— Pedro Costa POV —
Those people tried to sneak in and scout our defensive line... well, calling it a "defensive line" is an understatement. It's more like a fort, considering the construction drones set everything up in just a few hours. We're only responsible for our personal equipment; all logistics are handled by drones.
Seriously, it feels more like we're here for a picnic than a war.
Yeah... okay, there are some skirmishes here and there. Some of them tried to test our defenses and got several lead injections for their welcoming. But in the end, the ones who suffer the most are those poor sods from the Seraphine Isles. As for us? Just the cost of bullets, which is very, very insignificant compared to the war... er... I mean... defense budget provided by Astral Corp.
Yep, we're "defending" our land by stationing our troops on someone else's territory after they 'conveniently' surrendered to us unconditionally. Honestly, I don't even want to know what the higher-ups did to those warlords to make them surrender so easily.
I remember that day vividly... their faces were pale, and their eyes looked like pandas'. I don't know how many nights those poor warlords went without sleep, but it's probably better not to know the details. Ignorance is bliss, after all.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire rang out, and three of the scouts dropped on the spot. The remaining soldiers quickly scrambled for cover, and since this is an urban area, there's plenty to hide behind... debris, car wreckage, building corners.
The enemy soldiers took cover behind a building corner and a wrecked car... three at the corner and two behind the car. Then, several shots were fired from our marksmen's post. The bullets penetrated through the cover and obliterated those soldiers.
Yes, obliterated is the right word. The bullets fired from that sniper rifle are special... capable of penetrating up to six inches of tank armor. When I say "effective," I mean it could penetrate even further, up to 7.5 inches, but the stopping power would be greatly reduced.
Damn, those bullets and that gun are like some shit straight out of a sci-fi movie. I even saw people in the lab test fire it on steel plates replicating modern tank armor when I was training at a secret base. And damn... those egghead in the lab ain't f*ck around, they can even produce shit like this.
From the drone feed I was controlling for a recon patrol, none of the enemy squad survived. When that gun is set to penetration mode, the bullet's destructive power increases, and when it hits the target, all that power explodes after tearing through the armor.
By the way, the marksman... no, the leader of the marksman team and our marksman instructor... is a scary, grumpy guy with a nasty-looking scar on his throat. It looks like he survived someone slitting his throat; I heard his larynx was destroyed in the process. That's why he never speaks. Everyone calls him Silencer.
But Silencer has a pal... an African-descended guy with a shaved head named Viper. He's pretty chill and serves as our CQC instructor. Outside of training, he's a laid-back guy.
We know that these two are quite wealthy. They live downtown that's full of expensive-looking apartments and buildings. When we asked them why they became instructors despite having enough money to live in luxury, they just smiled wryly and said they had a deal with the higher-ups. That's all we need to know.
Hmm... maybe they're some kind of underworld legends? Like, a duo of retired assassins who made a deal with the government to teach their skills to soldiers? Hmm... yeah, that might be it, but it's just my guess anyway.
"Hahaha! Babe, look! Isn't my army fantastic and fearsome?" Diego Carlos pointed to the rows upon rows of soldiers standing below the command HQ balcony.
"Yes, leader, your army is magnificent," the girl responded, saying exactly what he wanted to hear.
With this, Diego Carlos felt as though he had already conquered the world. Everything seemed grand and within his grasp.
"March forth, my army! Trample those corporate dogs!" Diego Carlos roared, gesturing grandly toward New Atlantis' defense perimeter, imagining himself as the king of the world.
After an hour, the Seraphine Isles army established a forward base 30 kilometers away from the airport. At this location, they stationed 20 self-propelled artillery units in preparation for softening up the defense before advancing to capture the perimeter.
Yes, the high command emphasized capturing, as they wanted to seize some of the power armor and advanced weaponry for themselves. Using excessive firepower might be counterproductive.
But after more than an hour of waiting, the recon teams they had sent out never reported back. They should have already provided the coordinates of the defensive perimeter. Prior to this operation, all drones and spy planes were accurately shot down the moment they entered the area for reconnaissance.
As a result, they didn't dare to send more drones or spy planes, fearing their precious equipment would be destroyed again, especially since some of these drones and spy planes were new models provided by the Qing Empire.
"Sir, we've lost all contact with our recon teams. What should we do?" one of the communication officers asked the commander overseeing the operation.
The commander hesitated, uncertain about how to proceed. The Seraphine Isles military was used to fighting their own people and protesters, who lacked the firearms to shoot back. The most the protesters and rioters could do was throw stones or make improvised spears out of kitchen knives.
In the end, the riots were always subdued by the harsh crackdown from the military, who used live ammunition against their own citizens.
But now, facing an enemy equipped with firearms, the commander found himself stumped. All the basic tactics in their playbook were ineffective against the more advanced army of Astral Corp.
"Do we have a rough estimate of their coordinates?" the commander asked.
"We do, sir, but it's a very rough estimate based on a lucky photo our spy plane captured before it was shot down. Because all the scouts we sent into range for a clear binocular view have gone missing. It's complete radio silence, sir. We don't even know their numbers or what their defense perimeter looks like."
"So... we're working with nothing but a lucky guess?" the commander asked.
"I'm afraid so, sir. What are your orders?" the officer asked again.