The solar system is broken

"Hey, the commander is really a dishonest person." The soldier put a bullet into the carbine to ionize the warhead to paralyze the machine. "But it's not bad. At least there is no problem now."

He pointed the muzzle of the gun downward and supported his body. The dazzling sweat penetrated his eyes, making him unable to open them.

The temperature is rising, and it's rising very quickly, and the sun is about to rise. It's bright, and there are no huge black shadows in the sky today.

"It looks like the chances are really good this time," the day length today will reach a peak value of about 12 hours, or even longer.

The carbine was raised and aimed at the external antenna high on the water tower.

The butt of the gun was pressed against the soldier's shoulder, aiming at the antenna, taking a deep breath to adjust his breathing.

The soldier used to be a special forces soldier, and shooting is a basic skill. "Don't forget your old skills~" He took out a nut from his coat pocket and held it in his mouth.

Bite lightly with both teeth, fold your left hand, and fix the gun in your hand to a stable position.

Fixed target, light wind, shooting distance of 190 meters.

Then he moved his aim upward half an inch, the gunpowder was activated... Bang!

The teeth were tight, and the nut broke into two pieces. With a bang, it fell on the metal shell, bounced several times, and rolled down.

The far wire was a little crooked, but not disconnected.

In fact, such a large antenna and such a firearm have no possibility of interception at all. Such bullets are just simple current interference.

The soldier put away his hands and nodded with satisfaction, that's it.

"Commander," the soldier's mouth curved, "I don't know if you have any intention of taking advantage of it, but I'm on guard against you sabotaging my affairs.

"Some people must be saved!"

He slowly put down the carbine, pulled it out of the chamber, and loaded the second bullet.

This shot was prepared for a special target.

The heat was already obvious. Such a temperature rose very quickly. The soldier's exposed skin had already begun to appear crimson.

Within twenty minutes, the people in the boat should have clearly felt that something was wrong.

"Soldiers," the voice from the earphones began to say, "They have entered the 'Baiqi' spacecraft and will be able to ignite it in fifteen minutes."

"We'll talk about it in thirty minutes." The soldier took off a water bottle from his waist and poured the water over his head. The soldier shivered. It was very cool.

"The temperature will reach 40 degrees in thirty minutes. Do you really want everyone to die?" Even if the pumping starts immediately in thirty minutes, it will take an hour just to fill the water. By that time, the so-called condensed water will be over 80 degrees.

, the people inside have long since become dumplings.

The soldier wiped his face, shook his head, and the water droplets from his hair quickly flung onto the steel hull. The water droplets instantly raised a burst of mist, and when it got wet, it was evaporated clean. The steel shell is now at least sixty years old.

Too many times.

"That's your business!"

Bang! The microphone broke.

This time the headquarters was completely at a loss. The way to the upper deck was blocked and the antennas were cut off.

At this time, the only way to stop the soldiers who were already on the verge of going berserk was to call on their Almighty God. "Didi, di, di," the earpiece suddenly rang again.

This time it is no longer the command center, but his partner Huo Shan.

"Be quiet, there's nothing to eat!" he scolded.

"Beautiful boy," Huo Shan tried his best to be gentle, but it gave people a sense of vulgarity. He spoke Lingnan dialect and had a local flavor.

"?"

"I just said this thing is unreliable~" Huo Shan clicked the keyboard angrily, but the policeman, who was a glutton, said, "Fucking electronic countermeasures force."

The policeman's voice is gruff and gruff, and you can tell by the sound of his voice.

"I support..." Bang bang bang! Take the microphone.

"I heard it," the soldier rolled his eyes. He took out the earplugs and moved them away from his ears, "I'm not deaf."

"To make a long story short, we have broken the permissions, but this thing is a bit..." Beep, beep, constant clicks on the keyboard. "There is a small danger in launching it. After all, there is no inspection..."

The soldier wiped his forehead with his hand and smiled slightly, "This is nothing. The most dangerous thing is that if I were them, I would launch you, and then wait until the Statue of Liberty is safe, and then reprogram the rocket.

, fly back directly and make a parabolic motion."

"!!!"

The sound of keyboard tapping in the earphones suddenly made me ask, "Is this fucking okay?"

Rockets can be remotely controlled from the ground, and this is not impossible.

After all, what is carried on the rocket is not a death row prisoner in the ordinary sense, but a prisoner who is expected by the entire human race.

"Where is the spirit of contract among you Germans?" It was the writer's voice. The voice was very bleak and vague, as if he was dying.

"Oh? Writer, do you still believe this?"

"Don't believe it!" There were two coughs over there (family hereditary disease, congenital respiratory failure).

It was a little noisy at the writer's place, and the police kept mumbling something. They seemed to be hungry.

"Think of a way, writer, you are a person with ideas," the soldier covered his eyes and glanced at the rising sun, his eyelids twitching.

Squeak, squeak, sound of electricity.

"Why do you believe me?" the writer asked in a deep voice.

The soldier was stunned and murmured, "I believe...well...Germans pay attention to responsibility, and all rights come at the cost of obligations, so I want to get something."

"This is credible, that is, you want to take advantage of me," the writer's voice said without any emotion.

"Well," the soldier admitted frankly, "essentially yes, compared to letting them kill you, using weapons like yours is more in line with our expectations."

"So do you have the corresponding awareness?" The power of weapons is not only directed at the enemy, but also directed at the user. To create a sharp sword that makes the enemy tremble, you must also prevent yourself from being cut by the sharp blade. Controlling the writer, right?

Simple, at least it's dangerous to do so.

The soldier nodded and breathed a sigh of relief, "Yes, so we want to help you."

There was silence. The writer didn't trust anyone. He didn't think there was any use in doing so. "Why?"

If an important prisoner is sent to space (the base of the United Space Force), the United Nations will not let him go, but changing the location is meaningless.

"Listen, writer, you should know Jiang Che. She won't want to kill you for no reason. Since she wants to get rid of you resolutely, it means that there is something in you that makes the Wrangler organization afraid. Maybe he is destined to

Sincerely."

The writer nodded. In his memory, Jiang Che never did meaningless things. The writer even suspected that if it weren't for blood, he would have been abandoned by Jiang Che in a slum in California and starved to death.

From a young age, Jiang Che told the writer that there is only one basis for judging everything: value. Keep what is useful and throw away what is useless.

But in fact, there is no way for my sister to do it. Because from time to time, writers will see unreasonable actions other than value, such as hugging and touching.

The writer was curious about the meaning of these actions, and Jiang Che simply explained that the emotional dependence of mutual needs is also the writer's entire value to Jiang Che.

But, that night...she hurt him.

The writer's hands trembled and his gums trembled. He was sure that his sister wanted to kill him and would not give him any chance to kill him.

The cold moonlight shone on that familiar face, and Jiang Che was so unfamiliar that every cell of his body was filled with fear.

"Hello?

"Oh~" The writer was distracted. He mentioned Jiang Che. The writer had been distracted recently, "I'm sorry."

"Protect yourself, you are very important," the soldier said seriously, not as a joke.

"So, what do you want?"

"Got it...", the soldier was stunned for a moment, then smiled with relief. "You will understand when you get to the space station," the writer agreed.

"Is there anything else you want to explain?"

"God bless."

"God bless?" The writer did not say the second half of the sentence. I am Chinese and do not believe in God.

"Shangdi free shipping?? Is it delicious...?" the policeman said.

silence.

"Free shipping? Why don't you... place an order first? Why are you looking at me?"

"Ouch!" faded.

"Boom!"

The other end of the earphone was punching hard, "Me? Have I tolerated you for a long time? Are you the descendant of deafness?"

"Did I say something wrong?" She covered her face, feeling aggrieved.

"Crack."

"Lao Jiang, why don't you..."

The soldier clicked off his headphones.

It seems that the internal conflicts among the Chinese people are also very complicated.

All the expressions on the soldier's face disappeared, and he put down his hand feebly. The conversation just now exhausted all his strength.

Now his mood is very complicated. There is joy. The writer is not as resistant as he imagined, which is considered a success; there is sadness. The soldier looked at his already red skin and he has already realized something. But it is more of the last emotion.

, doubt and a faint impulse.

He didn't know whether he should trust this captain. Cooperating with the captain was like exchanging souls with Satan.

This is very... exciting... maybe the feeling of crime is just such a subtle stress emotion.

The soldier's face was as red as after drinking two glasses of strong brandy. The soldier was dizzy and his thoughts were somewhat disordered.

The waves on the sea were confused, and several shadows appeared one after another. The whole world was intertwined and unreal in the chaos of light and color.