... Hajimi... North and South Road..."

Lancaster fell into thought when he heard that baffling sentence from her.

What does that mean?

Is that some foreign language?

Why isn’t even my translation app reacting?

A minority language or a dialect?

His guess wasn’t unreasonable. In military cryptography there were indeed plenty of cases of using dialects to avoid eavesdropping.

But the pity was, let alone them, maybe even the players themselves couldn’t understand what those lyrics were singing about.

"Old Roundhead, skip the track, I wanna listen to Night Ha."

When playing games, different players have different hobbies, and the most common one is starting a match with their favorite music playing in the background.

And Tutu liked "Kimi music" instruments more than anything else, so even the AI he bought got named Old Roundhead, and its overall design was based on that.

"Ha——"

Tutu, who had already switched class to Mechanic, was fully focused on controlling the drones in combat. As for someone invading his brain?

That would be handled by Old Roundhead Firewall. Just like normal people don’t really care how many network attacks their home firewall has blocked, Tutu simply had no time to check Tutu’s intrusion logs.

As long as it doesn’t affect my PC’s normal operation, nothing else matters.

——————

This little unexpected interlude didn’t even reach Wildman’s ears. He himself was standing on a hillside less than ten kilometers from the front line, watching the whole battlefield.

Even though there was surveillance, even though Sky Net was responsible for integrating battlefield data, he still chose to come see it in person.

Because here, he could see the overall situation of the battlefield most clearly.

According to the deployment, as the spearhead of the offensive, the tip of the synthetic battalion was three platoons borrowed from Super Earth. Almost all of them were first-echelon combat players; their fighting power and coordination were anything but weak.

An equal number of Cuban troops, even with the advantage of trenches, were like mud in their hands.

There were infiltration units in other directions too, but none as elite as this one.

While the others were still laying down suppressive fire, the spearhead platoon had already charged into the trenches for bloody close-quarters combat. Not even the direct fire from tanks and helicopters could stop them.

"They really can hold it in, huh. It’s come to this and they still won’t open up with artillery."

The Commander-in-Chief said with a grin as he stood beside him.

"They’ve taken a few hits before and don’t want to get baited again."

The players hadn’t been able to infiltrate the rear to pinpoint the enemy artillery positions, and the enemy couldn’t see this side either. Both sides were waiting for the other to make the first move so they could counter-strike.

But troop quality decides that without artillery support, the Cuban defensive line would only collapse faster.

Wildman shook his head.

"They’ve changed people. The previous commander wouldn’t have been this patient. In those battalion commanders’ eyes, these grunts are their life and power. Unless there’s no other choice, they wouldn’t have the cannon fodder hold the first line like this."

"Changed people? No way."

The Commander-in-Chief was skeptical, because changing generals on the eve of battle was a huge taboo, especially at a critical time like this. A newly arrived commander would be doing well just to figure out how many subordinates he had in a short time, let alone who should be doing what.

Unless there was a reason they had to change.

Unfortunately, the players hadn’t collected enough intel on Cuba’s internal situation. At best they could learn the unit composition and superior officers’ names from prisoners. As for interests and dealings, forget it— even the Military Technology side couldn’t make sense of that.

There were no intel specialists among the players. Facing a new opponent like Cuba, they were completely in the dark and could only learn as they fought.

The Commander-in-Chief said regretfully,

"What a pity. If only we had someone break into Cuba to gather intel."

Wildman still shook his head.

"Tough ask. Depends if the BOSS has any way."

Players didn’t have spy talents, and their style was too unique. Wherever they walked, they shone too bright; you could spot them at a glance.

The locals didn’t trust them either. For Horizon Corporation, building its own intelligence agency was anything but easy.

As the two finished talking, the enemy finally opened fire. White puffs suddenly rose from the forward positions, and the rapidly expanding shockwave trails could be seen even from ten kilometers away.

At least 120mm howitzers, and not a small number of them.

The landing point was exactly the main axis of the synthetic battalion’s attack, around the trenches already locked in close combat.

"Yo, there goes the artillery."

The Commander-in-Chief immediately contacted the artillery units for counter-battery fire. Even knowing the enemy likely had guns held in reserve, the same applied; under Family Joy’s guidance, they already had contingency plans for this situation.

"Blasting their own guys too, that’s real ruthless."

That made Wildman even more certain that the one in command couldn’t be the original superior of this unit.

But this kind of indiscriminate bombardment, not caring about friend or foe, might work on normal people. The truly reckless fear nothing; this kind of suicidal playstyle could scare off a lot of folks. But for players—

Chicken out?

I’ve never chickened out in my damn life.

If you’ve got the guts, let’s see whose skull is harder!

The precise artillery strike sent the bros who had just rushed into the trenches flying, slammed into the walls by the shockwave. Even with MT-3’s protection, they were rattled so hard their whole bodies were bugged, vision full of red, one arm straight-up broken.

If they were just flesh and blood, they’d probably be dead beyond dead by now.

"Fuck, cough cough..."

After catching his breath a little—

"Not today! liberty save me!"

Once that slogan came out, his legs stopped hurting, his breathing settled, and he even felt energized when he walked.

He sprang up from the ground in one roll and brushed the dust off his body.

The Cuban Soldiers in the nearby trenches were almost losing it. With shells this dense, they couldn’t even tell if it was friendly fire or enemy fire, and right at that moment they heard such a crazed roar.

Next thing, a black exoskeleton Soldier suddenly appeared and blocked the way. He alone filled the entire trench passage, with that trademark manic laughter and blood-red eyes.

"Hahahahahahaha!!!"

The front line broke.