dognovel Chapter 915 is gone, all of it is gone.
Chapter 915 is gone, all of it is gone.
left.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
The dull, rhythmic footsteps echoed in the darkness, and even amidst the sounds of gunfire, the sheer weight of each step, which made the ground tremble slightly, remained terrifyingly clear.
Two members of the "Sword of the Sea God" team, carrying submachine guns and attempting to flank the enemy, had just rushed into the bushes when they suddenly felt as if they had crashed into a moving iron wall.
A figure leaped out of the darkness, bathed in the unique blue glow of the holographic night vision device.
"What is that..."
The soldier's terrified scream caught in his throat.
A huge hand, gleaming with a cold metallic sheen, reached out and grabbed at you.
There are no fancy fighting techniques, only pure power and speed.
The metal hand, as if crushing a ripe tomato, pressed down on his head and lifted him into the air with one hand.
Immediately afterwards, the enormous creature did not pause for a moment.
Using the momentum of his forward charge, he raised the human shield in his hand and, like swinging a baseball bat, slammed it down hard on the soldier behind him who had just raised his gun.
"boom!"
The impact of a human body produces a chilling thud, accompanied by the cracking sound of bones breaking.
It flew off erratically for more than ten meters before crashing into a large tree and falling to the ground, lifeless.
"I saw it! A monster! It's that damned monster! It's made of steel!"
A soldier lying in a tree pit shouted desperately, firing his carbine wildly at the dark figure.
The 5.56mm rifle bullets that hit the monster only sent up a string of harmless sparks.
It didn't even flinch; it turned around, and a red light flashed on its T-shaped mask.
It raised its other arm.
"No...no no no! God—"
"boom--!"
A miniature missile, trailing a plume of flame, pierced directly into the narrow tree pit.
The shockwave and debris from the explosion completely overturned that small area.
……
"The thirty-second one."
Inside the cockpit.
Che Guevara, with a cigar end he had bitten off during the intense battle dangling from his mouth, stared intently at the holographic display screen in front of him, filled with various data streams.
In his view, the once pitch-black jungle now resembled a transparent stage stripped of its disguise.
Every tree and every dent is clearly visible.
And those trembling American soldiers hiding in the back were bright, dazzling, humanoid orange-red orbs of light.
Whether they were lying in the grass, hiding behind tree trunks, or even burying themselves under piles of dead leaves, nothing could conceal the warmth of life they radiated.
They have nowhere to hide.
This feeling is amazing.
Just a few months ago, Che was still in this dark rainforest, leading his brothers to hide like rats, constantly on guard against sniper shots from government troops.
But now, sitting inside this two-and-a-half-meter-tall steel behemoth, listening to the deep, powerful roar of the engine, and feeling the indestructible power emanating from the armor.
He truly believed that he held the power of judgment.
"Attention, two high-threat targets carrying rocket launchers at the 1 o'clock position to the side and rear."
The emotionless voice of the auxiliary AI left by Fang Yu came through the headset, and the two sneaky orbs of light that had circled behind him were highlighted with a red frame.
"I saw it."
He didn't turn around.
He simply manipulated a small turret on the back of the "Broken Army".
His thought was immediately met with a response from the armored system.
Two "Soul Chaser" miniature grenades, accompanied by two soft "thuds," flew over the treetops, tracing two perfect parabolas overhead, and landed precisely on the heads of the two soldiers who were preparing to launch their bazookas.
Explosions and screams rang out simultaneously.
Qie did not feel even the slightest pity for this.
Just a few days ago, these same people were arrogantly committing murder and arson on their own homeland, mocking them as country bumpkins.
"Country bumpkin? Ha."
A cold smile curled at the corner of his lips. He strode forward, piloting the "Broken Army".
The impact of a nearly three-ton mech operating at full capacity allowed it to run at a speed even faster than a cheetah across this complex jungle terrain.
Ahead, the remaining dozens of American soldiers had completely collapsed.
Tactics and formations are all a joke in the face of a monster that can see through all cover.
They threw down their weapons, crying and fleeing in all directions like headless flies.
But under such overwhelming information, running away is futile.
"Po Jun" caught up with the fastest machine gunner.
The man turned back in despair, before he could even get a clear look at the monster.
A massive, high-frequency vibrating tactical knife, ejected from under the armored arm, streaked through the air in a crescent-shaped flash of cold light.
The cutting sensation was even smoother than cutting a piece of cheese.
The person was still running, but their upper body had already slowly slid down from their waist.
Without looking at the scene, he turned around and raised the six-barreled machine gun.
The holographic screen's aiming assist circle had already captured the captain, who was hiding behind a boulder two hundred meters away and desperately shouting into the radio.
That's Jack.
"Control room! This is 'Sword of Poseidon'! We need backup! This is a trap!"
"We need artillery support... Zzz... What the hell is that... What the hell is that...?"
All the person on the other end of the radio could hear was the deafening roar of an electric motor, followed by a storm of gunfire.
"Sizzle... sizzle..."
With a long and unsettling busy tone, communication was completely cut off.
Silence returned to the jungle.
No, there are still some sounds.
It came from behind a large tree a hundred meters away, a whimper like that of a wild beast convulsing in extreme fear.
Po Jun's heavy footsteps shattered the spent cartridge cases and pools of blood as he walked forward step by step.
The once arrogant Cuban exile commander was now slumped at the base of a tree.
His American camouflage uniform was soaked through with what appeared to be urine or mud.
His face was covered in mud and someone's brain matter. His usually gleaming, ornate pistol lay just centimeters from his hand, but he didn't dare to even glance at it.
His wide-open eyes reflected the enormous black shadow that parted the branches and walked towards him.
The muzzle of the six-barreled machine gun was still steaming, and the tactical knife was still dripping blood.
And that cold, iron face with no facial features, only a T-shaped sensor glowing with a faint red light.
"Demon...devil..."
It gradually went limp.
He was terrified.
Che Guevara sat in the cockpit, watching this scene with a cold expression.
He made no further movement and did not fire another shot.
Killing such a cowardly man who is terrified would only dirty the blade of "Po Jun".
He turned on the loudspeaker in the cockpit.
"This is South America's first greeting to you bandits."
A deafening electronic synthesized sound echoed through the blood-soaked jungle.
……
Three minutes later.
Thousands of miles away.
Virginia.
In the communications room of the Naval Special Operations Command Center.
The young sergeant, pale-faced, removed his headset from the channel.
His hands were shaking so badly he couldn't even hold a pen.
"Sir..."
He looked up at the colonel who was walking in with a cup of coffee.
"What's wrong, kid? Have our heroes already started their victory barbecue party?"
The colonel asked with a smile.
"No...no more..."
The sergeant's lips trembled as he spoke.
"It's all...it's all gone..."