Chapter 856 - This Game Is Too Realistic

### Chapter 856: The Beginning of Chaos **Western Front of the Boro Province, Sulake County** Upon returning to the action base, Peter first ensured the injured were properly cared for, then made his report to his superiors about the allied troops who had come under artillery fire. Just as this issue seemed to conclude, and he was about to return to the barracks for some sleep, gunfire erupted from the northern part of Sulake County. This unexpected event forced Peter to gather his men once more and head to the rendezvous point, where they boarded an armored personnel carrier parked at a farm entrance with their centurion. Riding in the open-top vehicle, the young soldiers around were visibly eager and restless. "Judging by the gunfire, it's at least a hundred-man squad." "…Most likely the Mammoth Nation's resistance forces! Heard they're elite, equipped with the Alliance's exoskeletons." "We've got those too." Back in the Great Desert, while battles were plentiful, there were hardly any intense engagements. Especially given that the 170,000-man force led by Olat was stationed at Eternal Night Port. There, they had air support, artillery, and shallow-water gunboats assisting from the coast. Their opponents were either insurgents armed with primitive rifles or mutated tribes with gray skin. Many young soldiers never even saw where their enemies were; victory was often declared after a single barrage of artillery. As for the mutants hiding within city ruins, they were generally left alone—engaging them in the deep inland deserts yielded no tangible benefits. While the legion coveted lands under the sun, they didn't plan on taking all of them. Regardless, the prospect of finally facing a respectable opponent excited both rank-and-file soldiers and their officers. Amidst the discussions, an older veteran suddenly furrowed his brow. "...This gunfire sounds familiar." Peter too sensed something amiss. The continuous gunfire seemed to stem from their own weapons. "Perhaps they're Boro Nation deserters, or maybe Mammoth Nation's guerrillas… hard to say." The Mammoth Nation’s army was designed to meet Alliance standards but also possessed equipment seized from the Gray Wolf Army. After about twenty minutes, right before they arrived, the gunfire ceased. "Engagement site is directly north! Dismount! Everyone move quickly!" Peter led his men out of the vehicle as it stopped in front of a forest—on foot, they advanced through the woods towards the source of the gunfire. After traversing roughly two hundred meters, they finally arrived at the scene, only to find the battle already over. In the dense foliage lay over a hundred bodies, sprawled chaotically. Their deaths were grim, many riddled with bullets or throats slit. Nearby lay karbine rifles and PU-9 submachine guns, confirming Peter's suspicions: this unit wielded legion-issued gear. The centurion to whom Peter had previously entrusted the injured was standing nearby. Recognizing Peter, he approached with a grin. "You’re late. We managed just fine on our own." Surprised to be addressed so directly, Peter glanced at the bodies and asked casually. "Who were they?" "Guerrillas, I reckon. The bastards providing coordinates for the artillery… Damn it." The centurion spat on the ground, still unsatisfied. Mixed among the Boro bodies were some from Wilant. "How about your side?" "Not bad, though we did lose around ten men… But they lost more." Peter remained silent, peering at a muddy, blood-splattered face that seemed familiar. His own centurion arrived then with more soldiers. The centurion who had approached Peter moved aside, sharing a cigarette and a laugh with Peter's superior. Although the battle had concluded, leaving everyone relaxed, Peter noticed that the "allied" soldiers looked grim, lacking the satisfaction of revenge. Puzzled, Peter looked once more at the face he seemed to recognize. Suddenly, he remembered where he’d seen that face earlier, in the afternoon. Then, he'd watched impoverished locals bury what were claimed to be fellow members of the Celestial Army with shovels. Swallowing nervously, guided by intuition, Peter squatted to search the pockets of one supposed tenant. He unearthed some blood-stained soil fragments. Indeed, it was them. In silence, Peter wiped the blood and dirt from his hands and stood, noticing nearby soldiers watching him intently. "A well-fought skirmish." Catching the eye of a nearby young soldier, Peter slapped his shoulder before walking away without further comment. He didn't question the war’s righteousness nor felt a need to champion those perceived as weak. Yet, confusion and unease weighed heavy, questioning the purpose of it all. His officer had finally extinguished his cigarette and finished conversing with the other centurion. "Thanks for handling those eyes hovering over us. Now we can rest easy." "Heh, no need to thank me; your backup was timely." After exchanging pleasantries, the centurion gestured for his men to return to their transport. Before boarding, Peter sidled up to his commanding officer, whispering. "Those didn’t seem like Mammoth Nation scouts… Who sends a hundred-man squad for recon?" Even if there was a recon-specific hundred-man squad, they wouldn’t cluster all together. Peter spoke cautiously, not wanting to expose potential misconduct but rather concerned about overlooking genuine scouts, which could spell disaster. However, before he could finish speaking, his commander gave him a telling look. "Peter, everyone makes mistakes, especially in the dead of night. Mistaken identity’s understandable… We're all colleagues—we see each other every day. Understand?" Facing his commander’s gaze, Peter involuntarily held his breath. Though no green recruit, experienced in the camp, he realized how little he truly grasped. He thought of a newly recruited soldier he’d recently reprimanded. After a long pause, Peter nodded. "I understand… I'm just worried about other recon teams. If we relax here and they discover our deployments in Sulake County—" Pleased with Peter’s understanding, the commander smiled and patted his shoulder. "Precisely, there are surely other scouts nearby. We just hooked a big one, and if I were them, I'd surely snoop around here for more fresh intel—" Before finishing his thought, gunfire erupted from the center of Sulake County. Both men were taken aback by the sound. This time, the gunfire wasn’t solely from legion weapons; mixed in were distinctly "Allied-style" bursts. Momentarily, the centurion wore a peculiar expression. "…Looks like we snagged a fish too." Indeed, in a sense, the centurion was right. The 171,000-man force stationed in Sulake County had indeed snagged a big one. At a central county farm, within a granary, an entire hundred-man squad surrounded the structure. A ten-man leader armed with an assault rifle stepped forward with authority. "Surrender! You're surrounded!" Listening to the demands outside, Daoguan's Dog glanced at his LD-50 carbine, then at the rows of bullet holes in the wall, anxiety creeping in. "Damnit! These Wilant bastards must have cheats!" After directing allied artillery, Daoguan's Dog ventured into Sulake County, expecting it to be smaller. With no satellite navigation and his drone depleted of power, the similar-looking farms and fields left him lost. Forgetting his way back, he ended up wandering straight into a Wilant patrol. Initially mistaking them for locals, he approached to ask for directions, even greeting them. When their eyes met, both sides froze. Realizing his mistake, Daoguan's Dog reacted first—bolting away. Stunned initially by his flight, the patrol soon snapped to action, grabbing their gear and chasing him. An intense firefight erupted between the fields and woods. Due to the legion's night vision equipment and his own limited resources—a mere carbine and two magazines—Peter had no choice but to admit defeat swiftly. He discarded his VM and drone before being forced to hide inside the granary. In his desperation, Daoguan's Dog, much like other fumbling fools, instinctively assumed that it wasn't his lack of skill but rather the enemy's advanced capabilities that were to blame. Yet, complaining was futile now. He was torn between eradicating himself to "cover his tracks" or letting the story play out and get captured. Logically, the latter option seemed more advantageous—it could provide insights into the legion's frontline deployments. Additionally, he hadn’t saved progress in several months while accompanying Eagle. Losing two levels upon death would be an absolute disaster! Seeing no movement from the spy hiding inside the granary, the Wilant command sergeant exchanged glances with the centurion standing not far behind and took out a white phosphorus grenade. Just before pulling the pin, a rifle flew out from the granary. "I... I... sur... ren..." Damn it. How do you say "surrender" in Human Federation language again? With hands on his head, Daoguan's Dog stepped out, realizing with mounting frustration that he'd forgotten the word. The Wilant soldiers guarding the granary's entrance exchanged bewildered looks. "Is this guy mentally challenged?" "...Could be a trap." "Sending someone like this as a scout? Is the alliance running out of people?" The command sergeant appeared to share their doubts but decided this wasn’t the time to dwell on it. He scowled and signaled with his hand. "Take him away!" A soldier stood to attention, then swiftly bound the protesting captive with rope, slinging him onto an APC parked outside the granary. "Hey, can you be a bit gentler!" Daoguan's Dog shouted angrily as pain shot up his back. Displeased with his obstinance, the soldier alongside him struck him with the butt of his rifle. "Stay quiet!" A dull groan escaped as the blow left Daoguan's Dog dizzy, teetering on the edge of disconnection. The soldier sat beside him, banging the outside of the vehicle. "Let's move! Back to base!" "Roger that." The APC roared to life, taking a sharp turn before navigating the bumpy dirt paths toward the nearby village. Lying in the dark, Daoguan's Dog tried to memorize the route, but soon he realized he didn’t recognize any landmarks—not even knowing his current location. Sighing, he abandoned the effort. After a bumpy ride in darkness, the vehicle finally reached its destination. The Wilant soldier beside him grabbed his collar and roughly dragged him out, tossing him onto the muddy ground like a ragdoll. "Get up!" Covered in mud, Daoguan's Dog groaned inwardly but wisely swallowed his pride, rising unsteadily. Just wait! Find out where you are and I'll call in "Demon 55" to wipe you out! The soldier ignored him, nudging him forward with his rifle's muzzle. This seemed to be a temporary base, with minimal setup—some tents set up beside civilian houses, others simply requisitioned homes. Before fully assessing the base, Daoguan's Dog was pushed into a dark room where the door was slammed shut. Outside, silence prevailed, save for the croaking of frogs and the rustle of insects. After a while, as he pondered logging off, footsteps finally approached. A clatter of chains later, the wooden door opened, revealing Centurion Rose. Upon seeing a familiar face in such chaotic circumstances, Daoguan's Dog froze, silently praying that he wasn't recognized. It wasn't impossible, given that he spoke the Human Federation language poorly. He mostly stayed silent or chimed in occasionally, possibly being mistaken for a lackey and forgotten. However, fate wasn't on his side. Rose, squinting slightly, aimed a flashlight at his face. Momentarily blinded, Daoguan's Dog wary anticipated trouble. Sure enough, Rose chuckled coldly. "I recognize you; you're one of the Alliance's envoys." Guessing he couldn't hide anymore. Upon hearing "Alliance," Daoguan's Dog sighed inwardly, offering an awkward smile. Attempting to deny it, he found himself clueless about expressing this sentiment. He usually relied on VM subtitles for communication, understanding fewer words than his limited Japanese. Now, without the VM, he was deaf and mute, incapable of even comprehending complex sentences. Yet, Rose misinterpreted his silence as defiance, smirking coldly. "You should confess everything—it might spare you some suffering." "..." Seeing the NPC's growing sternness, cold sweat surfaced on Daoguan's Dog's forehead. This plot skip malfunctions! He assumed Rose might start interrogating him, yet he didn't understand whatever gibberish the man was speaking. How was he supposed to bluff his way out? "Speak!" With no response forthcoming, Rose's volume suddenly increased, his eyes boring into Daoguan's Dog. "I’ll ask you one last time. Why would an 'official representative' of the Alliance be at the front lines? What’s your mission here?" Daoguan's Dog: "??" "Playing dumb, huh… Very well." Rose smirked knowingly, nodding at the menacing Wilant soldier standing by. "I don’t care how you do it, open his mouth… Just leave him alive." Daoguan's Dog: "???" With a predatory grin, the soldier gazed at his captive like a predator eyeing prey. Cracking his knuckles ominously, he nodded fiercely. "Understood!" Daoguan’s Dog comprehended this word yet felt despair. Seeing Rose leave the dimly lit room and the NPC soldier approaching menacingly, fear crept across his tightly drawn face. "Wait, wait a moment…" No way! This game can't be this realistic, right?! … Perhaps due to historical reasons, Wilant soldiers excelled not only in combat but also in coercion. In ten agonizing minutes, unable to endure further humiliation, Daoguan’s Dog logged off, tossing his headset aside in frustration before jumping into the group chat. "Dads, help me! I've been caught by those big-nosed bastards!" Seeing his message, Eagle, Stick, and Wolf, who had recently logged off, quickly responded. Cunning Wolf: "Damn, didn’t I tell you to scout their front lines? How’d you end up captured?" Daoguan's Dog: "I did scout their front. I saw an artillery strike flip a whole squad and went further… Who knew I’d run into their patrol." Troublemaker Stick: "You all mock Daoguan's Dog for his failures. I see the opposite: when he acts, it's major news. (sarcastic)" Farsighted Eagle: "The concerning part is that we were seen at West Sail Port, even posing as Alliance envoys… Did they identify you?" Daoguan's Dog: "They hadn’t, but I ran into Rose! Isn’t he related to the battlefield big shot? Could he vouch for me? QAQ" Cunning Wolf: "Great, it's someone familiar." Troublemaker Stick: "Not necessarily bad; just deny it. Unilateral accusations are futile—just their own delusion." Daoguan's Dog: "I didn't admit anything! I hardly understood what that guy was saying… Guys, is there hope for me? QAQ" Farsighted Eagle: "Calm down first. Can you determine your current location?" Daoguan's Dog: "…Not sure, maybe west of the artillery point? Within a 50-kilometer radius? I recall a farm nearby. QAQ" Troublemaker Stick: "Be specific. Sulake County spans two to three million acres; half’s farmland. Which farm are you describing?" Daoguan's Dog: "I...don't know." Cunning Wolf: "...It's hopeless, better to end it yourself." Troublemaker Stick: "Sigh, this is tricky. At best, we can help recover your VM, assuming it hasn't been picked up by some local." Daoguan's Dog: "Come on, brothers... I haven't saved in months." Farsighted Eagle: "This really is a tough spot. Let's brainstorm some ideas... See if you can figure a way out, and if not, maybe gather some intel before it’s over." Cunning Wolf: "...I'll log on and inquire about any guerrilla groups active in New York State. If I recall correctly, Rose is a confidant of Olat, the leader of the 170,000-man unit, which could indicate a key strategic area." Daoguan's Dog: "I definitely saw a lot of tents!" Farsighted Eagle: "Try to gather more intel, or perhaps bribe the locals... If the opportunity arises." ... The annihilation of an entire Mammoth Nation recon company in the Sulake County war zone, along with the capture of an Alliance soldier, greatly boosted the Southern Legion's front-line morale! Commander Olat even personally visited the front to award the centurion who achieved such merits, encouraging the troops to continue their great work and strive for further accomplishments. While Olat was well aware of the exaggerated details in the war reports, that was of little concern at the moment. Since initiating the war, they needed to build momentum to garner more support. And the best way to build momentum for a war is by crafting battlefield heroes. It wasn't just the annihilated recon company being lauded. The report also counted over a hundred W-2 planes that had conducted suicide attacks earlier. Moreover, the captain leading the aviation unit against these attacks allegedly "downed" ten enemy aircraft from the Alliance and was awarded an ace pilot's medal. At the same time, the Jin Galon Port's "Survivor Daily" published a headline the following day. "155mm Artillery's Mighty Performance! Annihilates Entire Legion Company!" Below this headline was an image depicting artillery deployed in the woods, spewing fiery blasts while the Moon Clan's resistance colonel and Alliance volunteers stood shoulder to shoulder. The newspapers barely hit the stands before being snatched up. At the noodle shop in the harbor district, a group of patrons crowded around a newspaper, exchanging sighs. "That Abobsek is fighting shamefully, two divisions chased by a regiment!" "Rashi's the real fighter!" "Aye, we were wrong about him! Whether hero or coward, you can tell after a fight!" "It's too early to say! The Boro Nation’s army is almost out of New York State. Rashi holding onto the Dog State seems unlikely, and if he loses it, how’s that different from Abobsek?" "But the Legion’s airships are unimpressive; for all the boasting, they haven't shown much." "That's not fair, you haven’t seen their power—" "Have you?" "Uh...no, actually." Outside the noodle shop, near a newsstand, Eugen held a newspaper with a worried expression. After the recent disaster, the Family Committee of West Sail Port faced Legion crackdowns, with leaders like Zaid missing, and Eugen himself exiled to Jingalon Port. Though urged by friends in the Worker’s Union to leave the troubled region, he couldn't let go of his suffering comrades and thus lingered. He made it a habit to buy "Survivor Daily" every day to monitor war developments and seek any news about the Family Committee. To be honest, he wasn't particularly fond of Zaid. It wasn't just Alisa's warnings—his instincts often told him that Zaid's true nature might be vastly different from his outward demeanor. Nonetheless, he wasn’t a child; personal biases wouldn’t dictate his judgment of another. For now, every word and action from Zaid seemed genuinely aimed at uniting the suffering survivors. Unlike Rashi, who sold his people to toil in southern seas, Zaid genuinely descended to the grassroots, taught, shared hardships, and called them family. Eugen questioned himself, knowing Lovett couldn’t achieve this, nor even Sperger. And he lacked the ability to peer into someone’s heart, to see what truly lay within. Regardless of who Zaid was, the unified laborers deserved their support. And the family members who painstakingly came together… Turning to the last page, Eugen finally found the much-anticipated news. "Boro Nation's Supreme Leader and Federation President Abobsek Meets with Family Committee President" "...So he’s in the capital." Relief washed over Eugen. He hadn't perished that night after all. In any case, still being alive was good enough... To be continued.