The solar system is broken

The cabin was pitch dark. Only the soldier held a small flashlight in his mouth, illuminating the cabin in the back seat.

The lights flicker.

I feel dizzy, as if I've been flooded with water, my brain feels like tofu, and it's sloshing around. It's a very special feeling. Normal people call it hypersensitivity to position.

(The position sense receptors include the position sense macula (utricle macula and saccule macula) and the ampullar ridge, which are located in the membranous vestibule and membranous semicircular canal respectively.)

His blood was gushing, his heartbeat was racing, and he was sweating slightly. The writer pressed his chest and frowned.

The scene before the cabin door closed flashed through my mind. It was the same at that time, so...

Maybe it's not a heartbeat, but a simple fear of heights...

"writer?!"

"Um?"

"Do you have any ideas?" The soldier took off the flashlight and pasted it on the map in his hand, revealing his deep eyes.

This is a map of the world. It is very large. It is still one meter square when folded into four folds.

Paper maps are rare, and most of them have been eliminated by electronic ones.

"Hmm...probably..."

The writer was hemming and hawing, obviously not listening and distracted. It was obvious that something was not right with the writer.

"How to blow it up?" the soldier asked tentatively. He was not sure where the writer got distracted.

"You, uh, speak Chinese pretty well, um... Carl..." the writer made a move and talked about him.

"carl_eus (German: Carl Eus)", the soldier nodded, this is his full name.

Chinese is a language with high semantic density. It follows potential language rules, one of which is that all non-positive answers equal negative answers.

So what the writer means is that he didn't listen at all.

"Police, do you think it's possible?" The soldier didn't say it directly, and his face was very fragile, which revealed not only embarrassment, but also resentment. Since ancient times, close friends have often died, but most of them are due to quarrels.

The policeman shook his head, "The police can't compare to the army in killing efficiency. But you still understand the accuracy," he chuckled. The entire action plan can only be described in two words - childish.

Ball lightning, nanocutting, it's just ridiculous.

The soldier nodded. On the battlefield, arrogance is more deadly than cowardice. Predicting the enemy is more decisive than facing the enemy.

"The time it takes for ball lightning to spread is not a problem." The policeman clicked on the railway line on the map. "According to the speed of the train, it will only take a few seconds to complete its length, but..." The policeman hehe

With a smile, he took out a cigarette from his coat pocket.

Pa da ~

The orange flames reflected the policeman's face. The policeman took a deep breath, then puffed out his cheeks and blew out a smoke ring.

"Ahem~" The writer reached out and fanned himself. He hates cigarettes.

"People don't lose their ability to move at once, and the same goes for poison gas." The policeman showed his teeth that had been smoked yellow, and gave a contemptuous smile. "Bah~" There was another smoke ring. Then the writer rushed to the side.

Fleeing, pinching the nose. (The writer is a bit hypocritical)

"Continue," the soldier frowned. Smoking was obviously not a good habit.

"As for drawing, haha~" the policeman smiled, lit up the half-burned cigarette ash, turned the complete ash stick in the air, and smashed it to pieces on the ground of the cabin. The black windbreaker ash

A fluttering piece.

The soldier was confused. The six-stringed instrument was not working anymore. Six nanowires the size of one-third of a human hair were cut through, and the people on the train could not escape no matter what. "What do you say?"

"More childish!" The policeman spoke very directly, which may be one of the reasons why he is not very likable. "How many people do you want to kill?"

The soldier nodded, but then shook his head, "There is no other way but to do this. There is a nuclear bomb in the train."

"Have you thought about the aftermath?" The policeman raised his eyebrows. The person who made this plan must be a half-hearted person. The passengers on these trains all had huge influence, and the scope involved was too wide. They were all killed. The impact

not good.

"Just define them as terrorists," the soldier folded the map and shook his head.

To become a sword holder, one cannot be afraid of dripping blood. The slaughter is inevitable.

Killing is no stranger. The space force kills people all the time, killing people all over the world.

It's just that the soldier doesn't like killing people psychologically. So he is religious and a devout believer.

"Is there anything you can do?"

"No," the policeman shook his head, saying there was nothing he could do.

The soldier looked at the policeman silently and said nothing.

I said it, but it seemed like I didn’t say anything.

Silence is like the smoke before dry wood is lit.

"Go ahead with this plan."

"I think...I have a way..." The writer raised his hand.

"Um?!"

"Yes." The writer nodded firmly.

Writers need a lot of imagination, a big brain. It’s called dangerous tactics.

"Let's talk about it." Bringing a writer seems like a good choice.

"Take it off." The writer let go of his nose. Because he was covering his nose, he felt that his breathing was not smooth.

Take it off?

It sounds like a very good idea. But the reality is that Hades is constantly flying on the Continental Railway. Taking it off is not easy.

"It's difficult~" Karl shook his head and half rejected the proposal.

The policeman blew out a smoke ring, looked at the writer through the blue smoke, and was slightly startled. He took it off, and he seemed to have a lot of ideas.

"This is a real case that was successful," the writer glanced at the policeman, and his meaning was self-evident.

However, the policeman shook his head and said, "I have never been in contact with him."

"If everything goes well, just a rope will be enough," the writer waved his index finger in front of the soldier's eyes without continuing.

The soldier nodded in astonishment. The writer did not say anything, but he seemed to hope that the information would be equal. He carefully considered the mission, and finally decided to tell the writer, "Our opponent this time is the human resistance army."

"What to do?" The writer was confused as to why a military operation should invite a writer. To be honest, a writer is more like a dragster.

"The things of the resistance are related to flying stars..." The soldier pointed to the top of his head.

"Ahem!" The sniper turned back from the front seat and signaled with his eyes to tell the soldier not to continue talking. The Space Force seemed to be very sensitive to this matter.

"Sorry, that's all I can say~" The soldier nodded to the helicopter pilot and gave the man a reassuring look.

"Additional question, why did you choose me?" The writer can understand why he chose the police. After all, he is an experienced general. As for himself...there is nothing outstanding about him.

"Someone named you to participate~"

Who is someone? The writer did not continue to ask. If the soldier used the word "someone", he would definitely not be able to answer.

"I call this plan grafting~" The writer's plan is very simple, it is a complete replica of a criminal case.

This plan is a replica of a copper theft case in Sichuan at the end of the 20th century. It is simple and crude.

The helicopter was moving rapidly on the dark sea surface, hidden in the clouds. The helicopter did not turn on the lights and flew blindly in order to hide its target.

I wasn't afraid of anything happening, after all, the helicopter didn't fly very high.

The faint starlight shines in the cockpit.

The driver wore a dark helmet and his face could not be seen clearly.

A pair of gloves, crumpled into a ball, were thrown carelessly on the passenger seat. One of his hands was not wearing gloves, and he obviously took them off after taking off.

Through the faint starlight, what can be seen is a thick layer of calluses on the tiger's mouth of that hand. It is probably because of the use of a gun.

The small red light on the earphones kept flashing, flashing fast and slow, as if it was constantly conveying some information.

Tu tu tu tu~

The helicopter blades flew across the window quickly, and the entire aircraft tilted forward and flew forward.