Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei Returns from Sekiro

The Su-27 fighter jet broke through the clouds and flew in a blizzard with such low visibility, which is an extremely risky move for a medium-sized fighter jet like the Su-27.

But according to regulations, they had to take the risk. This squadron was stationed in Verkhoyansk for this day. If anything happened at the nameless port, they had to destroy it immediately. Under no circumstances could the state's secrets be leaked.

"White stork calling, white stork calling, escaped personnel spotted south of the port." A red dot appeared on the radar of the fighter jet's instrument panel.

That was a signal from a miniature transmitter. The personnel serving in the nameless port had all been secretly fitted with transmitters to prevent them from escaping.

"Swift calling, egret...can you see it?" the wingman on the right replied.

"I saw the egret calling; it wasn't a hallucination," the squadron leader replied.

The burning Black Swan Harbor came into view. The harbor's architecture was very dense, clustered together, with underground passages dug and three layers of concrete for easy passage.

Now, all the buildings are ablaze, like erupting volcanoes, and the high-speed rail frame is glowing red.

"It seems there's no way to save the captain," the pilot on the left replied.

"Yes, it's too late." The squadron leader sighed. "The white stork has given the order to activate 'The Death of the Swan'."

Fighter jets glide through the sky, rockets fired from beneath their wings, providing a grand accompaniment to the death of the swans.

Chapter Sixty-Two There Will Always Be One Kind of Life

"The Death of the Swan" is a state destruction procedure. In the event of a leak of state secrets, the Su-27 squadron has the right to shoot any survivors and detonate a vacuum bomb. Not even a single hair can escape from Black Swan Harbor.

Even if they are burned to ashes, the people here must be buried in the frozen ground to prevent them from falling into the hands of foreigners.

Even after the fire was over, people would still be there with lists, identifying each of the blackened corpses one by one.

The honeycomb rockets rained down on the fire, causing a series of explosions. The already crumbling buildings collapsed one after another, and the red feathers of the swans fell to the ground, turning them into ugly, bald chickens. The nameless port became a burning ruin.

"Hummingbird call, mission accomplished," said the pilot of the left wingman.

"Should we detonate the vacuum bomb again?" Swift asked.

"Let's wait and see if any other survivors appear. If not, we can leave the rubble sealed and report to Moscow," the company commander said.

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard, 22:29, then moved the joystick to send the previously detected survivor locations to the other fighters.

Next, the Su-27 squadron will conduct a thorough search of the area surrounding Black Swan Harbor, killing all people or animals suspected of being survivors of Black Swan Harbor, leaving no one untouched.

Suddenly, a blinding red light swept into the cockpit!

"White stork! White stork! I'm starting the alarm here!" the swift said.

"White stork! White stork! I also have an alarm that is malfunctioning for no apparent reason!"

"Evacuate! Evacuate!" The company commander's pupils dilated, and his breathing suddenly stopped under his oxygen mask. He shouted into the voice channel, "That's the signal for the vacuum bomb to ignite! Repeat! The vacuum bomb has been ignited!"

Everyone jerked on the control stick, trying to escape this dust-free place. The pilots' minds went blank; they clearly hadn't detonated the bomb, but it had ignited on its own.

The Su-27s performed a high-difficulty maneuver, ascending vertically at an angle and then retreating at full speed. Countless flight experiences and exercises have forged their steely mental fortitude.

Their hands gripped the control levers firmly, but the bombs began to sound the final note.

Forty-eight vacuum bombs emerged from the ground. Small explosions first dispersed powder of highly explosive material into the air, and within tens of seconds, the powder and flames were evenly mixed.

Flames scorched the explosives, producing crackling, tiny electric arcs—the fuse of the super bomb. The arcs converged into a bright, high-temperature light, a white light as dazzling as creation itself!

Forty-eight columns of air rose like tornadoes, and the flames were pulled into the wind by the enormous suction force. They merged into a single beam, forming a super fire tornado with a diameter of 100 meters. After rising to a great height, the fire tornado suddenly expanded into a huge mushroom cloud.

The world fell silent. Red fluorescent fragments danced in the air, mingling with the white snow, melting into a golden rain.

The shockwave spread from the center, and the wingman Hummingbird's wing was swept by a column of energy, breaking off its wing. He didn't even have time to send a distress signal before being swallowed by the rapidly expanding mushroom cloud.

Of the 24 fighter jets, only two escaped.

The night sky glowed brightly as egrets and swifts struggled to escape from the scythe of death, calling out to the rest of the squadron, but there was no response.

"Carry out the final mission, Swift," said the egret. "Kill that deserter, then return."

"Yes, Captain," Swift replied coldly.

Their value lies in executing orders and completing tasks.

The chain reaction of the vacuum bomb drowned out the deafening roar of the engineering mine.

The permafrost layer, dozens of meters thick, beneath Black Swan Harbor was blasted open, revealing an ice surface that resembled a crystal stage.

Red light converged on the stage, and the ice beneath was clear and bright, allowing the eye to penetrate to the bottom of the ice.

It gives you the illusion of standing thousands of feet in the air. If you stand here, you will see that ancient god-like behemoth in the ice.

It was a bluish-green skeleton, whose grandeur, antiquity, and solemnity defied description, even with the most vivid adjectives. It could be summed up in a single word: "dragon."

In ancient history, humans were merely their servants, and at that time, they were called gods.

"My God!" Anyone who saw this scene would surely exclaim.

It is just a skeleton, yet it gives the impression that it might open its golden vertical pupils at any moment and break free from the eternal ice.

...

Lu Mingfei stared blankly as the mushroom cloud rose, and the brilliant pillar of fire shot straight into the sky. If they had been a step slower, they would have been swallowed up by the shockwave and annihilated in an instant.

Humans could not possibly exist in such a horrific explosion.

Is this the true nature of escape games?

He had only three hours to escape from the confinement cell, scavenge for supplies, and take the lieutenant with him. It took 20 minutes, two hours to walk through the snow, and thanks to the dogs, they were able to escape in the remaining 40 minutes.

This game is very difficult. If you miss the appointed time and do not have the firm resolve to leave immediately, you will face destruction in hell.

There's no such thing as getting injured; you either complete the game without taking any damage, or you die in the flames and wait for the snowflakes to bury you.

The lieutenant slumped on the sled, staring at the harbor as if he were collapsing from exhaustion. It turned out that they had insured everything from the very beginning.

Renata gently stretched out her hands, as if embracing something, and looked at the sky with anticipation in her eyes.

The tin box opened, and the withered flower branch fell into her palm.

“There will always be a kind of life in the world, whose every death is for the sake of returning,” she said softly.

She held a withered Arctic poppy in her hands. She couldn't bear to pull out the withered flower, as it would be like severing a life. But later someone told her that the Papaver radicatum (Arctic poppy) would not die, that it would bloom again, and that its white petals would sway vividly, even in the Arctic where no one could appreciate it.

The sound of gliding fighter jets could be heard, their engines wailing a mournful song.

"Calling Egret! Swift has spotted the target! There are three people, and a little girl..." The Su-27 fighter jet circled in the sky at an altitude of only 400 meters.

“Aim at the target. I don’t want to go to a military court,” the company commander said.

"Yes, Captain," Swift replied.

On the smooth ice, the sleds looked like blinding needles.

Renata didn't have time to find a hiding place; all she could tell her friends was to run in a straight line and get out of the dangerous restricted area as quickly as possible.

But she anticipated the arrival of the fighter jets, and this time, the anti-aircraft machine gun bullets would not jam!

"Your hands are freezing!" Lu Mingfei shouted.

The lieutenant immediately sat down in the DShK 1938's seat, his hand pressed tightly against the trigger.

Renata hid behind the lieutenant. Lu Mingfei had already drawn his Wedge Ball before the gun was even pointed at him. He fought at the forefront, like the most valiant general. Behind him were thousands of troops, as well as his companions who had escaped from hell with him.

Chapter Sixty-Three: Every Death It Takes for a Return

The lieutenant is the best person here to use this machine gun.

Renata's strength was insufficient; Lu Mingfei had never operated an anti-aircraft machine gun before.

Although Lu Mingfei was a very accurate shooter, no one knew how many fighter jets would arrive. He had more important things to do: protect their gunmen and ensure that the gunmen could aim at their targets without any worries before the gunmen and fighter pilots had a showdown.

"My girl, today is your birthday. I promised you freedom as your birthday gift, and you said that was your only birthday gift. Every girl deserves a birthday gift, and a girl without a birthday gift is pitiful. What do you want today?"

Renata heard his voice, it rang in her ear, and it wasn't an illusion, because he was speaking right next to her ear.

She hugged Zorro the bear and gently stroked his head: "I've already received my gift."

"Do you still remember our vow? From now on, I will always keep you by my side, never give up, never leave you, and you must live well and always be useful to me. You have fulfilled your vow once again. Since you have received the gift, I will give you a grand performance."

Beneath the towering pillar of fire, a little boy in a suit smiled and bowed slightly to Renata.

Lu Mingfei was parrying machine gun fire from the fighter jet. The pilot looked furious, venting his anger with bullets. He could have easily blown the sled and the defectors to pieces with just a Hive rocket.

Sparks flew, and the dense clanging of metal was like a torrential downpour. Lu Mingfei was under immense pressure; both fighter jets were firing their machine guns, and he had no way to defend against all the bullets.

The lieutenant's face was grazed by bullets, leaving bloodstains. His uniform was torn and pierced. The fighter jets were targeting the gunman first, and he was the one who was the primary target of their firepower.

"Ah!!!" the lieutenant roared, just like many years ago when he was charging on the battlefield and was hit in the calf and arm by enemy bullets, and his roar still did not stop.

He fired at the fighter jets flying in the sky, at a rate of 125 rounds per minute, drawing trajectories in the sky, each bullet accompanied by a deafening roar.

Renata opened the ammunition box and filled the magazines for the lieutenant.

Bullets were raining down from both sides. The fighter pilots seemed to realize how abnormal the person who was slashing at the bullets with a knife was. They finally calmed down. The honeycomb rocket magazine opened from under the wing. That was the trump card. Humans could not stop rockets with a knife because the rocket would explode the moment the blade made contact with the missile.

Lu Mingfei stared at the rocket about to be launched. He took a deep breath, held his knife in both hands, and remained standing in front of the lieutenant and Renata.

The lieutenant did not disappoint. His battlefield experience was second to none. The bullets from the anti-aircraft machine gun were enough to penetrate the bulletproof steel plate of the fighter jet. He hit the right wing of the fighter jet that was diving at high speed on the left, and black smoke billowed out.

The towering pillar of fire illuminated his狰狞 face, and blood flowed along the wound. However, before the blood could drip off, a bullet grazed his calf, leaving a blood-stained gash on his military green trousers.

Lu Mingfei couldn't block all the bullets, so he could only block the most fatal ones, protecting the gunman's head and heart.

The fighter jet slowed down after being hit, and a hail of bullets immediately rained down, striking the wing. The jet began to tilt and sway, and the pilot could only pull the stick, risking a low-altitude emergency landing in the distance. Alternatively, he could eject from the cockpit and see if the anti-aircraft machine gun bullets could hit him as he slowly descended with his parachute open in the sky.

It looks like they've taken down a fighter jet, but before that, rockets have already been launched!

The missile warhead was larger than Lu Mingfei and the lieutenant's heads. Dozens of rockets, trailing sparks and white smoke, hurtled towards them like an out-of-control oxcart, but it would explode, and the machine gun fire continued unabated.

The lieutenant roared, Renata loaded his bullets, and Lu Mingfei protected him. This man should have died many years ago, lying on the scorched earth with those laughing young people, his ashes placed in an urn and sent back to his dilapidated house in Moscow.

So be it, he won't regret dying here!

It wasn't until many years later that he realized he wasn't afraid of death, but rather afraid of dying alone. That's why he loved drinking so much, because when he was drunk, he could put his arm around young people.

Lu Mingfei was also hit. The machine gun's rate of fire was too fast. Unless he had eight hands and eight knives, it was impossible for him to emerge unscathed from such a hail of bullets.

He didn't scream or roar; he simply watched the incoming rockets calmly. Even in death, he wouldn't put down the knife in his hand.

Blood dripped down his thigh, but his face seemed to say that the wound didn't exist.

"I'm sorry, it seems I still can't complete the game without taking any damage." Lu Mingfei said, as if he were saying goodbye to someone.