Just as he was admiring the masterpiece he had single-handedly created, an unexpected troublemaker appeared to ruin his moment of triumph.
Wang Hu glanced at the radar in his cockpit, then turned his gaze toward the direction of several new blips that had appeared.
"That voice sounds familiar," Wang Hu muttered, recognizing the tone with a faint sense of recollection.
"Oh, it's you guys."
Realization dawned on Wang Hu as he greeted the approaching GINN units through the open comms channel.
"The GINN from that Laurasia-class battleship that tried to bypass the Nova Resource Satellite before."
"So, was the ship I just sunk the same one from earlier?"
"You Coordinators sure work fast on repairs."
He casually tossed out a few taunts. Even though Wang Hu no longer piloted the Moebius and had switched to the Qilin, he never missed an opportunity to get under his enemies' skin.
Cautious by nature, Wang Hu didn't mind wasting a few words if it meant even the slightest advantage.
"It's you!"
The moment they heard that unforgettable voice, Josie and Matsutaro, who were charging forward, instantly recalled the tragic image of their fallen leader, Captain Taylor.
Against the backdrop of their burning battleship and countless comrades desperately fleeing in escape pods, Wang Hu stood like a demonic overlord presiding over a scene of utter devastation.
Fueled by both old grudges and fresh hatred, Josie, Matsutaro, and the remaining members of Taylor's squad lunged at Wang Hu with bloodshot eyes.
"Die, you monster! The one who killed Captain Taylor and slaughtered countless of our people!"
Their furious shouts echoed through the comms as all four GINN units raised their heavy machine guns in unison.
A torrent of bullets, streaked with tracer rounds, lashed out like glowing whips. The four brilliant yet deadly streams wove together into a net of destruction, flashing toward Wang Hu.
"A hero to his own nation, a scourge to ours."
With the grace of a ballet dancer and the agility of a spirit dancing in the rain, Wang Hu deftly maneuvered the Qilin through the enemy's relentless barrage, composing a crisp symphony of evasion.
Compared to the mass-produced, stopgap Moebius, the Qilin's performance was leaps and bounds ahead. Maneuvers that once required Wang Hu to strain every nerve—even with the aid of the multi-barrel Vulcan Cannons—now came effortlessly.
To the enemy's shock, the Qilin emerged unscathed, effortlessly closing the distance to enter optimal firing range for its Beam Cannon Pods.
"Wired controls still can't compare to wireless," Wang Hu grumbled, unsatisfied despite his overwhelming advantage.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Three shots, three kills—adding another trio of GINN units to Wang Hu's ever-growing tally.
"Impossible!"
Matsutaro, the sole survivor of the initial assault, could hardly believe his eyes. The memory of Wang Hu piloting the Moebius and engaging them just hours ago was still fresh in his mind.
Yet in such a short time, his skills had soared to this terrifying level!
"Demon… I'll kill you!"
Having lost his comrades one after another, Matsutaro's mental endurance finally snapped.
Squad Leader Tyler was dead, teammate Mitt was dead.
Comrades who had vowed to avenge them had now perished one after another before his very eyes.
At this moment, Matsutaro wished more than anything that he had been the one to die. If he continued to survive by sheer luck...
How could he possibly face the families of his fallen comrades next?
"Pathetic."
Watching the enemy who had lost all will to live, charging recklessly towards certain death with no semblance of tactics.
Wang Hu shook his head sorrowfully and detached four beam cannon pods.
He granted them merciful kindness—sending these enemies to reunite with their departed comrades!
"Boom."
Flames erupted as fireballs blossomed across the cosmic backdrop.
Turning his mobile suit around, Wang Hu paid no further attention to the explosions behind him.
Because this was war. War could be right or wrong, but pure warriors were blameless!
Whether killers or killed, they were merely fulfilling their duty.
Apart from those warmongering fanatics, soldiers were actually the ones who yearned most for peace.
From then on, Wang Hu fought without further turmoil.
Methodically, he piloted the Qilin, clearing out Coordinator warships one after another.
Occasionally dispatching any foolhardy MS GINN that dared provoke the tiger.
Time flowed steadily until no enemy ships or mobile suits remained in sight.
"Victory?"
"Have we won?"
In the East Asian Army's internal comms, after the gunfire faded, tentative inquiries emerged.
Brave warriors emerged from their tense emotions, momentarily unable to believe.
The goddess of victory had finally lifted her skirt for them.
"Victory! Victory!"
After another pause, excited cheers finally erupted.
Only then did all East Asian forces on this battlefield fully confirm—
They had achieved undeniable victory here.
They had defeated those Coordinators who'd won life's race from birth through technology.
Defeated the Coordinators who'd suffocated the Allied Forces since the war began.
Defeated the Coordinators who'd previously required horrific sacrifices just to maintain battle lines.
The myth of Coordinator invincibility was officially shattered.
Because this wasn't some minor skirmish—it was a battle worthy of being called a campaign!
Even if Coordinators might quibble, claiming East Asian forces won through numerical advantage.
"Report to rear command! Report to General Zheng!"
The fleet commander for this battlefield, brimming with restrained excitement, addressed his adjutant.
"At 21:47 on June 17, CE70, after over four hours of combat, our Nova Resource Satellite First Assault Fleet—"
"Thanks to our warriors' heroic efforts—has successfully completed phase one offensive operations."
"The enemy ZAFT left flank fleet has been completely annihilated!"
"Victory belongs to the entire army! Victory belongs to East Asia!"
"Yes sir!" The usually stern adjutant nearly skipped toward the communicator, unable to contain his excitement.
He would personally deliver this tremendous news to rear command.
Share this joyous report with all their comrades.
"Wait." Suddenly the commander called his adjutant back.
"What is it?"
The adjutant, who had just picked up the communication device, looked at his superior in confusion.
"Inform headquarters that our forces will immediately turn toward the Central Battle Group to reinforce our allies there."
"This...?" The adjutant hesitated at the order, a stark contrast to his earlier efficiency.
"Do you think that because we've claimed the first victory of this campaign, we shouldn't interfere with the Central Battle Group's affairs?"
"Or do you believe our fellow troops would resent us for potentially diminishing their share of glory?"
With just a glance at his adjutant, the commander had already discerned nearly all of his subordinate's thoughts.
The adjutant offered an awkward smile, admitting he might have overthought things—but what if...
"There is no 'what if.'"
The commander's gaze shifted to the battlefield ahead, observing the soldiers still cheering in victory.
His profound eyes lingered particularly on the dust floating in space.
How many of his own men were among those particles?
Not long ago, they had been living, breathing individuals.
Now... their flesh and blood would remain eternally entombed here.
Following his commander's gaze, the adjutant's excitement evaporated.
Seeing what his commander saw, his mood grew heavy, and he cast aside his petty concerns.
Into the communicator, the adjutant first relayed their intention to support the Central Battle Group.
Only then did he report the news of their victory here.
Soon after, congratulations arrived from headquarters, along with high praise for their initiative in aiding the Central Battle Group.
Not long after headquarters' message, the Central Battle Group's commander also made contact.
They expressed immense gratitude for the reinforcements.
They also provided a detailed report on the battlefield situation to better inform their allies of the overall picture.
"See?" The commander said to his adjutant after ending the communication.
"Unity and cooperation are our army's eternal tradition. Standing idly by while allies are in trouble?"
"If we don't achieve victory, who else can!"
(End of chapter)