Thirty days have passed since 2K World, and only three days have passed since Warhammer World.
Alpha Hive City, outpost unloading area.
Fu Haoran stood in front of a row of newly assembled glide bombs, with his hands behind his back, his eyes calmly scanning the rough welds of the bombs, the unscratched red paint of the gas tanks, and the exposed standard bolts.
There was no frown, no dissatisfaction, just a sense of determination.
Knowing that it is ridiculously rough, but knowing that it can blow up the fortress opposite to nothing.
Priest Kallen stepped forward and aimed the optical eyepiece at the front bomb. The binary data stream flashed across the screen crazily in the field of vision. It took half a minute to stop. The mechanical tentacles were trembling slightly due to excessive shock.
This is a 4-ton glide-guided bomb. The idea is extremely rough and extremely effective.
The projectile body is a thickened industrial stamped steel barrel, with eight household gas tanks welded inside as explosion enhancement units, and the gaps are filled with Promethium explosive.
The total weight is 4.2 tons, of which 3.8 tons are explosives.
A set of folding gliders are bolted to the tail. The aluminum alloy frame is covered with high-strength plastic skin. There is no welding. It is a standard quick-release structure. If it breaks, it can be replaced with bare hands.
Attitude adjustment relies on two servos removed from a civilian UAV. The power is a brushless motor used for model aircraft, which drives a palmer's propeller and is only responsible for ballistic correction in the Lei section.
At the front end is a sealed Wetware core cabin, and a Servo-Skull that has been sanctified by Mechanicus Cult.
Inside the skull cavity is the brain of Wetware that has been stripped of consciousness and only retains its neural computing capabilities. The micro-nutrient fluid circulation system is sealed at the base of the skull to maintain the activity of nerve cells.
The front end of the skull is connected to a 270-degree wide-angle camera module removed from a scrapped Android phone. On the side is a reinforced SD card slot, which contains an industrial-grade memory card filled with a library of coalition target signatures.
"Sir." Kallen's voice contained a confusion that he had never experienced in hundreds of years of living, "This----
What on earth is Relic?"
"Aviation glide bomb." Fu Haoran knocked on the thick steel barrel body, making a dull sound.
"I saw it. My question is--ninety percent of this thing is explosive."
Kallen's mechanical tentacles gently poked the gas company's logo that had not been worn off on the missile body. "The glider is the backlog of the aircraft model factory, the steering gear is rushed out of the civilian toy factory, the motor is the clearance inventory of the aircraft model circle, and the warning sign of the civilian gas company is printed on the missile body."
He paused, his tone full of helplessness. "If any Gear Kid in Forge World dares to create such a blasphemous thing to Omnissiah, I will personally throw him into the consecration incinerator."
Lucifer held a can of iced Coke in his hand, his green eyes swept over the bomb, and there was an undisguised sarcasm at the corner of his mouth.
"I've seen trebuchets from the barbaric era of humans in the museum, and they are more sophisticated than this. Monkeys use tree branches to dig out ant nests, which is about the same level."
Tychus stood nearby, Gray Ogryn's tall body partially blocked the light.
He circled the bomb three times with the Cigar in his mouth, the cigarette curling up at the corner of his mouth, and said as tactfully as possible, "Head, from an engineering mechanics perspective, its aerodynamic shape is indeed a bit rough."
He paused and added truthfully, "But it doesn't matter. If you pack enough explosives, even if it's a few dozen meters away, you can blow up the target until there's no residue left."
Fu Haoran was not angry. Instead, he knocked on the thick projectile with a smile and quoted the price one by one, "Industrial steel drum shell, OEM in Foshan, equivalent to 12 US dollars each."
"The hang glider kit is customized by Dongguan Model Aircraft Shop. It has an aluminum alloy frame and a plastic mask belt servo. The whole set costs US$5."
"Brushless motor, overstocked in overseas warehouse, $3 each."
"Camera module, Huaqiangbei scrapped mobile phone dismantled parts, collected by the pound, converted to 10 US dollars each."
He pointed at the Servo-Skull on the front, "The only valuable one is this Wetware, which costs 50 US dollars."
"This is the brain of a science and engineering programmer. It has strong logical computing capabilities. It costs an extra $50."
As soon as the words fell to the ground, the whole place fell silent.
The optical eyepiece of Kallen suddenly flashed red and almost overloaded and shut down the machine on the spot.
Lucifer almost spit out the Coke he just drank.
Tychus froze while scratching his chin, and Cigar fell from his mouth to the ground without even reacting.
Kallen was silent for a full ten seconds, mentally scrolling wildly: Omnissiah, is this the technology from Dark Age of Technology? Use the lowest civilian garbage to create a killing weapon that can overturn the coalition fortress?
He didn't dare to say these words. No one had pierced the layer of paper about Dark Age of Technology.
Fu Haoran looked at everyone's expressions and added in his mind, "In modern war, what matters to the end is never the sophistication of a single weapon, but the industrial production capacity and supply chain."
"And in my hands, I have a whole world's excess production capacity that I can absorb."
After visiting and inspecting the factory, Fu Haoran issued an instruction. "Before departure, show Wetware the target photos for ten minutes.
After taking off, the camera captures the image, and Wetware autonomously compares the features and locks the target."
"If there is ground guidance, give priority to attacking the Laser mark."
"The match is successful, cut off the glider lock, lock the steering gear, push the motor at full speed, hit it, and blow it up."
After solving the bomb itself, the remaining problem is how to accurately throw these "rags" on the heads of the coalition forces.
The practical ceiling of the MiG-25 is 40,000 meters.
The Alliance fleet's close-in defense guns are affected by atmospheric refraction and planet curvature. For tiny targets at this height, the detection efficiency will drop sharply to less than 10%.
The ceiling of the Thunderbolt Fighter is only 19,000 meters, and it cannot even touch the exhaust of the MiG-25.
Above 40,000 meters, it is the area where Fu Haoran has absolute air superiority.
But height alone is not enough, mid-range guidance is also needed.
"We still lack an early warning aircraft. This is the core of the air combat system. Otherwise, beyond visual range attacks cannot be achieved."
"There are early warning aircraft equipment. The old guy I bought from the black market can barely use it, but this size--"
Fu Haoran Looking at the early warning equipment as big as a hill, my head hurts.
"No matter what, just stuff it into Storm Eagle Gunship and temporarily convert it into an early warning aircraft."
Storm Eagle itself is equipped with the powerful sensor array and long-distance communication system of the Imperial Army, while Fu Haoran only adds some obsolete military-grade equipment to it, which can barely provide guidance for missiles.
Of course, if this is just the case, Fu Haoran still feels unsafe.
Fu Haoran gave each Genestealer Guerrilla Unit behind enemy lines a 2K World industrial-grade near-infrared Laser indicator.
The price is around US$100.
In clear weather, the effective range of the infrared beam exceeds three kilometers and is completely invisible to the human eye. It will only leave a clear infrared spot on the target surface, which the bomb's Wetware camera can accurately capture.
"When you see the target, use this thing to shine on its command post, vents, and ammunition depot, and the bomb will fly over by itself."
Fu Haoran only said this sentence during the pre-war training.
The Guerrilla Unit members clutched the palm-sized Laser pen, doubtful.
They have been fighting for half their lives, and the most advanced weapon they have ever seen is the Hydra Flak Cannon. They have never heard of a bomb being summoned from hundreds of kilometers away with an invisible light.
But they are fanatical believers of Genestealer Cult. Fu Haoran is Intercessor ordained by Four-Armed Emperor. His instructions are the will of God-Emperor. No believer will question it.
Eight hundred kilometers away, the base of No. 7 Ore Refinery.
The commander of the coalition 17th Infantry Regiment, Colonel Erich Klein, is standing on the observation post on the top floor of the refinery.
High-powered military telescopes scanned the desert in the morning light. His defense area was as quiet as a tomb.
--
This refinery is an old building from the early Hive City period, and is itself half a permanent fortress.
The reinforced concrete wall is three meters thick, and the top is protected by a heavy steel frame with an ore dumping spout that cannot even be penetrated by a large-caliber machine gun.
Colonel Klein strictly followed the coalition's tactical teachings and set up the regiment headquarters in an old ore warehouse thirty meters underground. Above his head was three layers of reinforced concrete and a twenty-meter-thick rock formation. Not to mention ordinary aerial bombs, even if the coalition navy's large-caliber naval gun directly hit it, it might not be able to penetrate it.
He dug three circular trenches on the periphery, each trench was equipped with four heavy machine gun nests. Twelve Hydra Flak Cannon were deployed at the commanding heights, and a mortar platoon was hidden behind the reverse slope.
All soldiers were hiding in underground fortifications, and only anti-aircraft sentries were on duty on the ground. The ammunition warehouse was hidden in the cellar under the second trench, and it was covered with three layers of sandbags and a layer of steel plates, making it foolproof.
Klein has participated in four counter-insurgency campaigns and has the most standard and rich experience in holding strongholds in the Great Crusade era.
"Colonel, the reconnaissance plane reported that no enemy aircraft activity was found in the direction of Hive City." The adjutant ran over and gave a standard military salute, "Those rebels are hiding in the ruins to the east and do not dare to show their faces at all."
Klein put down the telescope, sneered, and spat hard.
"That country bumpkin who took over Hive City? He only has a few broken planes in his hands, and he can only throw inaccurate iron bombs." He patted the thick concrete floor under his feet, "Even if he threw all the bombs above my head, they wouldn't be able to penetrate the thirty-meter-thick rock formation."
"As soon as Octavius Earl's main fleet arrives, we can bulldoze Alpha Hive City. At that time, I will personally chop off that country bumpkin's head and hang it on the bow of the flagship for public display!"
He was completely unaware that the God of Death was already opening his mouth in the clouds above his head.
In the ruins three kilometers west of the refinery.
Old Jack was lying behind a broken water pipe, followed by two young believers also wearing tattered work clothes.
It took them seven hours to get here from the guerrilla zone outside Hive City, bypassing two coalition patrol posts.
Old Jack has spent half his life crawling in the pipes at the bottom of Hive City. In his eyes, the defense lines deployed by the coalition forces on the ground are nothing but sieves.
The refinery in front of us looked like a crouching steel beast in the morning light.
--
Old Jack squinted and watched for a long time. They harassed this stronghold three times and killed seventeen believers. They didn't even rush through the first trench.
The heavy machine guns and mortars of the coalition forces turned the charging road into a slaughterhouse.
"Godfather, is what Intercessor said really reliable?" the young Genestealers believer next to him asked in a low voice, clutching the Laser indicator in his hand like a fire stick, "Can you blow up their headquarters with this broken pen?"
Old Jack said nothing.
He also didn't believe that a Laser pen could be so powerful.
But he believed what Intercessor said.
Master Intercessor gave them food other than Corpse Starch, clothes other than work clothes, and gave these Lower Hive untouchables a dignity and a way of life that they had never had before.
He is the savior of the sect and the messenger sent by Four-Armed Emperor. He said that this thing can work, and old Jack will have to take full advantage of these three minutes even if he puts his life on the line.
He glanced at the old electronic watch on his wrist and saw that the time was up.
Taking a deep breath, old Jack leaned out half of his body and pressed the switch of the Laser indicator.
An infrared beam, completely invisible to the human eye, was accurately nailed on the iron fence of the ventilation opening on the top floor of the refinery - it was the only passage connecting the underground headquarters to the ground, and it was also the most fatal weakness of the entire fortress.
His hands, which he had trained by crawling in pipes for half a lifetime, were as steady as if they were welded to the pipes. The infrared light spots were welded to the vents and did not move at all.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Three minutes.
Nothing happened.
The young believer sighed and his shoulders slumped, "I just said it was unreliable----"
The words have not yet fallen.
There was an extremely weak buzzing sound in the sky, like the beating of bees' wings, so thin that it was almost inaudible.
They both looked up at the same time.
A silver-gray shadow emerged from the clouds, like a swooping falcon, dragging a faint trail and plunging down precisely in the direction of the infrared spot.
The next second.
The earth trembled and the mountains shook.
4.2 tons of Promethium explosives, coupled with the terrifying kinetic energy accumulated from falling from an altitude of 40,000 meters, were instantly released in the sealed underground space.
The shock wave was like an invisible giant hand, lifting up the entire ruins.
The hot air waves were mixed with sand, gravel and concrete fragments, roaring over the broken wall, tearing the steel pipe more than ten centimeters thick into pieces like paper.
Old Jack raised his head and was shocked and stiffened by the sight in front of him.
The impregnable ore refinery, which he had attacked three times but failed to capture, had completely disappeared.
The dome of the refinery was completely overturned from the inside, thousands of tons of concrete fragments and steel frame debris were thrown hundreds of meters into the air, a huge fireball rose into the sky, and a brown-black mushroom cloud slowly rose over the desert.
The underground command headquarters, along with Colonel Klein and the entire regiment, as well as more than a thousand coalition soldiers, were buried directly under tens of meters of gravel, without even having time to utter a scream.
The Laser indicator in old Jack's hand fell to the ground.
He looked at the burning ruins in the distance, and then at the palm-sized plastic pen on the ground. His mouth was open and he didn't close it for a long time.
He is illiterate and does not know what infrared Laser is, what image recognition is, and what gliding guidance is.
But he knew one thing: from today on, it would no longer be safe for the coalition forces to hide behind any iron walls.
He suddenly fell to his knees, facing the direction of Hive City, and knelt down fervently, chanting the sect's prayers in his mouth. His forehead hit the gravel and blood oozed out, without even realizing it.
Alpha Hive City.
On the holographic map, the red heat source signal representing the coalition's 17th Infantry Regiment station has been completely extinguished.
Instead, there was a black cross representing complete destruction.
At the same time, the signals from the other eleven coalition strongholds scattered in the desert were also extinguished one by one.
Twelve bombs, twelve targets, all destroyed accurately.
Not a single MiG-25 was damaged, and not a single soldier was killed or injured.
Twelve bombs cost less than $30,000 each.
On System Panel, the kill record is beating like crazy.
[Kill settlement: coalition infantry × 1487, Leman Russ Tank × 12, Hydra Flak Cannon × 9, Basilisk Self-Propelled Gun × 11, ammunition depot × 2, fuel depot × 1.]
[Universal Points credit: 312500.]
[Additional settlement: The command system of the coalition forces 17th Infantry Regiment is completely paralyzed, and the defense zone has lost the ability to organize resistance.]
[PS: It cost 30,000 US dollars to destroy a full imperial infantry regiment. The cost was so low that Shoigu came to learn from it all night long after seeing it. Octavius should be smashing red wine glasses on the bridge now.]
Priest Kallen looked at the steel barrels, gliders, and steering gear units that were continuously sliding down the conveyor belt, and he was still muttering "blasphemy Omnissiah" and "heretic creations."
But he had already turned to the next page of the production plan in his hand and shouted crazily at the foreman through a mechanical loudspeaker:
Three shifts! 24 hours a day! Before dawn tomorrow, I want to see fifty bombs come off the assembly line!"
Lucifer feels that his outlook on life is a bit shattered.
"Can a weapon made by a monkey also pose such a threat?"
Lucifer In the dusty memory, there seems to be a Orks race that can do such a thing.
Fu Haoran looked at the holographic map and was very satisfied.
The dozens of coalition strongholds scattered around Hive City are being wiped out one by one like gravel scattered in the desert.
Octavius thought that hiding the troops in underground fortifications would be safe, and thought that by driving Destroyer down into the atmosphere, they could regain air superiority.
"There is a way to play even if you are poor."
"Since we can't fight the war of riches, we should take the asymmetric war of the poor to the extreme."
Night falls Alpha Hive City.
Outside the window, twelve MiG-25s slid into the hangar one after another, and the pylons under the belly of the aircraft were empty.
The roar of the production line at the outpost continued all night long.
Fu Haoran leaned on the back of the chair in the command room and looked at the coalition strongholds extinguished one by one on the holographic map. He knew very well: this was just an appetizer.
For Warhammer World, who does not take human life seriously, the death of these people is nothing but a negligible loss.
What the coalition forces lack most is human lives.