"Damn, why are there so many perverts in the Special Preparedness Division."
"So the notion that talent is scarce in the China Competition Region is a fallacy. In fact, everyone is joining the military?"
"State advances, the private sector retreats, makes one sigh."
"Mind your people!"
Following this comment, there was a moment of speechlessness from the audience, everyone admitting the upper comment's angle was too sharp to refute.
Then someone shouted: "That big guy moved!"
It was the Iron Curtain—one of the main war machines of Colin Ishurian—that was moving.
Its magic guided engine below began to operate at full power, clumsily turning amid the sharp whistle of the steam siren, emitting billowing white mist from the pipes. Inside the hemispherical shooting bunkers, rifles simultaneously flashed, accompanied by a rising white smoke, magically imbued bullets spinning towards the center of the square.
Glacier!
Gita shouted, and an ice wall rose up immediately.
