Sky-cracking Rider

"What?"

The executive manager of Aircrew Base 909, Ximen Temple Kong, rushed to the tower window and strained to look outside.

He opened his mouth wide, even forgetting that he had just been angry with that damnable duty manager from Aircrew Base 911. He was staring, dumbfounded, at the F-22 that had suddenly entered his field of vision, unconsciously ignoring the MiG-28 that was closely following behind.

F-22?

It was indeed a "Raptor"!

In that instant, he had the surreal feeling of time traveling.

"How can something like this happen, it's against the rules!"

Finally coming to his senses, Ximen Temple Kong bellowed furiously.

Within the permission scope of the Blue Star Global United Defense Committee, the most advanced combat aircraft that all military contractors were allowed to purchase and use was the MiG-28.

Jet MiGs, Turboprop "Big Mouth Monsters," search and rescue and support aircraft like the Z-9 and AH-72, and the licensing for armed helicopters was relatively more lenient, offering more options.

Given the mission objectives of the various aircrew bases, this standard of equipment was more than sufficient. What use was there for more advanced aircraft? What, were they planning a revolt?

The F-22 banked as it made a low pass over Aircrew Base 909. The roaring of its twin engines was deafening. Squadron Leader Chekhov, who was supposedly closely monitoring Chen Fei, also made a low pass, showing off by lightly wagging his wings as if to say, come on, make a move!

This fly-by was rather aggressive.

Low-level flying over someone else's territory was no different than barging into someone's home and kicking them in the face.

Not only the executive manager of Aircrew Base 909 was livid, but even the employees were ready to burst with anger.

"Scramble, scramble, all fighters take off and shoot them down!"

Ximen Temple Kong still retained a shred of rationality and did not order the ground-based anti-aircraft weapons to open fire.

Fighter against fighter, being shot down meant being out-skilled.

Aircrew Base 909 indeed wanted to cause trouble but had not anticipated causing such a big scene. No one had imagined that the reaction from Aircrew Base 911 would be so drastic.

Like firecrackers, they exploded on contact, obliterating the MiG Squadron of Aircrew Base 909 before charging over with a fierce momentum, seemingly indifferent to whether it would trigger corporate warfare and a fight to the death between the two military contractors.

Right, Aircrew Base 911 had also previously gone head-to-head with the industry giant Merman Brothers Consortium, managing to leave them in a sorry state.

The response of the heavily armed MiG was a bit slow, so upon seeing the F-22 making its fly-by, Chekhov said over the comms channel, "Rookie, that's enough."

He also had no intention of starting a war with Aircrew Base 909. His ammunition was primarily air-to-air, with no ground-attack weapons. It was more about deterrence. Continue your journey at empire

On the ground, the pilots of Aircrew Base 909 desperately ran towards the combat aircraft on the apron, betting that the pilots from Aircrew Base 911 wouldn't attack people on the ground.

The profession of combat pilot still retained some semblance of the knight's code.

But in corporate wars where it was kill or be killed, that was a different story. Resorting to any means necessary was normal, and all kinds of schemes and plots were to be expected.

"I'll take another lap."

Chen Fei gently turned the control stick.

It was unclear whether the flight control system of the F-22 had been rewritten to modern standards, or if it was inherently that responsive, or perhaps the smart unit of the "Flying Dragon" tactical armor was coordinating it, but every maneuver perfectly executed his desired flying posture—not too much, and not too little.

In low-altitude fancy flying, deviating even slightly could lead to a catastrophic accident.

"Those guys are getting onto the planes!"

Chekhov Big Bear saw the pilots rushing into the apron and the ground crew getting the fighters ready. Their efficiency was nearly as fast as that of Aircrew Base 911.

Professionalism was evident everywhere. To gain an advantage, they had to seize the initiative.

As the saying goes, the early bird catches the worm, and those who act late suffer the consequences; if you don't move, you deserve to die.

"They won't make it!"

Chen Fei, piloting the F-22 "Raptor" jet fighter, skimmed over the aircraft on the apron, with the side of the wing nearly vertical to the ground looking almost like a phantom. The roar of the engine and the turbulence it caused made people on the ground scramble like turtles stealing watermelons; some rolled, some crawled—all in chaos.

"Let's go!"

Chen Fei flew away at full throttle.

Chekhov Big Bear chuckled, and the MiG-28 quickly followed suit.

On the apron of Aircrew Base 909, two MiG-28s and a row of A-39B "Big Mouth Monsters" unexpectedly snapped in half as if collectively cut at the waist.

"What happened? How did all the fighters break in half?"

"It's unbelievable!"

"Can someone tell me who did this?"

"What's going on here?"

The ground crew who had painstakingly prepared the fighters were frantic; all their efforts were in vain.

Could the fighters, mysteriously severed in half, still take off?

Was that even a question?

The infuriated pilots who had rushed to the apron saw fragments of what had happened due to the distance.

"It was that F-22, it did this!"

"Was that a ghost fighter?"

"The F-22 sliced our fighters with its wing."

"How is that possible?"

Soon, everyone was as shocked as if they had seen a ghost.

From a distance, Ximen Temple Kong, the executive manager of Aircrew Base 909, almost spat out a mouthful of blood. He even almost jumped down from the tower.

What was the most important thing at an aircrew base?

Fighters!

Fighters!!

Fighter jets!!!

Without fighter jets, what's an aircrew base for?

A radius of five hundred kilometers, patrolled on one's own two legs?

It was foreseeable that once Aircrew Base 909 lost these fighter jets, this month's contract money was certainly gone. Without doing what needed to be done, why should they get paid? Despite all arguments, it came down to this simple truth.

Without this huge sum of money, the boss, furious as thunder, would definitely look for someone to take the blame.

At this moment, who else could it be but oneself?

With a deathly pale face, Ximen Temple Kong trembled as he took out his phone, selected a contact, and dialed.

"Boss, it's Ximen, our fighter jets, they're all destroyed..."

A moment later, his face a picture of hopelessness, he hung up the call, numbly pulled out a pistol, chambered a round, flicked off the safety, and aimed it at his own head.

The people in the tower saw this and were collectively horrified, rushing over.

"Manager, don't!"

Bang!

...

Victory belongs to the king, defeat to the enemy, what is there to say!

'Rookie,' begin your return to base!"

"'Peanut Butter,' begin your return to base!"

One after another, Chen Fei's and Squadron Leader Chekhov's voices came through the communication channel. The on-duty manager Mahnam, as anxious as an ant on a hot pan, finally let out a long sigh of relief. The signal captured by the ground-based radar confirmed this; two friendly aircraft symbols were flying towards Aircrew Base 911.

Good lord, they're finally coming back!

Under tremendous pressure, Mahnam wiped his sweat while shaking his head continuously.

This team was just too hard to handle, too nerve-wracking. Probably only Boss Hanna could keep these troublesome fellows in line.

He never imagined Chen Fei's so-called "just grazing" would cause such a commotion at Aircrew Base 909, almost leading the executive manager, his peer, to lose it—if not for his subordinates' quick action, stopping him in time, he might have got shot.

"This aircraft is really great, will I be able to take the controls later?"

Inside the cockpit of the MiG-28 trailing behind the F-22, Chekhov Big Bear couldn't stop slobbering, practically drooling.

Laymen watch the excitement; experts watch the technique. The F-22, fully revived on the spot at Aircrew Base 909, performed acrobatic maneuvers at ultra-low altitude.

Its fierce and aggressive mobility implied that its control capability far surpassed that of the MiG; not just the MiG-28, but even the original factory models like the MiG-29, -31, -35, -37 were no match for this "Raptor," leaving Big Bear salivating uncontrollably.

"No way, a man's wife and his fighter jet are not to be lent out!"

This F-22 was private property, not a public fighter jet. Chen Fei righteously refused Squadron Leader Big Bear's improper request.

He had offered a 9.999 discount, yet the other party wasn't willing to pay even a billion Star Yuan. Still, they wanted a bargain, dream on, eat shit!

"Just a quick flight, just a quick one! Don't be so stingy," Chekhov persisted.

The area around the anti-G suit's crotch was damp with drool.

"I'm poor, so I have to be stingy!"

Chen Fei spoke with an air of 'I'm poor, so I'm in the right,' pushing back against Chekhov's greedy longing.

"..."

Chekhov had never met someone so poor yet so stubbornly unyielding.

Chen Fei played his trump card, murmuring eerily, "Be careful I tell Big Brother Xiao..."

"Hey! Stop, let's just talk nicely, it's an internal issue, let's solve it internally, no need to bring Xiao Ming into this!"

Upon hearing the name of the uncompromising and hard-fisted Chief Mechanic Xiao, Chekhov Big Bear immediately caved. That big guy was utterly unreasonable; wherever he saw fit, he'd come at you with a direct punch.

"No problem, our internal problems, we'll solve internally, 'Rookie,' I'll help you!"

The voice of "Devil Pepper" Irinei Rusios cut in. Unexpectedly, this short-haired girl was also monitoring flight communications.

"Little Chili, I haven't done anything yet!"

In the aircrew base, Chekhov was most afraid of Xiao Jixiu the mechanic, who was both blunt and just wouldn't listen to reason. Second was his own squadron partner, Deputy Squadron Leader Irinei Rusios; her inexplicable tantrums really threw him off his game. Additionally, she was flat-chested, which was not to his liking.

Third was Boss Hanna Gagel. Since he hadn't been sorted out by her as much, if she did it just a few more times, she'd likely rise in the rankings.

"It's too late by the time you do something. We'll have a good chat later!"

For some reason, the short-haired girl had her sights set on Squadron Leader Chekhov.

In a way, she was also Chen Fei's mentor when he first entered the pilot community, teaching him many basic flying skills, hand-to-hand. She had spent a lot of effort instructing him.

A master standing up for their disciple was only natural.

Irinei Rusios had set her sights on Chekhov Big Bear, determined to have it out with him today.

The communication channel buzzed with chatter, making Big Bear all the more flustered.

Before long, the F-22 landed smoothly, with the MiG-28 following closely behind.

Just as Chen Fei opened the canopy, he saw Squadron Leader Big Bear's MiG-28 sluggishly taxi into the apron.

The Deputy Squadron Leader of Team "Genuine Fragrance," "Devil Pepper" Irinei Rusios, blocked the apron.

"Chekhov, if you're a man, get down here!"

"Being a man doesn't need proof from you!"

"Have the guts not to stick inside the aircraft! Come down now!"

"I refuse!"

...

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