Chapter 845 - This Game Is Too Realistic

### Chapter 845: The Wrongfully Imprisoned Pangolin “Get in; this is your new home from now on.” --- The Port of Xifan's prison. This granite fortress is likely one of the few buildings in the Xifan Port area that escaped the ravages of war. The floor he's on is buried deep in the prison's underground—a place reserved for high-risk criminals. Ignoring the guard's mocking commentary behind him, Battle Atmosphere Group calmly walked inside. He glanced around with curiosity; the cell was as bare-bones as it gets—just a bed and a toilet awkwardly close to the bedhead. Mealtimes might even force him to place his bowl on the toilet lid. The walls were jet-black with not a single window for ventilation. The few exhaust outlets were on the ceiling beyond the bars. Are they seriously trying to suffocate someone in here? Battle Buddy couldn't help but silently complain. But there's a silver lining to this: it’s a single cell, so he doesn’t have to share it. Whoever ordered his lock-up clearly didn’t want him too close to others. Just as Battle Atmosphere Group was studying his new home, the barred door behind him slammed shut with a heavy clang, followed by the sound of the corridor’s iron door closing. “MMP, being in jail in a game isn't so bad... Feels way too real, though.” This game dev must have done some firsthand research. Battle Buddy sat on the bed with a sigh. As a model young citizen, he’d never experienced jail in real life, and yet he found himself in this strange situation in a game. He had to admit, the experience was somewhat novel—albeit a bit boring. As he pondered logging out to play a few games, the sound of footsteps echoed from the empty corridor outside. The cell door, which had closed not too long ago, creaked open again. Hearing the noise, Battle Buddy perked up and went to peer out from the bars. He saw a group of about 40 to 50 people being escorted in by a soldier from Vilant, armed with a rifle. Battle Buddy was confused by this unexpected turn. What on earth are they planning? The soldier used his rifle butt to herd the last person in, then said coldly, "The cells upstairs are full; you'll have to make do here." Having tossed out that statement, the soldier shut the door firmly, as if he wasn’t worried the prisoners loitering in the corridor might cause trouble—or maybe he was hoping for it. Battle Buddy's instincts told him to remain cautious. As he observed the confused prisoners congregating in the cell, his gaze fixed on one of them—a young man who seemed the most honest. With a gesture, Battle Buddy caught his attention and beckoned him over to the bars. “Who are you all?” he asked curiously. The sincere-looking young man replied immediately, "Family." Battle Buddy was puzzled. “Family? What do you mean?” Seeing the confused look on the prisoner’s face, the young man patiently explained, "We're from the Family Guild, a group formed by and for family members... Those over there are from the Black Rat Gang." He pointed to a corner of the corridor, where a dozen or so people bore Mickey Mouse tattoos—a menacing presence indeed. “And how did you all end up here?” The young man’s face turned resentful as he glared at the group of thugs in the corner and spoke in a hushed tone. “The Black Rats started it. They threw Molotov cocktails at our place, so we got our weapons and fought back... In the end, the Vilant stamped out all of us." Battle Buddy was taken aback. “Why did they attack you?” Without hesitation, the young man answered, "They fear our unity!" Battle Buddy: “...” Although the conversation was disjointed, he pieced together the situation. Turns out it was a gang skirmish. The authorities weren’t picky—likely, they saw a fire and rounded up everyone on the street. If one was detained, everyone was. Even though the young man continued his indignant account of how they were attacked first, Battle Buddy had lost interest in the specifics and grew more curious about the Family Guild. Unlike typical gangs, this guild seemed to have an educational component—unheard of in other regions of the Boro Province. According to the young man, employment was provided by the Family Guild, and in return, the guild supplied for its members, so no one owed anything to anyone. In contrast, it was the docks and Vilant people who stole from them. They redefined work as an honor and support as a grace—a notable shift in the fundamental "division of labor" structure. They'd even coined terms for their social concepts, though specific units and methods of measurement were absent. For instance, how to measure grace and honor or equate them adequately wasn’t specified—these issues bypassed in favor of abstract ideals. Perhaps these issues were explained in detail by Zyed in some lesson, and the young man merely forgot. Yet, what caught Battle Buddy's interest wasn’t the philosophy itself but the practical applications—like the colored ranking system and advancement structure. These elements bore a striking similarity to the player contribution system. Except Battle Buddy found something off about them. Green for trash, purple for divine gear, gold for legendary... wasn’t this lifted from some real-world RPG? Some cunning individual might have sneakily "imparted" real-world RPG concepts to the NPCs. The young man continued to speak fervently, his excitement rising. "Zyed also said that when everyone becomes family, the Wasteland Era would naturally end. It's straightforward, but the people outside the Boro Province are too greedy." Battle Buddy felt a headache brewing, rubbing his temples to untangle the chaotic logic. "I admit there’s some truth in your words, we also think the wastelanders outside are too greedy, always wanting more... err, I mean other than the Vilant people. So, have you all prepared to save the wasteland?" Close call! Almost let my undercover status slip! Thankfully, the young man didn’t catch on—or didn’t realize the person in front of him was a "Honorary Vilant." He just proudly continued, "That's our future goal; we will save all those on the wasteland." Battle Buddy: “...” If he understood the game mechanics correctly, it was supposed to be the "players, who've transcended their wasteland, saving other survivors." The Boro Province was the largest and most populous wasteland on the continent. He wanted to advise this guy to start with saving themselves before troubling others. “So, the Family Guild... wanna come check it out?” Battle Buddy asked, smiling wryly. "I’ll pass... I’m not very bright. I’d just hold you back." The young man looked disappointed, almost pitying him. Despite Battle Buddy not buying into his claims, the Black Rats had taken note of them. Enthralled by the young man’s passionate speech, their eyes grew brighter. “Whoa! This is genius!” “Damn it! I’ve long thought the Black Rats were going nowhere. They pretend to help us, all while trying to extort money... I might as well join you guys.” “Count me in!” Most gangs in Xifan Port popped up after a massive incident just over a month ago, and their loyalty was shaky at best. Tonight’s events escalated dramatically, with the fire nearly engulfing half the slums, countless lives likely lost. By morning, the Vilant authorities would certainly clamp down on them. Jumping ship now was a move to avoid punishment... At least, that's what the small fry believed. As far as they were concerned, the Black Rat Gang was doomed! The young man from the Family Guild was quite welcoming, quickly forgetting past hostilities and cheerfully saying, "No problem! From now on, we're all family! Once we're out, I’ll help you register!" Eyes burned with enthusiasm, akin to candles in the dark, flickering with a glimmer of hope. Battle Buddy was on the tip of ridiculing it as just a "cult" gimmick—a transparent con even children wouldn't fall for—but the gang members' fervent glances halted him. They truly believed. Watching the congregation around the impromptu lecturer, Battle Buddy fell silent in his cell. Alright. He had underestimated the situation... --- Later, as he eavesdropped, Battle Buddy learned that the young speaker was named Amin, a regular guild member without any special status. A "plain whiteboard," to use their parlance. However, after tonight, rising to a "green" status seemed likely—if they made it out alive… With Amin's nonstop lecture, Battle Buddy couldn't resist dozing off and soon logged off to play some online games. Upon returning, he found the corridor group had been taken away, leaving behind a stained and foul-smelling mess. The Vilant authorities hadn't provided cells or even buckets; the people had resorted to relieving themselves directly in the corridor. The stench was overwhelming, forcing him to plug his nose and enhancing his already dim view of the Vilant people. Clearly, they couldn't confront him openly, so they resorted to such vile tactics for revenge. As Battle Buddy stood, frowning with his nose pinched, the sound of chains and footsteps echoed from beyond the prison door. Through the opened iron door squeezed Penny, lugging a meal box. Seeing Penny caught Battle Buddy off guard—her visit unexpected. And she, too, was briefly taken aback by the squalor of his cell, her face turning pale, unclear whether from anger or the stench. “They put you in a place like this?” she exclaimed, astonished at the Vilant's shamelessness. Battle Buddy spread his hands, showing his indifference. “It wasn’t like this at first, but last night they brought in a bunch of people. I figured something rotten was up. Lucky for me, I was asleep when they unsheathed pants; that scene would've scarred my eyes.” Given their diet, such leisurely bowel movements were puzzling. The Vilant might have fed them something extra. Though without proof, it was a theory he had to shelve. Carefully stepping over the mess, Penny walked closer, prompting Battle Buddy to ask, “...So what brought you here?” Softly, Penny replied, “I came to bring you food…worried you might be hungry.” Bringing food, huh... It was likely around noon outside, and Battle Buddy did feel hunger pangs. Yet the suffocating odor killed his appetite. Noticing his reluctance, Penny hesitated before offering, “...I’ll talk to my uncle about getting you a different cell.” Battle Buddy sighed, shaking his head. “Don’t trouble your uncle. He doesn't have that kind of authority. It’s that Gullian who nabbed me.” “Then I'll find Gullian!” Penny declared, gritting her teeth. “That’s insane. His rank is higher than your father’s. Confronting him won't help. If you want my advice, leave this port while you still can. A ship to Homecoming City might present a solution.” “I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe!” Penny’s eyes locked onto his. After some time, her tone softened. “Don’t worry about me. I know you mean well, but staying isn't just stubbornness—it's my father's wish.” Battle Buddy blinked, surprised. “Your father? Mr. Bennetter?” Penny nodded earnestly. “Yes. The civil group won’t abandon you. His connections at Homecoming City are already working to extradite you there.” Battle Buddy’s expression shifted from shock to disbelief. Bennetter was willing to protect him? It didn't add up! “...There aren’t any ships leaving port. The southern army sealed it.” Penny’s voice faltered, embarrassed. “So, please don’t insist I return. Let me bring you meals for a while.” “Wait, the port’s sealed?” Alarmed, Battle Buddy asked urgently, “What’s happening outside?” Penny shook her head. “I’m not sure. I heard a fire broke out last night, a gang conflict, maybe? Things are tense, with many executions.” Fire. Again with fire. Was something off with Xifan Port’s 'feng shui'? This blaze didn’t escalate as before—no conspiracies emerged, no leaders summoned. Given the military’s dismissal as a gang dispute, surely it was incidental. Recalling the passionate group from earlier, Battle Buddy silently hoped for their safety, acknowledging their simplicity yet sincerity. Yet such persons who follow winds are prone to manipulation. “...Xifan Port feels unstable. If you can leave, do so when possible,” he advised. Penny, cheeks flushing further, appreciated his concern. He always prioritized others' welfare over his own, even though he dabbled in danger himself. “Relax. I’ll manage…eat while it's warm,” she urged, handing the meal box over, only for it to catch on the bars. She awkwardly tried to reverse it, cautious not to spill, but it persisted. Exchanging glances, Penny then whispered shyly, “How about I…feed you?” Seeing her sudden bashfulness, Battle Buddy felt warmth replace the stench. “Um… thanks.” “You’re welcome…” Blushing, Penny opened the box, nearly dropping the spoon, which Battle Buddy quickly caught. Both realized he could eat between bars, yet silently agreed to maintain the charade. That meal stretched to an hour, an intimate yet silent connection bridging the bars. Seeing the now-cleaned bowl and Penny’s flushed face, Battle Buddy felt an unusual sense of fulfillment—both physically and emotionally... --- Whether it was thanks to the influence of the *Triumphant Herald* or Penny's father, the very next day, the Vilant soldiers surprisingly seemed to relent. They dispatched a rodent soldier to clean up the mess in the corridor. Although the prison cell retained its stench, it was a significant improvement from before. Thus, another week slipped by without notice. During these days, Penny continued to bring him meals, sometimes accompanied by news from the outside. On one hand, the crackdown in Xifan Port persisted. Yet, possibly due to some maneuvering behind the scenes, the broad-brush crackdown on the gangs had morphed into a targeted takedown of the Family Guild. It was quite the conundrum. Logically, the Family Guild were victims; a balanced punishment for all parties would make sense, but taking all the heat alone was puzzling. Even if the authorities weren't keen on reasoning with the oppressed, such backward behavior was unusual. Driven by curiosity, he organized his thoughts and posed his questions on the forum. The experienced forum-goers unraveled the mystery. A knowledgeable member speculated that the crackdown likely wasn’t directly orchestrated by General Gullian. Much like the manure-dumping incident, it was probably initiated by lower-level officials. If improvised by subordinates, handling the situation would naturally be more flexible. Perhaps other gangs had bribed their way up, while the Family Guild, not paying protection money, found itself scapegoated. Perhaps other gangs were easier to manage, whereas the bigger and unpredictable Family Guild posed a potential threat, and was thus singled out. There was also the possibility that the Family Guild harbored player agents; the ridiculous name suggested a gamer might’ve initiated it. Ultimately, the clash of these potential reasons and others culminated in the tragic ridicule of the Family Guild, first excluded by rival gangs and then struck down by the military. Sadly, the innocent souls within suffered the worst of consequences despite any wrongdoing… Meanwhile, the clampdown didn’t affect the Vilant residents within the port. Although the higher-ups of the military rarely prioritized civilian lives, their treatment contrasted with the Xilan Empire, which treated its own people as subservient livestock. Honored citizens of Vilant were safeguarded by law with top-tier civic rights—even an “Honored Vilant” like Battle Buddy shared this protection. This explained how others were easily executed while he awaited trial. According to Penny, the Vilant locals, led by a merchant named Almon, established the Xifan Port Citizens’ Autonomy Union, which pressured the southern forces to exercise restraint, avoid conflict, and release Battle Buddy unconditionally. Backed by the civil faction in Homecoming City, if not encouraged, the community’s undying loyalty was genuine. Though Battle Buddy hadn’t expressed many verbal gratitudes, he felt deeply touched by Penny’s relayed tales. The survivors were grateful, never forgetting who saved them, albeit his contributions were modest compared to others and only aiding a few hundred. Thanks to this united force, the southern forces ceased troubling him, at least holding off on stunts like the "bring-them-in-for-open-defecation" shenanigan. Time passed, and March arrived. The Boro Province entered its rainy season, with Xifan Port experiencing bouts of rain and enduring a typhoon that toppled street shelters. The severe crackdown outside appeared to finally conclude. After wielding the whip, the southern forces clutched candy in their fists, funding grassroots organizations and dock-controlling gangs to repair the damaged shelters and clear streets buried in debris. This action wasn’t prompted by kindness; war loomed, necessitating unblocked routes, operational factories, docks, and essential infrastructure supported by compliant grassroots entities. They didn't mind spending extra denarii now—knowing they’d soon acquire more. However, these outside upheavals didn’t affect Battle Buddy in his dungeon solitude. Where he was trapped, there wasn’t even a whisper of wind, let alone rain—though the sewer backflow during rainy spells was difficult. These mundane inconveniences hardly affected his life. Thanks to Penny’s diligent care, Battle Buddy feared he might have even gained weight, though it wasn’t palpable. Now, besides waiting for meals after logging in, he added push-ups to his daily routine. On an early March day, Battle Buddy was exercising on his bed when, unexpectedly early, Penny entered bearing a meal box, visibly nervous as though something big had happened. Battle Buddy leapt from the bed, asking urgently, "What's happened outside?" Rapidly, Penny responded, "Gullian has arrived in Xifan Port! And a military court from the southern forces is with him!" Her tense demeanor concerned about him was now clear. Yet his heart wasn’t anxious but eased at this news. A month in this cell—he was growing moldy! Finally, the trial date had arrived!