Chapter 195: Xingtian’s First Battle

“Oh Shit! I can’t see anything!”

“Take off your night vision goggles!”

…

The commotion in the communication channel as all members wearing night vision goggles suddenly encountered a blinding light. Even though their night vision devices were of extremely high quality, they were instantly damaged by the intense illumination.

“Open fire!”

“Retreat!”

Sanchez immediately issued two commands. At this moment, it was clear that the opposing side was prepared, and their side was caught off guard. The only option was to retreat first.

Since everyone took off their night vision goggles, they could not see the surrounding clearly and could only fire in the direction of the bright light.

Firing was a protective action, as well as a way to embolden oneself.

Instantly, gunfire erupted in the area.

Ten minutes later, Sanchez and Stark were somewhat despondent, as they encountered crossfire from two powerful positions while retreating backward.

This caused those who retreated the fastest to fall into pools of blood instantaneously. Fortunately, someone discovered that as long as they did not cross a certain position, the powerful platforms in the rear would not fire at them.

Sanchez arranged for someone to fire a grenade in hopes of destroying the opponent’s powerful platform—at least to silence them.

Unfortunately, after the smoke cleared, they were instead brutally struck by the powerful fire platforms, the positions from where they had fired grenades were riddled with bullets and grenades, and the members there could not be more dead.

Sanchez then led the remaining members in an attack toward the front, only to face fire from two more positions, thus suffering further losses.

Worse still, the position they were in was completely enveloped by the bright light from above, leaving everyone utterly exposed.

In just a few minutes of firefighting, the squad had lost half its members.

Sanchez brought 12 people in the assault team, and Stark had 6 in his action team. Now, the assault team had only 7 left, and the action team was down to 2.

“Sanchez, we’re surrounded. Cease fire and surrender,” Stark, whose eyes had somewhat adjusted to the bright lights, struggled to look beyond the illumination.

Vaguely, he could see not only two fire platforms in front but also seemingly two similar figures of fire platforms to the left and right.

Obviously, there were fire platforms to both sides too, but since they hadn’t fired in those directions during the initial breakout, it didn’t provoke return fire.

Sanchez seemed to realize something too. In fact, he had a vague guess in his mind.

He had just come from the Persian battlefield and had witnessed the ferocious combat power of the U.S. military’s battle robots.

The response to their recent attack on the two rear platforms was similar to when battle robots were attacked by Persians.

“Cease fire, everyone!”

Sanchez wisely shouted out this sentence. With eight battle robots surrounding them from all directions, and considering their lack of heavy weaponry and being exposed under the lights, there was no doubt they were easy targets.

Sanchez lay down on the ground and looked toward Stark, asking, “Buddy, is this what you called ‘just an ordinary industrial park’?”

Lying on his side on the ground, Stark revealed a helpless smile and said, “Although I know he owns one of the most powerful robot companies in the world, that company is far away in Tang Country, isn’t it?”

Sanchez looked around, his heart aching for his subordinates’ deaths. If it weren’t for the blinding light that made it difficult to see briefly, he would have stopped resisting the moment he saw the battle robots.

That way, his brothers wouldn’t have died in vain.

“We’ve already stopped firing. Why aren’t they reacting?” Sanchez spoke with a hint of surprise as he observed the quiet battlefield.

Stark thought for a while before saying, “Let me shout.”

“We surrender! We hope to receive the treatment due to prisoners of war,” Stark called out loudly.

“All personnel are to disarm any weapon carried, including knives, then stand up and walk forward.”

Right after Stark’s voice fell, another voice echoed around them.

Sanchez spoke in the communication channel, “Brothers, do as they ask. Don’t do anything foolish. I don’t want anyone else to lie here permanently.”

After saying this, he was the first to stand up, throwing his weapons, bayonet, grenades, and so on to the ground, and then he walked toward the front.

With his hands held high, Sanchez stepped out of the illumination of the battlefield area, paused for a moment to let his eyes readjust, and then he saw two huge figures not far away that were clearly battle robots, causing him to take a sharp breath.

Compared to their own, these two battle robots were even more domineering.

These combat robots had thick four legs, and their bodies seemed to be made of multiple levels, each possibly a kind of powerful weapons launch box.

The lowest part consisted of six layers of rectangular boxes, about one-meter front-to-back in length and roughly 10 centimeters in height each, with at least eight holes on the front looking like missile launch boxes.

However, given the size of these boxes, it seemed more likely that they were for rocket grenades.

Above these six layers of launch boxes, there were six more layers, each circular and resembling turrets, with what appeared to be about a 120mm caliber short cannon in front.

But who has ever seen turrets stacked in circles like this, giving a sensation of round towers piled high?

Above these round turreted sections was a sealed cube, its purpose not apparent.

The entire figure was about two meters tall.

At that moment, it had two mechanical arms which appeared sturdier yet more agile than those of the U.S. military’s.

At the front end of these arms were six-barreled machine guns, likely the source of the recent bullet storm.

Watching in astonishment, Sanchez saw a black man approaching, dressed in camouflage that suggested he was an Iron Guard Security officer.

Interestingly, he was unarmed and looked very serious, “You’ve entered private property armed without permission, and you will need to assume the corresponding criminal responsibility. Now please come with me.”

“Hey, brother, we demand that you adhere to the Geneva Conventions and afford us the treatment due for prisoners of war,” Stark stepped up and said.

The black man coldly glanced at Stark and stated, “Your actions tonight constitute an invasion of South Sudan and trespassing on private property — you are robbers, not engaged in regular warfare with us.

Additionally, this is your last warning: From now on, you are not allowed to speak. Should you fail to comply, all consequences will be on you.”

As he said these words, the remaining members of the U.S. military task force had already walked up to him, and the two giant robots agilely moved closer.

The remaining members fell utterly silent, intimidated by the two imposing steel beasts; no one wanted to protest at this moment.

Stark made a zip-your-lip motion and then silently followed Sanchez, forming a line of 9 as they followed the black man through the dense forest to the front of a square-shaped factory building.

At that point, several more black security officers appeared, each carrying a weapon that looked compact and futuristic.

To Sanchez’s experience, this firearm was unlike any he had seen before.

For a moment, panic began to set inside him, as he sensed the more he saw, the less likely he was to leave this place.

Sanchez glanced back at Stark and seemed to see something in his eyes. Their gazes clashed for an instant, and it seemed they reached mutual understanding of each other’s thoughts.

Stark wanted to speak, but remembering the black man’s words, he opened his mouth only to swallow his voice again.

The group silently entered the factory under the watchful eyes of the security officers and was then led to separate rooms.

Each member was pushed into a room one by one—nine people into nine rooms.

Sanchez examined the room which was only about five square meters in size, with walls that were white but appeared to be made of special material, not just painted white.

The overhead light was recessed in the ceiling, making the room bright, and there was a rectangular platform in the center.

Sanchez’s feeling of terror grew stronger. When he turned around, the door had already closed.

“Shit!”

The place resembled a makeshift operation room, though it was empty of any equipment.

Unwilling to sit on the central platform, Sanchez found a corner to sit in, cradling his knees. His mind was in chaos.

The mission he was part of was just to capture a scientist businessman, so how did it come to such a catastrophic failure—and half his team dead?