"..."
Faced with the explosive hostages being coerced forward, the players were suddenly in a dilemma. They actually hoped these hostages would take up arms and aim at them.
At least this way, returning fire first wouldn't carry any psychological burden.
But looking at the unard civilians, the players couldn't help but hesitate for a mont, especially after a good friend asked in the channel. Many players encountering explosive hostages stopped their offensive, ready to await instructions from the rear.
However, the Truth Departnt also knew that ti was of the essence and would never allow such matters to delay the battle opportunities, causing changes in the battlefield situation.
"Transfer the microphone control authority of all nearby transport platforms to ."
After obtaining the right to speak from the team's chanic, the Truth Departnt walked out from behind cover and faced the hostage strapped with grenades in the narrow passage, switching the output language to Spanish.
anwhile, other covert operatives quickly opened fire to suppress the enemies attempting an ambush from behind, buying him ti.
"Citizen, before you die, the Super Earth Truth Departnt permits you to say your na."
The Truth Departnt lowered the muzzle, removed the helt, and stood at a distance of less than fifteen ters from the explosive hostage, looking at the person calmly.
The hostage's features, twisted with pain and fear, turned towards the Truth Departnt. He didn't clearly hear what the other was saying.
He felt like he should hate, hate these invaders. If not for them, he wouldn't have been tied with so many grenades to face death.
But more than hatred, there was fear, a deep-rooted fear of soldiers, regardless of the enemy or allies.
The urging from the soldiers behind him only added to his confusion; he dared not move forward or retreat. His emotions were compressing towards collapse, and perhaps the next second, he would lose control and rush toward the enemy in despair.
Seeing no response from the other, the Truth Departnt took one more step forward, threw the rifle to the ground, stood upright with hands clasped behind his waist, and spoke again.
"Citizen, now tell , do you have any family?"
"In the na of the Super Earth Governnt, I assure you that we will kill all ard rebels who have coerced and hard you, rescue your relatives and friends, and provide subsidies to ensure their future lives and safety."
This ti the hostage understood.
He looked in disbelief at the 'enemy' standing amidst the gunfire, his clothes billowing, thinking at one point he misheard until the Truth Departnt repeated it.
What the other said was more deafening than the gunfire and the urging soldiers behind him.
"I..."
The hostage's lips turned pale.
If he had no relatives, it would be harder to be caught and strapped with explosives.
His knees buckled, and he knelt on the ground.
"I have a son, Sanchez, still held by them in a warehouse, in a warehouse next to the factory!"
The Truth Departnt drew a pistol from his waist, chambered a round, and raised his hand.
"Understood, citizen. Super Earth will fulfill its promise, rescue your son, and grant him the status of an honorary citizen of Super Earth."
Bang!
The gunshot rang out.
The corpse collapsed to the ground, the last image in his pupils being the Truth Departnt in a white tight-fitting coat, holstering the gun and turning away.
"Everyone, listen to the order: rout and annihilate, leave no survivors."
The covert operatives killed those explosive hostages, but the manner was beyond anyone's expectations.
It didn't even require the orders from the conflicted control station players.
Although not every hostage chose to abandon resistance and trust an enemy they encountered only once, it was the only straw they could grasp in despair.
So chose desperate collapse, chose to kneel and wait for death, while others still charged the players and were shot down midway. Two people, after stating their relatives' nas, turned and ran towards their lines.
After a series of explosions, there was silence.
If prior frustrations stemd from fruitless battles over days, the warlords' actions of Bagu now undoubtedly coated everyone with a layer of bloody rage.
Seeing people die before them, the good friend, his eyes turned red, suddenly felt a heavy weight on his shoulders, as if bearing a burdenso promise.
Not even caring that the cara was turned to him, he gritted his teeth and said,
"Slaughter these sonofabitches and rescue the people."
The already fierce offensive beca even more frenzied, and even the AI-controlled Sky Net seed to catch so of the players' anger, indiscriminately raining ammunition onto the ground, colliding drone-for-drone with the enemy, both crashing down like fireballs.
The retreat of the first-line deserters to the second line had already caused so chaos. The deserters had just jumped into the trench and hadn't had ti to regroup when those killing gods ca rushing in, and now this occurred.
A recently retreated Soldier watched the nacing covert operatives approaching closer, their fire points, checkpoints instantly blasted apart, and his fighting spirit collapsed on the spot. He dropped his gun and turned to escape towards the rear.
His actions prompted more soldiers with weak combat willingness to drop their weapons and flee.
The second line of defense collapsed even faster.
News of the frontline positions being lost continuously relayed back to the rear command station.
Skai's ears were almost deafened by the alerts of requests for help and airstrike alarms.
But more than his ears, Skai's heart was as turbulent as the sea at this mont.
No, this isn't right.
This wasn't how the script was written.
Didn't the higher-ups say that these Horizon rcenaries were all soft-hearted people who wouldn't dare harm civilians?
User Comments
0 comments from readers