When every admiral is still a ignorant newbie, he will receive various humming teachings from his predecessors.

"As long as you work hard, there is no one who can't surpass it."

"The king's power has no eternity, so what if it is the European Emperor? One day, the shocking war drum will ring every continent, and we Africans will eventually be crowned as kings!"

"Special skills for big construction? Yes, come on, this is the sailor suit I prepared for you. Wear it, at least you can build a Kaohsiung-level. Woooo, if I can build a Kaohsiung-level, I can at least become an African!"

God has always been unfair. For example, there are endless resources at birth. A large number of family ship girls are rushing to pay for the heirs. For example, they can create native ships by throwing a resource at random. The big gang was so angry that they invested countless 999 admirals who had not yet shipped the goods. Even if they were Africans around them, they could occasionally hear someone successfully creating xxx. As a result, the day before leaving their African origin, the unlucky guy who was nailed to the wall with a spear by his former comrades.........

In short, it is impossible to ship a gambling ship. You will not ship if you bet until you die. It is a fantasy to fish for a ship. Only the wreckage of the deep sea will always be fished out.........

As an admiral, at least half of the so-called talent depends on illusory luck. Good luck means European royal bloodline, whatever you bet, what you want, what you want, and bad luck means African untouchables, and even sighs are disliked by others.

The admiral's ability may be high and low, and can be compensated by acquired efforts, but luck determines the general specifications of the admiral's growth space. If you are unfortunately selected by African descent, you can only squat in the corner of the wall with tears in your eyes when you are wisely selected to your colleagues who created high-level ship girls at the party, and remember the ugly faces of Europeans deeply in your heart.

Mike is such an admiral who was born in Europe, but his bloodline was buried deep into the African land. Although he is extremely talented, he has now contracted a heavy patrol replica ship and two light patrol replica ships. He has a very high prestige among his classmates, but it cannot cover up his embarrassing situation of repeated failures in gambling ships and high debts.

I thought that participating in the abusive task arranged by the college would calm him down slightly under the dazzling halo of Europe, but he was taught a serious lesson by an exchange student who heard that he had just transferred to school, and even made the first failure in hundreds of years. I am afraid that it would be recorded in the school history and be permanently sung, but I am ridiculed...

"I hate Europeans!" Looking at the men and women who were talking intimately in the venue, Mike's heart seemed to ignite a million pounds of TNT, rolling with surging flames: "mmp, look at the copy ship in an open-breasted dress, and look at Feilong's eyes and want to eat him. Isn't it just a battleship? Isn't it just inheriting the Duke of York's ship's suit? Damn, Feilong doesn't like you, is he looking for the native ship, okay?"

As a loyal loyal trained by Feilong himself, even if the ship girl who was attracted to him refused without hesitation, the object of resentment in Mike's heart was only those high-level replica ships with high qualities and extremely talented talents. He always wanted to contract a battleship, but even in the replica ship, the battleship ships that had extremely high talent requirements were not inherited by anyone. The girls who inherited the battleships undoubtedly stared at the noble sons who were born in a big family and had a golden spoon in their mouths. The admiral from a poor background had a chance of attracting the attention of the warships to an outrageous level.

There is a reason why high-level replica ships such as battleships, battle cruisers, and aircraft carriers have such high gazes. Their consumption is too great. Admirals from poor backgrounds can basically not support them by relying on the resources issued by the alliance. Except for the occasions where resources can be reimbursed, they have very few opportunities to attack. The consequences are that they have fewer opportunities to exercise than other sisters, and they are even covered by the first-level heavy cruisers. Such a life is obviously not the future they are looking forward to.

The amount of resources has become the most important bargaining chip for the admiral in addition to talent. If you have resources, everything will be fine as long as the person is not bad. If you don’t have resources, there are few high-level warships who are willing to follow. After all, except for the native ships that will follow them wholeheartedly, no one hopes to be snatched away by the low-level warships that were once inferior to them at a future party. That is the deepest humiliation!

"You seem to be angry." A dull voice came from the side and came into McKe's ears. He turned around and a man lying on a seat with clothes on his head, covering his sunlight from the transparent top, came into McKe's eyes.

"Who isn't angry? Especially when your spiritual network is no worse than those rich people, but you can only pick up the leftovers they leave behind, you can't understand this feeling."

Mike sighed and said in a silence. He didn't care who the person covered with clothes was. Now that he had experienced a major failure and had not yet gotten out of the trough, someone was willing to chat with him, which was a good way to go: "Is your initial ship in the cocktail party? Only no more than three ship girls are allowed here. Those rich people who came into the clouds will not bring their own initial ships at all, but we are different..."

"Initial ship? I think she should be here now." The man covered in the clothes thought for a while and gave a positive answer.

"Right, I knew you would bring the initial ship here. Actually, I also brought it. Standing at the table and chatting with a battleship was my initial ship, the light cruiser Lin Xian's copy ship Fudi, where is your initial ship, and what kind of ship is it?"

"My initial ship, I don't know where she is now, but she is a destroyer."

"Destroyer, there must be where to play. Don't worry, these little guys like to play and are tired quickly, and will soon return to you. If I weren't pursuing firepower, I would also like to contract a destroyer. For example, Kokang, who always likes to make a fire in the open space, if you don't finish eating the potatoes she roasts for you, she will threaten to send you to Siberia to dig potatoes. Isn't it cute?"

"Yeah yeah ~~"

"I, when I first entered the academy, I was tested for a spiritual threshold twice as high as an ordinary admiral. I originally thought I could successfully contract several large ships, then get a very high record, and be successfully transferred to the best guardian palace, and from then on to the peak of my life."

He laughed twice, and Mike, who had a drink of wine, glanced at the man who looked almost asleep, and said in a low voice: "As a result, I worked hard to save money to buy resources, and wrote love letters everywhere to those powerful warships. In the end, there was not even a warship that was willing to start from scratch with me. I could only contract heavy patrols and light patrols with weak firepower. Do you think this is ridiculous?"

"Yeah yeah ~~"

"With superman's talent, but without superman's ship girl!" Mike poured wine with big mouthfuls, tears rolling in his eyes, but he refused to fall: "I have figured it out. Since no one is willing to work with me, even if there is only heavy patrols and light patrols, I will still create a world that belongs to me. Who said that heavy patrols and light patrols cannot defeat high-level deep seas? Do you think so?"

"Yes, all Europeans deserve to die, and seals must be skewed together and barbecue... Damn Europeans, I want to have e4, and I want to fish for boats, I don't want to make salted fish, damn European seals!"

As if he had a deep sense of the same feeling, the man who was covered with clothes on his head said vaguely, clenching his palms into fists and smashing them on the seat.

"Comrade!" Mike, who poured out the dissatisfaction hidden in his heart with the alcohol, looked at the man who was cursing the seal in a depressed manner, and suddenly felt that his heart was so close.
Chapter completed!