Chapter 718: Harvest

Yuri’s life was saved by Number 13.

The large black man, Malcolm Ali, looked at Lin Mo with deep gratitude and quickly moved forward with a stretcher to take Yuri from Lin Mo, who was carrying him like a sack of cotton.

Lin Mo noticed the concern in his gaze and said, “It’s fine, he’s just sleeping.”

Before landing, Lin Mo casually cast a Light Healing spell on Yuri.

Of course, it wasn’t like one spell could heal all wounds, realign fractured bones, and completely erase scars.

The Light Healing spell Lin Mo mastered could only cleanse and reduce inflammation, activate vitality, and speed up recovery processes. Medical equipment using light energy in this world could achieve similar effects, such as lasers to promote healing and far-infrared resonance therapy.

As a battle worker, it was already remarkable for Lin Mo to master some practical auxiliary spells; after all, his magical talent was limited, and he couldn’t become a magician known for elemental whispers or a divine arts master renowned as a beloved of the gods.

Yuri, snoring soundly, was placed on the stretcher. On-site medical personnel conducted a quick check and nodded to Yuri’s black bodyguard captain. At that moment, the captain nodded back at Lin Mo and hurriedly took Yuri away.

Among those welcoming them, Lin Mo spotted two robots, "Lion Star 4," controlled by the Adam intelligent core. It was rare for them to take the time to observe his return; oh no, they were likely there to collect data to determine if it was worth continuing to invest in him.

It seemed that they had also made a significant profit during the Death Team Battle.

The Dragon Knight’s perspective on intelligent life was quite different from that of the humans in this world; after all, in a world of magical civilization, various intelligent beings existed beyond just humans, including many powerful races. However, their small numbers made reproduction difficult, allowing the weak yet united human race to become the dominant species in civilization.

“What exactly are you doing? You’re injured; don’t push yourself. Do you want to lie in bed for the rest of your life?”

“Yasha” tried to pull Lin Mo onto the stretcher, but Lin Mo gently shrugged him off, almost causing him to fall onto the stretcher himself.

“I’m fine; my physical fitness is stronger than you imagine.”

Lin Mo used the menu on his visor to send out his current health indicators. The Dragon General had a physiological data monitoring module that could automatically keep track of health metrics.

“Yasha”’s left wrist vibrated lightly. When he looked down and saw the readouts, his expression changed as he finally gave up trying to contend with Lin Mo.

Lin Mo’s physical metrics were even better than “Yasha”’s, and if a fight broke out, “Yasha” might be the one to be knocked down.

Indeed, Lin Mo was a former elite selected for astronaut training; his physical fitness alone surpassed that of any soldier king. Not to mention in the air, even on the ground, he was a formidable warrior.

Everyone knew Lin Mo’s combat capabilities were not weak among military high-ups, but they wouldn’t truly assign him to ground combat. During several operations, the “Night” combat squadrons only let Lin Mo accompany them for combat tasks as a sniper, keeping him at a safe distance from the frontline; they dared not let him charge alongside them.

Unless all the soldier kings were wiped out, no one would be foolish enough to waste Lin Mo’s potential; his true value lay in executing aerial combat missions.

“We’re going back!”

“Yasha” waved to the “Demon Hunter” soldiers carrying the stretcher. He gave up, partly because he was wary of Lin Mo’s “Dragon General,” which was a more advanced tactical equipment than the “Demon Hunter” squad.

The medical personnel provided by the organizers exchanged glances in surprise, as if they were astounded that Lin Mo was unharmed.

Finally, someone realized the significance of Lin Mo’s unique physical condition.

No one would believe “Yasha” was being reckless with lives; it was confidence, and instantly, the way they looked at Lin Mo changed.

Given how fiercely the battles had gone, it was astonishing that he still had strength left. The perceived physical disadvantages of the Asian race compared to Europeans seemed to have been reversed during this Death Team Battle; soon after, this news spread among those in the know, but it was uncertain whether it would be good or bad.

The Saudi royal princesses were sharpening their knives, perhaps some factions were considering using beautiful agents or spies.

About two hours later, the three Flying Wolves and three light combat-powered armors safely returned, followed by several large transport helicopters, one of which seemed to carry captured spoils of war.

It was unclear which unfortunate country’s kid had been taken advantage of by the Chinese soldiers.

The powerful weapons sent from the homeland had been skillfully utilized; the “Demon Hunter” squad and a newly added “Bai Qi” squad did not return battered and near collapse like in their previous battle.

Aside from a few minor injuries and some unimportant damages, everyone and their battle gear returned to the hangar in perfect condition.

The Ya Zi-2 descended from fifteen meters in the air on the battlefield, unleashing a deadly combination of missiles, rockets, and the Vulcan Cannon, becoming a fearsome weapon of mass destruction. Its aggressive presence sent shivers down the spines of all competitors, instantly turning it into a grim reaper of lives.

The light combat-powered armor, Ya Zi-2, demonstrated performance on the sand dunes that even surpassed tanks. Not only did it possess heavy firepower, but it also showed exceptional adaptability to the terrain. With various weapons at its disposal, it could strike from any distance within the attack radius of the Ya Zi-2.

The three Ya Zi-2 units nearly swept through everything in the dunes, leaving many who tried to scavenge for cheap deals from the Chinese regretting their foolishness.

The Chinese had a no-mercy approach to combat, leaving no opportunity for surrender. Some forces mistakenly believed they were facing Americans, as the style of combat mirrored the classic American approach, overwhelming opponents with firepower until there was nothing left.

However, this time, the returning team did not package all their spoils like in previous battles. The scope of the team battle was too extensive, and aside from Lin Mo’s X-1 Forward-Swept Wing Fighter Jet, there were scattered remains of 31 aircraft across the desert. With such little combat power and carrying capacity, they couldn’t possibly collect everything—it was like trying to bail out a sinking ship with a cup of water.

Due to the widespread distribution of wreckage, they couldn’t re-establish alliances with participants from the government army. Most teams in the government army were hastily racing to recover their aircraft wrecks, making collaboration rare.

The three Flying Wolf attack teams could only focus on the most important and nearest scraps, while other, more distant targets remained beyond reach.

The point tally from the Abyss Nirvana competition came out quickly, and Lin Mo gained both points and prize money.

During the Death Team Battle, while the missiles that hit enemy aircraft were not fired by Lin Mo, he had assisted in directing them, allowing him to share in the hit points.

In battle, it was a matter of accumulating points; you bring down mine, I bring down yours. The points of the defeated transferred continually until they landed on Lin Mo and Yuri. Though it was Lin Mo who took down the final boss, "Eagle King," according to the team battle principles, Yuri was entitled to a share of the points.

This way, Yuri, instead of being cautious, threw himself into cooperation and benefitted from Lin Mo’s success, earning a noteworthy amount of points. While his confirmed kills didn’t leap into the high tier directly, they reached a solid intermediate fourth tier, a step away from high tier status.

With just one more confirmed kill, Yuri could successfully graduate to a high-tier participant.

Before the battle, Lin Mo had just moved up from the novice tier to the intermediate ace tier, but by becoming the ultimate victor of the Death Team Battle, he collected over eleven thousand competition points and stepped into the quasi-high-tier rank. With such standing, many would surely be envious.

If it weren’t for the fact that the accumulated kill counts in the competition couldn’t be transferred based on battle outcomes, Lin Mo’s performance in the Death Team Battle could have pushed him to an extraordinarily intimidating height.

Even so, Number 13 had already become synonymous with invincibility in the intermediate tier, causing many European and American participants to wear expressions that suggested they expected nothing less.

The number 13! Among Europeans and Americans, it has never represented anything auspicious; the Asian man clearly aimed to bring them misfortune.

Nearly half of the participants in the anti-government forces began to ponder how they would react if they encountered Lin Mo in the upcoming battles: would they decisively withdraw from the competition or charge in to meet their demise?

Engaging in such a losing game would be a foolish choice.

This scenario was extremely rare in the history of the Abyss Nirvana international pilot death match; it was akin to placing a tiger among a flock of sheep.

Even the special tier participants were not his match. A killer like him remained in the intermediate tier was akin to drawing a death sentence for the anti-government forces’ intermediate tier.

There were still some pilots who held onto a glimmer of hope, dreaming they could take down this intermediate rank participant who had over ten thousand points, thinking that the points would all be theirs if successful.

Not only anti-government participants had such ideas; even some from the government army were scheming nasty plans, thinking how they could form teams and possibly fire behind the scenes without anyone catching on.

If Lin Mo were in the special tier, fewer would be tempted to plot against him; however, he remained in the intermediate tier, which amounted to "the common man is innocent but suffers for holding wealth."

There would always be those with lucky thoughts, trying to take a wild bite, regardless of whether they managed to get a taste or ended up with broken teeth.

Of course, they didn’t consider who Lin Mo’s main guardian was—known as "Grandet," a figure who, once turned into a cash cow, could shift from one extreme to another.

“Don’t ask anything, just change it all!”

Holding Lin Mo’s points card, he approached the point redemption center in the mission center and faced the standard smiling staff of the organizers, sliding a large stack of A-4 paper redemption lists across the counter.

Finally, "Grandet" had the opportunity to start shaking things up.