"Hmph! Trying to run?"
The players were caught up in the thrill of the battle, there's no way they'd let these guys get away so easily.
"Lightning Tornado Slash!"
Soon the encounter battle turned into a pursuit battle, but these Cuban soldiers were far more organized than expected. Their retreat didn't turn into a rout; instead, they withdrew in a coordinated manner, even deliberately abandoning so fuelless-but-otherwise-intact vehicles and supplies to delay the operatives' pursuit.
As for the routed soldiers, the players never even considered capturing them, and now they didn't have the capacity to do so, allowing those guys to flee.
If both sides had lined up for a serious head-to-head instead of just an airstrike on a company, unless Super Earth had brought all its equipnt, it might not have been able to defeat them.
The battle finished as dawn approached.
The smoke hadn't cleared yet, and the players had already started counting their spoils of war.
"Two trucks, four Humrs, and two ATVs..."
"What's this?"
A good buddy jumped into one of the trucks and saw several boxes in the compartnt. He kicked open a box, completely fearless of any hidden mines or traps.
Luckily, the box didn't explode, and inside wasn't weaponry or ammunition but rather sealed packaged bars, soft and squishy, seemingly containing sothing gooey.
An operative glanced at the seal on the box and read it aloud.
"Single-soldier energy bar, seems like it's sothing to eat."
"I'll give it a try."
Out of a belief that it couldn't possibly be lethal, the headstrong buddy imdiately tore open the package with his teeth and squeezed a mouthful of the light yellow paste inside.
As soon as it entered his mouth, a nauseatingly oily and sweet taste assaulted his taste buds. His face instantly changed colors, and he tried to dig it out of his mouth with his fingers.
"Ugh!"
He vomited it all out and grabbed a bottle of water for a vigorous rinse, angrily cursing,
"What the hell is this stuff? Is it for humans to eat?"
"Marching rations are about calories, not taste. To prevent soldiers from snacking on them in idle monts, they've purposely made them unpalatable."
Another player laughed, picking one up and glancing at it. The ingredient list made him sweat,
Synthetic fats, synthetic oils, concentrated glucose, synthetic starch, triple-acting stimulants...
"Jeez, can humans actually eat this stuff..."
After complaining, he quickly discarded it, afraid of dirtying his hands.
With no taste demands, these things are purely for quick energy replenishnt and provide strong stimulant and pain-relief effects during combat.
Of course, addiction is inevitable.
Compared to Cuba, Night City's drug problem would appear trivial.
Having endured the oral torture, the good buddy just wanted a proper al to wash out the taste, especially after flying for over ten hours and battling through the night without a drop to drink, the players' stamina was starting to wane.
Unfortunately, when they set out, all they'd brought were guns and ammunition.
Just as he was thinking of scrounging so food, the sound of engines ca from the jungle road behind the operatives. But the players weren't alert, as the arrivals were the mass-appealing civil engineering group.
Due to primarily leveling up in civil and chanical engineering skills, their combat effectiveness paled compared to frontline fighters.
After the lead truck stopped, wearing the Engineering Departnt's MT-3, Red leaped from the compartnt, exuding the aura of a seasoned big shot, saying,
"Alright, boys, it's all ours from here. You guys can hop on this truck to head back to the beachhead for so rest. The BOSS has prepared quite a number of surprises."
The truck convoy behind him began unloading players and Hellhound robots and transport platforms controlled by the chanics.
Thanks to building activities, the civil bulls accumulated the most robots in the whole ga.
"Wow, so many?"
The Truth Departnt tossed the terminal to the Publicity Departnt and walked over.
"That Cuban force has already retreated. I'm worried they'll regroup for a counterattack. Can you handle it?"
"As long as I can't put out a big cigar, holding the line for a while isn't a problem."
Red Barrel didn't feel showing vulnerability was embarrassing; they've focused on their specialty, after all—combat isn't their forte.
"Besides, we're here to kick butt, not fight. Wildman marked several positions on the map for us to build outposts for long-term defense, just in case they return."
According to military technology intelligence from this morning, Cuban troops around Pig Bay started showing signs of surrounding this direction, at least two or three regints, thousands strong. They could launch the next attack in a few hours or drag it out for a day or two, depending on their organization.
The players were also continuously landing, with 60 new players daily, nearly two thousand a month. In the past few months, daily active users have reached eight thousand, truly terrifying.
"Alright, if you don't hurry, there'll be no hot food left. Let tell you, the dishes are epic. Never eaten like this at a construction site, big fish and at, more than you can finish."
Red Barrel spoke mysteriously, piquing the curiosity of the nearby operatives, already ravenous, and their appetite was certainly ignited.
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