Counterfeit Hero

Especially for those low-level pirates who lived like beasts and had no dignity, this simple establishment of faith and rigorous training had already transformed them.

Though they still couldn’t help wanting to rob anything valuable they saw or desire any beautiful woman they encountered. Though they sometimes still wanted to slack off, still liked to fight, drink, and gamble. However, their now strong bodies, the clean uniforms on them, and the trustworthy comrades by their side made them feel, for the first time, like they were human.

In a way, Fatty’s shaping of the bandit army focused more on psychological reinforcement.

As an expert in psychology, Fatty understood well how fervent some people could become when they finally found something to believe in.

In this era where soldiers from all countries only saw being a soldier as a profession, dreaming of promotion and a life of luxury, the warriors of the bandit army were purer, more obedient, and braver. The recklessness in their bones also made them more aggressive and wilder.

Fatty knew how to control such an army.

Whether it was running, fighting, mechanical control, or other basic subjects, regular subjects, and special subject training, Fatty always took the lead, setting an example.

His persistence, sweat, strength, and reckless temperament gained the recognition and even worship of every warrior. This worship was repeatedly magnified and eventually merged with every warrior’s belief.

Masquerading as an iron-blooded soldier, Fatty successfully turned himself into a War God, a pillar supporting all warriors’ future aspirations.

But now, this person had been attacked by a rocket! His life or death unknown!

Markovich, with red eyes, piloted the modified mecha and charged at the forefront.

Behind him were forty-nine identical mechas, with mecha warriors inside who also had red eyes.

Besides bandit army members, no one recognized these modified mechas. With short, stout bodies, folding legs. They moved on roads with front wheels and rear tracks, carrying wings on their backs and three-nozzle auxiliary thrusters with V-shaped point-to-point suspension. The mecha’s arms were long and strong, the right arm held an inverted crescent-shaped armor-piercing axe, and the left arm clutched a strange disc with four claws.

The mecha was crafted by Tian Xingjian.

Every warrior piloting this kind of mecha had witnessed how Fatty stayed up late every night, how he crawled through warehouses filled with parts, and how he repeatedly conducted high-intensity tests in the test field with mechas that were not yet fully operational. And how he taught everyone to control the mechas in the training field.

Although Fatty always wore a cheerful and nonchalant expression every day, everyone knew that during that period, he slept less than three hours a day.

I laugh at the sky with the Heng Dao, the liver, and gall as bright as Mount Kunlun.

On the day Leray lost the Bermuda Star System, the mecha was finalized and named [Heng Dao].

As long as they boarded the mecha and saw the control platform in the cockpit engraved with those two lines of poetry, every single person would be filled with hot blood.

Now, Heng Dao is unsheathed!

”Kill for me!”

That roar drowned out all sounds on First Avenue.

Explosions, gunfire, screams, and the metallic clashing during mecha fighting paled in comparison.

In fact, Markovich’s command was unnecessary. The few dozen bandit army mecha soldiers, with red eyes, had already rushed forward crazily.

A photographer hiding on the second floor of a building recorded the scene with trembling hands. This footage, when broadcasted, made every mech knight in the Free World, boastful of their superior skills, shudder in silence.

No words could describe such a scene. Fifty mechas that the people of the Free World had never seen before surged onto First Avenue like a hundred-meter-high wave in a tsunami. They moved quickly, their formation and steps very orderly, completely occupying the hundred-meter-wide flying car lane. In low air, a dozen mechas activated their auxiliary thrusters and charged forward, leaving behind three blue tail streams like the burning hooves of Hell Knights.

The attackers who had launched an assault on the Tai Sect Mecha Branch were stunned by the scene unfolding before them. The crowd swarming towards the entrance of the Mechanical Armor Hall, the pouring firepower flashing off, all paused at that moment.

A few support mechas, almost reflexively, turned around, aiming their machine cannon muzzles at the surging wave of mechas.

........

But it was all in vain.

When the energy cannon muzzles on the arms of these suddenly appearing mechas gathered and released blue light, and the metallic missile launchers on the mecha shoulders began to rotate madly, and when the six-missile launchers on their waists fired red-tipped missiles with white smoke streaking through the air....

Everyone knew that the attackers standing in their way were doomed!

At that moment, First Avenue became a true fiery purgatory.

There was no imagined close-quarters combat. Fifty mechas used overwhelming firepower, extending ruthlessly and madly forward as if Mount Tai was pressing down.

The white flashes of explosions, like a torrential rain ravaging a lotus pond, turned into a sea of light. Fires twisted and surged in thick smoke, energy cannons, machine cannons, missiles... different weapons covered the same spots. It was a cost-no-object, unrelenting, and ruthless massacre.