After passing the assessment, the current batch of special training students were assigned to the Baimu Star Region Military District. Tian Xingjian remained in the special training unit for another six months, gaining a thorough understanding of mechanical maintenance. His colonel then recommended him to his old friend, the Chief of Logistics Staff of the Atlantis Star Region Military District. Tian Xingjian then joined the 1st Squadron of the Logistics Squadron, 3rd Armored Battalion, 5th Armored Division, in the Galileo System, part of the Atlantis Star Region, as a new recruit, a corporal. Initially, Tian Xingjian felt somewhat proud. After all, he had graduated from the special training unit, had undergone specialized training in both the Reconnaissance and Mechanical Maintenance Battalions, and, with the colonel's recommendation, had been promoted directly to corporal, a rank higher than the other new recruits who had graduated from the special training unit, privates. After being assigned to the company, the squad leader of the 1st Squadron of the Logistics Squadron was also only a corporal. But his luck ended there... Three days after Tian Xingjian reported for duty, the Gacharin Empire launched a full-scale invasion of the Atlantis Star Region of the Lele Democratic Federation, and war broke out. Within six months, four colony planets in the Galileo System fell one after another. Following the remnants of the Fifth Division, they retreated to Milok II, only to be surrounded by the Imperial Army's Newton Front and the encroaching Galileo Front. After finally boarding a Ninth Division ship, they were ordered by the High Command to join Milok's defense. The Imperial Army landed on Milok within a week. Then, this fat man, considered by his superiors to be quite capable of escaping, was assigned to this forward position to help repair the mechas. And then, the Imperial Army attacked. Without even a chance to catch his breath! Now, all Tian Xingjian could do was escape. Racing against the mechas on his own two feet, Tian Xingjian felt both exasperated and terrified. Even at his best, he could only run about 20 kilometers per hour, a classic tortoise-and-hare race compared to the mechas. The only silver lining was that the mechas' size made it difficult to navigate the jungle. Surviving in the jungle and escaping the enemy was one of Tian Xingjian's specialties. Besides, he was just a maintenance soldier. Who would be interested in hunting him down? Climbing a large tree, Tian Xingjian carefully observed the battlefield. If the twelve centipede-like Federation land mechs could escape the battlefield, Tian Xingjian wouldn't mind following them in the shadows. A smooth retreat would be a blessing. If they encountered a small force, at least they had this considerable force to rely on. If they encountered a large force, Tian Xingjian would vanish like a tiny star beside the sun. The battle centered on the small hill Tian Xingjian had just left. Two Federation Honor-15 land mechs had already approached the hill. Following them, a squadron of Imperial Saint-Gear-22 individual mechs followed, like a swarm of frantic bees. Some formed into skirmish lines, relentlessly attacking the Honor-15s. Others activated their high-speed rockets and swerved towards the hill, completely ignoring the prolonged airborne activity that made them targets for the Honor-15s. The Federation army was in dire straits. Unable to escape the enemy's entanglement in the front, and with the commanding heights in the rear controlled, the battle was doomed. Only by holding the small hillock, and relying on this defensive point, could the majority of the mechs be disengaged from the battle. Silence fell from the headset. "Damn it! Let's go all out, 2119. Brothers, help us take care of me." An Honor 15 closest to the hillock forced its way out of the battlefield without cover, sprinting towards the hilltop. The exposed L9-2119 immediately became a target, its shield shattered to a red hue, a symbol of extreme danger, after being cut off for hundreds of meters. "2119, get back here the fucking time." "Fire, fire!" "Go, men, we can't let 2119 die before us." "There are no cowards in the Lele Federation." "Boys, are we warriors?" "Yes!" And! "We always have been!" Every Honor 15 mech in the Federation roared in unison. They simultaneously rushed out of their positions, their rotating energy cannons on top unleashing maximum firepower, their shield rapidly fading to a pale red. This meant that, to protect 2119, these mechs unhesitatingly pushed their energy valves to the top of their attack, completely abandoning the protective shields that sustained them. "Haha, that's fucking awesome! You bitches of Gacharin, get your ass kicked!" "Little Imperial fleas, let me teach you a lesson." "This missile says hello to your mother, this one says hello to your father." The Imperial Army was stunned by the sudden increase in the Federation's firepower. Twelve crimson mechs charged out like twelve killer gods leaping from hell, their bodies aglow with crimson light, brandishing their deadly scythes, and their missiles raining down like a dense, swarming rain. "L9-2108, enemy concentration at 1 o'clock, open fire!" "L9-2117, advance!" "L9-2121, advance!" "L9-2119, keep advancing! We're almost there, guys." "L9-2110, advance!" "L9-2111, screw you, 2119, that place is mine." "L9-2106, charge! Don't get left behind those bastards!" "L9-2133, advance." "L9-2129, brothers, let's go." "L9-2101, advance." Climbing in the tree, Tian Xingjian trembled uncontrollably, goose bumps covering his skin. Whether this was a display of excitement or fear, Tian Xingjian himself didn't know. He only knew he would never forget the scene before him. An Honor 15, its shield down to red, frantically approached the hill. Two other mechas, having abandoned their defensive energy, desperately tried to stop the swarming Imperial mechas. There were also nine mechas that had also given up their defensive energy. While pouring out their overdrawn firepower, they moved closer to the hill, attracting enemy fire.
"Forward! Honor 15!" Twelve Honor 15 land battle mechs, with their resounding gunfire and blazing blood, sounded a resounding charge that reached the heavens. The sudden counterattack by the Honor 15 land battle mechs caught the Imperial army off guard. Although they had the advantage in numbers, they were all individual mechs, and aside from their agility, they offered no advantage against medium-sized mechs. A single direct hit from a missile or two energy cannons could easily destroy a Saint Gauntlet 22. Watching each Saint Gauntlet 22 explode into a ball of fire under the Federation's frenzied firepower, the Imperial army's firepower advantage, previously based on numbers, was gradually eroding. The mechs now outnumbered the opposing forces 5:1. This meant that only about sixty Imperial individual mechs remained capable of attacking. Furthermore, after the prolonged battle, the Saint Gauntlet 22s' five light missiles had been nearly depleted. Reserve firepower on the battlefield had been reduced to a critically low level. Without missiles, their two onboard machine guns could only scratch the surface of the Federation's Honor 15s. Honor 15's desperate, life-or-death combat terrified the Imperials. Losses mounted rapidly, as one panicked Imperial mech after another was hit. Panic spread uncontrollably among the Imperials. Those caught within the Confederation's firepower dared not even raise their heads, seeking shelter in shell craters or obstacles. War is a strange thing. Perhaps your men are formidable, perhaps your tactics are superior, your weapons are more advanced, or even the timing, location, and people are all perfectly balanced. You might think it's difficult to lose even deliberately. Yet, you lost. Because you lost to something uncontrollable. Luck! When this thing is encountered at the right time and in the right place, the outcome can be completely different from your initial expectations. The Federation's luck was undoubtedly great at this point. These warriors, with their shields lowered to the minimum and practically naked, not only did not lose a single piece of armor to the enemy, but they actually stumbled upon the advantage. In ancient Earth wars, it was common for a single soldier to chase a group of soldiers. Without the morale of a desperate struggle, such a madcap act would be impossible. And without luck, even a single shot from a fleeing soldier could have killed the idiot chasing the group. An ancient Chinese philosopher once said, "When morale is scattered, it's hard to lead an army." Now, the profound meaning of this statement left a bitter taste in the mouth of the Imperial Army commander. His soldiers were no longer able to rally, and most were resigned to fighting on their own. Under the pressure of watching mecha after mecha destroyed and exploded by the Federation Army, the Imperial Army began to waver, then began to disperse sporadically. Finally, this disintegration suddenly turned into a panicked flight. The mechas scattered in all directions, like sheep scattered by a hungry wolf. Tian Xingjian's mouth was bitter too. He truly wanted to cry. This life was unbearable. Behind him, the silhouette of the Imperial Armored Squadron loomed. In ten minutes at most, it would bypass the jungle and reach the battlefield. In this chaotic battlefield. "If I escape, I'll apply for discharge!" Poor, overweight Tian Xingjian ran, sweat pouring down his face. A year of reconnaissance training hadn't reduced his weight at all, and six months of war experience had only prevented the fat man from gaining more. "If I'd known I couldn't lose weight, why would I have endured this hardship?" Tian Xingjian felt his life was a tragedy. Living in the villa and flying car his parents left him when they died, finding a simple job, marrying a beautiful wife, and hanging out with friends after get off work—that was his dream life. "I'm Corporal Tian Xingjian, a mechanical maintenance soldier in the temporary logistics detachment. Requesting to speak," Tian Xingjian shouted, his tongue lashing out as he ran toward the battlefield. "That fat guy who came to repair the mech a few days ago? Why are you still here?" This was the armored squad's regional channel. Being able to reach this closed channel proved he was nearby. The mech soldiers were puzzled. After two days and one night of fighting, this fat guy who had come to repair the mech a few days ago was still here. Tian Xingjian thought to himself, "I'd love to run, but how can the battlefield recorder on my arm let me escape?" The fat man didn't know that the battlefield recorder didn't normally restrict logistics troops from leaving the battlefield. Its main function was to record combat records and limit combatants from leaving the combat radius. However, for soldiers with abnormal data, the battlefield recorder would modify its instructions. Disengaging from combat over twenty times without firing a single shot, without killing any enemy, remaining invisible from the battle, and not even a single enemy being able to detect and fire at him—if that wasn't abnormal data, what was? Tian Xingjian's combat data had entered the red alert list on the Federation Combat Command Center's computer. "Fatty, escape on your own," the L9-2101 mech captain said. "How?!" Tian Xingjian wailed, his voice filled with resentment. "Aside from this small patch of jungle, it's all flat land. The Imperial heavy mechs are coming up too." The Imperial Army's "Beast II" heavy mech had a warhead twelve meters tall, weighed eighty tons, and was constructed entirely of alloy. Equipped with an all-around radar and a heavy energy shield, it uses eight anti-jointed mechanical legs for climbing and walking, reaching a speed of 120 kilometers per hour. In a prone position, it has sixteen massive mechanical wheels, allowing it to reach a speed of 280 kilometers per hour on the road. It can carry 20 medium-sized missiles, four anti-aircraft missiles, two energy machine guns, and a 360-degree rotating "Fire Snake" heavy machine gun. Finding and killing a fat man in a logistics vest, carrying a modified, broken gun, traveling at 20 kilometers per hour in the jungle would be a piece of cake for such a creature. "Time is running out. Everyone, follow the individual mechs ahead. First, head north, then west, then south, along the Supengman River. The central defense line to the east has been breached, and we're blocked from behind." Tian Xingjian gasped for breath, his lungs congested with blood from the high-speed running. Every breath burned, and he swallowed five mouthfuls of saliva before finishing these few words. "Fatty, is this true?" The mecha soldiers were skeptical. "Fuck! I'm a scout from the special training team!" All the mecha soldiers were silent, and immediately began to implement Tian Xingjian's plan. On the battlefield, scouts are the people that combatants are most willing to trust. Even combat plans must be confirmed by scouts before they can be executed. In the ever-changing battles, scouts often become the objects of reliance for combatants. How to analyze the situation on the battlefield and choose the correct direction of retreat is a compulsory course for scouts. Therefore, the mecha soldiers who had no time to argue immediately believed Tian Xingjian without reservation and accelerated to the north. When the fat man ran to the edge of the jungle, he looked at the federal mecha rolling away at a speed of 150 kilometers per hour, "It's over!" Tian Xingjian threw the gun in his hand to the ground fiercely. Crying: "Why don't you take me with you."
Fatty felt so wronged. He cried like rain. This life was unbearable. He couldn't leave when the fighting started, and when he was allowed to, he couldn't. At the last minute, he tipped someone off and pointed out a way out, yet he was still abandoned here. Although he cried, Tian Xingjian was no fool. He picked up his gun and ran deep into the jungle, nimble as a fat rabbit. As long as the Imperial mechas didn't enter the jungle, Fatty had an 80% chance of escaping. If they followed the Federation mechas, even better. Fatty could run across open areas at top speed. If he could just plunge into the not-so-turbulent waters of the Supengman River, with his fat and his battalion-leading armed swimming record, he could easily reach his base camp. He could eat a few large pieces of barbecue, drink a cup of hot chocolate or tea, and with a little luck, maybe even find some alcohol. Tian Xingjian quickly shook his head to get these foolish thoughts out of his mind. Thinking about these things while he was tired, hungry, and heartbroken was undoubtedly devastating to Fatty. He had to find a hiding place first. If the heavy mechs didn't pursue northward after arriving at the battlefield, but instead gathered up the scattered individual mechs on the spot, then this forest would become their base. The fat man could almost imagine himself being captured, skinned like a sheep, hung from a tree, and whipped. It would be too tragic. He discerned his direction and ran furiously. To increase his chances of survival, he needed to retrieve a few tools. The Federation armored unit's original base was not far from this forest. The fat man quickly reached the camp. After some rummaging through the drawers, he found several individual grenades, a large block of compressed solid energy, and a disused energy machine gun. Most importantly, he found an automated robotic arm used by maintenance soldiers. With it, the fat man could quickly assemble a variety of vehicles from any available parts. Fifteen of his twenty previous escapes had been this way. This time, the supplies seemed much more plentiful than before. But the weight of these items was far too much for the fat man to carry alone. He quickly dug a hole with his maintenance manipulator, burying everything except the grenades in batches. Then, without hesitation, the fat man set a fire, climbed up, and ran. As the fire triggered the ammunition detonation in the order Tian Xingjian had planned, the poor, lonely mechanical maintenance soldier had reached a stinking mud pond in the center of the woods. In just a few minutes, he had completely buried himself, leaving only a hollow tube leading to the grass at the edge of the mud pond. To hide from infrared and bio-radar detection, the anti-detection combat suit alone was not enough. The fat man lowered his breathing and heartbeat to a dangerous level. This was one of the many strange techniques taught to him by that bear-faced instructor in the reconnaissance training camp. Tian Xingjian had an uncanny talent for these strange techniques. He had always believed that if he could stay like this until the end of the war, he didn't mind burying himself even deeper. The Imperial mecha squad outside the forest behaved as the fat man had predicted. Instead of pursuing, they contacted the scattered individual mechas and began to gather their forces. According to their battle plan, this would serve as a forward base for their attack on New Rome. This meant that if Fatty waited until they left before crawling out of the mud, he might as well have carved another tombstone for himself. Poor Tian Xingjian didn't know this. As soon as he relaxed, fatigue washed over him like a tide, and he soon fell asleep in the mud. By then, the Lele Federation's headquarters was in chaos. Phones rang incessantly, as the central computer processed tens of thousands of frontline messages. The combat staff, with pale faces, entered real-time war information into the virtual sandbox. The planet Milok, hovering directly above the hall, was ravaged. The red color, symbolizing the Imperial Army, spread across the virtual planet at an astonishing rate. Of the sixty or so settler cities, more than forty were already under siege. Sixteen had already been captured, and one had been completely reduced to a gray-black hue, a sign of complete destruction. With their air power completely depleted, the Federation's ground defense forces were left to fend for themselves. Large virtual icons representing the Federation's military strength were cut apart by the red Imperial Army and rapidly vanished. In the Commander's Office, Admiral Mihajlovic, in charge of the battle, was reporting the war situation to the President, who had arrived in person. "So far, the Federation has completely lost control of the five colonized planets. The 11th and 12th Space Forces stationed in the Galileo System have been virtually annihilated. Only one Orion-class battleship, several light cruisers, and a Titan-class aircraft carrier, which escaped destruction due to duty rotation, have managed to escape. The Milok Regional Fleet stationed in the Newton System, due to the vastly disparate strength of the enemy, has withdrawn from the Atlantis Sector after losing 50% of its warships, with the approval of the High Command." Admiral Mihajlovic's voice was hoarse. Six months had passed since the Gacharin Empire's undeclared war. Due to the Federation's long-term lack of preparation for war, it had been unable to organize a sufficient defense, let alone a counterattack. The Lele Federation, encompassing eight star systems across three star regions, faced its most daunting test yet. Facing the well-prepared Gacharin Empire, the Lele Federation's military was at a disadvantage. The doves who dominated the government and parliament were overly cautious of the Gacharin royal family, whose history and lineage were steeped in aggression. The military's repeated requests for budget increases were rejected. Funds were scarce, the ships were outdated, and the training was inadequate. Even more frustrating for Mihajlovic was the fact that the army was filled with academic commanders with no experience of war. The Lele Federation had been at peace for too long. In this heroic nation, born three hundred years ago, the older generation of generals who shone brightly in the War of Independence had become mere figures in history textbooks and statues on the lawns of military academies.