Counterfeit Hero

The eyes of the confidential secretary beside him suddenly lit up.

That’s right, the bandit army! There’s still the bandit army! The unit led by Leray Hero Tian Xingjian. This unit that, half a year ago, was just a militia in everyone’s eyes, a mixed army, now stands on equal footing with the Fei Alliance as allies, a special-level troop fully supported by Military God Hastings, possessing eight A-level fleets and the entirety of Mars!

Although, compared to any country, the bandit army’s strength is insignificant. But, for Leray at this moment, they are the last straw to clutch at.

As long as a telegram from the President is sent, they will return. The closest bandit army fleet is in the Longbow Star System, under Admiral Russell’s leadership.

"No!" Flavio’s voice interrupted the secretary’s fantasy.

As if drenched by a cup of ice water, the secretary stared blankly at his President. Not understanding why, at this juncture, he wouldn’t recall the bandit army. That’s Leray’s unit, why let them help others fight even as Leray’s last territory is on the brink of falling?!

The flying car silently sped along the highway.

Staring blankly at Flavio, the confidential secretary suddenly saw a trace of struggle, a kind of pain, in the eyes of the elder he faced every day.

"I cannot recall them," Flavio clutched the wine glass tightly in his hand, swallowing with difficulty, his gaze fixed on Markey’s face, his voice hoarse.

"Why...... we are already....."

"Do you remember a few months ago?" Flavio interrupted Markey, "Our situation wasn’t much better than it is now."

Markey opened his mouth but said nothing.

From being the commander of the Newton Local Fleet to now being the commander-in-chief of the Leray Space Navy, how could he not remember everything that happened over the past few months? Every battle plan was personally formulated by him. The days he spent at the Newton Jump Point were far more than those in Gallipalan!

Being able to persevere until now, he himself doesn’t know how he managed it.....

"But we have held on until now, why...." Flavio gritted his teeth, "Previously, Fiscella controlled the Allies’ command in the Southeast Battle Zone, he chose to fight passively, retreat to the Galileo Star System, and even leave Leray, and we could do nothing about him. But now, Chuckna, Tatania, and Puditok fleets, originally supposed to follow his command, are instead helping us defend the Newton Jump Point, why is that?"

Before Markey could respond, Flavio gave the answer himself, his fist violently struck his knee: "Because we still have the bandit army out there, led by Admiral Russell, Admiral Bernadotte, Admiral Tian Xingjian, wielding the last power of our Leray, still maintaining a voice among the Allies!"

Inside the flying car, silence prevailed.

After a long time, Flavio exhaled deeply, speaking slowly: "This was President Hamilton’s choice, Admiral Mihailovich’s choice, and the path chosen by all of us together. Fatty has done well, I cannot hinder him at this moment. If the bandit army is a sharp blade now, then they need a hard and thick hilt. Chuckna is this hilt, and perhaps soon it will include Marshal Hastings. This situation was something we could never have imagined a year ago."

He gazed out of the window, his voice distant and gentle: "Only by winning the Resk Battle can Leray truly achieve freedom. Recalling them now equates to killing the goose that lays the golden egg. No one knows what the future holds. Having come this far, we must continue. If the Jump Point falls, we still have the Army, we can still fight on the earth. I will remain here.....even unto death."

The flying car, silent and motionless.

The constantly flashing streetlight glows through the window, cascading onto the side of Flavio.

Markey quietly watched the determined President. Silently heaved a sigh.

As Leray soldiers of this era, are we still afraid of death?! Only, in the end, I could not hold the Newton Jump Point. Even dying on the battlefield without retreating a step, that is my shame.

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Building No. 6 in the Comprehensive Base Zone is a high-end intelligent building, spiral-shaped.

Silver-white metallic components, elegantly bullet-shaped floating elevators, broad lighting design, and omnipresent intelligent management and service systems, all endowed the building with distinctly contemporary architectural features. However, when people step out of the elevator on the twenty-third floor, their impressions of the building suddenly take a complete turn.

Occupying the entire twenty-third floor is a military officer’s bar.

The bar is quaintly styled, with extensive use of wood decorations and fabrics, embodying the ambiance of an eighteenth-century Ancient Earth countryside tavern. Here, one easily feels a regression in time. The tavern owner’s deliberate exclusion of all modern elements invites a kind of indulgence, carried forward from cold weapon warfare, attracting a significant number of officers.

Although it wasn’t yet five in the afternoon, the tavern was already crowded.

On the stage, a female singer, having just completed her performance, was smiling and chatting with an officer who had his arm around her waist, while members of the band beside her tweaked their guitar strings or drank beer heartily. Dapper officers leisurely paced around the tavern, exchanging flirtatious glances with pretty waitresses passing by.