Enemy warplanes once again swaggered overhead, taking the lives of their comrades!
This has happened more than once since the founding of the People's Republic of China.
Our country's fighter jets are too outdated, and the enemy takes advantage of this to disregard our airspace rights and arbitrarily enter and provoke us. Every time, we have to pay a heavy price to drive them away.
Ultimately, it's because we're too outdated!
The country invests money and resources to encourage scientists to conduct research so that one day we will no longer be constrained by others in this area!
The importance of Mingzhao is self-evident. For Zhang Meng, as long as Mingzhao can build the stealth fighter, she will accept him regardless of his background or origins!
On the elevated platform, Su Xuan's eyes were bloodshot, and he bit his lip hard, blood flowing down the corner of his mouth.
He slammed his fist into the iron railing next to him, making a dull thud!
Mingzhao stood there quietly.
Her gaze pierced through the air vent, as if she could see the lingering smoke and falling flames in the azure sky.
His cold face remained expressionless.
But her fingertips were tightly gripping a drawing pencil.
Click!
A very slight, crisp sound.
That sturdy drawing pencil was snapped in two by her pale, seemingly delicate fingers!
The broken edges were jagged, and sawdust and graphite powder covered her fingertips.
The broken pencil slipped from my fingers and fell onto the cold metal platform with a crisp sound.
She slowly lowered her head, looking at her fingertips covered in graphite powder, and then at the "Shadow" skeleton below, which seemed unusually silent after the all-clear signal, as if it too was stained with the blood of its comrades.
Mingzhao thought again of Huo Hua's injuries and Jiang Feng's lost leg. She was unaware of the lives other soldiers had sacrificed for these causes!
On the warship, in order to protect her research results, the Federation soldiers who stayed behind to cover the retreat made a decisive choice...
Her gaze returned to the skeleton of the "Shadow," her voice so low it was almost inaudible, yet carrying a resolute chilling resolve:
"Too slow..."
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