This Game Is Too Realistic

The secretary standing before his desk was not human, but an android produced by the Health Luxury Corporate Group. Its name was Galaxy, model C-100, designed for office assistance and health consulting.

Although Ideal City was discussing the western front's battles, Kang Le wasn't concerned with how the wastelanders and the Army were faring at the front, nor did he care about the fate of the crew aboard the Pioneer.

That was for the Silver Wing Corporate Group to worry about. They were the ones who had created the mess, and they should be the ones fretting over it.

Instead, he was more focused on Proposal 771 that Health Luxury Corporate Group was pushing, 'Allowing Androids to Participate in Public Affairs.

Public services and development projects in Ideal City currently fell under the Ideal Corporation's domain, while the city's digital services were provided by Endpoint Group, which specialized in smart equipment manufacturing and cloud services.

If androids were allowed to participate in public affairs, it would mean that Health Luxury Corporate Group, which specialized in medical devices and androids engineering, could carve out a share of the business that currently belonged to Ideal Corporation and Endpoint Group.

Naturally, shareholders of Endpoint Group and especially Ideal Corporation would not agree, with the latter particularly vehement in their opposition.

So much so that their shareholders had even declared at a board meeting, "Today we allow androids to participate in public affairs, what's next, granting them civil rights?"

It was a blatant fallacy.

The progress of pushing Proposal 771 had not been smooth, with only Health Luxury Corporate Group in favor and the other four major entities mostly holding reservations.

However, recently, the situation had seen a slight turn.

The Silver Wing Corporate Group's exploration plans had met setbacks, forcing the Enterprise into direct conflict with the Army, thus making concessions on non-core interests to gain Health Luxury Corporate Group's support on the reinforcement proposal.

Coupled with the favors owed to the arms dealers of the Long Axe Group, Health Luxury Corporate Group now had at least three votes, and the previously almost impossible-to-pass Proposal 771 was no longer in doubt.

Apparently seeing that opposition was now meaningless, Endpoint Group had now come forward with the proposal, probably to curry favor on one hand and to spend less money on the other.

Standing at his desk, Galaxy spoke in a soothing human voice, "... Actually, we don't need to bother with them. We already have more than half the votes, and the passage of Proposal 771 will most definitely pass."

Kang Le smiled faintly. "True, but isn't a 4:1 overwhelming victory more satisfying than a 3:2 narrow win?"

His pupils twinkling slightly, Galaxy analyzed and calculated for a few seconds before speaking. "If we get four votes, I believe Ideal Corporation will probably abstain, and the final result will likely not be 4:1 but 4:0."

Kang Le laughed out loud. Leaning back in his chair, he said with a contented expression, "Interesting, now that you mention it, I'm looking forward to seeing the deflated faces of those old fogeys."

Galaxy looked at his boss with slight confusion. "But what's the point of that?"

"The point is that it shows how united we are." With the corners of his mouth turned up, Kang Le rose from his chair, buoyant as he continued, "Moreover, regarding Endpoint Group's demands, I don't see it as a bad thing, on the contrary, it could be an opportunity for us... It's an opportunity to showcase our technological strength."

Seeing the expression on his face, Galaxy noted a trace of surprise in his eyes. "Are you planning to deploy androids in battle?"

"Why not?"

Picking up the bottle on his desk, the man poured red wine into an empty glass.

Gently swirling the blood-like liquid, watching his reflection in the glass, his lips curled into a subtle smile. "Having living people participate in war is too barbaric, it's not the way civilized people should act... We should have done this a long time ago."

Galaxy thought for a moment, then nodded slightly.

"Correct judgment, according to the calculation results, this would reduce casualties by over 74% and is also the highest probability of success... How many units do you plan to deploy? I will calculate the estimated costs based on the results."

"The specific aid plan is still under discussion, but we've already made promises to my allies that we will send the first wave of vanguards within five days, including the first batch of reinforcements and aid materials. Further assistance will arrive gradually over the next month." Pausing for a moment, Kang Le squinted in content, continuing in an unhurried voice, "To the west is Shelter 0, to the north is the Great Rift Valley... The chairman of Long Axe Group wasn't wrong, we should increase our influence in the southern provinces, but they plan to swallow that piece of cake alone, which is a bit too greedy."

Galaxy nodded in understanding before suggesting softly, "According to your needs, besides mass-produced androids, I recommend deploying 'Frost', the A-130 model is our latest development for war purposes, it's equipped with an information processing chip that can be compatible with various types of weapons."

Turning his chair to face away from Galaxy, Kang Le said casually, "Sure."

...

Compared to the incredibly wealthy Ideal City, the living standards of Boulder Town's residents were undoubtedly far more modest. Naturally, they couldn't afford those high-end smart wearables, nor were there any internet service providers.

However, even though the medium for spreading information had shifted from holographic screens to paper, it didn't stop people from feeling the same unwavering bravery through the words.

And from those words, they could still be just as shocked and moved.

It was all thanks to Hal's writing. And thanks to the New Alliance's support for the news industry.

With the follow-up reports from Survivor's Daily, the stories of each corps in the Alliance spread through every street and alley. Those heroic names became words frequently spoken by the people.

Especially that leap from nearly 1,000 meters in the air. Stories about the Burning Corps were heard almost daily in the taverns.

"That was brutal..."

"If it were me, I wouldn't take that kind of job, no matter how much they paid!"

"No choice, someone had to sacrifice themselves. That Heart of Steel's firepower was insane! I heard that the Burning Corps lost half its troops before even hitting the ground. If a plane hadn't suddenly appeared and damaged the engine, they might have all died before even landing."

"That pilot's name... Have you heard it?"

"I know. I read it in the paper! I think it was... Smiling River?"

"There was a photo of him in the newspaper. He looked like a gentle and refined man."

"Yeah..."

Though the war had ended two days ago, the discussions hadn't cooled down in the slightest.

At a small roadside tavern, a few shirtless men sat around a table, drinking and reminiscing about the brutal battles on the front lines.

It was thanks to those heroes they could sit there at the end of a long day, leisurely drinking watered-down beer without having to worry about that floating steel fortress in the sky.

However, not everyone was basking in the sunshine that followed the dark clouds.

From within the lively chatter, Dori felt suffocated.

Every word that came from people's mouths, whether spoken casually or in a hoarse murmur, felt like salt being rubbed into her wounds.

It was like a branding iron searing her skin.

Sitting in the corner of the tavern, she took a deep breath, left her chips and untouched glass on the table, and quickly fled under the confused gaze of the owner.

The next day, at the Survivor's Daily office, things were as busy as ever.

Editors writing and laying out articles buried their heads in towering piles of paper.

With exclusive access to frontline information, all the sub-publications under the press house, just like the main paper, were practically selling out.

Even though the paper was printing extra copies daily, it still couldn't satisfy the readers' appetite.

And it wasn't just outer city residents anymore.

Even the nobles of the inner city had their eyes on the newspaper. Some even sent their servants to wait at the publishing office, just to get the news a second earlier than others.

Especially regarding the Heart of Steel, what was its status?

Hal also wanted to know what the New Alliance planned to do with the Heart of Steel they had captured from the Army, but none of the updates from the New Alliance's Boulder Town office had mentioned it at all.

He didn't even know whether that airship was still operational.

It was probably classified within the New Alliance, and Hal didn't feel right pushing the issue.

Meanwhile, for the past two days, he'd been asking around about Ample Time, even going as far as to speak to Shu Yu, the head of the New Alliance's Boulder Town office.

Unfortunately, Shu Yu had no news either and only said he would inform him immediately if anything came up.

Just as Hal was fretting over what to do, a letter suddenly found its way onto his desk. Glancing at the words on the envelope, he froze for a moment and looked up at Dori, who stood before his desk.

That was probably the first resignation letter he'd received since taking office. And it came from the press agency's star reporter.

"You want to resign?"

Dori slowly nodded, her slightly hoarse voice spoke. "I plan to go... to Dawn City."

Hal knew why, but still tried to dissuade her. "I'm looking into it for you... Can't you be a little more patient?"

Dori said nothing, but everything she wanted to say was already written clearly on her face.

Seeing that she had no intention of changing her mind, Hal sighed, put the resignation letter into his drawer, and said softly:

"I'll keep this letter for you... You can decide again when you come back. If you need money for the journey, I can give you an advance on next month's wages..."

"No need." Dori gently shook her head. Beneath her swaying short green hair, a faint tear trail could be seen at the corner of her right eye.

It wasn't very noticeable, but it was enough to make one's heart ache.

The newsroom was completely silent. Even the sound of paper turning had vanished.

Everyone here knew that young man from the shelter. He was smart, optimistic, and his energy had inspired many. He was always willing to help. No one had thought he'd one day become part of the newspaper's story.

Only one survivor out of 500... The odds were just too slim.

Watching that small figure disappear at the doorway, a worried look appeared on Hal's face. He sighed and pulled out the bottle of strong liquor from his drawer.

It wasn't exactly the time for drinking, but he opened the cap anyway.

Hal muttered under his breath, "This damned war..."

He felt the urge to write poetry again.