The Central Plains were in an uproar.
People of the various races bent over, hauling Demon Clan Corpses.
Over in the logistics area of the Great Xia base, the smell of engine oil filled the air.
Armored Vehicles formed a long line.
The logistics soldiers were drenched in sweat as they removed armor plates.
Clang!
A soldier covered in grease slammed his wrench onto the ground.
"This damn cannon barrel's warped from the heat! We might as well scrap it." He wiped away his sweat.
"Hurry up and replace it with a spare. Stop dawdling." The squad leader walked over and kicked him.
"Squad leader, we're almost out of spare parts." The soldier looked miserable.
Holding his documents, Zhao Gang inspected things along the way.
He looked at the mountain of scrapped parts.
Zhao Gang sucked air through his teeth in distress.
"That's all money." Zhao Gang sighed, shaking his head with a rueful smile.
The staff officer handling the tally beside him hurriedly handed over a Tablet Computer.
"Commander Zhao, take a look at this damage report."
"Nearly half our equipment is ready for the scrap heap."
"And the other half needs a major overhaul. This..."
Zhao Gang glanced at the numbers on the screen, closed his eyes with a long sigh, unable to bear the sight, and finally waved his hand.
"Repair it!"
"Anything we can hammer back into working order, fix it all."
The staff officer scratched his head.
"Even after repairs, performance will drop, and it won't have much service life left. Our own people won't get much use out of it."
Zhao Gang said unconcernedly,
"That's fine. Worst case, we slap on some fresh paint later and sell it to those natives outside."
The staff officer froze, his mouth falling open.
"Would they want this