"Hey! Kid, you've been scammed, and you even owe that guy a favor."
The short-haired girl from the flight squadron couldn't stand it anymore and proactively reminded Chen Fei, who was still hesitating about what to do with the bird's nest and eggs.
Park Ai-hua, having finished his business with the flight squadron, had gone on a long detour. When he approached this rookie, the guys in the flight squadron started making a bet in private, betting whether the newcomer would be fooled by Park and obediently hand over his money.
But no one expected that Chen Fei was actually incredibly poor, a real millionaire in debt. He had traveled all the way to the 911 Aircrew Base to work and pay off his debts; he had no spare cash to squander.
No matter how much the shrewd Park Ai-hua pleaded, this guy remained as stingy as a miser, refusing to part with a single penny.
Left with no other option, Park Ai-hua resorted to a feint. Unable to swindle the young girl or the lecherous man, she produced a bird's nest and eggs she'd found somewhere, masquerading them as monster eggs. This seemingly tactical feint of retreating and offering them away for free actually managed to swindle a favor from the inexperienced Chen Fei.
Sometimes, favors are like anthills on a thousand-mile dike; once they become a breach, they can easily spiral out of control.
Being a college student, Chen Fei wasn't stupid, just inexperienced. After being reminded, he finally realized what had happened.
Damn it, he'd been tricked again! That cunning merchant!
Seeing Chen Fei's bewildered expression, the pilots laughed gleefully. The long-awaited amusement had finally arrived.
Every newcomer to the 911 Aircrew Base would make all sorts of embarrassing mistakes—a topic the veterans loved to discuss.
Fortunately, he hadn't actually spent any money. Chen Fei shook his head with a wry smile, put the cardboard box containing the bird's nest aside, and picked up the "Big Mouth Monster" technical manual again, determined to thoroughly understand its contents.
If he couldn't grasp the technical details of the A-39B "Big Mouth Monster" light turboprop attack aircraft, simply using the basic functions of the "Sky Eye Cloud Inspection" wouldn't suffice. He figured the tall, imposing mechanic would demand more from him.
Chen Fei's thinking was undoubtedly correct.
To stay in the mechanic team, he had to be like everyone else, handling these aircraft with perfect clarity. Given Mechanic Xiao's uncompromising nature, basic skills with little technical content wouldn't get him far.
Occasionally glancing over, Xiao Ming saw Chen Fei still engrossed in his studies and nodded involuntarily.
Although a newbie, at least he had some ambition, making it easier to mentor him.
Just as Xiao Ming was about to lower his head and continue his work, a piercing alarm suddenly blared in his ears.
On the roofs of the two hangars, multiple red lights flashed incessantly.
Chief Aircraft Mechanic Xiao Ming shouted without hesitation, "Level One Combat Readiness! All personnel, Level One Combat Readiness! Activate Hangar 2!"
He was inwardly horrified. What had happened to trigger such a rare red alert at Air Force Base 911?
Hangar 2 housed Air Force Base 911's most prized possessions: two American-made MiG-28s that underwent regular inspection and maintenance. With their dust covers removed and a brief check performed, they could be put into combat readiness and roar into the sky in the shortest possible time, even faster than the "big-mouthed monsters" in Hangar 1.
The era of sovereign nations rolling up their sleeves and personally engaging in brutal warfare, leaving corpses strewn across the battlefield and rivers of blood, was long gone.
The proxy wars, which turned people's brains into dog brains, had also come to an end after more than half a century of clamor.
Human civilization on Earth, where conflict has never ceased, has entered a new era of warfare. Private military contractors are thriving, becoming major players in military conflicts worldwide.
It's roughly equivalent to a powerful figure taking out their phone, placing an order, making payment, and instantly plunging certain areas into war, reducing countless steel and concrete structures to ashes, and then leaving a positive review… In this form of app-based warfare, public opinion often becomes powerless due to the difficulty in identifying the culprit. Mistakes and blunders frequently occur, and sometimes the mastermind is completely untraceable—maybe a dog, who knows?!
Despite the emergence of a war contracting system where the scale of conflict is determined by the boldness of the contractors, private military contractors can never obtain state-of-the-art equipment. A military generational gap is inevitable, and the powerful figures in power will not allow these childish confrontations to escalate out of control. Therefore, the scale and intensity of these conflicts are destined to remain relatively small. Overpowered weapons like thermobaric bombs, cluster thermobaric weapons, electromagnetic railguns, directed energy weapons such as particle beams, and nuclear weapons simply will not appear on the battlefield.
Having access to second-generation military equipment like the MiG-28, now back in production, already demonstrates considerable strength and deep connections.
The maintenance crew began finishing their work. The six A-39B "Big Mouth" light turboprop attack aircraft parked in Hangar 1 didn't have any major problems; routine maintenance was consistently performed. Even minor issues wouldn't affect flight safety and were easy to handle. The only downside was the inspection process, which took up most of the time—a slow, meticulous process requiring patience. If the fighters needed to be temporarily deployed, the withdrawal process could be completed quickly.
The two larger aircraft in Hangar 2, along with the six "Big Mouths," were also taken care of by the waiting fuel and weapons teams, who worked tirelessly, refueling, adding gas, pressurizing, and loading ammunition.
The hangar isn't just staffed by the maintenance team; several ground crew groups directly involved with the fighter jets are also permanently stationed there. The flight squadron also assigns personnel to rotate shifts. Even when not on flight missions, they cannot leave the base without permission, ensuring that someone can be found at any time in case there is an emergency.
Loudspeakers in the hangar continuously broadcast coordinated announcements from various units of the 911 Airborne Service Base.
Nearly two hundred people serve a single fighter squadron, including two American-made MiG-28 jet fighters, six A-39B "Big Mouth" light turboprop attack aircraft, and two Z-9 attack helicopters for resupply.
"Weather report: Clear skies, effective visibility 11.3 km, current ground temperature 23°C, wind direction 281, wind speed 3 knots, air pressure 29.5."
"Airfield support team report: Runway open."
"Communications team report: Communication channels normal, no interference, dedicated encrypted channel established for support."
"Tower report: Combat command system connected to standard data link, mission information confirmed."
"Radar team report: Unidentified flying object detected, identification number 117, distance 160 km, altitude 6800 m, quantity 1, speed Mach 1.5, strong electromagnetic feedback, interference characteristics ruled out, database identifies as a gold-type dragon, mission target confirmed."
"Security team report: All personnel to posts, Level 1 alert."
"Air defense team report: Anti-aircraft machine gun positions ready, anti-aircraft missiles ready, one-minute countdown." "
Ammunition team report: Requesting authorization to activate 'Dragon Slayer' rounds, quantity 10."
"Four stations team report: Operation completed, beginning withdrawal."
"Locomotive team report: Tractor entering work area."
"Search and rescue team report, ready to depart at any time."
"This is Maurice Morgan, the executive manager of 911 Aircrew Base. This is a battle for all of us. For the bonus, fight with all your might!"
Talking about ideals, sentiments, and the future with working-class people is all bullshit; money is the only truth.
Killing a golden dragon, besides the mission bonus, also involves the dragon's own value—just thinking about it is enough to make one burst into riches.
Instantly, the morale of the entire base soared. Every unit operated with full force and efficiency, without any panic, running the emergency operation procedures flawlessly.
Is a battle about to begin?
The nobody Chen Fei was panicking. He'd just arrived and was already facing war, and with a ferocious golden dragon, no less! This place was truly cursed!
Biological knowledge from the Azure Sky Realm was already in elementary school textbooks on Blue Star; no one was unaware of dragons and magical beasts.
"Is everyone ready? Uh! Comrade Chekhov is itching for it! Uh! Uh! Uh..."
The loud voice of Squadron Leader Chekhov Leonidevich Ivanov echoed from afar, reeking of alcohol and constantly hiccuping, while still clutching a bottle of Blue Star Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor).
He'd been on a night patrol mission the previous night, returning only late, his face flushed and neck red from drinking, finally ending the night just before dawn.
He'd been jolted awake by the alarm that resounded throughout the base, quickly grabbing a bottle of 65-proof Blue Star Erguotou from his bedside table and downing half a bottle at a time to clear his head.
Forty years of experience in the martial world," he thought, "drinking and flying is nothing."
He hurried to Hangar 1, still clutching the bottle.