The System

Early this morning, journalist Alina White from England, along with a photographer, set up their cameras on the roof of a rented building.

Comora was an accident; being a war correspondent was not her main job.

When the war broke out, she was in the desolate wilderness of neighboring Seligal, filming and tracking the destructive exploitation and plunder of Western capital in underdeveloped Africa countries.

As environmental issues gained momentum and were exploited by politicians, capitalists, and businessmen with ulterior motives, Alina felt she had the right to make a big splash. These disgusting guys were pointing fingers at emissions from the Third World, so let the people see how responsible large corporations operate in Africa.

Upon hearing that war had broken out in Comora, less than 200 kilometers away, the reporter once again sensed a major news story. News doesn't wait for you to report; you have to dig it out, to find a point of direct reporting from ordinary events. She felt she could do it.

Two small countries with standing armies of around a thousand each, with limited land and extremely backward conditions, were engaged in a war that was almost a melee with very little danger. White faces were the best passport to victory.

The potential gains are enormous—sensitive regions, sensitive races, Black people, Africa —as long as even the slightest trace of white people appears in this war, she's confident she can make a big story out of it.

Moreover, with recent reports of China people being kidnapped, she felt even more certain that she had made the right decision to come.

"Hurry up, Cole, how do I look now? Am I okay?"

She looked at her face in the mirror, tidied her hair, and the bright expression on her face gradually turned melancholy, heavy, and resolute—this was the necessary skill of a war correspondent.

Her photographer partner gave her a thumbs up.

Three, two, one.

"We are now in Moyani, the capital of Comora. After a night filled with the smoke of battle, the city is gradually calming down, and sporadic resistance has disappeared. However, this does not mean that Gambia has achieved final victory, because King Chakat II of Comora is still missing. This black king, who once studied in the West, may have already embarked on a revenge journey to reclaim his throne and country."

"And we can also see the magnificent and sacred Royal Palace of Comora standing silently in the distance. This palace has a long history, and after modern renovations and expansions, it silently watches over the country. It is worth mentioning that the renovation and expansion of this palace was undertaken by a China company, China eight employees went missing in the recent war."

"Reports indicate that the Gambia military is suspected of kidnapping these eight China citizens. Regardless, such wanton kidnapping must be condemned..."

"Oh, oh, stop, stop, Alina, you shouldn't say that."

Cole turned off the camera and interrupted helplessly, "Those are China. There's no need to sympathize with China people in the news. Our foolish people don't like to hear that. You should emphasize the political influence of the China in Africa. They've used money and aid to influence the existing political landscape in Africa and threaten the freedom of the people here. That's what our people want to hear..."

Alina rolled her eyes. "Please, it was France, United Kingdom, Belgium, Portugal... France is still doing it now, it's all the colonial-era stuff. Compared to us Western capitalists, the China here are like angels..."

"But what does that have to do with the content of your report?" Cole retorted. "The China are evil, the China are domineering, the China have ill intentions, the China are a huge threat—these are the things that Western people and politicians love to hear. As for the truth, it has never mattered."

"No, it's important, Cole, it's important."

Alina paused for a moment, then said, "I don't care what others do, I still have to adhere to my professional ethics: don't lie, and don't comment on things I don't understand..."

Cole sighed. "Good girl, you'll never achieve anything like this."

Alina blinked. "I'm only twenty-two. Let's talk about that when I'm sixty-two."

"Okay, okay, whatever you want, I'll just get my salary anyway..."

Cole muttered as he turned on the camera, "Go on, miss, tell the world the truth fairly, and may Pulitzer, the god of journalism, bless you..."

Before the words were finished, a flash of light appeared in the distance, followed by a dazzling cloud of smoke and dust, and then a rumbling sound, as the smoke and dust filled most of the palace grounds.

Photographer Cole exclaimed in surprise. Alina heard the sound, turned around, and then her eyes widened in delight before she cried out, "Cole! Cole! Did you see that?!"

--The god of news is watching me!

"Take a picture! Take a picture! Oh! What happened! Is it a terrorist attack? Is it resistance? Cole! Cole! We need to get closer! We need to get closer!"

Alina yelled at her partner, but the next moment, Cole looked up from behind the screen and exclaimed in surprise, "No, no, no! Look, Alina! That Humvee! It's coming right towards us!"

Several drones rose into the sky, overlooking the land. In the real-time footage, the low-rise houses of Comora were clearly visible, and the roads stretched in all directions.

In the makeshift command post, the mercenaries' technical support personnel, focusing on the direction of the armed Humvee, issued orders through the microphone. "... Target has entered Sector B. Warhound-15, your direction. Warhound-8, enter B3 from A4 Street. Warhound-6..."

The Humvee roared and surged forward, kicking up clouds of dust.

Kang Jinzhu glanced at the rearview mirror and shouted, "They're chasing us!"

He looked left and right, pulled out the pistol he had taken from the France, and then tried to press the button on the Humvee's window, but it wouldn't budge.

Kang De glanced at him sideways. "What are you doing?"

Kang Jinzhu said, "Fight them!"

"... You watch too many action movies. Sit still."

No sooner had he finished speaking than an armed jeep equipped with a heavy machine gun rushed out of the street ahead. The next moment, Horus had already opened fire. A hail of 12.7mm penetrating incendiary rounds swept across like a scythe, turning the vehicle and its occupants into a fireball.

The weapons station immediately turned to the rear and fired four grenades, blasting the two vehicles behind them overturned. Flashes of fire and rolling fireballs could be heard, along with the faint screams of the people inside.

Even with everyone watching and two people present, Horus couldn't transform. But in this urban battlefield, the Transformers' powerful reaction and combat capabilities were still unmatched by the mercenaries.

As long as it doesn't encounter tanks, attack helicopters, or even beyond-visual-range fighters, Horus in its Humvee form can handle them more than enough.

Whether it was interception from the front or pursuit from the rear, anything that Horus sensed was destined to be destroyed. The mercenaries' temporary command center quickly realized this and immediately changed its strategy.

After passing an intersection and the next block, three armored vehicles rushed out of the alley. Two of them quickly followed the Humvee, entering the weapons station's blind spot to encircle it, and rammed the Humvee with their bodies. The passenger in the front seat pulled the safety on the Uzi, rolled down the window, and pulled the trigger.

A third car bumped into the rear of the Humvee. The passenger climbed onto the roof, holding a piece of C4 explosive, bent down, steadied himself, and carefully approached.

Kang Jinzhu, glancing at the approaching car and the foreigner's face so close, gripped his pistol and frantically pressed the window button, shouting at Kang De, "Roll down the window!"

The next moment, a sharp circular saw emerged from under the two sides of the Humvee, spinning violently. Horus slammed into the car, and amidst screams, the passenger in one side and the driver in the other were instantly severed at the waist, blood spurting from the ripped door.

Kang De pushed open the car door, swung out while grabbing the roof frame with one hand, and held the GM6 Lynx rifle in the other, pointing it at the startled armored car. The barrel, which had been retracted into the receiver while being carried, popped out.

Two shots rang out, instantly killing the three people inside the car. Kang De leaped onto the armored vehicle, twisted his body, and aimed at the armored car that was pressing against his son's rear, firing three more shots, killing C4, the driver, and the two guys in the back seat. In a flash, he jumped again, and the Humvee slowed down just in time, allowing Kang De to fly perfectly back into the driver's seat, the door closing smoothly.

As for the car on the other side, whose driver had died, it swerved and crashed into a building, coming to a stop and distancing itself from Horus. The others in the car watched in despair as the weapons station turned around and aimed at them.

Armored vehicles are not protected against grenades. If you want them to be, then try firing several armor-piercing grenades.

Kang De retracted the smoking barrel into the receiver, pulled out the huge magazine, replaced it with a new one, and turned to look at his father. "What were you just saying?"

In the blink of an eye, his son performed this fancy move that looked like a quick-time event in a shooting game. Before Kang Jinzhu could even worry, Kang De flew back.

"..."

Kang Jinzhu was speechless for a moment, and could only roll her eyes. Just as she was about to speak, her expression suddenly changed.

"Rocket launcher!"

The rooftops not far away.

"Holy crap! Alina! Did you see that?! Did you see that?! This guy! What did this guy just do?! God! I thought this kind of thing only happened in games! That guy, Fuxking, jumped out of the car and shot those people dead, then Fuxking jumped back in!"

They just wanted to make a big news story, but ended up seeing a two-person action movie crew, leaving them speechless.

Cole excitedly spat out his words: "He looks like a China guy! I saw his black hair and yellow skin! fxck! Who is this guy?! Am I watching a movie?!"

While keeping an eye on the camera, the cameraman frantically pulled out his phone and switched it to recording mode. "I need to Twitter! I need to fucking Twitter!"

The two held their breath, watching the Humvee hurtling around, and then they saw its dazzling exhaust flames.

More than one shot.

"I get it!"

Four mercenaries were speaking simultaneously on the first and second floors of the street.

From the second floor to the right, the rooftop to the side, the street intersection to the left, and the window on the first floor behind, the RPG squad set up an ambush, broadcasting the entire operation through the command system. They calculated the positions and then opened fire simultaneously.

The incident happened suddenly, and the two photographers who had just witnessed the action effects screamed in surprise.

Four rockets hurtled toward the Humvee from all directions.

They're doomed.

Inside the car, Kang Jinzhu instinctively grabbed Kang De, straightened up, and tried to shield her son with her body.

The next moment, Kang De grabbed his father's neck with his other hand, pressed him back into his seat, and lowered his body. At the same time, he took the pistol from his father's hand with his other hand and released the safety.

The braking system activated, the steering wheel turned, the handbrake automatically engaged, and amidst a teeth-grinding screeching sound, the tires gripped the ground, smoke billowed, and the Humvee drifted, suddenly swerving from longitudinal to lateral, traversing the wide intersection. At the same time, the windows on both sides slammed down.

An RPG, trailing a torrent of flame, hurtled past. It was the fastest, hardest to dodge, and most cunning RPG we'd seen recently. It entered through the left window without stopping and exited through the right, roaring as it hurtled backward. Kang De, expressionless, raised his right hand, his eyes gleaming with golden light. Time slowed down, and he fired. Bang!

The second RPG was detonated in mid-air. At the same time, Horus rotated the weapon station, detonating the other two. The dense light and heavy firepower riddled the direction from which the four RPGs came with holes.

The Humvee accelerated again, roared, turned around, and sped forward.

"... Oh my god! What did I just see?! Is this some kind of movie shoot? Those sissies in Hollywood action movies should all go to hell! I should have known China kung fu was real! Oh my god! I filmed it! I filmed it! I filmed it!"

Cole was so excited he was almost incoherent. "I'm going to be number one on the trending topics! This guy is so cool! Alina, you were right! For this guy, I'll never say anything bad about China again! I swear, I'm a fan of this China guy from now on!"

He hugged the camera, kissed it several times, and then started playing back the footage, muttering, "Please, please, please, make sure you get a clear shot of his face, you absolutely, absolutely, absolutely!"

Alina was still reeling from the shock of witnessing that miraculous scene.

She stared at the footage playing back on her phone—even with Cole's high-precision camera, using a phone to take photos and videos was an essential skill for every modern person. She looked at the footage, focusing on a few clips, over and over again.

The China man driving the Humvee.

There was someone in the passenger seat, who also appeared to be China...

What is their relationship?

Why did that China man who knows kung fu come to Comora?

The reporter vaguely realized that if she could figure this out, it would be a major news story that would go viral online.

The Humvee she couldn't forget had already sped out of the Comora.

The mercenaries were terrified and dared not pursue the enemy too much. Moreover, the Humvee had already gone beyond the drone's maximum range and could no longer monitor its position.

The deafening gunfire, explosions, shouts, and noise subsided; the war was over. The Humvee chugged along the Comora's treacherous roads, its body constantly jolting. The sky was blue, and the air smelled of sand. The tense and thrilling chase had come to an end.

Although Kang Jinzhu did not personally experience the battle, it was even more exciting than if he had gone to the battlefield himself... Such a life experience was simply unique, like a dream.

He was almost out of options, but miraculously, he was saved by his own son.

And he's incredibly strong.

That's unbelievable.

The shock in Kang Jinzhu's heart had not subsided at all.

"To be honest..."

He remained silent for a long time, then turned his head and looked at his son.

Do you have some kind of system?

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PS2: Second update, 4,000 words... Ah, I deleted and revised about 1,000 words today, finally finished writing, damn it, time for bed.