Three days later.
At 2 a.m. midnight.
Inside the borders of Yinan.
More than ten helicopters carried the Black Medicine Investigation Team's marines towards the southern city's building clusters.
Half an hour earlier, a 5-minute-long airstrike had plunged the city into a sea of flames.
Wang Ye sat at the gunner's seat, his ICR-2 automatic rifle hung on his chest, his hands tightly gripping the handles of the rotary machine gun.
On the full-coverage helmet's visor, the combat HUD displayed life signs as green dots for a total of 600 combat units flickering across the array.
This time, Schweinsteiger wasn't by his side; instead, Da Gu and Mika were.
"We're about to reach the landing site!" Mika shouted from behind him.
On the street below, three white trucks hurried past, their cargo beds mounted with vehicle machine guns catching Wang Ye's eye.
"Watch for rockets, 12 o'clock direction, rooftop of the four-story building," the pilot said.
