Sky-cracking Rider

Chen Fei really wanted to smash that crazy Big Bear into a half-paralyzed state with his own technical manual.

But then he thought that if he ended up seriously injuring the opposite party, figuring out who would fly this aircraft next would become a big problem.

Moreover, he was deep in debt and had no choice but to sign an indenture contract. He couldn't afford to compensate even for the aircraft's wheel, let alone the whole plane.

"'Peanut Butter,' what are you guys up to? Wait, where's 'Lemongrass'? Who's that behind you?"

A "Big Mouth Monster" drew close, taking its position as the wingman on the left side and maintained a formation flying stance. The short-haired girl in the front seat and the pilot in the back seat were both staring dumbfounded at the recently stabilized aircraft number 211, something clearly off behind the cockpit canopy.

The person in the back seat of 211 seemed to have changed. It wasn't the talkative Lemongrass Basong.

"Currently at an altitude of 7500 meters, the weather is clear, I am Squadron Leader 'Peanut Butter.' Now, I have good news and bad news. First the bad news, my partner 'Lemongrass' has died. The good news is, I've found a new fire control operator. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your new teammate, codename 'Rookie'. Let's give a round of applause!"

This Major Squadron Leader, the Big Bear, started clapping inside the cockpit all by himself, shameless to the core.

How shamelessly disgusting!

"Fine, you're the boss, whatever you say is right. Welcome, Rookie," said the short-haired girl "Devil Pepper" Irinei Rusios, helplessly.

The Squadron Leader Major Chekhov might be eccentric, but she couldn't be; otherwise, the whole "Genuine Fragrance" squadron would indeed be in complete disarray.

Clearly, Chen Fei, the newcomer, was a genuine, no-doubt about it, Rookie; the nickname suited him well.

"I'm 'Nutmeg' Salaman Francis, welcome."

The fire control operator, "Devil Pepper's" "Nutmeg," quickly followed up. It wasn't the right moment to contradict the squadron leader.

"Rookie... Okay! Welcome aboard, poor Basong."

"I'm 'Fragrant Orchid' Carlos Silva Lane, and this is my partner 'Oyster Sauce' Dalatu. Rookie, good luck."

"We've been waiting for you for a long time, Rookie. I'm 'Braised Sauce' Jack Brown, and I love braised pork. Braised pork is not a person's name; it's the name of a dish."

...

The members of the "Genuine Fragrance" squadron all welcomed the newly joined little brother enthusiastically.

Suddenly hearing that these pilots' code names included not just Peanut Butter but also Devil Pepper, Nutmeg, Oyster Sauce, Dragon Artemisia, Miso, and Braised Sauce, among other seasonings, a Rookie unexpectedly popped up.

Upon deeper thought, Chen Fei was terrified and suddenly panicked, thinking, you guys are definitely just waiting to stew this newbie, aren't you?

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"Chekhov, when you come back, I'm going to strip you of your command!!!"

The angry roar of Morris Morgan, the executive manager of the 911 Aircrew Base, echoed through the communication channel.

When the underground air-defense facility's second backup command center received the messy noise and flight data from aircraft 211, everyone looked at each other in dismay.

They were in the midst of battle, not the time for jokes. Dragging a newbie who hadn't even been there for 24 hours to temporarily act as a fire control operator and still being so reckless, even if you don't take your own life seriously, you should at least consider others, right?

"Hahaha, Morris, then you'll have to wait for me to come back alive. 'Genuine Fragrance' squadron, target the Metallic Dragons, two-aircraft teams follow the number, three-stage attack, begin!"

Chekhov Leonidovich Ivanov, completely unconcerned, turned his head and patted the back of his seat with his left hand, saying, "Rookie, now use your onboard computer to start programming. Activate two Short-range Combat Missiles and a 'Dragon Slayer Missile'. Don't just focus on one side, pay attention to symmetry on both wings, then follow my commands!"

Chen Fei stepped on an Erguotou liquor bottle, tucked the technical manual under the safety belt, and, frowning, dared not let go of the control stick as he relied solely on his memory to switch on the missile activation.

He completely failed to notice that the control of the "Big Mouth Monster" had been taken back by Big Bear once again; he thought he was in control, just like playing a computer game where the computer and mouse have the same authority.

"212 in position, 11 kilometers from the target, altitude 2000 meters, attack to commence in one minute."

When it was time to execute the combat plan, the short-haired girl "Devil Pepper" Irinei Rusios quickly got her emotions in check; after all, the mission at hand was the most important thing.

"213 in position!"

The lead pilot of the second squadron was Carlos Silva Lane, codenamed "Fragrant Orchid," and his compatriot was the chief chef in the canteen who could cook high-end dishes.

"214 in position!"

"215 in position!"

"216 in position!"

"Radar group has locked on the target, data link check complete."

The six A-39B "Big Mouth Monster" light turboprop attack aircraft formed into three two-aircraft teams, spaced about 1000 meters apart from each other, began to dive toward the intense dogfight zone.

"Everyone, watch out, the 'Genuine Fragrance' squadron is about to make a big move. 'Rookie,' first send a Combat Bomb to greet that big guy, fox1, watch for evasion!"

Big Bear barked through the intercom and pushed the control stick forward.

A gargantuan figure appeared within the HUD's crosshairs, its flamboyantly sharp wings flapping continuously, with dazzling flames flickering between the edges. Occasionally, streaks of wingtip vortices seemed to cut through the clouds, as if riding the winds.

With every beat of the Blade Wings, sporadically, one or several Dragon Spikes, whose range rivaled that of heavy artillery, were fired, posing a lethal threat to the fighter jets. Once hit, there was no escape, not even an ejection could be hoped for.

"'Genuine Fragrance' squadron, be careful, this creature has already taken down five of our brothers!"

"This time, we must kill it!"

"I am 'Coyote' from Aircrew Base 909, with one 'Dragon Slayer Missile' left if you need it."

The encrypted public communication channel based on the unified standard data link immediately received calls from several other fighter jets.

Thus far, the pilots had only managed to hold back the frenzied Metallic Dragon, waiting for the arrival of other reinforcements, as their own ammunition was already running low.

"Roar!~"

Suddenly, a dazzling green light beam, unmatchably piercing, shot out from the forehead of the dragon's head, cutting straight through the sky.

An aircraft, unlike the A-39B "Big Mouth Monster" with its propeller design, inadvertently crossed the beam's path, instantly losing a large chunk of its wingtip. Tiny fragments scattered, bursting into flames and smoke.

With its aerodynamic balance compromised, the propeller aircraft gradually spiraled out of control. Despite the pilot's best efforts to steer, it careened towards the ground, possibly considering an ejection.

However, the Metallic Dragon did not intend to let it go. Behind its Blade Wings, a burst of light flared, and its speed surged dramatically, catching up in the blink of an eye. It opened its fanged mouth wide, snapping shut… Countless fragments scattered towards the ground.

Utterly savage!

"Trash, trash, all trash! Die, all of you die!"

The dragon's furious roar shook the area for miles, and was clearly audible even through the cockpit canopy. Nowadays, aircraft are mostly made from non-metallic composite materials, and the Metal-eating Metallic Dragon certainly wasn't pleased, it was like biting into a meat pie filled with gravel—hard to swallow.

The most perfect biological combat weapon in the world, truly a Dragon of Slaughter.

Chekhov Leonidovich Ivanov silently admired it from the depths of his heart. Despite being an enemy target, admiration was admiration, but he would certainly not show mercy.

The several fighter jets engaging the Metallic Dragon spread out, with NATO's code "fox" standing by to launch missiles. "Fox1" signaled the guided mode of a programmable Combat Missile, adjusted for airborne radar guidance and data link assistance.

The dragon's radar signal feedback was exceptionally strong, like a Heavenly Light Column piercing the night, but that alone did not mean the other fighter jets had no radar feedback, and friendly fire was still a fear, even with foe/friend signal recognition.

"Beep!"

The airborne radar locked on the target, the aircraft slightly shuddered, and a white missile detached from its left-wing mount, dropping three to four meters before its tail fiercely ignited a flame, roaring out with thick white smoke.

The Metallic Dragon, having just shredded a propeller aircraft, looked up just in time to face the sudden missile, which struck it squarely.

Two missiles, one after the other, Double-Blows!

In the next second, two more missiles whooshed from behind Aircraft 211, plunging into the depths of the just-exploded fire cloud.

Four-Hit-Combos!

Then came two more!

The fireball swelled intensely, eventually completely engulfing the massive dragon's body.

A crazed Six-Hit-Combos!

The moment the "Genuine Fragrance" Combat Flight Squadron appeared, they executed a perfect three-stage attack technique.

Such intense focus fire was not even necessary for tank battles, but the squadron's six "Big Mouth Monsters" treated the Metallic Dragon as though it were a Battleship, and a supersonic one at that, capable of flight.

Of all the things that flew in the sky, apart from meteors, there was nothing as tough as those dragons; their existence was simply unscientific.

"'Dragon Slayer Missile' ready, hold steady, everyone else disengage!"

Squadron Leader Chekhov shouted loudly.

In offensive operations, there was seldom a second chance.

The aircraft, fragile and tender, could hardly withstand damage. In close combat, outcomes of life and death were often decided within a few moments.

"'Dragon Slayer Missile,' launch!"

Chen Fei heard the voice of a girl with short hair beside him; she couldn't wait to fire as a courtesy.

A missile trailing light blue smoke burst out like lightning.

The ground-based radar's guidance signal firmly locked onto the distant Metallic Dragon.

No escape!

Slay-The-Dragon!

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