Counterfeit Hero

The stereoscopic image on the virtual screen faithfully displayed every detail captured by the satellites. Dirt, jungle, streams, and that running Fatty.

The terrain in the screen kept changing as Fatty ran and the radar’s lock-on cursor moved rapidly. The distance of several kilometers was quickly covered. Patrol team after patrol team patrolling the surroundings were evaded by Fatty. Before reaching the defensive line, he had passed through more than twenty patrol zones as if there was no one there.

Once Fatty had grasped the rough positioning of the patrol teams, nobody worried that he would bump into one or face another combat like before. However, after passing the patrol zones, the new problem for everyone watching the SkyNet live feed was how Fatty would cross the defensive line.

The defensive line on No.6 Resource Highway consisted of numerous combination armored fortifications at either end of the road and trenches intricately networked with light bulletproof walls embedded within. These defensive points were situated on high grounds, extending towards the east. Each fortification and trench had adjacent defensive points that corresponded either in front, behind, to the left, or to the right.

The stationed troops at each defensive point were fixed combat units. The soldiers were very familiar with each other. Without a large-scale attack causing organizational chaos, it would be difficult for Fatty to blend in even if he wore their uniforms.

The only route available for Fatty to pass through was the vast open ground between the fortifications and trenches. However, these areas had been worked on by Engineering Mechas, turning jungles into flatlands. Barriers to prevent large-scale infantry charges crisscrossed the forefront of the positions. There were also many minefields in uneven locations.

Moreover, from the positions, it was a clear view with no place to hide.

Fatty could stealth, but it was a skill that required environmental usage, and he was not a magical creature that could disappear with a whim. Furthermore, these positions typically had several sensor alarms connected to SkyNet hidden about. Anything approaching the positions that didn’t belong to them could unknowingly summon a patrol team or trigger a barrage of shellfire.

Currently, on the No.6 Resource Highway, heavy military trucks moved slowly one after another like a dragon with no visible head or tail, escorted by Mechas and combat armored vehicles on both sides. On the flanks of the nearby positions, one could see fully armed soldiers ready in combat positions. Until the convoy had completely passed, the alert defenses around the highway were as tense as the sound of wind through the trees.

In the SkyNet live feed, Fatty stopped on a small hill less than a kilometer away from the No.6 Resource Highway.

This small hill was already on the jungle’s edge. Beyond that was the No.6 Resource Highway and the defensive formations stretched on both flanks. Just ahead of Fatty to the right was a higher high ground. There, several combination armored fortifications stood like plum blossoms, overlooking the trenches situated to their left front.

As they watched Fatty inch forward like a caterpillar, everyone had their palms sweaty, not knowing how he could find a way through in such a situation.

Special Soldiers Rashid and Stewart put themselves in his shoes for a while and finally determined that Fatty’s only chance of passing through was to wait for the convoy to pass and the soldiers on guard duty to withdraw from the positions. If that were the case, it meant that Fatty would have to stay there for several, if not ten-odd hours.

Fatty clearly did not think so. He hid in the jungle, observed with the telephoto lens on his combat helmet for a long time, and then wriggled back the way he came.

”Taking a detour?” This was the first thought in everyone’s mind. Bonnie quickly analyzed the electronic map, trying to find a way through. But soon, she gave up this effort. For dozens of kilometers around this area, there were similar tight defensive lines.

Fatty retreated deep into the jungle, turning east and walking several hundred meters before stopping under a steep cliff more than four meters high. He connected his Combat Assistance Device on his arm to a microcomputer, fiddled with it for a while then put it back as it was. Next, he rolled on the ground, tearing his clothes madly, took a capsule-like object from his backpack, and put it in his mouth, then took out a spray-like object and sprayed it hard against the corners of his mouth.

In front of SkyNet, the atmosphere became strangely silent. Watching him, in just a moment, the guy had turned into a soldier barely alive! He looked around, tidied up his things, chose a comfortable spot, took a pitiful pose, and lay on the ground. The audience was so shocked their mouths could swallow ducks’ eggs.

”Too despicable...” a military advisor wailed, covering his face. Even an idiot would know what Fatty planned to do! What they didn’t understand was how Fatty’s backpack still had such a performance prop! Seeing his skillful makeup and pose, he must have done this kind of thing more than once.

Several minutes later, the distress signal Fatty sent through the Combat Assistance Device took effect. Several soldiers, who hurried over through the SkyNetwork Coordinates, found him accurately.