High Martial Arts: From Mechanic to Sword Immortal

On this desolate wasteland.

It's such a vibrant scene.

Tens of thousands of acres of farmland were surrounded by tall psionic fences.

On the fence, countless runes shimmered with a pale golden light.

This forms a huge hemispherical protective shield.

It completely isolates the polluted air from the outside world and the hungry low-level monsters.

In the fields, the most important grain crop of the East Sea Fortress City is planted—purple crystal wheat.

This genetically modified and psionic crop has ears of wheat that are not the usual golden yellow.

Instead, it presents a crystal-clear, mysterious purple color.

It is currently in its mature stage.

The wind blows, and the purple wheat waves roll.

Each plump grain of wheat refracts tiny sparkles in the sunlight.

This is not a wheat field at all.

This is clearly an endless land paved with crushed diamonds!

"This is fucking... all money."

The first thought that popped into Han Feng's mind was incredibly vulgar, yet strangely true.

You should know that this kind of amethyst wheat sells for ten contribution points per pound in the official store in the inner city.

The endless purple ocean before us is a flowing mountain of gold.

Amidst the purple waves of wheat, several enormous dark figures are moving slowly.

They are armed harvesters for the farm.

It is enormous, with its body covered in thick composite armor plates.

The vehicle even had a twin-mounted psionic machine gun mounted on its roof.

The front end is a huge rotating blade wheel capable of shredding everything.

It's less like agricultural machinery and more like a mobile steel war fortress.

"Attention all aircraft, prepare for landing."

Captain Zhang Hao's calm voice rang out in the communication channel.

"The farm's helipad number one has been cleared."

"Watch out for crosswinds; the turbulence here is a bit strange."

Eleven fighter jets began to circle and descend.

The moment he passed through the psionic shield, Han Feng felt the fuselage dip slightly.

This is the unique feeling of resistance when moving from a sparse spiritual energy environment to a high-concentration spiritual energy environment.

He took a breath.

The concentration of spiritual energy here is even higher than that of the elite area of ​​Donghai Martial Arts University, which is refreshing.

The running track is a hard dirt road simply paved with gravel and quick-drying cement.

Rough and visibly uneven.

One by one, the fighter jets landed.

Just before touching down, Gu Yun's fighter jet, named "Crimson Witch," actually pulled up its nose in a very flamboyant manner.

It drifted down at an incredibly light angle.

The landing gear lightly touched the ground, without making a sound.

Then, he executed a beautiful fishtail brake at the end of the track.

The exquisite anime witch pattern on the wing shone brightly in the sunlight.

A cloud of dust, exuding a carefree air, was raised.

This attracted the attention of a group of farm workers who were carrying supplies on the ground, who all turned to look and exclaimed in amazement.

"Perfect landing!"

Gu Yun shouted triumphantly in the channel.

"I'd give my Alice a perfect 10!"

"Fancy and overly complicated."

Wang Meng muttered something.

His heavy fighter jet, painted with a gaping shark's mouth, crashed onto the runway with a loud "boom."

The ground trembled.

It was Han Feng's turn.

The "gray donkey" crashed straight to the ground with a heavy whistle.

They didn't care about graceful posture at all.

"Thump—!"

A terrifying, thud that made your teeth ache.

The two massive wheels smashed two shallow craters into the ground.

The billowing dust, like an exploding smoke screen, shook the ground.

The massive drag chute suddenly opened, gripping the heavy fuselage tightly.

It came to a stop just at the end of the runway.

The hatch opened, and a wave of heat, a mixture of the smell of wheat and dust, rushed out.

Han Feng took off his helmet.

Before I could even jump off the plane, I heard a scream through my headset.

"No! My Alice—!"

Gu Yun's voice sounded very stern on the communication channel.

Han Feng looked in the direction of the sound.

The "Scarlet Witch," with its extremely flamboyant paint scheme, was parked not far away.

Gu Yun was lying on his beloved wing.

He was holding a piece of snow-white microfiber deerskin cloth in his hand.

Right in front of a small speck of mud splashed on the underside of the wing.

He wiped it carefully.

He moved as if afraid of using too much force and scratching his "wife's" delicate skin.

"Damn dirt road! Damn gravel!"

Gu Yun muttered to herself as she wiped.

His tactical sunglasses were askew on his nose, and his eyes were full of frustration.

Alice's skirt is dirty!

"This was done with advanced nano-polishing just yesterday!"

"These farmers, who have no understanding of art, can't even bear to pave an asphalt track!"

Wang Meng jumped off the plane carrying the huge alloy battle axe.

As she passed by Gu Yun, she rolled her eyes without any politeness.

"Alright, stop howling."

"When the fighting starts, you'll be lucky to have the monsters' brains all over your face."

"You don't know anything!"

Gu Yun suddenly turned her head, her eyes filled with a look of hatred that seemed to want to devour Wang Meng alive.

"This is blasphemy!"

"The scars left by battle are medals, the mud is a stain!"

"Alice is a noble elemental mage, how could she be tainted by such mundane dust!"

Just then, a convertible electric SUV kicked up a cloud of dust.

It sped towards us from the direction of the farm's office area.

Before the car had even come to a complete stop, a middle-aged man wearing dark blue overalls and with slightly receding hair jumped out of the vehicle.

Zhou Ping, deputy director of Jinsui Farm.

He had a big smile on his face.

Two hands, covered in oil, vigorously rubbed against the equally oil-stained trouser legs.

He quickly approached the members of the Sharp Sword Squad.

Gu Yun immediately stopped wailing, quickly straightened her collar, and adjusted her sunglasses.

He strode quickly to his fighter jet.

He leaned against the nose of the plane, striking what he considered his most stylish and artistic pose.

He specifically chose this side angle for this mission.

This angle perfectly showcases the white-haired witch illustration on the side of the fuselage, a final work by the renowned artist "Oni-Hand".

Only one of its kind in the entire Donghai City.

He waited, anticipating the farm manager's impending exclamation and praise.

Normally, even a country bumpkin who doesn't know anything about art would be able to help but exclaim in admiration when he sees such exquisite works of art.

Zhou Ping jogged over, his eyes quickly scanning the crowd.

Gu Yun slightly raised her chin.

A perfectly measured, reserved smile, befitting the elite class, curved at the corners of his lips.

Prepare to receive the adoration of the strong.

however.

Zhou Ping's gaze lingered on him and that magnificent fighter jet for less than a second.

His gaze was indifferent and detached.

The next second, Zhou Ping's eyes suddenly lit up!

A sharp glint flashed in his eyes!

He completely ignored Gu Yun, who was still maintaining his handsome pose.

Their pace even quickened a bit.

It whistled past Gu Yun with a gust of wind.

Gu Yun's smile froze instantly.

Zhou Ping rushed straight to Han Feng's "Gray Donkey," a bulky, dusty vehicle that looked as ugly as a donkey.

"Oh! This is it! This is it!"

Zhou Ping's voice trembled with excitement.

He ignored the scorching heat still lingering from the engine.

He stretched out his hands and stroked the rough, heavy landing gear of the "Grey Donkey".

"Look at those sturdy tires!"

"Look at this powerful hydraulic rod!"

"This is fucking real good stuff!"

As soon as Han Feng jumped down the suspended ladder, Zhou Ping grabbed his hands.

That force was immense.

"Young man! Is that the heavy support aircraft?"

Zhou Ping shook Han Feng's hand forcefully.

That enthusiasm was like that of long-lost brothers reuniting.

"Did you bring it?"

"That 3-B model drive shaft?"

"And there are psionic cores specifically for combine harvesters?"

Han Feng was a little dizzy from being shaken, and quickly nodded.

"Yes, they're all in the maintenance pods under the fuselage."

"In addition, we also brought three spare high-strength hydraulic arms."

"That's great! That's great!"

Zhou Ping was so excited that he stomped his feet on the spot, and his eyes turned red.

Tears almost welled up on the spot.