CHAPTER 369: CHAPTER 17: FRUSTRATION

The "swarm" power is activated, the battlefield routing is set up, the data link networking is complete, and the formation is ready to take off.

Jiang Menglong opened the window and saw one micro drone after another buzzing softly as they flew out in a stream. With a tap on the command tablet, dozens of "little guys" quietly flew away along the preset routes.

Fifty drones quickly ascended to a hundred meters high, skillfully crossed over rooftops, skimmed over walls, and quietly gathered on the east side of Farmville Town.

At noon, with the sun blazing in the sky, most of the town’s residents were lazily staying at home, either drowsy from the heat or sighing from their worries, completely unaware of the unusual movement in the sky.

Even the sentries patrolling on the walls focused only on the immediate surroundings. They might catch the faint buzzing of the swarm above, but when they looked up, there was nothing to be seen.

Meanwhile, Zhou Qingfeng was already on the eastern outskirts of the town, where the simple base station’s antenna was fully set up and powered by a portable lithium battery.

The slender Tang Wen crouched beside him, operating a reinforced military laptop. With a touch pen in hand, he precisely selected and locked onto targets on the map displayed on the screen.

"President Zhou, are these devices provided by the military?" Tang Wen asked curiously, "The mode of warfare is really different now. In the future, soldiers might not even need firearms, but drones will be indispensable."

A hundred meters away, a platoon from the "Richmond Guard Team" was lounging around. Some were daydreaming, some were idling, and some simply set up ammunition boxes in the shade to lie down and snore away.

An RG-33 armored vehicle was scorching hot under the midday sun, its surface as searing as molten iron.

The soldier on guard duty was wearing a heavy full gear, standing unprotected on top of the vehicle, already drenched in sweat, continuously pouring water from a military canteen over his head, looking on the verge of heatstroke.

Zhou Qingfeng glanced at the screen of the reinforced laptop, shook his head, and said, "No, these are all civilian products."

"Civilian?" Tang Wen asked incredulously, "How can something this impressive be civilian?"

"I’m not lying to you. This is indeed a shelf product exported by a domestic private enterprise, which has made multiple appearances at domestic airshows and defense exhibitions.

Of course, ordinary people don’t have the qualifications to purchase it, and importing is not easy. But I’m different. I have procurement channels and an import license in the United States.

Many domestic products like this use the latest technology for export versions, perform even better than the ones for self-use, and are not expensive. Bulk purchases even come with discounts.

The only expensive parts of these little things are the chips. The integration level is high, but the motors, batteries, and cameras are quite cheap."

Zhou Qingfeng sighed and said, "If only I could directly import equipment from home now, I wouldn’t need to go through so much trouble with these white people."

At this moment, the drone "swarm" had quietly reached the target area overhead.

Tang Wen had also completed visual recognition confirmation for all targets, assigning attack tasks to each "Hummingbird" drone.

He moved the mouse cursor to the "Attack Confirmation" interface, fingers slightly trembling, and turned to say, "Everything is ready, can we attack now?"

Zhou Qingfeng nodded, indicating "confirm."

Tang Wen hesitated instead. With this click, it would mean taking the lives of dozens of people. Seeing Zhou Qingfeng only nodding without saying a word, he confirmed once more, "Can we attack now?"

"Yes," Zhou Qingfeng responded in a deep voice.

With a light click of the mouse, Tang Wen felt as if most of his strength had been drained, not daring to look at the screen again.

Meanwhile, the fifty "Hummingbird" drones, upon receiving the command, plummeted from a hundred-meter height, rapidly swooping towards their locked targets.

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On the ground, Major Fleming set up a camp bed under a tree and lay down comfortably, clutching a bottle of chilled cola, with droplets of water sliding down the aluminum can’s exterior.

The RG-33 armored vehicle came with a fridge, cooling itself with its fuel-powered generator. The cola was provided by logistics, sourced from a military supply warehouse or scavenged.

Before the apocalypse, Fleming was just a lieutenant but rose three ranks in the chaos to become a major, though still only a leader of an understrength mobile platoon.

Before the apocalypse, drinking a can of cola was nothing noteworthy. However, currently, any survival supplies are incredibly precious, making them seem luxurious and necessary to enjoy.

To the major, while he personally might not force "Holy Light" or anyone to surrender, the "Richmond Guard Team" behind him had the capability.

Major General Borg was well aware of the lucrative target ahead, surely deploying forces to seize it forcefully. This was unrelated to justice and purely for survival.

No matter whether those Chinese were keeping white slaves or not, in these soldiers’ eyes, they deserved to die, making no distinction, much like the Native Americans over two hundred years ago.

The only thing the major did not anticipate was... that this group of Chinese would dare to initiate an attack.

When the "Hummingbird" swarm began its dive, the rotor buzzing suddenly intensified, making it impossible for the soldiers on the ground not to notice.

Some soldiers curiously lifted their heads, raised their hands to block the glaring sunlight, and looked to the sky, trying to identify the unusual noise.

Major Fleming, however, had the advantage of being in the shade. He only needed to open his eyes to see a tiny black dot rapidly approaching him.

Almost by instinct, the major raised his arms to shield his face, immediately feeling something collide with him.