bookrandom Chapter 907 Breaking Army Armor!
Chapter 907 Breaking Army Armor!
The wild laughter on the dock drifted away with the sea breeze, and the air still held the smell of gunpowder and burnt steel.
Castro released his arms from Fang Yu's embrace, his face still streaked with tears of excitement and joy. He looked at Fang Yu as if he were a god descended to earth.
Guevara stepped forward and solemnly handed the military terminal, which he had carefully wiped clean, back to Fang Yu. His movements were meticulous, as if he were returning an irreplaceable artifact.
He raised his head, his eyes no longer showing any scrutiny or vigilance, but only a burning, almost scorching seriousness.
"Dean Fang, I have only one question," Guevara's voice was hoarse with suppressed excitement, "such a weapon, its production line... can we really... possess it?"
The moment Castro and Allende were still immersed in joy, they fell silent and their eyes turned to Fang Yu.
His facial expression remained unchanged.
“Of course,” he replied, his tone as casual as if he were saying, “The weather is nice today,” as if transferring a weapons production line that could revolutionize the world’s naval landscape was a trivial matter. “The core of the ‘Spark’ program is to ‘teach a man to fish.’ Our goal is to help you build your own complete defense industrial system, not just sell you a few weapons.”
Having received an affirmative answer, Guevara's tense body visibly relaxed. He took a step back and nodded deeply to Fang Yu, a thousand words condensed in that simple gesture.
"Thank you... thank you..." Castro murmured to himself, no longer knowing what else to say besides "thank you" to express his feelings at that moment.
"No need to thank me yet," Fang Yu waved his hand, interrupting their thanks. "I think you don't want to miss the rest of the program. After all, now that the problems at sea have been solved, we need to find a way to deal with the troubles on land as well."
He turned and walked to the black "Hongqi-Wendao" SUV that was already waiting nearby, and opened the car door for them.
This time, the convoy left the coastline and headed deep inland. The scenery along the way gradually changed from the azure sea and lush green belts to dry yellow earth and rolling barren mountains. The vehicles traveled on a straight military highway, with tall barbed wire fences on both sides, and heavily guarded sentry posts and automated patrol robots could be seen at regular intervals.
Finally, the convoy stopped in front of a vast basin surrounded by mountains. This was the most secret integrated combat testing base of the Chinese Army. Unlike the damp freshness of the seaside, the air here was filled with a mixture of dust, gunpowder, and engine oil. In the distance, muffled explosions could be heard—routine tests were taking place at the firing range.
Fang Yu led the three of them out of the car and to the edge of a huge, circular testing ground that resembled an open-air stadium.
In the very center of the venue, there stood something all alone.
It was a humanoid machine, roughly two and a half meters tall, painted in a mottled jungle camouflage pattern of dark green, brown, and black. Unlike the sleek, aesthetically pleasing mechs of science fiction movies, it appeared rather rugged and even clumsy. Between the thick armor plates were clearly visible hydraulic lines and cable bundles, encased in armor sheaths. The joints of its robust limbs were intricate bionic mechanical structures, their surfaces bearing the wear and tear of frequent use. Its head was merely a smooth, T-shaped array of sensors devoid of facial features; the thickest armor was on its chest, bearing a barely noticeable red five-pointed star.
Castro, Guevara, and Allende stopped in their tracks.
The enthusiasm that had just been ignited by the "Mysterious Whale" seemed to cool down quickly in this dry wind.
Castro's smile froze for a moment. He habitually took out a cigar from his pocket, but did not light it. He simply held it to his nose and sniffed it, his gaze never leaving the strange "tin man."
Guevara frowned. As a seasoned guerrilla tactician, he immediately began to assess the machine's practicality. It was too tall; in the jungle, it would be a sitting duck. It looked cumbersome; could it move freely in the muddy rainforest? What powered it? Where were its weapons?
Allende adjusted his glasses, his gaze behind the lenses filled with academic bewilderment. In his view, the object seemed more symbolic than practically useful; perhaps it was some kind of morale-boosting "mascot" used in military parades?
None of the three spoke, but the silent exchange of glances between them betrayed their inner thoughts: disappointment, or rather, confusion.
Fang Yu seemed oblivious to their changing emotions. He simply stood there calmly, waiting for them to observe him for a long time before slowly speaking.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He didn’t look at them, his gaze fixed on the machine. “You’re thinking, why don’t I show you our latest main battle tanks, or the ‘Dongfeng’ rocket launchers that can cover the entire battlefield, instead of bringing you this… somewhat incongruous lump of iron.”
His directness made the three of them a little awkward. Castro coughed, as if he wanted to say something.
“Comrade Castro,” Fang Yu turned to him, “I ask you, if I gave you a T-54 tank company in the Sierra Maestra mountains of Cuba, what would you do with it?”
Castro paused for a moment, then shook his head with a wry smile: "There's nothing we can do. The mountain roads are rugged, and there are rainforests and swamps everywhere. If tanks drive in, they'll just be a bunch of immobile iron coffins, which will only become targets for Batista's air force. Moreover, just transporting them up the mountain would require enough fuel and logistical support to bankrupt my entire guerrilla force."
“That’s exactly the problem.” Fang Yu nodded. “Traditional heavy land warfare weapons are designed for large-scale, clustered operations in open terrain like the plains of Europe. They are not suitable for the complex and varied terrain of South America, let alone the guerrilla warfare you are currently waging, which is mainly fought in jungles and mountains.”
He pointed to the "iron lump" in the center of the field, his voice not loud, but clearly reaching everyone's ears.
"So, I've brought you this. It's called 'Po Jun,' a simplified and specialized version of our 'Ming Guang' class individual powered armor. It's a true 'individual combat platform' designed entirely for jungle warfare, mountain infiltration, urban combat, and special operations raids."
“Po Jun?” Guevara repeated the name, his confusion undiminished. “Individual soldier…combat platform?”
“That’s right.” Fang Yu smiled confidently. “When a well-trained soldier puts it on, he is not just an individual, but a small rapid reaction squad with the firepower of an infantry squad, the protection of a light armored vehicle, and the mobility of top special forces.”
As he spoke, he issued instructions to the handheld terminal.
At the entrance to the testing grounds in the distance, a Chinese soldier in a specially designed pilot's suit strode towards the "Broken Army" armored vehicle. He walked to the back of the armor, and with a slight hydraulic hiss, the back and leg armor plates automatically opened, revealing a complex internal transmission structure and securing devices. The soldier skillfully stepped inside and stood still.
The armor blocks closed silently, making a dull "click" sound.
The next second, the T-shaped sensor array on the head of the previously motionless "Broken Army" armor lit up with a ghostly blue light. It moved.