High Martial Arts: From Mechanic to Sword Immortal

It is said that this man was a retired sergeant from the city defense army's heavy mech division.

During a beast tide, in order to cover his teammates, he used his arm to block the mouth of a monster, which is why he lost an arm.

Compared to Zhou Ping, who only knew how to bow and scrape, Lei Zhen's fierce aura was clearly more to the liking of these pilots.

Lei Zhen used his intact left hand to pull a pack of cheap cigarettes from his pocket, put one in his mouth, but didn't light it.

His sharp eyes swept across the cafeteria, finally landing on Han Feng's table.

To be precise, it landed on the tall pile of bones in front of Han Feng.

Being able to eat is a blessing.

Lei Zhen strode over, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

The iron chair creaked under his weight.

"In our line of work, if you don't have any money in your belly, you can't even move the lever."

His voice was rough, hoarse, and very harsh.

Han Feng wiped the grease from his mouth and nodded.

"Minefield Chief."

Lei Zhen grinned, revealing a set of teeth stained yellow by smoke.

He tapped the table with his mechanical hand, producing a clanging sound.

"Old Zhang told me that you drive that incredibly ugly 'gray donkey'?"

Gu Yun, who was standing next to him, immediately perked up his ears and a gloating expression appeared on his face.

See? Even the airfield manager thinks that plane is ugly.

However, Lei Zhen's next words froze Gu Yun's smile on his face.

"Good eye."

Lei Zhen raised that cold, mechanical thumb.

"We have to be tough and resilient to survive in the wasteland."

"I see those little brats all flying fancy 'Peregrine Falcons,' which look pretty, but when it comes to the beast tide and bayonet fighting, they'll all be crispy chickens."

As he spoke, he glanced, intentionally or unintentionally, at Gu Yun's pristine white flight suit.

"These days, some young people treat airplanes like women."

"They're waxing and painting all the time, aren't they afraid of being used as targets by monsters when they go up to the sky?"

Gu Yun was so angry that her face turned red, and she almost broke the chopsticks in her hand.

"This is painting art! This is faith!"

Gu Yun couldn't help but retort.

"Furthermore, my 'Scarlet Witch' boasts a state-of-the-art aerodynamic design, making it twice as fast as those cumbersome transport planes!"

"quick?"

Lei Zhen scoffed, his eyes filled with disdain.

"Young man, when you're surrounded by a dozen Ironwing Ravens one day, you'll realize that a millimeter of iron sheet thickness is far more useful than a tiny bit of speed."

He turned his head away, ignoring Gu Yun, and looked at Han Feng instead.

"Do a good job."

"The safety of the farm is in your hands these next few days."

"As long as you hold on, I'll have Lao Zhou prepare fifty catties of premium amethyst wheat for each of you to take away."

Han Feng's eyes lit up instantly.

Fifty catties of premium amethyst wheat!

That's a great item that can be exchanged for a lot of hard currency on the black market.

"Don't worry, Minefield Chief."

Han Feng stuffed the last piece of meat into his mouth and mumbled something indistinctly.

"As long as the money is right, all the monsters will be rendered useless."

Just then.

A sudden, sharp ringing of a bell echoed throughout the farm.

"Ring ring—!!!"

That's the signal to start the work.

The smile on Lei Zhen's face vanished instantly, and he stood up abruptly.

The aura that erupted in that instant made even Han Feng feel a bit of pressure.

"Work has started."

Lei Zhen looked out the window.

In the distance, several giant armed harvesters spewed black smoke, their massive blades spinning and emitting a sickening metallic scraping sound.

"You little brats, stop eating."

Lei Zhen's voice turned cold.

"Once the harvester starts moving, all those monsters and demons underground should come out and have their meal."

Han Feng quickly put down his plate and grabbed the helmet from the table.

He glanced at Zhang Hao and Wang Meng beside him; the casualness in their eyes had vanished, replaced by a sharp fighting spirit.

Even Gu Yun abandoned his arrogant demeanor and became serious.

Although this kid is a severe case of chuunibyou (middle school syndrome), he's still a member of the Sharp Sword Club, so he must have some real skills.

"Walk!"

Zhang Hao gave the order.

The group rushed out of the cafeteria and headed towards the helipad.

As Han Feng ran, he made plans in his mind.

The basic reward for this mission, plus the purple crystal wheat promised by Lei Zhen, and the materials from the monsters that may be hunted.

As long as we do this job well.

I'm not far from buying my first fighter jet.

"Grey Donkey, it's time for us to get to work."

Han Feng patted his helmet, a slight smile playing on his lips.

For money, and for that damn sense of security.

Upon arriving at the helipad, Han Feng discovered that the large rectangular maintenance pod under the "Grey Donkey" aircraft's belly had already been removed by the farm's ground crew.

Without that big belly, the "Grey Donkey's" bulky lines suddenly looked much cleaner.

Han Feng circled the "Grey Donkey" with great satisfaction, then called out to the ground crew who were organizing ammunition nearby.

"Could you two trouble you to load the ammunition belts full?"

Han Feng pointed to the ammunition supply port below the nose of the aircraft.

Although the "Grey Donkey" flies slowly, its firepower configuration is definitely superior to its class.

That 30mm six-barreled rotary cannon was originally intended for attack aircraft, but it was forcibly crammed into the belly of this plane.

The ammunition supply is a full 1,000 rounds.

Ground crew pushed the ammunition cart over, the golden armor-piercing incendiary shells gleaming captivatingly in the sunlight.

Han Feng picked up a bullet and weighed it in his hand; it felt heavy.

"This one shot gives you fifty contribution points."

He silently calculated it in his mind.

That's about the price of two pounds of pork.

"We need to be careful when we open fire later. Missing a shot is a loss, and missing is a crime."

Just as the ground crew were skillfully operating the ammunition feeder to "feed" the ammunition belt into the belly of the aircraft, a heavy and rhythmic vibration suddenly came from the ground.

Boom!Boom!Boom!

The sound grew louder as it approached, each tremor causing the fighter jets on the tarmac to shudder slightly.

"Holy crap! The big guy's out!"

Wang Meng's loud voice carried a hint of excitement.

Han Feng followed his gaze.

In the distance, a huge steel warehouse in the core area of ​​the farm could be seen, its alloy door, several meters thick, slowly rising.

Behind the door was a deep darkness.

Immediately afterwards, three bipedal mechs, each over three meters tall and entirely black, emerged with heavy steps.

Behind them followed dozens of smaller mechs of the same model.

"That's the farm's 'Ironclad Battalion'!"

Wang Meng's eyes lit up. He patted Han Feng's shoulder forcefully and began to introduce him as if he knew him intimately.

"See those four-meter-tall units at the very front? Those are the elite command units [Storm-II], which only martial artists at the Meridian Opening Realm can operate."

"His right arm is a psionic cannon; one shot and even a second-tier demonic beast would be turned into a kebab!"

"Those shorter ones behind are the mass-produced [Iron Wall-IV], tough and thick-skinned, and are the main force for advancing the position."

"The drivers must be veterans who have at least reached the seventh level of Body Tempering."

"These fifty aircraft, once positioned on the position, form an impregnable wall of steel!"

Wang Meng's gaze finally fell on the largest and most menacing machine at the very front of the group, which was nearly six meters tall, and his eyes were full of envy.