Chapter 256: Distributing Guns!

Chapter 256: Fire the Gun!

The Mosquito bomber, one of the most legendary bombers of World II.

Its original design philosophy rested on the maxim “speed for survival”, aiming to forge an aircraft that was light enough, fast enough, yet capable of carrying a respectable payload and delivering a potent strike.

Yet, in the subsequent series of refinements, curbing the demand for strategic resources also became a design imperative for this bomber.

Thus, after iterating through several proposals and with the backing of the Royal Air Force and the Air Ministry, the aircraft finally came into being.

Guided by an extreme lightweight mindset, every superfluous component was stripped away, even the defensive armament was omitted.

In its maiden version it sported a solitary 2,000‑horsepower Napier Sabre engine, a payload of merely 450 kg, but could still range 2,400 km.

One might call this the Mosquito’s juvenile form; later refinements added more engines, altered the propeller type, vastly boosting lift capacity and speed, and expanding its multi‑theater combat prowess.

——

But for the Chinese forces of that era, such refinements were superfluous.

Rei Jie’s ambition was simple: a fixed‑wing bomber that borrowed the Mosquito’s layout, possessed modest lift, and could linger long and travel far.

‘.So, in fact, compared with the Mosquito, we can push lightweight design even further.’

‘After all, we need not even mount an engine; six electric motors each exceeding 500 kW will more than satisfy our power needs.’

‘This contraption can be cobbled together in a snap; the battery reserves are ample.’

‘According to Fuxi’s calculations, the entire powertrain—including batteries—can be kept under 500 kg, granting a 1,200‑km range when fully loaded.’

‘Though the range falls short of the Mosquito’s, it is more than sufficient for our present purposes.’

‘The airframe will be pure aluminium alloy; the fuselage, plywood.’

‘We lack a plywood production line, yet the fabrication is no obstacle: procure a rotary cutter and a hot‑press, and with Fuxi’s output a day and a half will suffice.’

‘As for adhesives, we have a stockpile of industrial glue that will tide us over for now.’

‘Should the need arise later, once the synthetic‑ammonia plant is operational we can produce our own binders; failing that, we could import natural glues from Jinling City in a pinch.’

‘For any other processes, we shall eschew machinery wherever possible.’

‘Following this logic, I estimate roughly six days to roll out the first Mosquito prototype.’

‘Once a standardized workflow is established, the time to craft each subsequent aircraft will shrink further.’

‘Perhaps our air force will take shape before the army does.’

Rei Jie finished speaking, and Chen Jian gave a silent nod.

In truth, his conjecture that the air force might precede the army was not without foundation.

The crux lay in the differing requirements.

If you claim that merely brandishing a gun and stepping onto a battlefield qualifies as an army, then the army’s formation speed outpaces any other.

But if you demand combat effectiveness— the ability to strike monsters and sustain a high damage‑to‑loss ratio—there is no shortcut faster than the aerial route.

After all, the overwhelming majority of monsters in this world cannot fly.

Especially the colossal ones; Chen Jian had never witnessed a single one truly take to the skies.

It is said that the Qinyuan beast possessed gliding ability, yet it was crushed before it could locate a launch point.

Thus, any bomber that could soar at sufficient altitude would be, for all intents, invincible.

You strike at me? From where?

I cruise at two or three thousand metres; what of it? Can you, like that relic monster of Jinling, hurl spore‑balls as makeshift anti‑aircraft fire?

Moreover, the Mosquito’s design philosophy is not that of a low‑altitude, close‑range harrier like the Wart‑hog, but a pure bomber.

In this respect its survivability receives yet another boost.

At that thought, a faint smile tugged at Chen Jian’s lips.

‘If we keep at it, the stockpiled aerial munitions in the Ring Chamber’s vault will finally see use.’

‘What a whale‑eel. I swear I won’t believe it—no matter how hard you are, you can’t out‑hard my 500‑kg bomb.’

‘Indeed.’

Rei Jie exhaled slowly, then asked:

‘What’s the status of that monster now?’

‘It vanished.’

Chen Jian shook his head and replied:

‘After its subterranean tunnel network was shattered, it never resurfaced; even the seismographs cannot catch the faintest tremor.’

‘But we can be certain it is not presently edging closer to us.’

‘The base remains secure, though other locations are less certain.’

‘According to He Shuo’s intel, several towns under the Mechanical Cult’s sway have suffered attacks of late.’

‘Although the scale of the monster assaults is modest, the pressure they endure is far from negligible.’

‘My present worry is not the beast‑horde that may befall us.’

‘These monsters are exceedingly clever; their sole aim is to annihilate our fledgling faction.’

‘Thus, they may resort to even more circuitous tactics to strike.’

‘For instance, corralling refugees?’

Rei Jie asked abruptly.

‘Yes.’

Chen Jian sighed.

‘If they truly could raze every peripheral human settlement, force the refugees toward our direction, and then exploit the resulting resettlement strain to launch an attack…’

Chen Jian’s sentence trailed off, but a prickle rose on Rei Jie’s skin.

Such a ‘tactic’, or perhaps a ‘strategy’, has surfaced in countless rebellions throughout history.

Its efficacy is, frankly, self‑evident.

As rulers, as the legitimate custodians of a power, we are inherently bound to shelter civilians and rely upon them; those monsters possess no such obligation.

To them, civilians are either enemies or expendable resources.

Extracting value from expendables is their optimal solution.

——

But the question remains: could those monsters truly conceive such a level of scheming?

If they can, are they still monsters?

Rei Jie fell silent, watching Chen Jian, whose expression was gravely solemn.

After a long pause, he finally spoke:

‘I’m going to build an aircraft.’

“Now, for us, the need for long‑range strike capability is more urgent than ever.”

“I must build this thing!”

“By the way, today we’re preparing to launch the first batch of reconnaissance balloons.”

“If necessary, we can also mount some offensive weapons on the balloons.”

“Even if we can’t achieve stable lethality, generating any deterrent is better than nothing!”

“You decide.”

Chen Jian answered decisively, then said:

“Our game with the monsters has grown ever more intricate; whatever tricks we have, we must employ them to the fullest!”

Hours later, at the newly cleared temporary airfield on the east side of Base 011.

Several balloons stood ready on the airfield, while Lei Jie directed the workers to fill the sealed chambers with hydrogen from gas cylinders.

They used hydrogen because they currently lack the capacity to produce nitrogen, yet Base 011’s self‑sustaining system can generate hydrogen by a rather simple method.

Though the quantity is modest, it suffices to fill a few balloons.

As for the danger, it was not even a consideration for them.

As the balloons gradually swelled, the power gondola beneath was hoisted, floating aloft.

Lei Jie carefully inspected the pressure gauge, and as soon as the balloon achieved lift, he halted the workers. “Pressure normal, power pod operating normally, photovoltaic array functioning, storage normal, data transmission normal.”

After a series of checks, Lei Jie swept his hand dramatically and ordered:

“Launch!”

“Understood!”

Several anchor lines meant to tether the balloons were released, yet the anticipated soaring spectacle never materialized.

In the gentle breeze, a few balloons drifted upward lazily, moving so slowly that Chen Jian felt he could simply hop and yank them down.

“This thing moves so slowly—can it really fly high?”

Chen Jian asked curiously.

“Absolutely.”

Lei Jie replied with full confidence:

“Primarily, this contraption uses a thermal‑storage altitude control system; heating is gradual, and it only climbs quickly under strong sunlight.”

“But rest assured, even at a crawl it’s sufficient.”

“After all, its purpose is reconnaissance, not an aerial assault.”

“That’s true.”

Chen Jian said no more, and simply watched the balloons drift farther away.

His neck ached from the upward tilt, and only when the balloons finally reached sufficient altitude did the power gondola begin its horizontal glide.

The speed remained sluggish, yet as Lei Jie had said, the balloons floated with remarkable steadiness.

When he glanced at the smart ocular, the footage captured by the reconnaissance balloon began streaming in real time.

“Once this system is in place, we’ll obtain continuous, dead‑zone‑free reconnaissance imagery within a sixty‑kilometre radius.”

“If we’re more aggressive, we could set the balloons to autopilot and push further outward.”

“But that would introduce latency in the returned intelligence.”

“I suggest we wait until we have enough balloons to rotate before pursuing that.”

“When the time comes, I’ll also equip the balloons with relay stations to broaden network coverage.”

“Extending the reconnaissance radius beyond 120 kilometres would essentially secure our own safety.”

“Agreed.”

Chen Jian nodded in satisfaction and then cut the balloon feed.

Yet the instant the feed blacked out, he noticed an unusual heat signature blooming across the ground.

He quickly switched back, zoomed in, and laid bare everything on the surface.

“Mantis.”

Chen Jian said gravely:

“We’ve already killed so many, and there are still so many??”

“What on earth are these monsters relying on to reproduce? Did we have this many back in Chuansha City?”

“No.”

Standing nearby, Xie Liu spoke:

“But these creatures aren’t particularly unique; a large number is quite normal.”

“Chuansha City is likely just one of many settlements; we have no idea how many such clusters exist across the southern region.”

“Nevertheless, with so many monsters massed near our base, we can infer that the beast tide’s reach exceeds our expectations.”

“Most of these beasts are probably still sated; in a short while they’ll commence a massive hunt.”

“We must inform the Mechanist Cult.”

“We can’t hold back that many monsters; they must shoulder the responsibility!”

“Understood.”

Chen Jian’s face grew solemn as he nodded, then ordered:

“Gather our own people first, arm them!”

“Yes!”

Xie Liu turned away at once, and moments later every resident of Base 011 had assembled on the square.

Chen Jian explained the situation to everyone in the most straightforward manner, then hurriedly tasked the Huaxia troops to distribute all newly‑produced Type‑75 assault rifles.

The stock of rifles manufactured these past days, aside from the batch delivered to the Jiangnan Chamber of Commerce, was just enough to meet the base’s civilian needs.

In Chen Jian’s view, they need not master any “effective” use of their arms; they only need to be able to roughly aim at a monster and pull the trigger when danger looms.

Guided by that principle, his arming plan was simple.

One weapon per person, women and children included equally.

When the residents received their weapons and the thirty rounds that came with each, almost everyone fell into a profound bewilderment.

Of course they had seen weapons before; each had witnessed the Huaxia recruits firing at targets during training.

Yet they could never have imagined such powerful arms being handed out so casually.

These Huaxia “company commanders”

“Are they not afraid someone might rebel?”

Jiang Yu gripped his Type‑75 rifle tightly, looked up toward Chen Jian and the others far away, busy tallying ammunition.

She tentatively lifted the gun, then lowered it again, mirroring the motion displayed by Ji Xing ahead, dropping the barrel and loading a single bullet into the magazine.

“Spread out, keep a safe distance!”

“Raise the muzzle toward the heavens!”

Ji Xing's voice rang out.

Jiang Yu immediately fell in step, gripping the fore‑end tightly, pointing the barrel skyward.

The others moved with a sluggish, uneven rhythm; Jiang Yu scanned the surroundings and gradually saw the muzzles, like towering blades of wild grass, all thrust toward the sky.

“Grip the fore‑end firmly!”

“Pull the trigger!”

“Bang!”

“Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang—”

A relentless cascade of gunfire instantly rang across the entire base.

The smoke coalesced in a cloud, only to be scattered swiftly by the wind.

It was merely the simplest of drills.

Yet for these inhabitants, it bore profound significance.

From that moment on, they were bestowed a new title.

“Huaxia Militia.”

“Cease fire!”

The command rang again, and this time the crowd moved with far greater speed.

Clearly, after that single crack, something within the group had quietly shifted.

And this transformation might be only the beginning.

(End of Chapter)