Chapter 1375
Do you understand the value of a global alliance?
Norma are actually quite nice.
At least Cui Ming thought they were all good girls.
After all, they can pilot mechs to help fight monsters and aliens.
On the battlefield, they piloted Para-mail, swooping down from the clouds, their beam cannons precisely tearing apart the wings of monsters, their metal fists mercilessly smashing the armor of aliens. The skills they had once used to fight dragons in Alzenar were now being used to protect the skies above this land, swift, decisive, and without the slightest hesitation.
With Ibuki-senpai's help in upgrading weapons, killing some weaker monsters shouldn't be a problem.
And for these once pitiful yet resilient girls...
All Cui Ming could say was that he would try his best to make their lives better and then cheer them up.
He would give them an extra serving of meat in the canteen, hand them a bottle of water after training, and sit outside their doors silently when they had nightmares. He never mentioned their past traumas, never emphasized their special circumstances, and simply treated them calmly as ordinary soldiers and ordinary girls.
As a result, these Norma women started treating Choi Mink as both their husband and father.
In the lounge, a Norma sat on the sofa with her knees drawn up to her chest. When she saw Choi Myung pass by, her eyes lit up instantly, like a fledgling bird waiting to be fed. Another Norma, after training, naturally handed him her towel, her movements as practiced as a daughter spoiling her child at home. Someone else in the cafeteria even put the vegetables they didn't like from their plate into his bowl, muttering, "Lord Choi Myung needs a balanced diet," their tone full of matter-of-fact concern.
This matter actually caused Cui Ming a lot of distress.
He stood in the corridor, looking at the red-haired figure waving at him, then at the blond figure next to him holding documents and looking expectant, and his lips twitched involuntarily.
Do I have some kind of fatherly aura?
He looked down at his hands, the hands that had just torn Gazort apart on the battlefield, now expected to be used to pat someone's head, to hand them water, and to soothe nightmares.
That doesn't make sense either!
He didn't hesitate at all to shoot the unruly child...
He recalled a scene from another world where a kid who tried to ambush him got his leg shot off. At that time, his eyes were as cold as ice, and he didn't even flinch.
But these Normas in front of him were clearly more troublesome and clingier than that brat, yet he couldn't bring himself to hurt them, or even say anything harsh.
Cui Ming sighed and drank the goji berry tea in his thermos in one gulp.
"...It's probably karma."
He muttered something under his breath, then turned and walked toward the training field, followed by a series of expectant footsteps.
The arrival of the Norma would bring even greater benefits.
Combat capabilities have been further enhanced.
These girls, who came from the world of EDF, not only brought Para-mail's piloting skills, but also the combat instincts honed through long-term battles with the dragons.
After they joined TPC's defense system, the aerial surveillance network immediately doubled in density.
The airspace that was originally defended only by the Victory Team and EDF ground forces is now patrolled by Norma pilots, and any enemy attempting to infiltrate through the ionosphere will be intercepted immediately.
As for the EDF world, the Norma have already helped train the Winged Stealth Soldiers on how to pilot their mechs.
Those soldiers who could only fight on the ground and advance using infantry tactics gradually mastered the skills of aerial maneuvering under the guidance of Norma and his men.
In fact, the combination of the Winged Stealth Soldier and the Norma's mechs is a perfect match.
The combat suits of the Flying Wing Infantry are equipped with short-distance gliding and emergency ejection capabilities, while the Norma Para-mail aircraft are designed with a quick ejection pod.
When the two are combined, if the mech is damaged in battle, the Winged Infiltrator can immediately eject and land safely using the gliding function of the combat suit, while the Norma can continue to control the same mech or transfer to a spare mech to rejoin the battle.
They can break free and continue fighting at any time!
This tactical coordination elevated the EDF's air combat capabilities to a new level.
Sergeant Gao Feng watched the demonstration on the training field and couldn't help but slap his thigh.
"Wow, that's a really tricky fighting style! If you can't beat them, just run away, then switch to another fight and exhaust those monsters!"
The Norma stood beside the machine, with faint smiles on their faces.
They have finally found their place.
They are not cannon fodder to be consumed on the battlefield, but warriors who are needed, respected, and capable of making a difference.
However, this tactic is indeed only usable by organizations like the EDF and TPC.
After all, it's like they're switching mechs all the time, as if it's free.
Para-mail aircraft typically last no more than ten minutes from takeoff to crash. Wings torn apart, armor pierced, thrusters billowing black smoke as they plummet to the ground. The pilot ejects, tracing a white arc across the sky. Ground crew, already waiting at the landing site, rush up, dragging the brand-new fuselage—paint still wet, fuel not yet fully loaded—and push it onto the launch rail. The pilot climbs in, fastens his seatbelt, the thrusters reignite, and he ascends once more into the sky stained crimson by gunfire.
This kind of fighting style would bankrupt any ordinary organization in a short time.
But both EDF and TPC are willing to spend money.
EDF's military budget comes from joint grants from various countries, plus the profits from reverse engineering of alien technology debris recovered during previous operations, which is sufficient to support this level of expenditure. In their warehouses, machine guns are piled up like mountains, and the parts production line runs day and night. If something breaks, it's replaced, and then they fight again, without any hesitation.
TPC was even more financially powerful. The special funds allocated to the five national liaison officers had no upper limit, and when Director Sawai approved the notes, his pen moved faster than signing a supermarket shopping list. In the ground support workshop, brand-new Para-mail aircraft were rolled out one after another, their paint jobs bright and their ammunition fully loaded, as if these steel behemoths were endlessly replicated on an assembly line.
On the training field, an aircraft, its wing struck by the monster's acid, crashed amidst black smoke. Less than three minutes later, ground crew brought in a replacement. The pilot climbed in, the thrusters ignited, and it took off again. The entire process was seamless, like a meticulously choreographed industrial dance.
The battle in the sky continued. One mech after another took off, only to crash down and be replaced by new ones. This relentless war of attrition, regardless of cost, left the opposing monsters completely bewildered. They had never seen such extravagant tactics, nor had they ever encountered an opponent who treated war like an assembly line operation.
When the last Para-mail aircraft ran out of ammunition, the pilot ejected, and a new fully-armed aircraft was in place, the monster finally let out a desperate wail.
This is not a battle.
This is crushing.
A crushing defeat built on money and industrial strength, a victory without any suspense. (End of Chapter)