Wherever He Went

Su Hao quickly confirmed the attack target through the fighter's Radar display, while also spotting the Fighter Group advancing from the human side.

He tried operating it for a while and soon smoothly piloted the fighter forward.

At that moment, the Fighter Group ahead encountered the Eight-Armed Tribe's Octo-Fighters.

For a time, all kinds of Energy Bullets poured forth like rain, blasting at one another.

The Energy Bullets looked densely packed, yet in the vast emptiness of space, they seemed insignificant. In such an exchange of fire, it all came down to whose luck ran out and who happened to get hit.

Under such circumstances, probability was practically mysticism. Anyone who got hit would surely be left wondering: with so many people around, why was I the unlucky one? Before Su Hao's eyes, several brilliant fireworks bloomed in succession, quietly blossoming amid the stars—the flames of fighters being struck and exploding.

Clearly, the moment they came into contact, someone had already gotten unlucky.

There were humans among them, as well as members of the Eight-Armed Tribe.

No matter how masterfully one piloted a fighter or what wild maneuvers one pulled off, when bad luck came knocking, there was no escaping it.

However, a fighter exploding did not mean its pilot immediately died.

Before boarding their fighters, everyone wore thick armor. As long as the armor remained intact, they would not die for a short time and could even use the armor's propulsion system to fly back to the ship.

But in most cases, they could only wait quietly until the fighter battle ended, leaving the victor with the right to shoot down the other side.

So once a fighter was blown apart, all one could do was pray that one's teammates were up to the task.

Captain Yan locked onto