Apocalypse Rebirth: 3000 million won at the beginning

New Delhi.

Flames engulfed the sky.

The fire has fully spread.

Looking out from the outskirts of New Delhi, the skyline is completely bathed in orange-red light.

Thick smoke billowed up from the ground, obscuring the sky and turning the entire sky into a murky gray-black.

The air was filled with a pungent, burnt smell, mixed with the bitter aroma of burning plants.

The Indian soldiers standing guard on the edge of the front line had faces covered in sweat and ashes.

Their hands gripped the shovels, their thumbs and forefingers already blistered and bleeding, their palms red from the rough wood.

No one stopped, because the fire line was approaching at several kilometers per hour.

Moreover, they were pressing in from four directions simultaneously: east, south, west, and north.

An Indian soldier swung an axe at a thick tree trunk. He gritted his teeth, the axe blade embedded in the bark, and wood chips flew everywhere.

He was panting heavily when he pulled out the axe with all his might and chopped down again.

"Quick! Quick!"

My companions were digging a ditch with shovels, and the smell of soil mixed with humus filled the air.

It tastes both fishy and astringent.

"This is fucking endless!"

Another soldier wiped the sweat from his face and cursed:

"These tree roots are so deep that the shovels have to be used to cut them down."

"Stop talking nonsense! Keep digging!" the leading officer roared.

"Hurry up if you want to live!"

Hassan stood in front of the map in the command room, looking at the red lines that were advancing in four directions.

To the southwest, the front line was less than 80 kilometers away from them.

It is expected to burn here in six hours.

East, southeast, with a tailwind.

The fire line is about 100 kilometers away and is expected to reach this area in 14 hours.

West, northwest, crosswind.

The fire line is approximately 110 kilometers away and is expected to arrive in 24 hours.

North, northeast, headwind.

The spread is the slowest; it is expected to reach the area in two days.

The communicator rang.

He picked up the communicator and immediately heard the trembling voice of his subordinate officer.

"General Hassan."

"The first firebreak... We concentrated most of our efforts in the southwest direction, but we only dug ten kilometers in three hours, with a width of fifty meters, which is less than ten percent of the total progress."

Hassan's fingers pressed against the table, his knuckles turning white.

"What about the other directions?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the communicator, and then the voice became even lower.

"We've only dug three kilometers in the southeast direction; the west and north... we haven't even had time to start yet."

"Too fast." Hassan closed his eyes, his voice very soft, as if he were talking to himself.

"The fire is spreading too fast, damn it!"

He put down the communicator, walked to the window, drew back the curtains, and his chest heaved violently.

The orange-red light in the distance had already merged into one.

He suddenly felt tightness in his chest and shortness of breath, and leaned against the windowsill to catch his breath a few times.

What to do? What to do? What to do? These words kept echoing in his mind.

In the distance, dozens of kilometers away, flames are advancing fiercely.

The layers of humus that had accumulated in the dense forest for countless years sizzled under the licking of the flames, and the dry leaves and grass clippings ignited at the slightest touch.

The flames lurked and spread beneath the thick layer of humus, spreading in all directions along tree roots and withered grass.

The flying sparks rose into the air in the hot air currents, carried by the wind over the treetops, igniting vegetation several kilometers ahead in advance, even faster than the main fire line.

The entire burning area resembled a blazing sea of ​​fire, leaping, rolling, and surging in the wind.

From above, it looks like a wound cracked open in the earth, slowly and irreversibly tearing this land apart.

Two more hours passed.

Hassan's communicator rang again.

This time, the news was even worse.

The flames in the southwest are moving the fastest, and they are less than 55 kilometers away from them. It is expected that they will reach them in three hours.

It's still 80 kilometers to the southeast, and the estimated time is 11 hours.

It's another 90 kilometers to the northwest, estimated to take 20 hours.

Although there are still more than 30 hours to go in the northeast direction, the fire is slowly and irreversibly spreading inward.

Hassan's hand clenched tightly around the communicator, his knuckles turning white: "How come so fast? Didn't they say there were still four hours left?"

There was static on the other end of the communicator, then the voice of the subordinate officer came through again.

"The wind is too strong, and there's too much flying fire. The fire line is advancing much faster than we anticipated, and we simply can't stop it..."

Hassan paused for a moment before continuing, "How much of the first firebreak has been dug?"

The officer under him said in a low voice, "Fifteen kilometers to the southwest."

"What about the other directions?"

"...It's less than eight kilometers in total."

"Fuck!"

Hassan's fingers pressed against the table, his knuckles turning white.

He forced back the dull pain rising in his chest and took a deep breath.

"Of the 120-kilometer-long firebreak, we have only completed less than a quarter of it. The fire spread much faster than we expected."

He clenched his fist and asked in a hoarse voice, "Can you stop them for fifteen kilometers to the southwest?"

The subordinate remained silent for a long time before finally speaking:
"Sir, it's not that we don't want to hurry."

“Those trees were huge, with deep roots. The ground was covered with a thick layer of rotting leaves and weeds.”

"After burning for so many years, the underground humus layer has piled up to countless layers. When you shovel down, all you get is rotten mud and withered roots."

"Digging can't be done quickly at all."

Then, he said, somewhat aggrieved:

"Moreover, the southwest direction is a tailwind. There are too many flying fireballs; they can fly over from as far as fifty meters away."

"The 50-meter firebreak we built is simply not enough to stop the fire."

Hassan closed his eyes and remained silent for a long time.

"I see."

He put down the communicator and said to one of his men behind him:
"Go and call the project manager here."

"Yes, General." The subordinate's expression was also not good; he knew that the current situation was very critical.

The project manager arrived quickly, covered in sweat and with his face covered in mud and grime.

He stood in front of Hassan, head bowed, his clothes torn in several places, looking utterly disheveled.

Hassan didn't waste any time with pleasantries and went straight to the point: "Salman, do you think we can hold them off?"

The person in charge remained silent for a moment, then shook his head.

"We might be able to hold out in the southwest, but we definitely can't stop the fire from other directions. There's too much flying fire and the wind is too strong."

"Moreover, news just came from the southeast that the fire line is advancing faster than expected, and there is simply not enough time to repair the firebreaks."

He looked up at Hassan, his expression almost pleading.

"Sir, we've really done our best. The current fire line is far too long. I suggest..."

“Come with me.” Hassan glanced at him, and before he could finish speaking, he knew what the engineer was thinking: abandon the perimeter.

"Yes." The engineer quickly followed.

Hassan led him out of the command room, quickly across the corridor, and past several houses.

I walked straight to the door of the Central District Office, pushed it open, and went inside.

There were already more than a dozen people sitting in the office, all of whom were heads of various departments in New Delhi.

There were people in charge of scientific research, people in charge of the military, people in charge of civilian evacuation, and several researchers wearing white coats.

The atmosphere in the office plummeted to freezing point.

After greeting the Grand Marshal, Hassan sat down at the table, spread out the map, and without exchanging pleasantries with the others, began to speak:

"Let me explain the current situation."

"The fire is spreading too fast right now, burning in all four directions. Our first firebreak is less than 20 kilometers long, which is simply not enough."

"There are less than four hours left in the southwest direction, and eleven hours left in the southeast direction."

"The fire line is also advancing in the southeast, northwest, and northeast directions, and there is simply no time to repair the firebreaks."

An officer sitting diagonally opposite looked up and asked, "Oh? So what do we do now?"

Hassan's face darkened as he said, "Abandon the outer defenses and concentrate all forces in the core area."

The meeting room erupted in chaos.

"Abandon the death buffer zone? That's a defensive line we've built up over so many years!"

"What to do about the zombies? How do we evacuate millions of zombies?"

"And what about those cyborgs! How do we evacuate?"

"What should be done with the zombies that were evacuated and the cyborgs from the quarantine zone?"

The meeting room was a chaotic mess of chatter.

Hassan watched them silently and coldly, without answering, his fingers tapping lightly. These people were asking questions but offering no solutions; it was no different from empty talk.

Too noisy.

He gestured to the engineer he had brought with him. This middle-aged man was the engineer in charge of the fortifications, wearing a gray, tattered work uniform with mud stuck to his cuffs.

He walked to the map, pointed to the area on the outskirts of New Delhi, and said, “Gentlemen, I have a compromise suggestion.”

He cleared his throat, his tone calm:

“Abandon the death buffer zone and most of the quarantine zone, and build a second firebreak in the middle of the quarantine zone to protect the core area and part of the quarantine zone.”

"The second firebreak is only one-third the length of the original, about 48 kilometers."

"Moreover, we don't need to build in the jungle; we can dig directly in the open space, which is much faster."

“Forty-eight kilometers.” An officer next to him frowned.

"How many zombies can we save?"

The engineer shook his head: "Most of it can't be saved, but the core area can definitely be defended."

"Moreover, the 48-kilometer journey doesn't require digging through the jungle; it's just a leveled open space, making it much faster."

"We have 25 bulldozers that can work 24 hours a day and are expected to finish in about 10 hours."

The meeting room fell silent again, and everyone looked at each other in bewilderment.

"So we sacrificed so much just to defend the core area?" Someone stood up, their voice filled with anger.

"Who will be responsible for the dead zombies? So many zombies have escaped from under the sea fog. These millions of zombies are our last trump card."

“That’s better than being burned to death.” The engineer’s tone remained calm: “At least the core area was saved, and the people and equipment were saved.”

Someone countered, "What about the remaining zombies? What about those who didn't evacuate? What about the cyborgs in the quarantine zone? Are they just going to be left there to burn?"

"What else can we do? Go and rescue them!" another officer coldly retorted.

"The fire is already right under our noses, and we're still arguing about these things. What's the point?"

Everyone held their own opinion, and no one was willing to give in.

Some people slammed their fists on the table and shouted in protest, while others lowered their heads and remained silent.

The sounds of arguing, sighing, and banging on the table were mixed together.

The Grand Marshal remained silent.

He sat at the head of the long table, his gaze sweeping across everyone's faces.

Looking at those anxious, angry, and desperate faces.

After a long while, he finally spoke.

"Stop arguing!!"

"Follow Engineer Salman's plan: abandon the death buffer zone, abandon most of the quarantine zone, and build a second firebreak in the middle of the quarantine zone."

"Forty-eight kilometers, concentrate all manpower, and build it as wide as possible."

He scanned everyone present, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

"As for the zombies, those that can be evacuated should be evacuated, and those that cannot be evacuated should stay where they are."

The office fell silent. The Grand Marshal had already left, and no one spoke again; besides, there was no better solution.

The order was quickly relayed.

Mass evacuation of zombies began in the death buffer zone surrounding New Delhi.

The zombies were manipulated and crawled out of the ruins and bushes.

They moved densely along the highway and open areas toward the restricted area.

There are reptiles, quadrupedal creatures, and giant mutants.

The most striking feature is the enormous body of the dozens of Shiva lords, which, from a distance, look like moving hills.

With each step, the ground trembled slightly.

The whole scene was chaotic and oppressive.

The operator directed the horde of zombies to move in the designated direction.

The howls of zombies, the whistles of operators, and the roar of machinery mingled together.

Like a pot of porridge that has boiled.

On the construction site of the second firebreak zone, bulldozers rumbled as they rolled over the leveled land.

Workers followed behind the bulldozers, using shovels and hoes to clear away the remaining tree roots and rocks.

Truckloads of sand and gravel were brought in and dumped at the edge of the median strip.

Hundreds of soldiers lined up in a long queue, passing sandbags one by one to the firebreak.

They piled up to form a new line of defense.

Dust and dirt filled the air, turning everyone's faces grayish-black.

A young Indian man was carrying sandbags, his steps a little unsteady.

He was panting heavily when he placed the sandbag on the firebreak, straightened up, and wiped away his sweat.

Then I looked at the increasingly bright flames in the distance.

"If this fire spreads, will we still survive?" he asked the veteran next to him in a low voice.

An old soldier next to him sighed, patted him on the shoulder, and then bent down to pick up a sandbag.

at the same time.

The flames are rapidly approaching from the southwest.

From the air, the sea of ​​fire looked like a giant hand, slowly closing in on New Delhi.

The fire line has now expanded from the initial scattered fires into a continuous line.

Like a burning dragon, it rolls and surges forward in the wind.

The flying fire rose into the air amidst the hot air currents, like a flock of startled migratory birds taking flight.

It leaps over the treetops, over the mountain ridges, and lands in the unburnt area ahead, igniting a new sea of ​​fire.

The fire line is less than 20 kilometers away from the second firebreak.

The workers looked up and glanced at the increasingly bright flames in the distance.

"Hurry up!"

Stop looking!

"If it can't be fixed, we'll all die!"

Many workers looked frightened and quickly lowered their heads to continue working.

No one spoke; only the sounds of shovels striking the ground and bulldozing echoed in the burning air.

In the forests stretching for dozens of kilometers outside New Delhi, there was once Hassan's plan to ambush Chinese people.

at this time.

The zombies and Indian fighters in the forest are still evacuating.

Because there were too many zombies, and because they were on a covert mission, they had hidden in the bushes. They couldn't possibly react in a few hours when they had to retreat all at once.

Even though they were told to evacuate just hours ago, the evacuation is progressing too slowly, and only a portion of them have been evacuated so far.

A large number of Indians ran on foot, carrying guns and ammunition, through the ashes and smoke, with a large number of zombies following them not far away.

But some people retreated too slowly.

Southwest direction.

In the woods, the advance of the fire line accelerated.

The flying sparks rose into the air in the hot air currents, soared over the treetops, and landed deep in the still unburnt dense forest ahead, igniting a new line of fire.

The entire forest was ablaze, thick smoke blotted out the sun, and the flames illuminated the entire sky.

They caught up with a large group of zombies that were retreating.

One of the zombies writhed in agony in the sea of ​​fire, its screams shrill and piercing, before finally being completely consumed by the flames.

"I'll go!" A young man with curly hair, carrying a gun, ran desperately northwards. His curly hair, scorched and smoking, became even curlier.

Sizzle
His back was hit by flying sparks, and his clothes instantly burst into flames.

He let out a scream, fell to the ground and rolled around, trying to put out the flames.

"Help! Help me!" he cried out desperately.

"My back! My back!"

Several of his companions rushed over and used their clothes to beat out the flames on his body.

The flames were extinguished, but his back was charred black.

He was in so much pain that he couldn't speak, he could only gasp for breath with his mouth open, tears mixed with sweat streaming down his face.

"Brother, save me," he said, his voice trembling, his eyes filled with a desperate desire to live.

His companion hesitated for a few seconds, gritted his teeth, lifted him up, and dragged him to continue running north.

Further away, a level-two Shiva is moving slowly.

Its massive body resembles a moving hill.

But it was moving too slowly, and the fire line had blocked all its escape routes.

The calamity Shiva struggled in the flames, letting out a deafening roar.

The flames instantly engulfed its entire body.

"Roar--"

The calamity god Shiva writhed violently, trying to extinguish the flames on his body.

However, its thick stratum corneum turned into fuel under high temperatures.

Flames burned on its body, the temperature rose higher and higher, and it made a popping sound.

The fire was raging, and this was in a jungle-filled area where the flames could reach temperatures of up to 1800 degrees Celsius. Plus, Shiva had nowhere to escape, and flames were everywhere.

After half an hour.

It let out a final roar, and its massive body slowly collapsed.

It crashed to the ground, sending up a cloud of ash and sparks.

Several Indian soldiers were unable to evacuate in time and were trapped on a small hill by the fire.

The fire surged in from all directions, and smoke began to rise from the ground beneath their feet.

An old soldier squatted on the ground, frantically digging with a shovel, trying to dig a hole to bury himself.

"Quick! Dig!" he shouted, his voice hoarse.

"If we don't dig now, it will be too late!"

The soil became scalding hot under the high temperature. He had already dug half a meter deep and shrank into the pit.

Flames spread across the slope, igniting the surrounding vegetation.

Thick smoke poured into the pit, and he coughed violently, covering his mouth and nose, until he finally suffocated in the pit.

Another young soldier knelt on the ground, clasped his hands together, and muttered something.

His eyes were red from the thick smoke, and tears mixed with ashes streamed down his face.

Two black marks were left on his face.

“God, save me…” he prayed softly, his voice hoarse.

"I don't want to die here..."

The flames relentlessly swept over him, engulfing him.

In this horrific fire, without exception, anyone who could not evacuate in time would die.

At the construction site of the second isolation zone firebreak, the returning zombie army and the Indian operators were passing through the edge of the construction site.

The zombies were so numerous that they almost covered the entire road.

Some zombies strayed from their course in the chaos and rushed into the construction area.

The workers had to stop what they were doing and avoid the hordes of zombies that were pouring in.

Construction progress has been interrupted once again.

"Damn it! Here we go again!" one of the workers cursed.

"These damn zombies, how come there are so many of them!"

"Stop yelling! Get out of the way!" Another worker grabbed him and dragged him aside.

A zombie rushed past them, knocking over a pile of sandbags on the ground.

Sandbags rolled all over the ground, raising clouds of dust.

The workers frantically rearranged the equipment, which slowed them down considerably.

Hassan stood on the roof of the command post, looking at the chaotic scene.

He picked up the communicator, his voice hoarse: "Let them go in from the north road, so as not to affect the construction."

A noisy response came from the other end of the communicator: "Yes, General."

Soon after, the zombie horde began to slowly shift its course, gradually avoiding the construction area.

Inside the core area, the underground facilities were packed with people.

The evacuated civilians huddled in a corner, clutching their children.

The supplies in the underground warehouse were quickly distributed, and everyone received some dry food and drinking water.

Several researchers in white lab coats are processing the last few boxes of data.

He directed them to load the documents onto the truck, seal them, and number them.

"These documents cannot be lost!" a researcher shouted.

"This is the culmination of ten years of research! Quick! Move it to the basement!"

Another researcher was crouching on the ground, examining the seal of a sealed box.

He raised his head, looked at the distant firelight, remained silent for a moment, and murmured to himself:

"God, is it too late for us?"

Outside the core area, workers are digging a third line of defense.

A huge moat, about 100 meters wide and one meter deep, stretches across the outer wall of the core area.

Hassan stood in the command post, looking at the four advancing lines of fire on the map, his brow furrowed.

To the southwest, the fire line is still nearly 20 kilometers away from the second firebreak.

To the southeast, the fire line is still 45 kilometers away.

To the northwest, the fire line is still 55 kilometers away.

To the northeast, the fire line is about 90 kilometers away.

As for the progress of the second firebreak, the firebreak in the southwest direction has been basically completed.

To the southeast, bulldozers are working overtime, and nearly 30 kilometers of retaining wall have already been built.

It is about 25 kilometers to the northwest.

To the northeast, about eighteen kilometers.

"Time is running out." Hassan looked at the markings on the map, silently estimating the time in his mind, anxiously turning back and forth between battles.

But after calculating, he walked to the map in horror, muttering in anguish:
"There are at least two directions in which the fire line will reach the core area before the firebreak."

He bent down, placed his hands on the edge of the table, closed his eyes, and cursed a couple of times.

Two more hours passed.

The second firebreak in the southwest direction has finally been completed.

All manpower was concentrated in the southeast direction.

Shovels, hoes, excavators, explosives—everything that could be used was employed.

The workers ran through the dust and smoke; some fell from exhaustion, but got up and kept going.

Someone suffered heatstroke and fainted. They were carried to a shady spot, given some water, and then staggered back to the construction site.

No one stopped, because stopping meant death.

"Hurry! Hurry!" The leading officer waved his arms, his voice already hoarse.

"The last direction!"

“We can’t hold on much longer…” A worker collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.

His lips were chapped and his face was covered in ash.

"Stand up!" The officer pulled him up.

Do you want to die here?

The worker gritted his teeth, braced himself on his knees to stand up, picked up another sandbag, and staggered forward.

By the eleventh hour, the second firebreak in the southeast direction had also been cleared.

But just after the firebreaks were completed, they discovered in despair...
It still couldn't stop the flying fire. The second firebreak wasn't wide enough. The flying fire could travel over a hundred meters, which was simply outrageous.

A streak of fire swept across the treetops, crossed the defense line, and landed within the cordon of the New Delhi quarantine zone.

The quarantine zone used to be part of the urban area, but over the years the ground has cracked and a lot of weeds have grown.

Once the fire was brought in, the dry weeds and shrubs instantly burst into flames, which spread rapidly along the vegetation like writhing snakes.

The cyborg corpses that hadn't had time to evacuate struggled in the sea of ​​fire, letting out desperate roars, before being quickly engulfed by the flames.

"Help! Help!" a cyborg corpse cried out hoarsely as it rolled around in the sea of ​​fire.

It tried to extinguish the flames on its body, but its body was already ablaze.

Flames spread from its limbs to its torso, eventually engulfing its head.

Inside the quarantine zone, the fire had already engulfed the entire area.

Those once densely packed cyborg corpses are now nothing but charred remains.

He fell onto the scorched earth, where smoke was rising.

Several soldiers carried their wounded comrades across the spreading fire line, coughing as they ran through the thick smoke.

Ashes fell like snowflakes over the quarantine zone.

On the ground, black scorched earth and debris intertwined, like a picture of hell.

Hassan stood on the roof of the command post, watching the flames rising from inside the quarantine zone in the distance.

His lips trembled slightly. "The second line of defense has failed too!!!"

"Only the last firebreak is left."

He turned around, walked down the stairs, returned to the command room, and picked up the communicator.

"Abandon the quarantine zone and withdraw everyone to the core area. Hold onto those dozen or so square kilometers of the core area."

His voice was hoarse, with an almost imperceptible tremor, but his tone was calm.

The person in charge on the other end of the communicator was silent for a moment, then a faint response came through:

"clear."

Because the person in charge knew that if they abandoned the quarantine zone, they would be abandoning the vast majority of the zombies and a portion of the Shiva calamity.

Meanwhile, in the quarantine zone, sparks flew in lines, the dry grass burned incredibly fast, and the fire had already engulfed an entire area.

Those once densely packed cyborg corpses were reduced to charred remains after the fire, lying on the scorched earth still emitting blue smoke.

An Indian man carried his wounded comrade across the spreading fire line, coughing as he ran through the thick smoke.

"Hold on!" he shouted. "I'll get you out of here!"

"Don't worry about me..." the person on his back said weakly, "Run on your own..."

"Shut up!" the soldier gritted his teeth and quickened his pace.

All the workers responsible for the second line of defense were reassigned to the outer perimeter of the core area to join in widening the third firebreak.

A trench nearly two hundred meters wide was dug along the edge of the core area's perimeter wall.

There are no more jungles here, only leveled land.

The bulldozer tracks rolled over the scorched earth, producing a dull roar.

As large amounts of forest are burned in the surrounding area, the oxygen in central New Delhi is becoming increasingly thin and the oxygen content is decreasing.

Many workers who were already engaged in physically demanding labor began to experience dizziness and nausea due to the lack of oxygen at the time.

Some people fell directly to the ground.

The commander had to order a change of personnel every so often.

But the number of people falling ill continues to rise.

A worker collapsed next to a bulldozer, and his colleagues quickly dragged him to a shady spot.

"Water...water..." he mumbled incoherently.

His companion held the water bottle to his lips, and he took a few gulps before coughing violently again.

The central core area has become an oxygen-deficient zone.

No one was spared.

In the command room, the Grand Marshal clutched his chest, his face as pale as paper.

He leaned back in his chair, breathing heavily.

"Oxygen... not enough oxygen. I can't breathe," he said weakly.

The staff member next to him quickly handed him an oxygen mask.

The Grand Marshal took it, pressed it to his face, and took a few deep breaths before his complexion improved slightly.

If he felt this way, then it must have been even more unbearable for the others outside.

He looked out the window; ashes filled the air, obscuring the entire sky.

The sunlight couldn't penetrate the ashes, only casting a dark red glow on the ground.

The fire is still spreading, engulfing the entire land in flames.

"The Chinese people deserve to die!" His eyes were filled with hatred.

at the same time.

Inside the forward base.

The judge's helicopter has returned to base.

He stepped off the plane and strode into the command tent.

Xiao Jun was standing in front of the map when he heard footsteps. He turned around, saw the judge, and couldn't help but ask:
"Why did it take you so long to get back? I thought you would be back by evening."

"The fire has burned through," the judge explained with a smile.

“We originally wanted to come back earlier, but we went back to New Delhi halfway through the flight to take a look.”

"When we left, the entire outskirts of New Delhi had been reduced to ashes and scorched earth."

"The direction of the firebreak is clearly visible, and the Indians simply do not have enough time to widen the defensive line sufficiently."

"The fire spread much faster than they could build firebreaks."

He paused for a moment and drew a circle on the map with his finger.

"Although some firebreaks have been repaired, they have now burned through into the interior of the isolation zone."

"The fire is expected to spread to the edge of the core area within a few hours. Much faster than we anticipated."

Xiao Jun looked at the map, his face lighting up with excitement. "Then..."

"Should we set off earlier?"

“I think it’s okay, but I plan to go and check again tomorrow morning,” the judge said. “Let the troops rest and prepare to depart. Once you receive my message tomorrow, you can set off immediately.”

The next morning, the judge took over a dozen helicopters to New Delhi to investigate the fire situation.

Three hours later, they arrived at the outskirts of New Delhi.

Hey!
Old Qin stared at the scene in the distance, his face filled with shock.

Looking down from the porthole, the entire outskirts of New Delhi had been reduced to ashes and scorched earth.

There were still scattered embers on the ground, with wisps of smoke rising and swirling in the morning light.

Outside the Indian quarantine zone, a few soldiers were still standing on the firebreak.

They were busy putting out the scattered fires that were spreading.

The judge looked out the porthole at the situation in New Delhi, and then looked down at the surrounding 2,000 square kilometers of jungle that had been burned.

He picked up the communicator.

"Xiao Jun, the fire is much bigger than expected. The Indians are still fighting the fire on the firebreaks, but the interior of the containment zone is almost completely burned."

“I think we don’t need to wait any longer. You can set off now. It will take you three days to get here. After three days, the ground in that area will have cooled down, which will be perfect for advancing.”

"Moreover, the surrounding forests have all been burned down, and the Indians are too busy to take care of themselves, so their reconnaissance capabilities are basically paralyzed."

"Furthermore, Shiva, the calamity lord, is so large that it cannot be hidden in the ashes, making it easy for us to spot. As long as we advance from a distance, those Shiva calamity lords will hardly pose a threat to us."

A buzzing sound came from the other end of the communicator, followed a moment later by Xiao Jun's voice: "Understood, we'll set off now."

Communication is interrupted.

The judge leaned back in his chair, looking through the porthole at the still-burning sea of ​​fire in the distance, his eyes extremely calm.

He signaled to the pilot to maintain altitude, keeping the helicopter hovering at a safe distance, and quietly observing the scene below.

Another place.

Forward base.

Xiao Jun looked at the troops who were fully equipped and ready to go. The mechs were already laid flat on the trucks, and more than a dozen helicopters were flying around in the air.

Instantly, a surge of heroic spirit filled him.

He stood beside the command vehicle, picked up the communicator, and shouted to the crowd with great enthusiasm:

"Brothers, the fire has started over there in India. It's the perfect time for us to make our move!"

"All personnel, heed my command! Move out!"

With a wave of his hand, the convoy slowly started and headed towards New Delhi along the dilapidated roads through the jungle.

[OS: This part of the story about the Indian guy will end tomorrow.] (End of Chapter)