Counterfeit Hero

In terms of confrontation, Barbara, who wishes to use the technology and production of the Twelfth Generation Mecha to demonstrate goodwill to various countries, has already completely failed.

No matter how ruthless this woman, who at twenty-five subdued and suppressed the interest groups behind Leefer overnight, might be, she has no way to employ any other means here. This is not secret struggle; there’s no need for kidnapping, intimidation, threats, or bribery, no use for the Thirty-Six Stratagems or The Art of War by Sun Tzu. Here, strength is everything. The generals from various countries at the scene are here to see one thing: strength!

And the technical strength of the bandit army has obviously surpassed everyone’s imagination.

Meteor Company and Fulong Sword Company, the public defection of these two major companies, also signifies a reshuffle of the future arms market, meaning if one wants to obtain the Twelfth Generation Mecha, they must look to the bandit army!

Everyone knows that Kedun, intolerably beaten in his professional field, is making a hysterical final attempt. However, judging from the recent engine testing method, Kedun’s doubts are not entirely groundless. To prove the bandit army’s strength without revealing engine secrets, this final indicator seems to be the best method.

However, a two hundred percent survival rate is simply impossible. Everyone present watched Fatty; even if Fatty simply said he had pointed incorrectly just now, everyone would accept it.

"Idiot!" Fatty glanced sideways at Kedun, checked the time: "I have a date at noon, just a few minutes left, are you sure you really want to know?"

"I do," Kedun gritted his teeth: "Whatever you’ve got, just show it!"

"Does Miss Barbara want to see?" Fatty suddenly seemed to remember such a person, turned his head, and asked Barbara with a nonchalant smile.

Barbara’s face turned iron pale.

She knew the most appropriate thing to do at this moment was to turn around and leave.

However, the temptation to know Hastings and the bandit army’s trump card allowed her to accept all failure and humiliation.

She smiled coldly and nodded gracefully.

"Markovich." Fatty looked into Barbara’s eyes, slightly curling his lips.

The crowd’s gaze quickly turned to the experimental hall.

With a soft sound, the outer shell of the Ranger cracked open, and a mecha no more than two meters high, like a black sprite, suddenly ejected. Like lightning, it darted straight towards the Thunderbolt parked in the center of the experimental hall. A swift clash of metal erupted, and before the Mechanical Warrior driving the Thunderbolt could react, the Thunderbolt’s mechanical leg was severed, crashing to the ground.

The black Miniature Mecha stood silently by the side.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

No one knows how long it took, but Robinson wiped the sweat from his forehead and suddenly felt his legs go weak.

This was a gamble; he had invested everything, no time to hesitate, not even time to think. When the dice of fate finally stopped at this moment, an indescribable ecstasy struck his heart fiercely.

In front of him, hundreds of scientists and generals from various countries, in unbelievable delight, frantically rushed out of the observation room hall, dashing through the corridor towards the trial hall below.

Who doesn’t understand what the Miniature Mecha means for the Thunderbolt, what it means for every Mechanical Warrior in this war!

Under the envious and respectful gaze of Professor Ruteler and another high-ranking official of Meteor Company, Robinson clenched his fist tightly.

Rather than saying those were generals throwing away decorum, it’s more accurate to say they were huge orders!

Turning back, the faces of Barbara and high-ranking officials from several other super arms dealers were already pale.

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