WWII military commentator? Even a dog could be one.

38. Sean and MacArthur's Fuck Man Showdown

Oh my god, Martin thought that when Sean heard the name of the famous superintendent of West Point, he would be full of respect, after all, they were both studying military affairs.

But unexpectedly, after Sean confirmed that the Fuck Man opposite him was MacArthur, he actually said "Fuck you."

Martin gave Sean a thumbs up, "Well done."

Sean knew that as a World War I veteran, Martin had no liking for MacArthur, who ordered the shooting of veterans on Capitol Hill in 1933. Indeed, he didn't like the guy either.

World War I veterans are worthy of respect, yet they ended up shedding blood and tears.

Sean's actions, however, made Martin happy.

"Mr. Sean, the restaurant across the street is serving a buffet breakfast. Here is your membership card and rifle certificate. Please feel free to contact me if you need anything."

"Thanks."

"However, I suggest you practice your shooting seriously and be careful."

"I will."

Sean went into his room and put the certificate away. The two girls next door were already up. Marilyn, wearing new trousers, pulled Sean to have breakfast.

"Why are you arguing with that guy?"

"I like it," Sean said willfully. MacArthur is an old friend of ours, how could I not say hello?

"Sean, why are you still acting like a child? What am I supposed to do in the future?"

Marilyn laughed and teased, while Sean grabbed her hair in annoyance.

Hanni didn't expect Sean to show such a childlike side.

The restaurant was on the second floor next to the pool, and there were quite a few people inside when the three of them entered.

The long table was covered with food: fried eggs, ham, vegetables, and Sean's favorite burritos.

As he selects his food, people around him always glance at him curiously.

After all, not many normal people would yell "FUCK" at the other side first thing in the morning!

After finding a seat, Marilyn walked over with two glasses of iced Coke, placed one in front of Sean, and then looked at Hanni smugly, "There's none for you."

Haha, the war between women is truly terrifying.

Sean was eating his burrito with his head down when he saw an older man in a green military shirt walk into the restaurant with a pipe in his mouth. Although it wasn't lit, Sean was still amused by the man's arrogant manner.

Is this Mike?

MacArthur also scanned the room, looking for the guy who had said "FUCK" to him.

However, because he had been in the Philippines, he was unaware of Sean's situation.

He came as a guest of the Philippines to attend the weapons exhibition and, incidentally, to purchase some light weapons.

MacArthur found a seat, took out a flask from his person, and the two Filipino soldiers beside him went over to get food.

Steak, red wine, and foie gras.

MacArthur's breakfasts were exquisite and custom-made.

Sean looked down at his own: a burrito and an iced Coke. A sense of poverty washed over him. This guy lived a life of luxury, just as the records said. But why was he so angry? Unfair treatment, blatant privilege, damn it.

MacArthur was cutting his steak when Martin, the organizer, walked past him. MacArthur stopped with his knife and fork and asked a question without looking up.

Who is Sean?

Martin seemed used to the other party's arrogance, saying, "Mr. Sean Wayne is an excellent commentator."

"A commentator? I don't know why an arms expo would invite a commentator."

Everyone around them pricked up their ears to listen.

"Mr. Sean is a military commentator."

Military commentator?

"Ha ha," MacArthur laughed arrogantly. "Does he know anything about weapons? Does he know how to fire a gun? Does he know the range of a rifle? The guests the Rifle Association invites are getting stranger and stranger."

Oops!

Sean put down the burrito in his hand. "What do you mean?"

The restaurant was so small that everyone could hear their conversation. Some of them recognized Sean and subtly turned to look at Sean's table.

"There are more and more scammers these days, and you even give money to those who are all show and no substance. It's ridiculous."

"Just because he guessed a few battles correctly?" MacArthur started cutting his steak with both hands, his tone full of disdain.

Look at this bastard, talking like he's some kind of military genius, and even guessing a few battles correctly. Am I guessing? I know the troop deployments of both sides.

Do you understand weapons?

Sean took a small sip of his cola and slammed it down on the table.

Everyone stopped eating and looked at Sean's table.

To be honest, Sean didn't have a good impression of Mike. Eisenhower was much kinder than him, and although Patton was impolite and rude, he was straightforward.

I got along well with him; Nimitz was a really nice guy.

Do you think you're something special?

Hanni looked at the man with disdain. "Don't you know anything about weapons? Are you kidding me?"

"Sean." Monroe tugged at Sean's sleeve, telling him not to cause trouble.

Sean gently pulled Marilyn's hand away. Ever since I transmigrated, I've been constantly questioned.

Even now, many people just think that Sean is a lucky guy, and his luck will run out sooner or later.

If you say I'm not a military expert, don't understand military affairs, and can't fight, that's true, I'm just an ordinary person.

Ordinary people are like me; ordinary people are the mainstream; they only have a superficial understanding of everything.

You say I don't understand weapons? Do you? Even an ordinary person is better than someone like you who's only been around for 40 years.

This guy actually accused him of being a fraudster who was there to scam money.

Wouldn't this ruin my reputation?

Sean grew angrier the more he thought about it.

"I don't know anything about weapons? Hey, let's go to the exhibition now." Sean put down the food he was holding and stood up.

MacArthur looked up at the young man in front of him; he was quite surprised by how young the man was.

"Douglas." MacArthur wiped his mouth, put down his knife and fork, and straightened his uniform.

"Sean Wayne." Sean left the table, and the two stared at each other.

The atmosphere at the scene was tense.

After saying that, Sean walked towards the exhibition hall on the first floor without looking back.

A group of people, seemingly devoid of appetite, followed behind them.

The exhibition area had just been set up and was not yet fully open. When the staff from various military industries saw the sudden influx of people, they were filled with curiosity.

"What happened?"

"MacArthur clashed with Sean, saying that Sean was a fraud, didn't know anything about weapons, and shouldn't have been invited."

"Sean? You mean Sean Wayne? The critic?"

"Yes, it's him, the American hero of the Empire."

"Haha, Sean should know about weapons."

"Yes, Sean's comments are almost all about war. He should know that this is going to be interesting."

People watched with curiosity as things unfolded.

As soon as Sean entered, he pointed at a rifle.

"M1 Garand, 7.62 caliber, 8-round magazine capacity."

Then he pointed to another rifle.

"M1903 Springfield rifle, 7.62 caliber, 5-round magazine capacity."

"M1911, .45 caliber, pistol, 7-round magazine capacity."

"Thompson submachine gun, .45 caliber, magazine capacity 20 or 30 rounds, uses drum magazine, 50 rounds."

The surroundings quieted down.

MacArthur chuckled dismissively. "It's nothing."

After saying that, he pointed to a machine gun. "M1919A4 air-cooled machine gun."

Browning M1918A1 light machine gun.

The two stared at each other. Sean picked up the M1918 next to him and looked at the staff member beside him.

"Is it only fully automatic, or can it switch modes?"

The staff member hesitated for a moment, then said, "It can only be fully automatic."

Sean laughed, looking smugly at Mike. "You're wrong, this isn't an M1918A1!"

"Impossible, do you think I wouldn't recognize you?" Mike stared angrily into Sean's eyes.

"This is an M1918A2. It can only fire fully automatically, but it can fire slowly or rapidly."

All eyes were on the manufacturer's representative.

"This is an M1918A2!"

The room fell silent as they secretly observed MacArthur's expression. He must be embarrassed.