Chapter 1442 - 469: Firepower Frontline_3

Chapter 1442: Chapter 469: Firepower Frontline_3

However, they greatly underestimated the production speed of the equipment once the technology matured.

From the moment the red dots representing enemy aircraft appeared on the radar, their fate was sealed.

Indeed, players without an air force can’t achieve air superiority. If I can’t achieve it, then no one else should.

"Target locked. Launch missile."

The cold and flat voice of Sky Net echoed in Cyberspace, surrounded by a deathly silence.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh————

The air-to-air missiles hung by the Predator drones launched from their pods at supersonic speed, reaching Mach five in moments.

British and French fighters obviously saw the piercing alarms from their radars, attempting to ascend and release heat flares or activate stealth modules to avoid electromagnetic lock-on.

But it was all in vain. Under the absolute suppression of radar technology, their original stealth coating was entirely ineffective.

Moreover, compared to the supersonic missile speed, the fighter jets in subsonic flight seemed almost stationary.

In the blink of an eye, the jets were pursued one by one, and within seconds, these two squadrons of jets, worth billions, were reduced to ashes in history.

"Enemy air force completely eliminated. Drones are returning to base."

When Sky Net’s voice echoed again through the terminals, the Truth Department thought they heard it wrong, but the red dots on the radar simultaneously disappeared.

This means that within just two minutes, the enemy’s air force was completely annihilated under the coordinated action of this new phased array radar and missiles.

"Hiss——"

The Truth Department and the Propaganda Department gasped, realizing their previous worries were laughable. This unilateral technological dominance in information warfare was almost like cheating, akin to Wind Spirit Moon Shadow ancestors manifesting themselves!

"What a futile battle."

The Truth Department lamented.

"If my aircraft was shot down like this, I might as well surrender."

With absolute air supremacy, the next step was to send planes into enemy airspace, targeting key strategic points—bridges, power plants, roads, airports, factories—bombing them relentlessly.

Once all these are destroyed, it’s essentially equivalent to victory.

This isn’t World War II where one could hold on without surrender through isolated urban fights.

Once you achieve absolute air superiority, are you still refusing to surrender?

Then I’ll use intelligent drones to scour the ground inch by inch, trading your steel will with the will of the steel, let’s see who can hold off whom.

Moreover, this is Cuba, not Europe; without local cooperation, urban combat is a joke. I have locals guiding me, can you be more familiar with the terrain than them?

"The progression of the war is far swifter than our simulations indicated. It seems Super Earth held back anger, ready to explode this time."

In the Cyberspace Command Center, Wildman watched the astounding progress on the Eastern Front through the holographic map and smiled.

The opposing forces in Cuba don’t have backup units. Once they collapse, even if reorganized, their morale and threat won’t be what they once were. It’ll lead only to a straightforward push.

"The speed shouldn’t be this fast."

Family Joy frowned, searching through frontline battle reports, sensing something amiss.

"Why has their firepower intensity decreased so significantly?"

"What do you mean?"

Wildman asked, puzzled.

"Could there be some secret weapon or trap from the Europeans?"

"No."

Family Joy shook his head

"If there was a secret weapon, it shouldn’t be used on the Eastern Front. The pressure on the Western Front is far greater, logically it should be used against us."

"Additionally, based on West Fire Grass’s logistics analysis, the Europeans haven’t transported any secret weapon to Cuba recently."

"Look, their firepower was fierce a few hours ago, averaging strong each hour. However, after hours of sustained intensity, it suddenly began to dwindle."

"Could it be they’ve run out of ammo?"

The Commander-in-Chief jested.

"Maybe West Fire Grass took all their ammunition to sell, haha."

West Fire Grass’s daily sale of military supplies had Family Joy feeling apprehensive. He said,

"It’s unlikely; we have the statistics on their military supplies. Based on initial firepower density, the ammunition they stocked should last several days."

"Something unknown must have happened."

"Unknown?"

"Yes."

Family Joy nodded

"However, the specifics may depend on whether Bride and her crew can uncover something."

....

Things unfolded as Family Joy anticipated—not some selling spree forgetting even battle.

Matters were far simpler yet more complex than envisioned.

Simply put, rear ammunition couldn’t reach the front lines, causing a shortage there.

The reason for not reaching the front line was singular; the transport railways and bridges at Samar Port, Orkin Province, were bombed, limiting traffic and inconveniencing logistics, the remaining air transport insufficient to sustain significant front line ammunition consumption.

And those responsible weren’t anyone else—they were the Cuban people themselves.

Samar Port’s munitions factory worker Hadler Quinn, along with several colleagues, planned the blast.

Using their job privileges, slicing through their flesh, they concealed explosives under their skin, bringing them out of the factory. If once wasn’t enough, they did it repeatedly.

After amassing enough explosives, they contacted a local demolition expert, joining forces to blow up the bridges and railway.

However, they didn’t escape capture by both Europeans and local drug cartel minions; mostly gunned down, only Hadler and a few were captured alive.

They were bound tight and thrown on the port grounds waiting for interrogation.

Major Oliver in charge of the port was furious, brutally punishing them, leaving them half-dead, then grabbed Hadler’s collar, roaring in anger:

"Speak! Who instructed you?"

"Do you know we’re fighting your battles? Those United States giants will brainwash you, turning you into lunatics only aware of war!"

To his surprise, the brutally beaten Cuban worker showed no courtesy.

"Bah!"

Hadler spit directly on Oliver’s face.

Under Oliver’s shocked gaze, the bound Hadler fearlessly glared.

This lowly man...

"Not sure about those Americans, but you Europeans are beasts! General Wirt was right; you’re all butchers!"

As Oliver wiped the sticky spittle from his face, a buzz rang through his mind, angrily smirking, he drew his sidearm, firing three shots into Hadler’s heart.

Bullets pierced Hadler’s heart, his body fell solidly to the ground.

"Whore-born scoundrel..."

Oliver screamed at everyone,

"Hang these bastards’ bodies on the gantry. Let everyone see; if anyone dares interfere, this is the fate!"

Yet...

The gaze from those Cuban workers and some cartel members on Hadler’s corpse held indescribable meaning.

Confusion?

Perplexity?

Anger?

Or respect for a pioneer?