Counterfeit Hero

"It’s hard to believe that a Leray Lieutenant General could wield such power." Leefer closed the electronic folder in his hand, casually tossed it onto the desk, and stood up.

The elegantly smooth marble floor resounded with his firm and solitary footsteps. Gambier raised his head, his gaze following the wooden wall panels and classical reliefs of the oval office, looking forward.

In front of the bright arched floor-to-ceiling glass window, the light slightly dimmed. In the sunlight streaming in, Leefer’s tall and slender figure cast a long shadow on the floor. Outside the window, the endless blue sea stretched as far as the eye could see, where countless white freshwater gulls freely soared. The waves crashed against the cliff-bottom rocks, churning foamy white and roaring.

"This is obviously the power held by our Lord Military God." Gambier slightly raised his head, his lightly stubbly chin adding a touch of unruly masculinity to his handsome and suave demeanor.

"Lord Military God..." Leefer shook his head, looking out the window, "You’re wrong."

"Hmm?" Gambier stood up from the sofa, the virtual light screen floating above the central circular computer in the office casting a gloomy blue tint on his face.

"You mean this isn’t Hastings’ leverage?"

"If it were so easy to force out the Marshal’s leverage, why would I be so cautious, treading on thin ice?" Leefer turned back, the sunlight casting on his sickly pale face, making the smile on his lips seem eerie.

"Since the war broke out, apart from occasionally nodding during military meetings or deploying grand strategies, have you ever seen him really make a move?" Leefer’s gaze shifted to one side of the office wall, where a giant oil painting of Hastings quietly hung. The elderly man, thin and frail, sat in a wheelchair, his eyes as deep as the ocean.

"To him, the entire world is nothing but a chessboard. Even though Sobel is aggressive, he still can’t force him to act; how could a small figure like me, under his control, possibly do so?"

Gambier cast his gaze toward Hastings’ giant oil painting. He never understood why Leefer always had Hastings’ portrait hanging in his office.

"Our Lord Military God is most accustomed to and adept at leveraging power. Like a snowball, starting off small, rolling downwards until it becomes massive and unstoppable. However, instead of a snowball, he rolls fate itself. The Southeast War Situation, Ryan War Situation, Karsdon Star River War Situation... he just watches from the side to see who deviates or moves too slowly, then nudges them with his hand." Leefer’s voice echoed in the spacious office. The high circular dome made his voice clear and cold.

Gambier remained silent.

As Leefer’s right-hand man, he naturally knew of Leefer’s apprehension toward Hastings.

Hastings dominated the Feiyang Military for thirty years, and his loyal subordinates and personally taught students spread throughout the Feiyang Military. The military power he holds can only be described as deeply rooted and unfathomable.

Yet, since the war broke out, whether facing the aggressive Sobel or the now openly conflicted Leefer Legion, Hastings has remained calm as if nothing happened. War is fought as it should be; everything is dictated by the Feiyang Army, planning, dispatching troops, logistical support, even in grand strategies, he listens more than he speaks.

Rather than being the Feiyang’s Military God, he seems more like a retired, ordinary old man, with even the overt forces in his grasp being scarcely managed.

Yet this tranquil elder gives Gambier a feeling akin to a Mount Tai suspended overhead, uncertain of when it might fall, or like the dark and deep ocean trench beneath the calm sea, unknown in depth.

The strength of the Leefer Legion is undeniable. Gambier has always been proud of this group.

Whether it’s the troops led by Leefer himself or the economic and political forces behind it, they would instill awe in any country or opponent. But in front of this unassuming old man, such power only makes one feel weak and uneasy.

The calmer Hastings is, the stronger the oppressive force he exudes. So powerful, it suffocates!

In Feiyang, who is Hastings’ most steadfast ally?

Which troops will become the most terrifying enemies at the crucial moment?

In politics, the military, and economics, how vast and resilient is that intricate web?

No one knows.

What Gambier does know is that three hundred of the most steadfast mid-level officers of the Leefer Legion were arrested overnight, and it was the little girl they didn’t take seriously, along with McKinley, already marked by Hastings, who made the move. This punch struck despite Leefer Legion’s defenses.

What about the surprises, the suddenly emerging punches—the bandit army!

The 31st Army was expelled from the Southeast Battle Zone, leaving a tarnished reputation, and the major super arms dealers who funded and powered them were expelled from the Thunderbolt Mecha manufacturing system—all the work of the bandit army.

Gambier once thought this was the result of Hastings acting, finding solace in the defeat. At least Hastings had acted, at least he had revealed some of his cards.

Yet who could imagine, Hastings still hadn’t made a move; he merely gave a gentle push.

So, what uncertainties will the long-planned face? If Hastings were to act personally, would this group reach the pinnacle of Feiyang, or fall into hell?!

Gambier suddenly felt suffocated. At this moment, this group had no way out.

"You will personally be in charge of that matter," said Leefer, standing by the window, his figure already dimming in the black clouds drifting in outside the window, "Assist Barbara, and ensure nothing can go wrong."

"Yes!" Gambier accepted the command sternly.

"Also, send the order for all officers above a regiment level to immediately come to the Headquarters for a meeting," Leefer coldly looked out of the window, at a freshwater gull soaring straight into the dark clouds, muttering to himself: "In war, there is no destiny. If there is, I will use my artillery to tear it apart!"

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Putting on his dust-proof research suit and walking into the laboratory, Fatty felt his mood lighten.

The experiment hall, hidden underground, was rectangular, and from the three-meter-high platform in front of the automatic door, its end was out of sight. Compared to the Mecha assembly workshop of the Fulong Sword Company, it was not much smaller. The white shadowless lights covered the entire ceiling, illuminating the space brightly. Hundreds of researchers were busy in front of the various dazzling experimental instruments and colorful computer screens.

Such a scene made him feel as if he was back to the days three years ago in the Gallipalan Military Laboratory, separated from the war.

Walking down the stairs on one side to the dust-proof area, Fatty nodded at the Leray researchers who approached him with faces full of surprise, while solemnly and seriously following behind Milan, heading to the corridor on the left side of the hall.

The whispers behind him, footsteps, and electronic sounds were isolated by the heavy automatic door. On both sides of the long corridor, in one transparent laboratory after another, there were dozens of senior researchers working at their desks.

After passing through another automatic door, they finally entered Milan’s laboratory.

As soon as the automatic door closed, Fatty’s sneaky eyes landed on Milan’s round buttocks. The white medium-length research suit wrapped around Milan’s buttocks, with the fabric pulling out slight creases as Milan’s waist gently swayed while walking, yet at that round place, it was tightly stretched like a white jade sculpted bun.

Thinking of the tender and smoother buttocks beneath the white research suit, Fatty felt waves of desire rising.

"You dead Fatty!" Knowing that Fatty was secretly watching her buttocks, Milan’s face was already flushed, her eyes seductive. At the height of their passionate and intimate relationship, as soon as the automatic door closed, and with only the two of them left in the lab, the girl immediately jumped into Fatty’s arms like a koala, twisting Fatty’s ear while giving him a solid kiss on the lips.

This kiss was dizzying and disorienting.

Clang, a strength detector on the experimental table was swept to the ground. Then, a bunch of documents were flicked by hand, turning into fluttering snowflakes.

A delicate and soft body lay on the testing table. Amidst the gasps and moans, the white research suit opened, turning into a white bedsheet. A light blue cashmere sweater, a pink shirt with a lace collar, black stockings... Each piece of clothing with an alluring scent met the same fate as the desk’s documents and tools, scattering everywhere.

Her hair was disheveled, her snow-white thighs slightly raised, and with a series of soft gasps, the lab was filled with an endless scene of springtime.

"You lecher..."

Wearing just a shirt, Milan leaned against the rail of the mobile repair station. Her two long and snow-white beautiful legs, bare feet, and the empty collar of the shirt trembling with her heaving bosom framed an enchanting picture full of allure amidst purity.

She bit her lip and glanced at Fatty sideways, "Shameless, whenever you see me, you only think of doing this kind of thing."

What a wrongful accusation, you were the one who pounced on me first.

Fatty smiled with a grievance on his face. Seeing his aggrieved smile, Milan gritted her teeth and reached over to twist him all over, "Dead Fatty, why are you laughing? What do you mean!"

The robotic arm connected to the repair station moved slowly.

In the center of the massive repair station, a black metal frame quietly stood. Hundreds of parts were scattered on the surrounding racks.

Hugging Milan and giving her a kiss on the face, Fatty’s eyes sparkled as he looked at the familiar metal frame.

[Logic].

After a year of separation, this faithful partner would be reborn here.

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.(To be continued, if you want to know what happens next, please log on to www.qidian.com, with more Chapters, support the author, support genuine reading!)