The beautiful daily life of Black Light Salted Fish

The atmosphere in the large tent began to become tense.

On the sofa in the center of the crowd, an old man wearing camouflage uniforms and a sinister face crossed his legs and cast a cold gaze forward. The weapons of more than a dozen people in the field were faintly raised, including the one-eyed dragon Marcel. He also gripped the handle of the gun tightly with a straight face. The relaxed and cheerful demeanor he had when leading the way had disappeared.

But Watson remained silent.

"Don't be nervous, everyone, there is no need for us to conflict. Mr. Deathstroke, you are a guest who has been kind to us. Moreover, I believe Marcel is not lying. Your fighting performance is indeed very strong."

After a stalemate for a while, the old man finally spoke again: "But for us Illyrians, showing sincerity is a very important step. I thank you for your help to Marcel, but since you want to go further, you must Be honest. At least, I don’t think a person who is unwilling to take off his helmet has any sincerity towards us. Or..."

He slowly leaned his head forward: "Are you afraid?"

I almost can't understand your weird English accent. Watson looked at the old man's gray-white beard and hair, which were comparable to those of a lion. They were swaying slightly with the owner's movements, reminiscent of a demonstration video of CG hair special effects. And from a physical point of view, he is still as energetic as an old lion, with no obvious signs of aging... But now is not the time to desert. Watson moved his vocal cords and let out a deep voice. Deep voice:

"I had no weapons on me and I thought that was sincerity enough."

As soon as he finished saying this, Marcel's one eye quickly glanced towards the old man, and then immediately turned back to Watson's face.

"We might as well... keep it simple."

Watson put his hand on the chest strap and gently stroked the magazine: "I am just an outsider. I can't even understand your language. You don't have to worry about me gaining a foothold in this place. To be honest, I'm just here. It’s just a matter of getting money to do something. After I finish this job, I will even think about leaving here on the same day, so you see, the relationship between us is actually very simple, and it is difficult to go further, do you understand? "

Dead silence.

The old man squinted his eyes for a while, then slowly stood up from his seat. Although he has white hair, his figure is still as tall and tall as a soldier. He walked closer step by step with his hands behind his back: "Business is business, I won't be stingy with the money I should give you, but we will keep an eye on you, understand? Next we will launch an all-out attack, and many people will lose their lives. As for you... Mr. Deathstroke, you'd better make sure you're as useful as Marcel says you'll be when the time comes."

"I will, Mr. Figueroa."

Not only is your accent difficult to understand, your name is also difficult to pronounce. Watson stopped talking nonsense and went directly to the topic: "So, in order for me to maximize my effectiveness in the battle, can you give me some basic information?"

"for example?"

"For example, the number of enemies, weapon configuration and combat terrain, how many commanding heights are there? Where are they specifically? Is there heavy firepower? Which direction is the main bunker? Are there reinforcements in the nearby area? If so, how long will it take after the war starts? Then Regarding personnel, how many sentinel points are there? Where are they approximately? What are the times for eating, sleeping, resting and changing of guard?"

Figueroa looked at him for a while, raised an eyebrow and nodded: "I will give you a map, don't ask anything else."

Watson was a little confused about what this man meant. It wasn't until a map was thrust into his hand that he remembered: In Albania, nodding and shaking the head have opposite meanings... Then he looked down and saw WDNMD hand-drawn map? Is this how you fight?

Forget it, don't count on it.

Turning around and leaving the tent, the bright torch was left behind. The dark mountains in front of him seemed like another world, with only scattered firelights lighting up among the crowd. But at this moment, a loud sound suddenly tore through the sky, water droplets rushed towards the face with chill, and the continuous winter rain visited the land of the Eagle Country again.

There was some commotion in the crowd in the dark, and those who were lazy during the day had to get up and finish the work of setting up tents that they had not finished yet.

"This damn rain..."

A man walked over with his hand covering his forehead and holding a gun. When he suddenly saw the huge black figure of Deathstroke, he trembled in fright and walked away muttering. Watson walked straight towards the red pickup truck, and as soon as he got closer, he heard the sound of music coming from behind. A few people were playing with the car radio there, and then the crackling sound was replaced by a burst of rock music, and they immediately started cheering. Watson recognized his two unlucky roommates. They were sandwiching Aggie on the left and right.

The boy's expression was a bit unnatural.

What's going on here? Are the left and right men?

Watson silently sat in the back compartment, and the heavy weight made the car sink. Several people in the front seats looked back and did not react. He was also happy about it. It didn't matter whether he got wet or not, but he still had to be careful with his weapons and equipment. Watson used a few iron rods to hold up the tarpaulin, preparing to dismantle the PKM machine gun's receiver, complete daily maintenance, and then study the shabby map.

"I said why are you so afraid of him?"

The sound of conversation quickly became apparent as the song on the radio progressed to its end. Upon hearing this, Watson's helmet remained still, but the two eyes at the back immediately aimed at the driver's seat.

"You have killed so many people, and you are still afraid of this?"

Through the rear window, he saw the lips of one of his unlucky roommates moving: "That password dial only has three numbers, three numbers! And it's very big. Can't you remember it just by looking at it? Just pretend When I'm bored and have nothing to do, I just turn my head a few times and look around, and I can see it directly, right? I'm sure he won't notice it, okay? With so many eyes here, who will keep paying attention?"

Password wheel? 3?

Are you talking about my ammunition box?

"Can you please stop talking here..."

Aji said half a sentence weakly, but was immediately interrupted by the man: "Why can't I say it? I'll say it loudly here! He can't understand us, what can I do? What is there to be afraid of?" I don’t even know what you have to be afraid of! Look!”

The man suddenly turned his head: "Hey! Deathstroke!"

Watson turned around.

"(English) You're great! You're great!" The man gave him two thumbs up, then grinned and quickly switched to Albanian: "That's you! Stupid pig! The son of a bitch. Do you know about the fetus thing? You are as stupid as a sheep in the ravine, whose skull is knocked off and used as a urinal! If you go to the battlefield, die immediately, I will be upset just by looking at you!"

When saying this, the man still maintained a smile on his face.

If Watson didn't understand it completely, he might actually think that the other party was laughing and praising him. He caught a glimpse of the bruise on Aji's face, then nodded slightly in response, and then began to maintain the machine gun.

"Look!"

Seeing Deathstroke's reaction, the man almost couldn't hold back his laughter. He hugged Aji's neck and shook it hard: "I said he doesn't understand shit! What's there to be afraid of? You're going to steal that armor later and reward me." I’ll give you one! That’s it, okay?”

Ok.

Watson made a sign of agreement under his helmet and took out the whetstone from his body.

Time to sharpen the knife.

After an advertisement in an unknown language, enthusiastic disco music came from the radio. Several people shook their bodies happily, and the atmosphere inside and outside the car was filled with joy.

......

March 1998, 1, early morning.

call out----

boom!

With the familiar sound of explosions and mortar shells setting off debris on the surface of the building, the gang members charged towards the manor on the hillside in vehicles. This is one of the bases of a western criminal group. Watson is not interested in knowing the names of those guys. He only knows that the one-eyed dragon Marcel has given him a request, which is to capture alive the enemy leader hiding in the manor. But before that, he needs to solve some problems.

For example, there are old artillery pieces hidden in the bunker in front that are said to be left over from World War II.

"History will remember what happened today!"

In the center of the charging array, Figueroa's violent shouts spread through the roof speakers: "All preparations are today! My brothers! Because of us, the Illyrian Alliance, we are destined to make history!"

This broken loudspeaker started shouting when the first mortar shell exploded. Several minutes passed, and the phrases were basically not repeated. The movement was indeed loud enough and attracted a lot of firepower nearby. It's just that the whole body of the car is covered tightly by iron plates, and it has a modified style of a wasteland death locomotive. I don’t know if the recording is playing, or if the old lion Figueroa is really sitting in it.

The gang members were yelling as usual, and their morale seemed to be really high.

Bang bang bang! !

Watson grabbed the Deshka heavy machine gun and fired in short bursts, directly destroying a simple wooden sentry tower. However, at the same time, there was also the sound of the pickup truck being hit by bullets. Aji had to take off the accelerator and try to continuously deflect the direction of travel to avoid being grasped by the shooter in the distance.

boom!

Thick white smoke rose from a mound in the distance, and then the small slope on the right side of the pickup truck exploded. Splashing gravel and mud covered half of Watson's body.

"Aggie! Go!"

There was no guarantee that there would be a second cannon on the opposite side, so Watson did not dare to delay any longer and quickly asked Aji to rush forward. Fortunately, there are many hills here, and the opponent's shooting field of view is greatly restricted. If it were on the Normandy beach, the Illyrian Alliance would probably die.

The red pickup truck roared towards the bottom of the slope, plowing out several long marks when it braked suddenly, and hit the stone wall hard on the side. A series of engine roars followed, and some drivers failed to brake in time, directly leading to a tragic series of car accidents in the rear. However, they finally broke through the first fire blockade. The gang members got out of the car and picked up their weapons, preparing to start a tough battle against the outer defense circle.

But Marcel's men were more relaxed.

Because there is a death knell here.

After jumping out of the car with the PKM machine gun on his shoulder, Watson threw four 4-round magazine boxes and two grenade belts to Aji, and then climbed up first. After so many battles, he also realized that although the armor was very durable, the magazines and equipment on the surface of the body were really fragile and would basically be scrapped after one or two shots. Especially the 250-round ammunition box as big as a rice bowl, if one is broken or the other is missing, try not to hang it in front of you.

Snapped!

A bullet hit the shoulder armor and bounced directly away.

Watson raised the PKM machine gun, and his broad body completely covered Aji behind him. In the thermal field of view, there are fixed targets that are shaking slightly all over the mountains and plains. A few shots will take away one, and the 250-round magazine will soon be completely empty. Watson covered Aji and walked into the next bunker. When he lowered his head and looked at his chest, he couldn't help but cursed secretly. Another 40-round magazine of the RPK light machine gun was interrupted.

boom!

Another cannonball exploded on top, showering everyone with gravel and mud.

"It's up to you! Deathstroke!"

Marcel's loud voice came from behind.

I wonder if the Lannister International has noticed me, but they'd better come soon.

The words of the one-eyed dragon were directly filtered by the ears. Watson observed with the telescope while mentally distracted. The group of people on the opposite side actually still mainly use light weapons. It wouldn't be too difficult if I really wanted to speed through, but that would not meet the expected goal. It's time to let some water go. It's best to let this battle continue for several days. It would be better if reinforcements come, because that will definitely cause a lot more noise.