Chandler scratched his head awkwardly; of course he'd heard of the competition.
For the past two weeks, whether it's the Mekboy youngsters or the ordinary ones under his command, all they talk about is that Squig racing game.
Even at the entrance of its closed laboratory, some kids secretly put up competition posters.
It had originally intended to order a complete ban on this ridiculous competition.
But on that day, the guards at the door tremblingly handed over ten boxes.
One part consisted of 500,000 high-quality teeth donated by the Hokage Clan, and the other part consisted of 100,000 teeth donated by the leaders under its control who had invested in the business.
It was said to be a "tribute" to it.
Chandler picked up a handful of teeth, examined them, and swallowed back the prohibition that was on the tip of his tongue.
It thought of the gleaming teeth in the box, then glanced at the calm-faced Sith, and finally let out a cold snort.
"Starting today, all the guys on the front lines will take turns watching the games! Anyone who dares to leave their post during working hours will be thrown to feed the Squig!"
It thought for a moment, then added, "Besides, the kids are really into that competition, so let them watch it if they want, haha."
Subsequently, Chandler handed over most of the command of Carl II to the Sith and instructed it to guard Carl II well.
Sith looked at it strangely, but still accepted the order.
Chandler returned to the lab grumbling and continued to delve into its Mecha Cache, leaving the mess at the front lines entirely to the Sith.
When the news reached Hokage Ranch, Toothy sigh of relief.
"Luckily, only one base station was lost. Those guys are insane!"
Lynn leaned back in her chair and didn't reply.
Because this was an outcome he could have predicted; even if Chandler hadn't intervened, Luna wouldn't have had a chance.
During this time, he used the name waaaagh GP to get acquainted with the big shots of various clans.
I learned quite a few secrets about Dorito Orks.
The waters surrounding the Carl II were far deeper than he had imagined.
Iron Claw Chandler was the strongest Warboss under Big Stomach Ragnar, and a rare Mekboy war boss among the Orks.
His men are well-equipped and control Dorito % of the war machines in Dorido.
Moreover, everyone knows that it has its eyes on Ragnar's warboss position and is the biggest thorn in Ragnar's side.
But Chandler was quite capable, so killing him would be a real shame.
This is why Ragnar assigned him to the strategic location of Carl II, but didn't give him much of a base for expansion.
Even so, Chandler still managed to transform the entire Carl II into Attack Moon through his own abilities.
So, not entirely at ease, Ragnar sent the unfathomably powerful Giant-Foot Sith to monitor Chandler.
Nominally a second-in-command, he was in reality a sword hanging over Chandler's head.
An ambitious Mekboy leader, and a military supervisor who wields Psychic Power and is loyal only to the supreme leader.
The conflict between the two has long been buried deep and unfathomable.
Luna's crushing defeat only solidified his judgment.
A direct assault on Carl II would only repeat the same mistakes.
The Orks Waaagh! Field grows stronger as the battle progresses.
What doesn't kill them only makes them stronger.
But now, Lynn believes he has found the key to unlock Carl II.
It wasn't the fleet's Macro-cannon and light spears, nor the Zerg's claws, but rather Orks Orks' own ingrained ambition, suspicion, and strife.
A cold glint flashed in Lynn's purple eyes.
The colossal creation Carl II has never been so restless as it is now.
The heavy Waaagh Field, like a pot of boiling broth, bathed the entire space station in a frenzied green light.
On a small space station separate from Carl II, the Mekboy forged a massive archway out of steel.
Several imposing characters are written at the top of the archway.
The First Elf Gork Rally!
Next is an ultra-long track that connects more than a dozen space base stations.
Millions of Orks filled the stands on both sides of the track; what were called stands were actually just piles of discarded armor plates.
The Orks roared, stepping on the shoulders of their own kind; their rough battle cries coalesced into a deafening roar.
The air was thick with the lingering stench of sweat, the sour smell of fermenting mushrooms, and the distinctive fishy odor of Squig.
This is the largest and most widespread nationwide event that Carl II has witnessed since it was taken over by the Orks.
More than two-thirds of the Orks have their eyes on this rally.
After the starting line, hundreds of contestants had already lined up.
According to the competition rules, each established clan in Carl II can have a maximum of ten participants.
The Bad Moons Clan's riders rode heavily armored Cave Squig Squig gold and covered in cannon barrels and armor plates.
The young men of the Evil Sunz Clan rode identically on bright red, explosive Squig, lightly armed, their eyes burning with an unparalleled desire for speed.
The Deathskulls Clan's riders rode on Squig ridden with " Waaagh! " technological equipment tinkered up by the Mekboy youngsters, their eyes brimming with confidence.
Besides the racers who were backed by their clans, a special group of participants were also crammed into the very edge of the track.
Individual contestant.
They lacked the resources of a clan and the logistical support of Mekboy team.
The reason they were able to fight their way from the preliminary rounds to the main competition was entirely due to their innate pursuit of speed, as well as the teeth and equipment put together by fans all over the Carl II.
This is why almost all of these individual players are household names and star players on Carl II.
For example, Gretchin Johnny fart-faced guy is standing on the back of a bouncy Squig, waving wildly at the stands.
It is also the only Gretchin to stand on the Elf Gawk stage.
On the main control panel at the highest point of the starting arch, Lynn was looking down at the holographic track map in his hand.
As the initiator and organizer of this Elf Gork Rally, his mood at this moment was far from calm as it appeared on the surface.
The holographic map clearly displays the key data of this event.
The racecourse is 512 kilometers long and starts from the first base station.
The journey traverses various simulated environments, including typical deserts, canyons, underground caves, and abandoned human colonies.
The terrain is so complex that it would make even the most experienced players' scalps tingle.
Furthermore, the entire track is divided into hundreds of special sections, containing dozens of branch routes to choose from.
There are also several exclusive death stages unique to Elf Gawk.
Mushroom minefields that can instantly send Squig and the contestants flying into the air, and meteorite drift zones filled with flying rocks.
A Warp journey that can plunge you into a wondrous illusion, and the Thunderstorm Canyon that's bombarded 24/7, and more.
This has never been a simple contest of speed and fighting ability.
The athletes' skill level, the logistical support team's ability to provide support, and the judgment and selection of routes are all indispensable.
Moreover, the vast majority of the participants, including Squig, had run more than 100 kilometers without stopping.
This can lead to muscle strain, physical exhaustion, and a decline in performance.
To maintain peak performance throughout the 512-kilometer race, you need to prepare at least five Squig for rotation.
We also need to set up supply points along the way and be constantly on guard against enemy attacks.
After all, this is Orks competition, and the so-called rules are practically no rules.
The only criterion for victory is that the athlete and its Squig cross the finish line at the same time.
As for whether you blew up your opponent's Squig, stole their supplies, or planted landmines all over the track, that's another story.
Even if you blast your opponent and Squig into dust, no one will care.
The audience will also cheer wildly for this kind of "waaaagh" move.