I Have a Mansion in the Post-apocalyptic World Chapter 579 - The Rain of Destruction

Chapter 579: The Rain of Destruction

Translator: Min Editor: Caron_

In the bushes, two soldiers leaned against a tree while cautiously scanning their surroundings.

Behind them were anti-air machine guns. These weapons were usually powerless against fighters, but once they formed a numerical advantage, even fourth generation fighters would be afraid of diving through the dense waves of bullets.

Beside the anti-air machine guns was a box of Spike RPG rockets; it was provided by UA as an addition to Country F’s close-range air defense.

The surroundings were quiet with only the sound of bugs heard, unique to subtropical rainforests.

The humid climate made it extremely easy to feel sleepy. In order to not fall asleep, the two soldiers began to chat.

“How long do you think the war will last?”

“I don’t know, maybe two months? Or it could be three months.”

“That’s so problematic… Why can’t I be a part of the 14th division?” The man with a mustache drove away the b.u.t.terfly resting on top of his rifle as he muttered in annoyance.

“The 14th Division? Is it fun to be with the infected? I remember all the people who went had to sign a voluntary disclosure. Until a vaccine comes out, you can’t come out after you go in.” A young-looking man rested his rifle on his arm and laughed.

“You don’t understand.” The man with the mustache laughed, got closer and whispered, “The cleaners are the emperors on the inside, but being a cleaner is still a bit dangerous since you have to interact with the infected. The people in logistics have the best jobs – think about all the girls in the safe zone… Haha, you can play with them however you want.”

“What if you can’t come out?”

“Then I can’t come out,” the man said decisively.

“I have a girlfriend.” A breeze of wind blew by and the young man scanned the still bushes with disinterest.

“If you go there, you’ll have a lot of girlfriends,” the man with a mustache joked.

While the two chattered, a transparent ghost sneaked by the two of them.

The infrared indicator the size of a b.u.t.ton was placed not far behind them. The faint light under the disguise of the bushes was as unnoticeable as a ladybug among ferns.

When all the markers were placed, the Ghost Agent arrived at the edge of the battlefield and retreated through a small helicopter.

On the helicopter, she opened her communication device.

“All markers have been placed.”

At the same time, ten thousand meters in the sky, an Aurora-20 pilot ended cruising mode and opened the infrared radar.

“Affirmative.”

On the black and white screen, tons of red square boxes instantly locked onto the white signal source.

The pilot checked the radar, confirmed the attack radius and height, and opened the safety switch before pressing the red b.u.t.ton.

“This is Shooter-2, MXJ-11 is starting to deploy…”

The b.u.t.ton of the hull opened and a bomb painted with red paint separated from the rack.

Without a bright trail of flames, it was only an unnoticeable black dot that dropped from the sky.

When its elevation reached 2000 meters, the sh.e.l.l of the bomb instantly separated, exposing the bullets inside.

Like seeds dropped from a seeding plane, they bloomed into flowers in the green forest.

Its name was death.

The explosion came out of nowhere in the targeted forest. Sparks and shrapnel flew in the forest and shredded everything in the vicinity.

It was the rain of death.

MXJ-11, nicknamed smallpox, weighed 1,200 pounds, was divided into high explosive and piercing types, and belonged to PAC end-guided cl.u.s.ter bombs – an imitation version. An MXJ-11 contained 88 sub-bombs with end guidance that, when thrown to a specified height, released all the sub-bombs and eliminated all locked targets in the target area under the screening of the intelligence program.

Seventy-four air defense targets were eliminated in a flash. The airstrike came from ten thousand meters above and the sentinels on guard didn’t even have the time to take cover from the explosions…

Because the explosions were too dazzling, the pilot turned off the infrared instrument and pressed the radio on the helmet.

“This is Shooter-2. Air defense points have been cleared, over.”

“Shooter-3 and 4, received. Short range attack initiated. Shooter-1 and 5, the enemy ‘little birds’ are left to you.”

“Roger … then let the hunting begin.”

Four fighters broke through the cloud, diving down from the sky.

…

The series of explosions destroyed all the air defense firepower of F’s 21st division. It also dazed all the soldiers hidden in the forest.

Without a lot of time to react, the honing noise of an airstrike approached them.

“Enemy fighters detected! Dammit, they’re shooting at our people! Where are our anti-air cannons?! We need a.s.sistance!” A reconnaissance soldier curled behind a sandbag while shouting into the radio.

There was no response.

He couldn’t see that inside the barracks of the commanding soldier, the commander was lying in a pool of blood along with his a.s.sistant and bodyguard. There was a terrifying b.l.o.o.d.y hole on his forehead.

The perpetrator of this crime, the Ghost Agent, was long gone.

Soaring air strikes replied to the shouting of the reconnaissance soldier. The infantry, ten meters away from him, turned into dust along with the sandbag he hid behind due to the fire of 27mm machine guns.

Then he saw ten explosions in the sky. The explosions belonged, without a doubt, to the FA-50s of the Country F Air Force.

It was their most proud creation, the fourth generational plane based on the original SK “Golden Eagle” design. It marked the friends.h.i.+p between Country SK and Country F… But it was now turned to pieces.

In the direction of Port D, missiles launched into the air one by one. The Country F soldiers watched the missiles covering their zone of control in despair. But what shocked them was that the missiles didn’t cause any casualties, as if they malfunctioned. Only arcs of electricity flashed in the area before instantly disappearing.

The hiding reconnaissance soldier wanted to report the information back to the command center, but he was instantly stunned.

The radio was broken.

Not only his radio, but his GPS, watch, electronic scope, and even his flashlight all stopped working!

His face looked like he had just seen a ghost.

In modern warfare, losing access to information meant losing everything. The soldiers who lost their command system were like rats locked in a cage; they would await their deaths in darkness and chaos.

The EMP missiles destroyed all the electronic equipment in the area and the entire 21st division had lost communication.

At the same time, Moro’s 5th Infantry Division launched their attack!

The guerrillas never fought an easier war than this. Under the stimulation of friendly firepower, they charged forward as if they were on stimulants. The Country F soldiers that lost all communication fled as if they were flies without heads. Under the attack of thousands of guerillas, they had to fight for their own lives.

The soaring Aurora-20s made their rockets and cannons into a nightmare Country F soldiers tried their best to avoid. Flames spread in the subtropical rainforest as they were thirsty for splattered blood.

Under attack from the Moro 5th infantry division, F’s 21st division collapsed without much of a fight.

At the same time, Celestial Trade’s Marines boarded the helicopters and landed east of the mountain. 1000 soldiers in kinetic skeletons under fire coverage from s.h.i.+p cannons, fighters, and drones pursued the 15th Mountain Range Division. Against agile kinetic skeletons, even if F soldiers were at a numerical advantage, they were disadvantaged in this battle.

It was a one-sided battle.

The battle didn’t last for too long. The Second Army Command Post didn’t have time to react before news of the breakdown of their frontline arrived on Belli’s table.

“Retreat! Make the 15th Division retreat! And the dumbases from 21st Division! Fuk, useless!” Belli pounded his table in anger and his cap even flew off.

The soldier looked nervously at him.

“Commander…”

“Why are you not going?!” Belli wanted to slap this guy.

People were dying every second, and his heart was bleeding.

“The 15th Division is surrounded…”

Belli took a moment to process this before he gulped with unease.

“What about the 21st Division?”

“We’re unable to get a hold of the 21st division. Commander? Commander! Where are you going?”

The soldier looked at Belli, who rushed out the door in shock. His cap had yet to be picked up from the floor.

He climbed into his car and rudely ordered the driver to take him to the 14th Division command post in City K. The pupils of the commander were filled with fear and ferocity.

This wasn’t a war! This was a slaughter!