Miss Beautiful C.E.O and her system

The terrorists felt bitter about the sudden turn of events. They hadn't expected the easy mission to turn into a Waterloo.

Since the beginning, the entire group hadn't spoken, communicating only through gestures. But now, they couldn't help it anymore. It was already shocking to see their comrades' lives snuffed out.

They had been having fun blowing up planes—at least, it was better than killing people in the terminal. Not everyone enjoyed slaughtering unarmed civilians. This mission was too cold-blooded, but an order was an order. Disobeying an order protected by human rights and international organizations?

First, they had to survive long enough to even reach the lawsuits and whatnot. Surely, people would already be dead before they could assert their innocence in court.

Sometimes, people didn't really have a choice—or maybe they did—between difficult and extremely difficult chances of survival.

Yes, they came from mixed ex-military backgrounds, waging wars for policies set above them. They had done the dirty work for national interests and more.

They had already factored in the reactions of the local military and police, but what was with the sudden appearance of an elite armed group out of the Airbus?

Did they just happen to run into mercenaries on a security mission? The initial engagement, lasting less than several seconds, had already caused massive casualties.

Morale immediately dipped. First, their biggest force multiplier was headshotted, followed by those who hadn't even reacted yet.

If not for their skills and quick reflexes, total squad annihilation would have been certain. Just as they cursed in their minds, determined to kill the attackers, another shock hammered their thoughts.

So many enemy operators—and they seemed to be special forces.

"Fuck, intel always fucks us up."

"Shut up! No English!"

"Who cares now? The situation is spiraling out of control. We can't leave evidence behind…"

Leaving evidence meant their bodies couldn't be found and investigated later.

From the sudden shift in events, they realized their original plan was already in shambles.

"What about the main mission?"

"Forget it, pal. The real question is whether our whole group will be wiped out without even bones left."

"Damn it, they're flanking us… Shoot them down!"

Despite the panic creeping into him, the leader radioed: "Actual, we have a problem. An unknown armed group is attacking us and interfering with the mission. Suggesting we fall back and cut our tails before we expose ourselves."

"Who are these guys? They're suppressing us completely."

"We should retreat. Sooner or later, we'll die if we lose the initiative."

As a black ops unit, their skills might not match Tier 1—or even Tier 2 in the worst case—but they had never been this humiliated before, even when surrounded by well-armed and trained Mujahideen groups.

They had no means of counterattack. Survival had become their bare minimum goal.

Shoot, move, and communicate—that maneuver warfare doctrine applied to all battlefields. Once they stalled, they lost mobility and were forced to follow their opponents' rhythm.

Like it or not, they subconsciously admitted they were inferior to the unknown special forces tearing through their formation.

Accurate fire, lethal suppression, and faster shoot-move-communicate tactics—executed with rapid, continuous precision as if rehearsed ten thousand or even a million times.

Only their black ops support from the national level could turn the tide. But black ops meant small tactical operations without assets that would raise massive red flags.

How could there possibly be appropriate air support without blatant exposure? Wouldn't that be stupidly admitting in front of the international stage that they were subtly responsible for the terrorist attack?

In contrast, Spirit Fox Team 2 fought to gain a wider angle and suppress the terrorists. From their battle positions, the operators gradually peeled to the left in an advanced maneuver in groups of two or three.

Opposite to a break contact drill, the bounding attack pressured the black ops members as whizzing rounds and pressurized miniature shockwaves forced them to cower.

Team 2 observed their enemies launching desperate moves—those in cover trying to blind-fire while those in direct contact, visible to Spirit Fox, poured out their ammunition regardless of logistical supply or danger because they truly had no choice.

Though the Spirit Fox girls weren't afraid, due to warnings from Ling Qingyu and Xiao Yue to avoid displaying out-of-the-ordinary behaviors, they dared not 'risk' their lives.

However, the competition for fire superiority was doomed to tilt in Team 2's favor. A short, desperate outburst meant nothing in the face of absolute firepower.

Sure enough, Spirit Fox gunned down a few terrorists who fled in disarray. Well, not entirely disarray, since a few covered their teammates, but accurate bullets still found their targets.

They tried to pause and return fire in sequence but were met with a ruthless barrage of projectiles.

Not to mention, snipers occupied the high ground. The fact that several terrorists managed to flee was attributed to their great luck and perhaps Spirit Fox's underestimation.

Leaving behind several bodies, the group escaped. The Team 2 leader barked an order, "Chase them! Bite their tail hard!"

"Roger!"

Team 2 operators passed over the bodies of the terrorists. A few delivered additional rounds to confirm kills before following their teammates.

Most appeared to have been shot from behind while running. Their covering tactics hadn't worked as they had hoped.

However, instead of being killed by Spirit Fox's flanking maneuver, some managed to escape behind the burning, damaged aircraft, which happened to have its lower frame skin in direct contact with the airfield surface.

The terrorists were once again pinned behind the aircraft, using it as cover against Spirit Fox Teams 2 and 3.

Their attempt to race toward the terminal failed miserably, thwarted by Team 3's support-by-fire network.

The distance was similar to a miniature no-man's land. Covering fire wouldn't work—they had already tested it.

The black ops were immediately pushed back. Now, they felt stuck again, exchanging helpless glances.

In military terms, they had already been overrun. Although there was a chance of survival if they utilized the angle of the aircraft as cover, would the enemy even give them that chance?

Team 2 approached from the left flank and met resistance as they fought for the corner. However, the terrorists' numbers had dwindled, and it was only a matter of time.

While the operators provided covering fire, another formation lined up and stepped closer.

Of course, the black ops noticed their actions and blind-fired at the team. The point operator immediately shot at the outstretched weapon, flinging the rifle from the terrorist's hands.

After all, Spirit Fox hated blind-firing and had been trained thousands of times to counter this cheap method that required almost no skill.

The operator resumed suppressive fire, and a few rounds punctured through the aircraft's skin, terrorizing the black ops into retreating.

The gunfire stopped as the Team 2 leader signaled everyone. Standing behind the point man, she roared, "Surrender! You're surrounded! You have no choice."

The black ops looked at one another in despair. They couldn't surrender; they had no choice.

So, with Athena's intelligence and Ling Qingyu's briefing, didn't every Spirit Fox understand?

Of course not. The Team 2 leader didn't want her unit to rush forward. Usually, they would throw flashbangs to gain the element of surprise and crush the enemy.

She didn't want to resort to a peekaboo fight—she intended to frighten and demoralize these black ops.

They were already weak, but she aimed to hammer the weakest of the weak. These black ops had no time to think about the female voice persuading them to surrender.

The 'terrorists' reactions weren't surprising. A handful of them dashed straight ahead, even though their chances remained zero.

They fired on the move, aiming to suppress Team 2 but were picked off like ducks, one by one.

Maybe their desperate burst of fire might have scared others; unfortunately, Spirit Fox wasn't among them.

The girls remained too calm and had great trust in their equipment—including Tang Ziyi's weird talisman blessing, though they had never seen its effect.

The runners were killed, while two desperadoes unleashed a war cry and poured rounds toward the corners. The pointman guessed the terrorists were committing a suicidal charge and fired through the 'wall.'

Metallic clinks and debris flew over the girls' helmets as both sides fired fiercely, unseen, using their instincts to guess the enemy's whereabouts and movements.

Aggression ramped up—neither side hesitated in the slightest.

When the terrorists heard a click, realizing they had run out of bullets, Spirit Fox's file sprinted forward, pre-firing as they advanced.

As the first duo cut the corner, the pointman snapped up and pulled the trigger, landing a headshot before peeling back quickly.

Sure enough, rounds ricocheted off the metal. Another enemy still had bullets. The pointman waited patiently as the lone enemy roared and fired, as if trying to transcend his fear.

Knowing the terrorists had absurd military backgrounds, Spirit Fox would never act lightheartedly or behave like the law enforcement officers they once were.

She knelt and snapped up her SCAR again, adjusting her exposure to a different angle from her original position.

She and the target fired simultaneously. Her bullets ripped through the enemy's lower chin—she could clearly see the blood splatter from his mouth.

Pang!

The target's shot hit just above her head.