ঊনসত্তর অধ্যায়: একজন পরিচিত মুখ

এক দিক from to, tang yunyang's eager participation in the war was partly because of mike long, who not only held his identity but also the core secrets of the china revival party.

if mike long, under certain circumstances, had no choice but to leak his identity.

tang yunyang understood that today, with europe blazing in the fires of war, he would become a secret weapon fought over by various nations. although he already possessed a small sphere of influence, it was completely insignificant compared to these major powers.

by that time, in such a vast world, there would surely be no place left for tang yunyang to hide.

so what was mike long's fate? was he dead?

of course not!

when the airplane caught fire, the nose section, including the cockpit, was already engulfed in the thick, pungent black smoke of burning gasoline. scorching tongues of flame spewed out from beside the instrument panel, making a hissing sound.

"oh god... alright, i won't do anything foolish... won't do anything foolish..."

mike long, shot in the thigh, struggled mightily. he first unbuckled the safety belt that secured him to the seat, struggled to lift his body, and flipped head over heels out of the smoke-filled cockpit.

he had tang yunyang and his own mike prince company to thank for this, as they had installed rescue parachutes on the allied airplanes.

as usual, when the earth rushed toward him at breakneck speed like a thick green wall, mike long shouted to god with his trembling voice, well-suited for preaching.

"god save me..."

"swish."

amidst the friction of fabric, the static line attached to the airplane was designed precisely to help pilots who had fainted from injuries.

it was more than twenty meters long. if a pilot left the airplane by a considerable distance without opening the parachute, this rope would save their lives.

the static line pulled out the pilot chute, followed by a strong tug that drew the main parachute out from the pack worn on the back. the powerful inertia was transmitted through the suspension lines to the unconscious mike long, giving him a brief moment of lucidity. he joyfully discovered that he was still alive.

"god, i... i fucking love you so much, if only you could stop the bleeding from my thigh!"

in the cold winter, mike long cheered and thanked god with disrespectful language, while simultaneously making more requests to the almighty. this showed just how greedy a man who loved money above all else could be.

after crawling out of his airplane and finding safety, mike long looked up anxiously, terrified that some malicious german pilot might swoop down to take his life.

his fall did not stop the dogfight raging in the sky. numerous airplanes buzzed around like bees whose hive had been invaded by a bear, engaging in chaotic gunfire in the heavens.

what pleased mike long was that the battle in the sky was leaning in favor of the allied forces.

thanks to new equipment, new airplanes, machine gun synchronization gear, standard aviation ammunition belts, plywood anti-collision helmets, and parachutes, the courage of the allied pilots had soared.

the german fokker e monoplanes no longer possessed their former majesty. just as they had done a short time ago, they were continuously being hit and shot down by allied aircraft.

compared to the allied pilots, they were not so lucky; after all, they lacked anti-collision helmets and parachutes.

most of the pilots in the fokker e planes either committed suicide inside their burning aircraft or died from violent head impacts during emergency landings.

moreover, the mission objective—to intercept german bombing airships—had largely been accomplished. right at that moment, an airship was burning amidst the bullet trails of several allied newport 11 aircraft, which looked like a rain of fire. this was the result of the alternating arrangement of armor-piercing bullets and incendiary tracer bullets in the standard aviation ammunition.

armor-piercing bullets could pierce the hydrogen-filled containers, while tracer bullets filled with white phosphorus and tracer compounds ignited the mixture of hydrogen and air.

the gigantic fireball emitted massive amounts of light and heat in the sky, forcing mike long to turn his face away from the glare. yet, amidst this, he witnessed a scene that should not have occurred during an aerial battle.

of course, the german pilots, being equally brave knights of the air, were not without their own achievements. several parachutes were now drifting in the air. but then, a terrifying thing happened: several german fokker es, perhaps blinded by rage, charged toward them.

tongues of flame spewing from their noses easily tore through the pilots' bodies. in mike long's sight, the helpless bodies of his comrades twisted in the cold air, soon hanging motionless.

"bastards... what are you doing... you bastards... bastards..."

mike long shouted curses at the top of his lungs in the freezing air, losing his mind. however, he did not know that someone was already beginning to worry about him.

"you fool, don't you know that playing dead is a much better option for you right now?"

this was the german pilot who had shot mike long down from the sky. he had black hair and yellow eyes, and his handsome face often won the favor of young maidens.

after graduating from flight school in 1915, he had resolved to become the most famous fighter pilot. in 1917, for his bravery in combat, he was awarded three medals. the following year, he received the highest military medal and took command of the german air force's elite richtofen fighter wing.

this man was hermann göring, an acquaintance—just an acquaintance to tang yunyang, who was familiar with the history of the world wars. young as he was, he was not yet any kind of nazi air force hero.

at this time, hermann göring was merely a twenty-three-year-old ambitious young man determined to become an eagle in the blue skies, possessing the spirit of the teutonic knights who had once ruled europe.

in his heart, he held utter contempt for the actions of those colleagues who shot at parachuting allied pilots, and he vowed not to let anyone touch his prisoners.

especially since he had been watching the pilot of that newport 11 he had shot down; the pilot's stylish "spring maneuver" that had shot down two planes of his own side had filled the young göring with admiration.

sure enough, amidst hermann göring's scolding and mike long's unwise flailing, a german plane was drawn toward mike long.

this airplane had just escaped the pursuit of an allied aircraft and was in the middle of a climb when it happened to encounter the cursing mike long, making him a convenient punching bag.

at first, it just circled around mike long. after one circle, it turned its nose around. behind the machine gun at the nose was a cold, mocking smile.

"my god!"

mike long was dumbfounded. he still had a considerable distance to fall to the ground, and right now the only thing he could do was die in this desolate sky amidst prayers to god.

the german pilot slightly tightened his jaw, his two eyes fixed intently on mike long through the gunsight. as the distance between them closed, he was fully confident that his target would immediately become a victory symbol painted on his airplane.

with a sneer, he pulled the trigger.