Chapter 1110: Chapter 361: Where Are They? They’re Everywhere! (Part 2)

"Alright, when the time comes, one shot will settle your whole team."

Truth Department drove with one hand and took out a gun from the backseat, tossing it to his buddy, saying,

"Today’s endorsed product, Huang Ban’s SNQ technical rifle, remember to start a live stream when you get to the frontline and perform well, so I can ask those stingy guys for endorsement fees later."

"Have you tried it?"

His buddy felt a bit numb. Ever since the advertising effect kicked in, he had to switch his gear almost daily. Just after he’d fired a few magazines with the previous set, he had to switch to another gun the next day.

"Neon-made? Better not jam halfway and ruin our reputation."

"Relax, no one else has handled it; how could they set us up? Make sure to speak impartially, report both the pros and cons, and if anything happens, we won’t be held accountable."

"Alright."

The Truth Department slammed on the brakes, and the Lynx stopped. Going further would enter the enemy’s artillery range.

When electronic warfare can’t completely suppress the other side, both parties are essentially fighting a transparent war.

His buddy jumped out of the car with the gun, walked to the back, and opened the door to start putting on the MT-3, exclusive to Super Earth, with the help of machines.

Previously, to maintain high mobility and quick raids, and due to lack of transport capacity, they hadn’t brought this stuff.

But now, as more trucks were sent to Cuba, logistics could finally support the players’ consumption.

After the Truth Department turned back to the frontline command center, his buddy received another message,

[Mongolian Toplaner: Have the front-line infantry arrived? I’m about to fire.]

His buddy glanced at the gradually arriving drone deployment vehicles, IFVs, and trucks transporting war machines,

A thirty-man platoon crammed with so much stuff, even in the cyber era, seemed a bit exaggerated.

[Almost, give it ten minutes]

Coordinating various units for joint operations is a very challenging task; the more units, the harder the communication and management.

The consequence was like the Russian army’s raid on Kyiv Antonov airport, where missiles had been launched for six hours, and the Ukrainian army had gotten up, brushed their teeth and washed their faces, had breakfast, and jogged to make preparations. They managed to destroy the runway before the airborne troops arrived, ending up in vain.

If either side coordinated slightly better, the Ukraine-Russia battlefield wouldn’t be such a mess.

Even among players, it’s impossible to have thousands of people crammed into one channel in chaos for command.

After a while, he loudly asked the players ready behind him,

"Is everyone ready?!"

"I’m ready!"

"I’m ready!"

Meanwhile, more than twenty platoons in the war command channel uploaded their ready signals, and the scout IFVs on both flanks also got into position.

When countless SpongeBobs shouted this line, Squidward’s nightmare began.

[Mongolian Toplaner: Long-range rocket artillery fire countdown 10S]

...

[Wildman: Each platoon drone unit prepare to seamlessly connect for the second round of strikes]

The mechanic player responsible for drone control in the distance gave his buddy an OK gesture.

When Mongolian Toplaner’s countdown ended, a medium-range rocket named "Mussolini’s Scream" first entered the battlefield,

Dense rockets streaked across the sky, leaving screams akin to a middle-aged woman realizing her stock price had plummeted like a monthly period.

These weren’t random, scattershot fireworks that hit by chance but authentic guided rockets aided by ground radars and drones.

————

In the trench, Vargas crouched down with an ice pop-like tube, squeezing protein blocks into his mouth bit by bit.

This was their lunch.

A nutrition substance made of high-fat oil and protein, eating it felt like chewing raw fat, disgustingly nauseous, making one want to puke.

Of course, for ease of intake, Cuban manufacturers added a lot of sugar, making it greasy, sweet, and disgusting.

A soldier couldn’t take it anymore and threw the protein supplement to the ground,

"I’ve been eating this crap for three years and still can’t get used to it. Damn it, risking our lives for them, and we get to eat shit like this!"

His complaint caught Vargas’s attention, and Vargas scolded,

"Why so much whining? Be glad there’s something to eat."

"Why?"

But that soldier remained defiant,

"Not that I’m complaining, but look at what they’re eating and what we’re eating."

He was referring, of course, to the live stream from Horizon Corporation. When they were having meals, those mouthwatering dishes attracted countless souls.

In stark contrast, gnawing on protein blocks in Cuba felt extremely shabby, lacking any semblance of morale.

"Who told you to watch that?"

Vargas glared at the soldier. Cuba had ordered a ban on watching Horizon Corporation’s streams, with military punishment for those caught.

"It’s all just a show. Who knows what they’re eating in private?"

The soldier grumbled, still not convinced, facing the officer,

"We found chicken bones when we searched them last time, on the front line, a whole one..."

The remaining scent of fried chicken they remembered made the soldiers in the trench swallow involuntarily,

How come the treatment in the same war was so different?

Others ate organic food while we ate protein blocks; why even fight? Might as well surrender.

When they went back to rest, they even heard those surrendering prisoners got cooked artificial meat, and occasionally a bowl of organic vegetable soup.