This Game Is Too Real

The silent frontline was shrouded in a somber stillness, with the trenches etched into the earth resembling unsheathed blades.

The Alliance took only five days to completely encircle Yavente City with trenches, cutting off all possible tunnels leading to the outside world.

The Southern Legion soldiers at the frontline witnessed with their own eyes the engineering machines, equipped with tracks on both sides and half-human-height drill heads, digging into the ground amidst the earth-shaking rumbles, and "pulling" the trenches out right under their noses as if defecating.

Now the Alliance soldiers had gradually taken their positions, and the sound of artillery echoed like increasingly urgent drum beats.

Without any surprises...

This would be the final battle.

Quincy's heart held no fear, no terror, instead it held a hint of relief.

About half a year ago, his 34th Ten-Thousand Troop unit was routed by the Skeleton Corps near Lidebu County in Poluo Line Shizhou City, marking the beginning of his nightmare.

First came the humiliation from the frontline soldiers of the 36th Ten-Thousand Troop unit, followed by disdainful looks from the logistics staff at West Sail Harbor.

Even though he fought desperately until the last moment, even though he tried to explain that his opponents were Alliance volunteers, not Poluo people, in the eyes of his fellow citizens, he still couldn't shake off the label of a coward, remaining a disgrace to the Weilante people.

When he took his discharge letter to Evernight Harbor, his fellow citizens there taunted him, asking why he didn't just die.

The young men of the Southern Legion were all rushing forward with enthusiasm and loyalty, while he stood out awkwardly, like a wrong-way driver on a highway.

Later, he transferred to a convalescent facility in the outskirts of Bartoya Province to recover among other injured soldiers back from the frontline.

Though there were some occasional madmen having fits there, most people were just quietly lying on their hospital beds, staring blankly at the ceiling.

It was only then that he felt a touch of peace, after being kicked around like a ball.

Though it wasn't long before he realized it wasn't peace.

It was oblivion.

Not only was Teil forgetting them.

Almost everyone in the Southern Legion conspired in a mutual silence, shunning them as "failures" at the fringes of society.

They were like sugarcane pulp spit out from a juicer, thrown into trash bins lined with white plastic bags, rotting unseen in the corners.

Ironically, just as he was resigning to his fate, the very people who had abandoned him dug him out of the trash, awarding him the Centurion's medal.

The Southern Legion was at its wits' end.

Those who had once burned must burn again.

Quincy had no other thoughts in his mind, silently loading his rifle.

Hurry up—

End this torment!

The widespread artillery fire finally drew near, and the deafening explosion sounds and billowing smoke caused the rookies behind the cover to pale in unison.

Some even wet their pants in fright.

At that moment, a hoarse roar erupted from the intermittent broadcasts.

"Warriors! Behind us is Yavente City!"

"There live your parents, your children, your loved ones!"

"Our enemies wish to erase us from this planet! We must not let them succeed!"

"What we defend today is not only the glory of the legion! But also the honor of Marshal Julius! The dignity of the Weilant people!"

"Fight! Sons of Julius! Let them open their eyes and see, the Weilant people are invincible!"

The resolve for battle reignited in the eyes of the young men who had wet their pants, and even the elders past their fifties shakily reached out, painfully picking up the guns leaning against the cover.

Quincy's heart, however, remained undisturbed.

Such words he had heard too many times and had long become numb to these rousing statements.

Suddenly, a strange thought crossed his mind.

Perhaps—

In the past, the survivors of Yavente City had also spoken similar words.

History, like a circle, unconsciously rounded back to where it began.

"Prepare for battle—!"

Almost simultaneously with the hoarse roar, a shell landed beside the cover near Quincy.

Two rookies, who had mustered the courage to fire from behind cover due to the command, were hit directly, flying backward like kites with broken strings.

"Take cover! Stay in the shelter! Shoot when they get close!"

Quincy, eyes bloodshot, glared furiously at the frightened new recruits, his roar driving them back into the shelter.

One shell after another rained down, thoroughly sweeping their positions from top to bottom.

Meanwhile, dozens of bulldozers simultaneously started their engines, pushing mounds of sandbags like small hills with massive shovels, advancing toward the edge of the defensive line in Yavente City's suburbs.

Observing the Alliance's position through the gaps in the cover, Quincy's pupils shrank sharply, clearly not expecting them to use such a tactic.

An anti-tank soldier positioned an Iron Fist Rocket Launcher, pulling the trigger towards one of the bulldozers.

The speeding rocket struck straight and true against the sandbag wall that resembled a shield, yet only burst into a string of orange-red sparks without stirring up even a ripple.

This type of armor-piercing rounds that utilize metal jets to damage targets has a miraculous effect against hard armor, but when faced with sandbags, it's completely ineffective.

The tanks of the Southern Legion have been depleted, leaving almost only infantry and light armor in all of Yavente City. Facing such a condescending tactic, the officers of the Southern Legion were utterly at a loss for words.

The soldiers of the Death Legion stepped out of the trenches one after another, grabbing their rifles and following behind these cheap yet effective bulldozers.

On the other side, the armored formations of the Skeleton Corps also launched an attack!

One by one, the Chimera armored vehicles led the charge under a milky white smoke screen. They pressed forward with their 37mm rapid-fire cannons, opening fire at the defenses within the town.

Streams of orange-yellow tracers danced over the ground, suppressing the thousand team stationed at the town's edge so much that they couldn't lift their heads up.

The bulldozers advancing from the front finally got close to the edge of the position, and the leader of the Edge Shoveling loudly shouted into the communication channel.

"For the Alliance!"

"Awoo awoo awoo!"

The sound of the charge horn and battle cries resounded everywhere, as nearly a thousand Death Legion players launched an assault from the cover toward the nearby Southern Legion positions.

The distance between both sides was already less than ten steps!

Faced with the increasingly intersecting crossfire, a wall of defenses had already lost its utility.

No matter—

Close-quarters combat in urban warfare is exactly what the Death Legion excels at!

Almost at the same time as the Death Legion launched their charge, the machine guns on the Vellante people's frontline also began to "rat-tat-tat" furiously.

Faced with the suppressive fire of the Alliance, they had been lying dormant under the ruins for a long time, and now they finally reached the moment they could come out and fight.

Flash lines of deadly tracers like willow catkins blown by the wind, advanced through the noisy artillery fire towards the Death Legion, claiming several lives in a matter of breaths.

However, in those few breaths of time, the Alliance's shells seemed almost guided, falling near those few machine gun bunkers.

Explosive roars and billowing smoke arose one after another, and the flickering flames almost flicked against the edge of our soldiers' lines, sending those machine gun bunkers along with the nearby concrete fortifications up into the sky.

The new recruits of the Southern Legion were dumbfounded by the blasts, and even the veteran soldiers were at a loss.

Including Quincy—

Looking at those Alliance soldiers charging along with the artillery fire, disbelief was written all over his face.

These guys...

Aren't they afraid of death?!

The truth indeed was so.

Those soldiers donning gas masks and wearing bullet-proof armor seemed fearless, charging head-on into the barrage of bullets and shells from the Southern Legion.

First contact with the frontline!

The Alliance soldiers plunging into the concrete ruins immediately engaged in close combat with the Southern Legion soldiers hiding behind the shooting cover!

Gunshots rang out in succession, with the booming of shotguns and the fusillade of submachine guns and rifles.

A soldier wearing a gas mask was riddled by machine gun fire, but before he even hit the ground, another soldier wearing a gas mask charged forward, using a shotgun to blast through the brains of that machine gunner.

The entire battlefield was a scene of chaos!

Blood and brain matter flew everywhere, sticking to the shattered concrete defensive line.

Even the most fanatical soldiers under Teil were scared out of their wits at this moment.

This bunch seemed endless in number!

Under the fierce assault of the Death Legion, the first line of defense was swiftly breached.

Without any hesitation, Brother Mole seized the opportunity and immediately issued an attack order.

Escorted by thirty Chimera armored vehicles and twelve tanks, moving forward like a steel-forged dagger, plunged through the mortal gash opened by the Death Legion.

"Hahaha! Die!"

The gunner crouched inside the Chimera armored vehicle squeezed the trigger, and in an instant, over a dozen 37mm armor-piercing incendiary rounds obliterated an entire ten-man team hiding behind cover!

The tunnel covered in crumbled bricks and tiles released the burnt smell of grilled meat, and the ground was littered with charred black corpses.

A Southern Legion soldier lying amidst the dead raised a rocket launcher in an attempt to retaliate, but stuck at a safe distance unable to penetrate the Chimera's armor, he was instead shot in the head by infantry following the armored vehicle.

Facing the armored units right at their doorsteps, the resisting Southern Legion soldiers fell into despair, either launching suicidal charges or abandoning weapons to retreat backward.

The entire battle swiftly escalated from a heated struggle to a one-sided overwhelm, and even the artillery fire from afar gradually subsided.

In less than half an hour, two player legions seized the main southern entrance of Yavente City, decimating three stationed thousand team units to the point of disarray.

Edge Shoveling gathered the captured prisoners in a relatively open space, then instructed the remaining brothers to use sandbags from the bulldozers to construct simple defense positions, guarded against the Southern Legion soldiers regrouping and counterattacking from the rear.

However, the possibility was pretty low.

From the equipment confiscated from the frontline, these three thousand team units' weapons and ammunition together couldn't even match the garrison forces at Evernight Harbor, and the quality of soldiers goes without saying; many were just sent to the frontline to fill numbers.

If this had been half a year ago, an assault battle like this would take at least half a day before victory was decided.

After conducting a simple interrogation of the prisoners, Edge Shoveling walked over to Brother Mole, sharing the intelligence obtained from the prisoners with him.

"...The units we faced were three thousand team units under the command of Centurion Baldwin of the Local Defense Force's 200th Ten-thousand Men Team."

"Baldwin?" Brother Mole looked a bit surprised, "The name sounds kind of familiar."

Edge Shoveling smiled and said.

"Province of Poluo, the War Zone champion of the 37th ten thousand troops, Akale County's great victory, we caught Wolfe of the 36th ten thousand troops, made the reinforcing 37th ten thousand troops run... remember? He's considered an old acquaintance."

Upon hearing Akale County's great victory, Brother Mole finally recalled the name and showed a look of realization.

"Oh oh, I remember... what the hell! Damn it! Wasn't I waiting for resurrection when you guys fought that battle?"

Apparently, it was that war criminal named Wolfe who led the 36th ten thousand troops and picked up his head.

But that guy didn't have a good ending either, now serving a sentence at the POW Camp in Jinjaron Harbor.

"Haha." Edge Shoveling laughed heartily, "Seems like he really is!"

The battle was considered a turning point in the Poluo Province War Zone, and the first battle of the Death Legion in the war zone.

At that time, Survivor's Daily spent three full pages describing the entire battle, where bodies floated and rivers of blood flowed at the river's bend!

Speaking of which, it was during that period he met Yishel...

Thinking of that deceased acquaintance, Edge Shoveling's smile gradually faded, and his raised lips unknowingly drooped.

Walking on this path, some people suddenly just disappear.

"...It's already the final battle, I thought they would bring out some new tricks."

Looking at the unsmiling Edge, Brother Mole could probably guess he was reminiscing someone, thus sensibly changed the topic.

"What new tricks could there be? If they had such a thing, they would have used it long ago."

A portable anti-tank missile with tracking function might count as one.

With that, the Southern Legion successfully destroyed two of their No. 3 tanks.

Yet so what even then?

Total war is a clash of systems, one or two pieces of equipment or one or two strong individuals can hardly sway the war's direction.

Even weapons like the "Mortal Serum," a strategic-level lethal weapon, can't achieve that.

Edge Shoveling, still a bit unwilling, said.

"But aren't most games like this? The strongest parts are always at the end..."

Brother Mole, escaping from the canyon, made a helpless expression.

"You also said it's just common games."

RTS games are not.

Including strategy, management, and farming games, they are not.

For example, Civilization 6.

Once a player first unlocks nuclear weapons, unless aiming for achievements, cultural victory, or space victories, this game is essentially over.

The early painstakingly gathered snowball often becomes the curse compressing game time in the late game, the optimal solution is just to start a new game... and this is a curse any strategy game can't escape.

But watching the snowball gradually grow bigger is quite interesting, if no matter how you roll the snowball, it's only as big as a booger, the hardships they endured along this path would be meaningless, right?

"As for me... now I just want to see what it's like five light years away, to see if Light really baked the pancake."

Edge Shoveling scratched the back of his head.

"What I'm most worried about now is whether there will be an open beta."

Brother Mole said with a smile.

"Haha, does it make any difference? The Wasteland Era is ending."

The fragmented Army has only this stubborn mule of the Southern Legion left living in the old era, there should no longer be opponents worthy of the Alliance's full force.

Eastern Empire? New Federation?

Consider them competitors.

Poluo Country?

After they've played Big Escape enough, who knows how many decades later it will be.

Of course, at this time if Ah Guang wanted to do some work, he could rename the game "Starry Sky OL" or "New Era OL" and start another round of closed testing.

But then, what's the point of him making such a big effort?

Even now, he still doesn't know which mysterious company developed this game, maybe it's truly like rumors say, a blind box gifted by higher civilizations to humanity.

Or maybe Ah Guang...

Actually doesn't exist?

This strange thought suddenly popped into Brother Mole's head, he suddenly had the urge to draw a comic.

It's been a long time since he drew, his hands have grown rusty.

Just when these two old guys were lamenting how time flies, almost finishing the campaign yet still not knowing that day Crow and Mutated Leeches actually happened, Elena, after cleaning up the battlefield, was prepared to lie at the mobile save point.

Just at that moment, he suddenly saw a familiar face among the captured prisoners squatting on the ground, and couldn't help but stop.

Looking at the dusty young man, he greeted him.

"Hey, have I seen you somewhere before?"

Squatting on the ground, Quincy raised his head and looked blankly at Elena, clearly stunned.

Gradually, his expression changed.

"You... you are..."

"Oh, I remember," Elena's face showed a mischievous smile, making a shooting gesture with her hand, "You are that rookie from the... 34th Ten Thousand Leader team that day."

It was quite the coincidence, meeting near the railway station on the northwest side of Reed Bull County then.

The entire Skeleton Corps was reduced from full strength to just him as the last one standing, and the same was true for the 34th Ten Thousand Leader team, leaving just this one survivor.

Since the strategic goal had been achieved, killing or sparing this guy would be the same, Elena, for the sake of fate, let him go, not expecting to meet again.

Quincy was completely dumbfounded, a look of incomprehension on his face.

The look seemed to ask why.

"...You're still alive?"

He personally saw the rocket artillery from the 36th Ten Thousand Leader team cover the entire position!

The intense heat even turned steel into molten iron!

How could this guy still be alive?!

Elena, however, did not answer his question, only scratched her chin and muttered to herself.

"Alive... hmm, that's a very interesting question. So-called dying to be reborn, but can someone who's not dead be truly considered alive? This question has actually troubled me for a long time. What am I to 'this world,' a foodie?"

After thinking for a long time without an answer, he squatted down and patted the young man's shoulder with a smile.

"Why don't you think about it for us? Anyway, when you reach the New Era, you'll have plenty of time to do this task."

Quincy stared at him dazedly, then slowly nodded.

He had indeed heard rumors about the Alliance using clones for battle, but he had never seen such a smart clone.

Seeing this NPC behave so obediently, Elena laughed and placed a candy in his hand.

"Consider it a prepaid deposit, no need to thank me, I got it from Brother Big Eyes... hahaha!"

After speaking, he waved and walked away, humming a tune with a rifle slung over his shoulder.

The fortified fortress had already cracked open, and the increasingly close sound of artillery gave hope to the survivors huddling under the ruins to end it all.

Meanwhile, in the north of Bartoya Province, a grand landing operation was also underway.

Forced to defect to Weilante Province months ago for refusing to shoot their compatriots, the 117th Ten Thousand Leader team, led by Commander Barfica, returned in landing craft.

Seeing the warships lined up across the sea, Commander Mur of the 10th Ten Thousand Leader team, leading the Servant Army, was filled with despair.

It was the South Sea Alliance fleet!

While he hesitated, the long ship cannons and cruise missiles had already bombarded his position.

The roaring artillery tore the beachfront defenses to pieces, and the 117th Ten Thousand Leader team reboarded the place they had fled from!

Besides the infantry charging onto the beach, there were "Short Snout Crocodile" amphibious armored vehicles from the South Sea Alliance North Island, and "Sea Lion" powered armor using deuterium-tritium fusion reactors!

Facing this steel torrent sweeping up from the waves, the 10th Ten Thousand Leader team almost collapsed instantly, unable to even mount effective resistance and scattered in disarray.

At the same time, impassioned shouts echoed in the communication channel of the 117th Ten Thousand Leader team.

"For Marshal Julius' glory!"

"For the glory of the Weilante people!"

"For liberation!"

"Let's rescue our compatriots from hell! Crush these rats!"

Now the Weilant Alliance had weathered the refugee onslaught initiated by the Southern Legion, and the Eastern Coalition already lay siege to Yavente City, so they no longer needed to hold back.

The Triumph City Leader, "Pangolin," stood on the steps of the Glory Court delivering a speech, denouncing Teil including fabricating the West Sail Port tragedy and using civilians as cannon fodder and such crimes, and on behalf of the Weilant Alliance declared war on Teil and his followers!

The initial landing was only the 117th Ten Thousand Leader team, soon twenty more Ten Thousand Leader teams would head to the front line!

Unable to resist the fierce offensive, Mur could only retreat towards Yavente City.

The Weilant Alliance troops advanced south like breaking bamboo, corresponding with the Coalition already attacking the outskirts of Yavente City!

Not just on the ground—

The siege against the Southern Legion's Iron Airships continued.

With the Academy's help, the Alliance successfully mounted phase guns onto trains, and facing an irreversible defeat, of the twenty remaining airships of the Southern Legion, ten have defected.

Half joined the Eastern Empire, while the rest defected to Triumph City.

Now Teil was like a tiger locked in a cage with teeth pulled, with no chance to turn the tables.

Even his trump card, the "Mortal Serum," was pinned down by physical isolation methods in the southern part of Weilante Province, becoming a joke worse than the red soil of Lowell.

He exhausted the Southern Legion's last trump card.

No one was left to charge with him anymore...