This Game Is Too Real

The front of the coins reads wealth, while the back naturally reads poverty.

There is, after all, only one Ideal City.

And on that land of hundreds of millions of square kilometers, the vast majority is still barren.

The street battles in the Free State continue, while the internal conflict in the Poluo Province has already ended.

Under the mediation of the Alliance, the Poluo national army finally abandoned their northern advance, withdrawing from the depths of Sheep State and Bird State back to the mountains behind the plains south of the Tasang River.

Of course.

The main reason was simply that they couldn't continue the fight.

South of Tianshui, the richest lands of Poluo Province experienced a famine not seen in a hundred years, combined with the deliberate destruction of numerous production facilities. Even if supply lines to the front could be maintained, belts tightened could only clamp around ribs.

Moreover, the Eastern Empire didn't want to fight anymore, and they issued a wave of currency reform on military aid to Poluo Country.

In other words, if they want guns and cannons, they should go to New West Port and buy them with money.

In fact, this was already almost an "explicit order" from His Majesty.

After seeing the Alliance's space elevator and near-earth orbital defense platform, Salon completely gave up the idea of contending for land supremacy, turning his focus outward to the solar system.

This was also the suggestion made to him by General McCullen after returning from the space elevator.

He held a large batch of "Escort Ship" cores, which could be installed on airships and naturally on starships too.

By just installing a hyperspace engine and plasma engine, and strengthening the structural integrity and airtightness of the spaceship, they could be directly used as proper starships.

The Alliance had always been very interested in these good things in his hands, and he happened to be interested in the stars outside the solar system, even seeing it as a good opportunity for overtaking in a curve.

In fact, everyone really didn't need to stubbornly fight over such a small piece of land.

Working together to open up the future would be quite good.

Just like that, a new faction centered on "long-term vision" was rising in the rejuvenating Eastern Empire, and a race about space officially began.

Due to an agreement reached between the Eastern Empire and the Alliance, the northward advance of Poluo Country had to stop abruptly.

Both sides announced their victories and subsequently retreated to their original borders.

The Mammoth Nation occupied the northeast corner of the Poluo Province, governing by dividing the plains on both sides of the Tasang River as the boundary.

Poluo Country retained its original border, including areas like Tiger State, Leopard State, and except Jinjaron Harbor, the region of Lowell State, which had joined Poluo Country during the war with the Southern Legion.

Both sides counted their own casualties. Poluo Country claimed 30,000 dead, with a million soldiers of the Mammoth Nation killed. The Mammoth Nation claimed 50,000 dead, with 1.5 million soldiers of Poluo Country killed.

However, this was evidently an exaggeration.

Both sides likely included civilians, and perhaps even cattle, who died in the war, and counted them against the opposing side.

Survivor's Daily in Dawn City, after compiling data from both sides and conducting field investigations, concluded that Poluo Country's death toll should be around 270,000, with nearly 400,000 injured, and nearly a third of the casualties were due to malaria and infectious diseases.

The Mammoth Nation's death toll should be around 120,000, with 170,000 injured. Their lower non-combat casualty rate due to excellent medical conditions was still a severe blow relative to their disadvantaged population size.

As Shava called back a large number of overseas laborers to fight, the impact of the war even disrupted the labor market in the southern sea area.

Additionally, Survivor's Daily in Dawn City conducted an investigation into the civilian casualties both sides lightly glossed over and shockingly found that the civilian casualty rate in this war was much higher than in the previous war with the Southern Legion, reaching an astonishing 2.5 million!

Throughout the war, both sides frequently used schemes beyond the moral limits of humanity.

Gopal, emulating the late "War God" Arai Yang, built upon the latter's tactics to develop the "flock tactic." This involved driving refugees into towns in Sheep State and Bird State and then using artillery and machine guns to force them to charge the trenches of the Mammoth Nation.

Undeniably, he was worthy of being Arai Yang's right-hand man and truly inherited the title of "War God."

Even "Iron General" Grov lost to his ruthless means, hesitating due to a slight sense of righteousness.

As Grov hesitated, Gopal recruited Welchant people conscripted from the Southern Legion, organizing them into "sheepdog" companies to drive Poluo refugees.

This tactic proved extremely effective.

Those who had become bloodthirsty in the last war, when told that they could reduce their sentences by earning merits, went on a rampage against Poluo, spraying machine gun fire indiscriminately.

There was no longer any hesitance.

Moreover, after the war, Gopal could shift the blame onto the Welchant people, distancing himself from the matter.

It was a win-win.

However, Gopal did not expect that standing against him was also a butcher.

As the former captain of the shock troops and adopted son of Laxi, Shava's notoriety as a "butcher" was already displayed during the chaos of Mammoth City and naturally showed no restraint in the civil war.

Just when Gopal was urging "Iron General" Grov to advance, Shava dispatched Gulian, the former Southern Legion Poluo Province War Zone general-in-chief, to the frontline.

This move bewildered the soldiers on both sides of the front line, including Grov, who was commanding operations.

Although he had given Gulian some trouble during the "Northern Wind Operation," that was during a time when Gulian was fully focusing on facing the main forces of the Alliance and Poluo Country, leaving him no chance to address Grov.

Now both sides faced off directly, in a face-to-face bayonet fight, with no one pulling each other's teeth or hind legs anymore.

Despite Grov's absolute numerical superiority and relatively strong firepower, the opponent was a professional at building turtle shells, trained by the Alliance's bombers.

Most critically, this guy showed no hesitation in killing Poluo people either.

Gopal's sheep herding tactics were pierced, and even with the "Iron General" Grov attacking, the circumstances he faced were even more problematic—his troops designated for the front line, the Southern Legion, were forced to the rears for training as it was his own troops that were sent to the battlefront.

This included Deputy Commander Gibson, whom he had previously captured as a Ten Thousand Leader in the south!

Earlier, he even paraded with colorful garlands on Dawn City's "Survivor's Daily."

Little did he know, the scoundrel had fled!

Gibson, almost the highest-ranking officer under him, had run away!

Regardless of it being family, some bloodlines are thicker than others, and some seem more familiar...

"""

...

Beside the Tasang River.

A concrete dam stands firm in the middle of the rushing river.

In the final battle, the Poluo Country had attempted to blow it up, intending for floodwaters to once again engulf Mammoth City.

But fortunately, local troops fought a bloody resistance and managed to protect the dam.

Now, the war has finally ended.

Engineers returning from the southern sea area are surveying the dam, pondering how to improve it by installing generator units.

This might not only benefit farmers along both riverbanks but also aid many more people.

Though many may never see that day come…

Staring at the majestic dam, Shava, dressed in a crisp military uniform, remained silent, squinting as if contemplating something.

Or perhaps reminiscing about someone.

A group of Mammoth Nation officers stood behind him, all poised and attentive, not daring to disturb.

Except for a certain oblivious Welch officer.

"...This relentless torrent has buried countless talents, countless heroes."

"Hard to say."

Looking at the melancholic Guryang, Shava grinned slightly, his voice tinged with a hint of self-mockery.

"Hard to say, oh, maybe in a few years, the living and the dead will all become dog bears."

He had long seen through it.

In this land, heroes are either destroyed physically and spiritually buried as if they never existed, or they're labeled as villains or clowns. And the true clowns and villains somehow always ascend smoothly, soaring to become earthly gods.

What he drew was the villain card.

Guryang glanced at him, caught a glimpse of those lifeless eyes, and, for some reason, felt a sudden wave of sadness.

His Adam's apple moved slightly, then he looked towards the dam.

"I think that's probably our biggest difference."

Shava glanced at him.

"Oh?"

Guryang remained silent for a moment before continuing.

"In Triumph City, a hero is just a hero, distinct from a saint. We can accept a hero's imperfect side, even commemorate his flaws and glory together. The former won't disgrace the latter; instead, it makes the latter more dimensional...just like a marble statue, its protrusions are always highlighted by shadows."

Shava chuckled and teased.

"Even the Marshal?"

Guryang slowly nodded.

"Yes, he did many bad things, like the massacre in Yavente City... For a long time, we considered that a glory, burying his disgraceful story, and everyone paid a heavy price."

Shava grinned.

"You mean you're that price."

"I'm just one among many, not worthy of sympathy," Guryang sighed, turned to face Shava, paused, then continued, "My war is over. What do you plan to do with me?"

Shava replied expressionlessly.

"I keep my word; you're free now and can go anywhere with your pension."

Guryang said.

"What if I want to stay here?"

Shava looked at him, surprised, with disbelief on his face.

"Are you sure?"

This guy might be somewhat of a loner, but his abilities are evident.

Whether he returns to the Bartuya Federation or the Welch Alliance, someone would surely value him.

"I want… redemption," Guryang looking earnestly at him, "Though it might sound presumptuous, I want to try to help, to do everything I can."

Shava chuckled softly.

"That's probably the most presumptuous thing I've heard all year."

After a pause, as if weary, he turned around, leaving a sentence behind as he departed.

"Suit yourself, it's your freedom."

...

Soon after, Guryang resigned as the Mammoth Nation army commander, setting a precedent for Poluo Province's post-military power dissolution as a Welch.

Whether he truly held military power remains debatable, as behind him stood the Mammoth Nation's most ruthless "Great Moon King" Shava, but he indeed made the first move.

After retiring, he was not idle but rather used his pension to establish the Mammoth Nation Army College, aimed at nurturing talents loyal to the nation, not to the monarchy, in both political and military arenas.

Relying solely on his pension was clearly insufficient to create such a university.

After all, he wasn't Mr. Mouse with exceptional personal charisma and talent, nor did he catch the early bus of history.

However, during his financial struggles, he suddenly received a substantial donation, and the university improbably came to be.

Some say the donation was wealth he scraped from Poluo Province, others say it came from other Welch people who felt guilty towards the Poluo people, and still others believe that the gang in Jinjaron Harbor had too much money to spend, or possibly "Great Moon King" Shava had so much money it brought him discomfort.

But regardless, the once extinguished flame seems to rekindle.

Perhaps this time, they can ignite their own light.

No longer relying on the Alliance or anyone's strength...

...

Elsewhere, in Tiandu City.

Outside the city, starvation is rampant, even the red soil has been dug clean, yet inside the city's grand theater, it is bustling and joyous.

To celebrate the victory of the northern expedition, a circus performance is underway in the grand theater.

The circus reportedly came from Silver Moon Bay and performed on the Alliance's victory day celebration. Inviting them to Tiandu seems to celebrate Tiandu's birthday on behalf of the Alliance.

Zayed sat in the viewing seat, a Rick Five cigarette dangling from his mouth, puffing contentedly with his eyes narrowed in pleasure.

Recently, Sava has inexplicably developed an allergy to nicotine, at least he claims so.

Usually when he's at a distance, it's fine, but sitting shoulder to shoulder like this, even with his supple body, he can't open his eyes from the smoke, coughing repeatedly.

Seeing him look sickly, Zayed suddenly became even more energetic, amidst the praise akin to stars encircling the moon, he started playing tricks, blowing smoke rings.

Looking at Sava's listless expression, he chuckled and teased.

"Sava, what do you think of that clown?"

On the stage, the clown was wrestling with a tiger, which, of course, was not a real fight but a somersaulting act.

Sava was taken aback, unsure of what his godfather meant, but still smiled obsequiously and said.

"I think... that clown is indeed quite ugly."

This was the utmost superfluous answer he could think of as the safest response possible.

However, what he didn't expect was that even this offhand remark was caught by his godfather.

Zayed frowned, took the Rick Five from his mouth, and retorted.

"How can you say that? This clown, I think, is not ugly. Smearing oneself to bring joy to others, how can that be considered ugly? This is not merely non-ugly but great kindness! Ultimate kindness!"

Sava was dumbfounded.

Can it be like this?!

The people around excitedly applauded, clapping their hands till they were red.

"What wisdom from the elder!"

"That's the truth!"

"As it is said... using dust as a mask to feed the tiger, just for smiles in the mundane world!"

"Bravo!!!"

"Righteousness!!!"

The wave of cheers surged one after another, the clown on stage thinking they were applauding him, performed with even more vigor, unaware that the true drama was unfolding in the audience.

The editor-in-chief of the Survivor Daily had already planned tomorrow's headline: "The Clown Isn't Ugly". Meanwhile, the uneducated brute Pickle thought it was marvelous, clapping excitedly like a monkey just entertained by the clown, laughing without end.

Only Education Commissioner Kaba Ha showed little interest, arms crossed over his chest, standing out from the crowd, sporting a scornful expression, even sneering to himself.

"I laugh at Absek fawning on cats and holding his nose high towards people. But now I see, that laughter came too early."

Well.

He had misjudged.

The humbled Sava looked dejected, but secretly breathed a sigh of relief, enduring criticism was better than losing his life, at most, he'll write a profound self-critique when he returns.

Suddenly someone asked.

"Speaking of which, why isn't Gopal here?"

Immediately someone replied.

"He's sick, that's why he didn't come."

"Sick? I think it's more like mentally exhausted, tired of our family's business. Unwilling to watch the circus of the new era, shutting himself behind doors to watch Lowell era's Beast Chess, heh."

Zayed flicked the ash from the Rick Five cigarette.

The ending "heh" was just a casual touch but sent a chill down every surrounding family member's spine.

They were a ruthless bunch themselves, yet none could compare to him.

Everyone was calculating the weight of that sentence in their hearts, except for the instigator, who was casually chatting about something else, as if he had just casually mentioned it.

That wasn't a mere mention.

As soon as the circus ended.

The well-dressed people swarmed onto the stage, turning the clown performer into a hero, then picked up sticks and knives and charged at the menacing tiger.

The followers of Silver Moon Bay, who had never seen such deranged behavior, were dumbfounded, begging them to spare their friend, trying to wake the crowd, telling them it was just a performance, but not a single person stopped.

The tiger, having never eaten a person, was beaten to death by a group of upright apes, stripped of its skin.

The crowd sang of victory, cheering for the sagacity of the hero.

Later, of course, the theater compensated the circus troupe with a large sum of money, and it was paid with silver coin, extending courteous gestures as they were sent out of Tiandu, after all, they weren't Poluo people, but Wasteland Wanderers from the Wasteland.

But the story didn't end there.

The gathered crowd did not disperse, but clamored to go to Gopal's mansion, confronting him to clarify the matter.

A muscular-looking man led the way, shouting to the furious crowd.

"Gopal said he's sick, The hero said he's not sick, let's go see whether he's really sick or pretend to be sick, shall we!"

"Let's go!"

"What's there to fear if he's truly sick!"

"Exactly! We're just going to check on the illness!"

The surging crowd flooded towards Gopal's mansion, and the momentum was growing larger, with easily tens of thousands participating.

Sava, having been kicked in the butt a few times, was frightened out of his wits, solitary sitting at the theater's entrance, unable to utter a word.

He had long suspected that his godfather might first target Gopal, but hadn't expected it would come so quickly and suddenly.

Grov should be returning from the front lines soon, does the boss even consider Grov's thoughts?

Wait a minute——

Suddenly he saw the flushed red, neck bulging, excited cheering General Pickle.

That guy was formerly Absek's minister, logically should be feared and not promoted.

But from another perspective, to Zayed, he could be the safest...

Because if Zayed wanted to kill him, he could do so at any time, regardless of how high his position was.

Reflecting on how Pickle sat near Zayed during the theater, just separated by one seat, Sava's mind buzzed as enlightenment struck, his face also paled.

"Iron General" Grov is in danger!

Cold sweat crawled all over his body.

Originally, he planned to use Grov as his last card while taking advantage of Gopal's downfall, but he didn't expect this guy to exit the stage so soon, too soon to take effect.

His strategy had just begun, and the pieces on the board were already in disarray!

Only then did he realize the terror of that saint, but everything was too late...

...

Thick clouds enveloped the skies over Poluo Province, and the thunderstorm seemed to never end.

The United Human soldier sitting under the barren tree, who threw the cigarette pack away, probably never imagined someone would pick it up again and again, each time with a new trick never seen before.

This smoking habit was probably hard to shake off.

Poluo Province was turbulent, and even Jinjaron Harbor found it hard to stay unaffected.

The troops stationed outside the city could keep the Tiger Army and Black Panther Army calm, but they couldn't suppress the unrestful moods and fragmented nerves of the people in the settlement.

Everything seemed to return to the time before Witch Todd's death.

The once enthusiastic people's blood gradually cooled, and they no longer imagined what the future would look like.

Those things were too vague.

Making money seemed more practical. With money, where couldn't they go? What couldn't be done? What couldn't be bought?

The pragmatists of this port finally took the last step, stepping into a void.

But for them, it might not be a bad ending after all; at least fewer people would die.

When they no longer fantasized about the shape of Utopia, no longer funded unrealistic ventures, but competed over who had more silver coins in their pockets, Jinjaron Harbor's buildings doubled, the narrow streets widened, and bicycles on the streets gained two more wheels, speeding faster!

The first ones to gain wealth rode cars, while the poor added hundreds of buses following the subway, just like the changes the survivors of the City of Dawn once experienced.

Not just transportation.

Cyborg enhancements also gradually flowed into here, appearing on streets and alleys.

And immigrants from the Free State.

They were weary of endless street fights and couldn't stand the monotony of the City of Dawn, so they crossed the ocean with amassed wealth, trying to find their piece in the shattered spirits of the locals.

The flickering neon suddenly spread across pigeon-cage-like streets, giving this weathered ancient city an unexpected cyberpunk flavor.

This probably wasn't anticipated by Lowell.

From the Biological Institute under snowy lands to skyscraper-dotted cyber cities.

The leap was indeed tremendous...

"Extra! Extra! According to unnamed researchers, dragon lizard dung from Baiyue Province has an aphrodisiac effect!"

"What the heck?!"

"Really?"

The bustling port district buzzed with excitement, and the newsstand was filled with local residents.

On the dock, a cargo submarine slowly approached, and a girl with emerald green skin jumped onto the dock with curiosity.

"So many people! Here!"

Looking at the bustling crowd and nearby buildings, Han Mingyue's expression involuntarily showed nostalgia.

"The changes here are quite big."

"Indeed."

Night Ten also couldn't help but express his emotions, his thoughts drifting back to a long time ago, remembering the first time stepping onto this dock...

Just then, the distant chime pulled his thoughts back to the present.

At the same time, Dora suddenly stretched her neck in curiosity, looking at the distant sky.

"What's that?"

Hot air balloons floated in the sky, silhouetted against the sunset like dandelions.

Night Ten too, saw such a scene for the first time, but didn't think much of it, as such a thing wasn't rare in the Alliance or reality.

"Probably sightseeing balloons by the Everflow River... let's go have a look later," seeing Dora's eager look, he said obligingly.

At this moment, Han Mingyue suddenly interjected.

"Before that, if convenient, may I take some of your time? I'd like to take Miss Dora for a trip to Lowell Camp... though it's a presumptuous request, I want to ask her to help me with spiritual energy to check something out."

The Alliance had been excavating the relic and uncovered many interesting things.

However, due to repeated modifications by later generations, General Lowell's personal relics were nearly lost.

She wanted to see if spiritual energy could find something.

Night Ten gave Dora an inquisitive look, and she promptly nodded and said sincerely.

"I can help you."

Han Mingyue's face broke into a radiant smile.

"Great, if we can find General Lowell's notes, we can complete the last page of the puzzle... thank you!"

With a bashful smile, Dora nodded slightly.

"You're welcome; we are friends. It's what I should do."

Her ability to learn was indeed extraordinary.

She had just learned something a few days ago and was already able to make use of it.

As the group chatted and laughed, several black cars stopped in front of the dock.

As the car doors opened, Jinjaron Harbor Mayor Yoder stepped out of the vehicle, surrounded by city hall officials and bodyguards, and came before them.

Unlike the time at Potato Harbor.

On the Alliance partners' turf, this semi-official semi-civilian delegation received an over-the-top reception.

"Welcome to Jinjaron Harbor!"

Looking at the guests from the Alliance and South Gate Two, Yoder's face beamed with a brilliant smile.

"On behalf of the residents of Jinjaron Harbor and the entire city hall, welcome to you all!"