Chapter 134: Fighting Aswan again (1)

The night sky of the sinister wasteland began to become completely dark with the arrival of the night. This is a night without moon and stars. There is a cloud in the sky and an uneasy breath floating in the air. There seems to be something stupid.
The drunkard boss pressed the telescope on his face. The shrimp-made tool was like a tiny toy in Oke's hands. The drunkard squeezed his scarred face into a ball and squinted. The other end of the telescope.
Thick fingers clumsily lay on the smooth metal rim, a growl in the throat emerged from the messy fangs, and he twisted the lens again, which gave him a way to throw the telescope to the ground with iron The urge to step on the boots was bad, but he was very difficult to resist his desire to destroy.
Finally, the green-skinned boss found the focal length he wanted. The black world around him was a space glowing with green shimmer in his eyes. As he had always believed, the night belonged to Ok.
A humble voice disturbed the rotten alcoholic's thoughts and seemed to be asking what he saw.
He didn't turn his head to see which guy had issued such a problem, but directly grabbed the pistol in his waist and threw it hard to the position where the sound came out, and a painful moan immediately sounded.
The rotten drinker made them all shut up, it was a very strict order, but he had to do it.
He looked through the telescope and swept through the solid defenses of the shrimps, barbed wire, straight fortresses and complex tunnels. These are things he needs to pay attention to when he moves his eyes from the ground to the field guns on the top of the fortress , I snorted immediately, these are valuable bombardments, and the mechanics should send them some useful fields.
When he saw the Shrimp Sentinel moving through the barbed wire and the tunnel, his face became distorted, revealing a cruel smile.
The rotten alcoholic carefully observed their walking route, where they touched and where they stopped. When he needed them, these memories would become simple lines and graphics. It was this talent that made him a legion. The best scout leader.
With a satisfied grunt, the rotten drunk put down the binoculars and handed it over to a clever butt-skinny hand.
After receiving the binoculars, the fart immediately put it in the backpack he carried. The rotten drunk looked at the fart with some surprise. Although he was trembling, the fart still stood upright and saluted him.
Their legions are like this from top to bottom, and they have been blamed by other legions for this matter.
The rotten drunk suddenly grabbed the buttocks and threw its smooth bone helmet into the sand. The buttocks hurried to chase the helmet, causing a rude laugh from the surrounding Oaks.
"All right!"
The drunkard glanced at them, and then fixed his gaze on a kid under his control. This guy named Bruchet was stupid enough to complete his plan well.
"Remember! Take a few guys and go over there! Shoot the bullet in the gun!"
The boss of Oak took the kid's coat and dragged him to himself, so that he could speak the command in the lowest possible voice.
Bruchet turned away from the rotten drunkard. It called several companions. Before the boss explained the details, they completely disappeared in the direction of the rotten drunkard.
The rotten drunk watched them disappear in the shadows, and a cunning light flashed in his eyes. He touched his belt and pulled out a piece of tattered leather underneath. He tore the tormented thing with his clumsy hands. Shape it into a shape that is almost the same as before, and then put it on the bare head.
It was so pitiful that it could only cover a small piece on the top of his head. This hat was not suitable for him, but the meaning it represented was different.
This was the last time the rotten drunk attacked this place from a corpse of a shrimp boss. This shrimp in a coat tried to kill his younger brother by shooting to stop them from escaping, and then he was killed by the rotten drunk. 'S coat became a tattered coat now worn by the rotten drunkard.
He glanced at the boys behind him, and then laughed, obviously they understood what they meant.
The rotten alcoholic turned around and his hole-filled coat hunted in the night wind of the wasteland. He did not look back at his little brothers this time because he knew that they were the best scouts in the legion, and the kingdom was the most A group of disciplined warriors, even if he ordered them to follow him into Skugger's mouth, they would keep up.
In the darkness, dozens of green-skinned actions are like wind and soundless.
They also pinched their time when they reached the barbed wire. The rotten drunk pressed his chips to his vision. Their boots were dyed red. Even the lowest-class fart knows that red things are better than others. The color is fast.
The big green skin squatted beside the barbed wire netting, his eyes watching the surrounding terrain, he could only see the flashing lights in the fortress vaguely, or that was just the mouth of the soldier who smoked the cold in the cold night Faint light.
Rotten Alcohol stared at the darkness further away, wondering how far Bruchet and his friends had gone~EbookFREE.me~ They should have just entered the barbed wire area now, watching the Shrimp Patrol carefully avoiding the line of defense On the verge of action, the rotten drinker can be sure that there must be something annoying waiting for Bruchet.
Boom~~~!
It didn't take long for the deafening sound of explosives to sound in the dark night, the rotten alcoholic smiled all over his face, and Bruchete they encountered some mines.
Suddenly, the line of defense in front of the green skin began to move, and the soldiers ran along the edge of the tunnel to the nearest location to the minefield.
The darkness disappeared as the heavy searchlights ignited, the tidy rifles gradually roared, and the light artillery also made a slow roar that shook the ground, and more mines were in them when Bruchette wanted to retreat Ringing around.
"Quick! Don't rub it!"
The rotten alcoholic waved his machete, pointed in the direction of the trench, roared at his soldiers, incited the crazy boys, and turned their desire for battle into bloodthirsty anger, he almost forgot to remind his soldiers We have a strategy behind their goals.
They came here not only for chopping shrimp, the king needed information about the fulcrum of shrimp defense, and the scouts brought this information back to him.
waaaaaaaaagh! !
Like violent beasts, these boys crossed the rotten drunk and rushed to the shrimp defense line. The rotten drunk saw the nearest bunker turning their weapons to the direction of the charged scout.
Dada Dada~!
The first short shots of the revolver machine guns flew, because they were aiming at the direction of the edge of the barbed wire before, and it took time to correct the aiming.
Just when the machine gun finally adjusted its direction, the drunkard also jumped into the trench.
Don’t be stingy if you have a ticket! ! The collection of life and death can not rush to 3000 good eggs...