Counterfeit Hero

Chapter 1415: Chapter 112: Melee_3

The whole bar was steeped in a kind of boisterous cheer. Men were talking loud, even arguing, teasing the fiery waitresses, clinking glasses with each other. In here, nobody bothered thinking about the shadow of war. Life soaked in alcohol and cigars became easy and carefree.

Every time someone raised a glass, the bar would erupt with a neat, unified toast.

"To hell with the Western Alliance!"

What followed was raucous, unrestrained laughter.

Right then, by the window, a handsome young Silliac Federation officer with short brown hair was straddling his chair backwards. A beer in his left hand, his right arm draped over the chair back propping up his chin, he turned with a grin to the buddies beside him. "Hey, guys, you heard? The first Twelfth-Generation mass‑production Mecha is already off the line."

The officers who had just sat down, eyes eagerly sweeping the bar hall as they waited for the next "show," were instantly hooked by the brown‑haired officer’s topic and all turned back around.

"Off the line already?"

"I heard that too."

"I heard the new Mecha isn’t Thunderbolt anymore, that true?"

Amid the chorus of questions, the brown‑haired officer glanced out the window and clicked his tongue. "You guys really don’t know? The new Mecha’s named ’Rampage.’ The name was personally given by the bandit army’s General Tian."

Outside the window, the massive bandit army base lay sprawled like some crouching beast, constantly roaring with noise.

Heavy trucks and Transport Mecha wove along the base roads, while squads of bandit army officers and troops in blue uniforms marched past along the sides. At the base gate, two teal "Rangers" stood in solemn guard. It was just that that Fatty‑style silhouette looked ridiculous however you saw it. Nearby, several stern, impeccably groomed Sentries were checking the papers of incoming vehicles and personnel.

"Rampage?" A shorter officer slapped the table and praised, "That name’s badass."

"Badass is badass," a Lieutenant Colonel from the Ake Democratic Federation, the largest Fei Alliance Member Country in the west, curled his lip, "I’m just not sure if that bunch of ’legends’ can really rampage on the battlefield like they strut around here."

The officers exchanged a strange look and all snickered to themselves. They knew this Lieutenant Colonel from the Ake Federation and his unit had just come over from Akasa Base. Not knowing how ruthless the bandit army was, they’d gotten into a fight with a few bandit soldiers a few days ago. The result, needless to say...

The Lieutenant Colonel, who’d clearly been in the wrong, had been chewed out by his superiors until his dog’s blood was splattered all over the floor, and had only just been let out of the brig. If he hadn’t been the division commander’s golden boy, he could forget about sitting here drinking today.

In wartime armies, brawling is basically routine. Especially in bars outside the camp—one harsh word and fists fly, which then snowball into full‑on mass brawls, nothing unusual at all. They’re all men who live with their heads on their belts; nobody takes this sort of thing seriously. A moment ago they might have been going at it hammer and tongs, the next minute they’re arm‑in‑arm drinking together.

If even a single nation’s army is like that, no need to mention this huge camp packed with troops from over twenty different Fei Alliance countries. If there weren’t some crap like this kicking off every day, that’d be what’s really abnormal.

Since the bandit army moved into the base, the place had never been peaceful for a single day. Never mind the glorious feat of thrashing the Feiyang 31st Army when they first arrived—just talking about these past few days, has there been a day those bandits didn’t get into a scrap with someone?

Quite a few of the officers in this bar had already gone a few rounds with the bandit army. And oddly enough, after the fighting was done, a lot of them ended up becoming friends with those bandits. Of course, that only applied to countries that had close ties with the bandit army. As for troops from nations that needed to keep their distance, just mentioning the bandit army was enough to make them grind their teeth.

And just like that, the whole base ended up split into factions.

The ones siding with Hastings and the bandit army were mostly countries from the Southeast Star Domain and a bunch of little "belong‑to‑no‑one" states. While a group of nations led by the Ryan Republic had now stepped into Leefer’s camp. On the surface, everyone was still Allies—not to the point of all‑out brawls, much less mortal enemies—but their diverging stances still kept the base thick with gunpowder.

Still, one way or another, from initial contempt, to later mystery, to now familiarity and even awe, the trouble‑making bandit army had just naturally blended into this massive military camp.

That said, when it came to those bastards from the bandit army, the brothers here were still seriously pissed.

By rights, a lot of the bandit army were civilian Mech Knights from Mars; they were decent enough piloting Mecha, but in hand‑to‑hand fighting they ought to be nothing more than side dishes to go with the booze. Sure, they also had a fair number of Leray Special Soldiers and some pretty capable Mars Mercenary Army guys mixed in. But looking at overall strength, there was no damn way they should be winning every damn fight.

Yet somehow, those bastards just kept winning big when it was a big fight, and winning small when it was a small one. To the point where in this base, the moment someone mentioned brawling with the bandit army, everyone started sweating at the temples.

The reason was simple: those bandits didn’t give a rat’s ass about rules or honor. Tripping people, sucker‑punching from behind, clinging on like leeches—when the wind was at their back they all swarmed in, cocky as hell; when things went against them, they turned tail and ran without a shred of shame. And that’s not even the worst of it—what was really infuriating was how damn dirty their strikes were: everything was low blows, going for the crotch, absolutely despicable.

All this time, not a single person who’d fought them had come out on the winning end.

Later on, once everyone got more familiar and asked about it, they finally learned that, putting aside the Leray soldiers and Mercenary Army in the bandit ranks, even that bunch of rookie civilian Mech Knights from Mars had already gone through training back home. They might not be on par with Special Soldiers, but their hands and feet were still more than a little nasty. That pitiful, helpless act they put on? Total bullshit.

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