Chapter 1309 - 425: Democracy Cannon and Democracy Fist! (Part 3)

Chapter 1309: Chapter 425: Democracy Cannon and Democracy Fist! (Part 3)

So he came up with an idea and simply drove all the surrounding civilians to the building’s ground floor. As long as the opponent dared to attack, these cannon fodder downstairs would die horribly, deterring the opponent from acting recklessly.

The rest is just to buy time.

The United Kingdom backs Havana, and Germany is behind the Camaguey Republic. Before the fire spread here, Germany was just watching.

But the strength shown by Horizon Corporation has exceeded everyone’s psychological defenses.

If you’re already this formidable before growing, imagine what you’d be like after taking over Cuba and developing!

The cake is already small, and no one wants to see a second Military Technology emerge.

With the current level of defeat, Germany can’t sit still; reinforcements might already be on the way.

"Report."

The guard at the door knocks and reminds.

"Come in."

Dosse glances up and then lowers his head again.

"What’s the matter?"

The guard whispers.

"Those peasants are causing trouble, saying they have nothing to eat. I’m worried this might escalate into chaos. Should we take some supplies to appease them?"

"Take some? Are our supplies abundant?"

Dosse finds the guard’s question quite amusing.

"If you have the time, you’d better find out what those damned bastards are up to behind the scenes!"

"So...just leave those people be?"

Dosse sneers.

"Why bother with them? If they do get hungry, isn’t there plenty around to eat?"

Not that he cared before, and now he’s even less concerned about their lives.

The guard dared not ask further, fearing he too would be thrown to the lower floors. He quickly withdrew from the room.

"Fool."

Dosse cursed at the departing guard, then stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, observing the rising smoke below.

The enemy is strong.

But Colonel Dosse still can’t understand the opponent’s logic.

If these people attacked without restraint, he’d soon be defeated under their onslaught. But instead, they proceed cautiously, deliberately avoiding civilian areas with their strikes.

Even after taking a town, rather than pursue retreating troops, they divert already sparse forces to transport those peasants to the port.

Why?

Can all this effort be just for human trafficking?

Dosse harbors some doubts, striving to think of other possibilities.

He doesn’t believe these people are actually brainwashed super soldiers as rumors suggest.

If they had this technology, fighting anywhere but Cuba would be more fruitful.

His gaze sweeps past the glass wall and across the streets, suddenly drawn to a statue in Revolution Square at the town center.

It’s a bearded man with bright eyes; anyone raised in Cuba knows his name.

Faced directly with the statue’s eyes, Dosse feels as if the stone eyes are staring at him.

"Che Guevara..."

Dosse quietly recites the man’s name in his mind. For Dosse’s generation, he’s just a fairy tale; reality is brutal.

Yet at this moment, a sudden eerie sensation rises from his tailbone.

Che Guevara...

Che Guevara!

No! No! No! This can’t be!

Even Dosse finds these thoughts absurdly laughable.

But an unexplainable fear envelops him; the statue’s gaze seems a colossal net trapping Dosse, sinking him further within.

No matter how he tries to escape, there’s no way out.

This fear nearly consumes him whole. Terrified, Dosse staggers back until hitting the table edge, stumbling to the ground.

Suddenly, a flash ignites in the distant slum area within his sight.

The initial sesame-sized flash swiftly expands to fist-size within seconds. The air defense system identifies it as an attack rocket, but due to the close distance, the interceptor missiles can’t reach it. That truck-sized projectile heads straight for the Sun Mansion.

It precisely hits Dosse’s office.

The over two-meter-wide flight pod collides with the reinforced glass wall, shattering it instantly. The metal pod crashes violently into the building, reinforced alloy casing unable to be stopped by non-load-bearing structures of these composite panels.

The tremendous impact makes the entire building tremble; soldiers and civilians below mistakenly think enemy troops are shelling the building, resulting in endless screams and panic.

Among everyone, the most panicked undoubtedly is Dosse.

He’s in his office on the second floor; the projectile enters from the first floor, but the intense vibration causes the floor above to collapse, burying him.

After struggling to push away the debris covering him and standing up from the rubble, he hears coughing sounds.

"Cough, cough, cough! Damn it, this thing is completely unreliable; my prosthetic body is nearly shook apart..."

"Stop talking, I think flying would’ve been better... I should find time to steal another plane... Ugh!!!"

"If I find out who dropped me... Ugh...let him be prepared for daily firing from now on... Ugh...."

"Boss... actually... Ugh...."

Dosse hears these voices, thinking either he’s gone mad with split personas or God is manifesting.

But upon closer look, six figures emerge visible amid the swirling dust. They attempt to wave aside the clouds obscuring them, stepping through ruins to appear before Dosse.