Counterfeit Hero

As a seasoned mercenary, the thirty-two-year-old Feischer is considered a veteran within the bandit army. Though he has experienced small-scale battles during past missions, this is his first time fighting a battle like this.

Blowing out a smoke ring, Feischer glanced at the muddy boots of the man on the shooting position and shook his head. That was his comrade, whom he had met after joining the bandit army. A former company employee, he joined the bandit army seemingly out of some unknown provocation, despite being mild-mannered. He miraculously survived the harsh training, and even more miraculously, he is still alive after six or seven hours of frantic battle!

A shell landed not far from the trench, with flying dirt smacking painfully against Feischer’s face. He shielded his head and face with his arm, enduring the rain of dirt, and grumbled as he spat out the cigarette now covered in soil. He stood on tiptoe to glance at the shooting position, confirming that the company employee replacing him was still fervently pulling the trigger, which allowed him to sit down again and light up another cigarette.

The enemy’s offensive never ceased. Several times, those gray silhouettes rushed into the trenches, only to be fought out by the desperate counterattacks of the reserves. The trenches were dug deep, supported by bulletproof walls and sections of curved explosion-proof sheds. Inside, it wasn’t much to feel. On the shooting position, it was truly lethal.

The entire battlefield was shrouded in smoke. Shells rained down left, right, forward, and backward. The dense rain of shells repeatedly pummeled the ground in front of the battlefield; looking out from the shooting position, there were bullet holes everywhere.

The battle has lasted for nearly six hours. The offensive two hours ago was the most perilous. At that time, less than a platoon remained in the combat trench. The rear troops were trapped by the covering artillery fire in the communication trench, and no ammunition was coming up. Across the 300-meter-wide battlefield, only one person could be placed at each shooting position.

The enemy was obviously calculated; hours of intense attacks just awaited that moment. Over a dozen Mecha charged forward with densely packed infantry. The first combat trench was breached, with several Mechas jumping into the trench, and the energy machine gun fired right in front of Feischer. The trench walls and pit bottom were splattered with flying dirt. Several warriors were ripped apart without even a sound, blood spraying all over the trench.

At that moment, Feischer was frantically shooting. Shooting at the incoming infantry and the Mechas. He couldn’t care if it was effective or not; he never thought he’d survive. As long as he could shoot, he did. His partner, the company employee, grabbed a Fusion Hand Grenade and charged.....that guy was a madman!

Drawing deeply on his cigarette, Feischer found it somewhat amusing. He didn’t even know how he survived. Anyway, he only remembers that when he was in despair, the guys from SM 3rd Group arrived.

Feischer hadn’t admired many people in his life, but he was impressed by those guys. Their Mecha skills were truly unparalleled. In just one round, several enemy Mechas charging into the battlefield turned into scrap metal. Those moves were so beautifully executed that it didn’t seem like something Mechas could do, and were deadly! Feischer could even sense the killing intent emanating from those ugly Mechas of the 3rd Group.

Later on, Feischer discovered that not only had he survived, but the company employee who threw the grenade at a suicidal distance also survived. Then the reinforcements arrived, and ammunition was brought up. The Mechas of the SM 3rd Group not only helped defend the position but also launched a countercharge.

The wounded enemy couldn’t regain their breath for a full half-hour.

When the SM 3rd Group was gathering behind the battlefield, preparing to head to other defense lines, Feischer tossed a cigarette to a Mechanical Warrior.

The Mechanical Warrior leaned weakly against the cockpit edge, smiling at him.

While smoking, Feischer noticed his hands were shaking.

It wasn’t a slight tremble but a violent one, shaking nonstop, unable even to aim accurately towards his mouth.

Reportedly, the 3rd Group hadn’t rested since waking up yesterday morning. Last night, they fought an impressive battle at Pingqi Ridge. They annihilated a fully equipped Armored Group of the formidable Suss people. Then, without stopping, they traveled over 300 kilometers to locate and annihilate two Blood Shadow Armored Battalions, known as the soul of the Northern Alliance.

It sounds simple, but Feischer, exhausted after crouching in the trench for two to three hours, can fully imagine that the 3rd Group’s battles must have been far more intense and brutal than his own experience.

Moreover, before supporting this position, they had already supported countless other positions. Now, they still couldn’t rest; unless the enemy’s offensive intensity lessened, they would have to keep running and fighting. Some were supporting various positions along the Three-Ring Road, while others attacked the enemy on the outskirts.....why did everyone turn into reckless madmen after joining the bandit army?

Mechas might not need to rest, but humans do.

Lost in thought, Feischer suddenly paused; he tossed his cigarette butt, stood up, and looked around. He felt he had an idea to report to the platoon leader.......