Chapter 931 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 931: This NPC is Too Real! In a nondescript residence in Heishui Alley, Meta sat beside a telegraph machine, meticulously transcribing a report of local developments to his superiors in Serpent Prefecture of the Boro Province. [At noon today, the Alliance Army successfully landed at Evernight Harbor. Local garrisons have been pushed back into the northern urban areas and Heishui Alley. Calculating from the day the Alliance faced nuclear strikes and declared war mobilization, it took them barely a week from logistics dispatch to personnel landing. This efficiency is truly terrifying, completely overturning our previous analysis of their wartime capabilities.] [Besides the mobilization within the Alliance territory, the South Sea Alliance's obedience during the war is astonishing, and the Far East Enterprise declared war simultaneously with the Alliance's declaration. The kingdoms in the Luoxia Province have also responded. Their hard and soft power is truly terrifying! If unnecessary, avoid conflict with them. Even if conflict is unavoidable, be cautious not to overstep boundaries!] [Also, referencing the series of actions the Alliance took after entering Boulder City, I judge they might take similar actions in Evernight Harbor, by cracking down on crime and winning people over. When that happens, Heishui Alley will be engulfed in chaos!] [Therefore, I've taken the liberty of destroying the entire 20 tons of 'goods' by sinking them into the sea and ordered all levels of our network to remain silent and bide their time.] After sending the telegram, Meta sighed deeply, hid the radio under a secret compartment beneath his bed, and took out a small palm-sized wooden box from the same compartment. Inside this box were items proving his identity and personal belongings from Boro Province, like a family association booklet and a photo of Mahatma Zayid. Thinking of the good times in Serpent Prefecture, Meta glanced at them one last time, then decisively kneeled, bowed, and resolutely set them ablaze with a lighter. Light and shadow always coexist; when someone stands in the light, another must bear the shadow. Leaving these things around poses a danger. Both to himself and the family association. However, he didn't notice that a subordinate standing at the door had seen everything. Watching his boss burn the photo of the revered leader, the young man held his breath. He had come to deliver documents but witnessed such heresy. After a moment of internal struggle, he ultimately remained silent, secretly took a photo, and with a heart pounding violently, silently slipped away from the doorway. Leverage! He now had leverage against his superior! ... Meanwhile, in the adjoining port district, a group of Jungle Corps players clad in K-10 heavy exoskeletons was patrolling. As they moved along the coastline, one player suddenly halted, leaving the group to crouch by the railing. Staring at the floating dead fish on the sea surface, he muttered to himself, "How strange." The squad leader walked over and, looking at the back of his comrade’s head, asked, "What’s strange?" Pointing at the fish on the water, the player puzzledly said, "Look, there must be tens of thousands of them... and we didn’t even bomb the fish when we landed, right?" To avoid civilian casualties and to relish close combat, they hadn’t used naval artillery much, leaving armored units mostly to the aircraft. The leader gave him a quizzical glance, "What’s there to be curious about..." Not just a few dead fish... okay, maybe not just a few. He eyed the undulating sea, his brow slightly furrowing. One could observe a plethora of floating fish, each exhibiting unique shapes and colors. However, he wasn't an angler, and could recognize but a few of the species. "... It is indeed strange." Electric fishing, perhaps? But it seemed unrelated to them. "Right? I suspect there might be a side quest here..." While speaking, the player crouching by the sea reached out to prod a nearby fish, curious if these belly-up critters were still alive. Unexpectedly, as soon as his finger touched the slick scales, the seemingly lifeless fish sprang to life, flapping its tail furiously, launching itself toward him. Startled, the player quickly leaped back to avoid a close encounter with its mouth, but not before getting splashed with fishy water from its tail. "Holy crap! This fish can fly!?" Watching the fish flop on the ground, trying to wriggle its way down the street, the player's face lit up as if discovering a new world. It seemed unaware of being a fish, attempting to waddle onto the street like a human. However, the leader yawned, losing interest in his squad member's discovery. "If there’s a side quest here, I’ll change my surname to yours—" Before he finished, thousands of fish on the sea surface simultaneously roared to life, leaping out of the water collectively like synchronized swimmers, raining down on the shore. Perhaps driven by a sense of mission or imagining themselves as terrestrial creatures, they attempted to escape the suffocating confines of the ocean. In an instant, tens of thousands of fish flopped along the hundreds of meters wide coastline. They gasped for air, but soon expelled their last bubbles. The strongest fish perished first, followed by the thumb-sized clownfish, then finally the shrimp nestled within crevices. Witnessing this incredulously, not only were the players patrolling the shore dumbfounded, but even the Southern Army remnants hiding in alleys, poised to ambush, were stunned. "... What’s going on?" the leader wondered aloud, intending to report the situation to Brother Ji, when out of nowhere, a swarm of Boro locals rushed toward the beach. They included dock and laundry workers, and even fishermen hired by Velantans. Some wielded buckets, others fishing nets; a few even brought pots and pans. "Hurry, the fish are still alive!" "Don’t steal my net! It’s mine!" "Damn it, don't block my path!" "I’m taking this one! Try to snatch it and see!" Within a few breaths, the coastline was crowded with delighted Boro locals. The scene of bickering and bargaining was as lively as a festival. Normally cautious, they weren't afraid to throw caution to the winds when seizing an opportunity for free gains. Perhaps recalling their alliance with the League, or remembering the restrained nature of these principled people who never harmed the unarmed, or maybe it was some other odd reason, they temporarily forgot the ongoing war. An abundance of fish, enough for days! "Wait, don’t rush! Good grief, hasn’t anyone thought these fish are acting weird?" the leader exclaimed in disbelief, but nobody paid attention. Watching the fish being swept away, the player who first triggered the side quest gaped silently for a long moment. Oh my... These NPCs are way too realistic! ... The seaside incident did not affect the overall progression of the war. By noon, combat in various districts of Evernight Harbor had mostly concluded. Under Captain Stanford’s command, nearly twenty thousand city defense troops and over a hundred thousand military personnel retreated to the northern urban area, planning to regroup and contest Evernight Harbor’s control with the Alliance. However, upon hearing news of Triumph City’s “fall,” the Enterprise’s declaration of war against the Southern Army, and other disheartening updates, morale plummeted, Stanford included. Meanwhile, areas vacated by the city defense troops, including the northwest district, fell under Alliance control. Though some stubborn elements remained, ambushing patrolling players, the sporadic gunfire did not form a cohesive threat, swiftly extinguished on the streets. Originally expecting to handle a full-scale suppression mission, players from the Jungle Corps found the anticipated battle evaporated before it even began. Many Velantans remembered the misdeeds of the city defense troops. Hence, when these Southern Army puppets sought support from others, the only response in their eyes was disappointment and scorn. Knowing this outcome awaited, what were they doing before? In contrast, the residents of Evernight Harbor greeted the Velantan Expeditionary Forces with cheers as they entered the city, celebrating their arrival. Especially in the northwestern district where they had once fought and resisted, people even placed flowers along the roads to welcome their returning compatriots. Marching along the familiar streets, a veteran Velantan soldier with an LD-47 rifle slung over his shoulder called out toward a window. "Haha, Blights, you old rascal, you're still here!" The older man, reclining by the windowsill, laughed back at the street-standing veteran. "I’m going nowhere. Someone has to remember what happened on this street. But look at you, joining the Alliance Army." The veteran wore a proud expression. "I always said I’d return! It's Tyre and his piglets that need to leave, not me!" Watching his animated gestures, the old man at the window grinned, wagging a playful finger. "Hahaha! Here’s to you! By the way, how’s Philly? Still kicking?" The veteran smirked. "He's just an old gun-talker now, claiming he'd join us if not for his arthritis." The elder chuckled. "Sounds like him. So, is the coward still up to his old tricks?" "No, he’s left the gold meddling behind. Teamed up with someone from the New Continent and opened a bank—a good fellow. Thanks to him, we had places to stay when we landed." Noticing the effort his friend was making to keep the conversation going, the elder waved him in. "No point chatting through a window. Come in, I’ll open a bottle of wine." The Velantan veteran quickly shook his head. "Can't do that. Our commander has forbidden us from entering civilian homes." The older man was taken aback. "Even an old friend's invitation?" "Regulations are regulations. No exceptions. We'll chat when we have time." With that, the veteran made a farewell gesture and returned to his squad. From across the street, witnessing this harmonious scene, the captain of the 100th Mountain Division of the Enterprise took a sip of his Rick Five, a product of Goblin Technology, squinted, and remarked with a smile. "They picked a good time." His adjutant, standing beside him, tilted his head. "Good timing for what?" "Extending a helping hand to the Velantans, wearied by the Wasteland Era, just before dawn ends night. Crucially, they empowered the Velantans to achieve their final liberation themselves..." The captain couldn't help but smile. Perhaps the era of wastelands was truly ending. If the launch of the Pioneer only hinted at dawn's arrival, now he could clearly see the first light breaking the horizon. Just then, a broadcast rang out. It seemed the brothers from the Jungle Corps had succeeded in capturing the broadcast station and put it to use. "Survivors of Evernight Harbor, I am the commander of the Alliance Jungle Corps..." "A week ago, your commander Tyre detonated a nuclear bomb at our doorstep, which is why we're standing here with arms." "However, you need not fear. We have no quarrel with the Velantans, nor are we interested in your lands. We will leave as soon as we've captured the culprits." "I believe you too have had enough of that reckless fool. If you wish to fight alongside us, we welcome you to join us. If you're not ready, we won't force you, just don't do anything foolish..." Unlike Elder Fang, Brother Ji wasn't very eloquent, and the other brothers in the Corps tended to be more reserved. Still, he articulated the essentials. After all, the forum brothers also advised them. Suggestions like setting three rules with local residents, eight principles of discipline, and how to report any transgressions by overly zealous comrades. Moreover, he invited all knowledgeable individuals in Evernight Harbor from various social sectors to stand up and shoulder the responsibility of restoring order. It wasn't just the Velantans. This also included the various races living in Heishui Alley. As they had done in the Falcon Kingdom, they selected industry representatives to hand over local governance to the local people once order was restored. Though his words were blunt and unembellished, the message was clear: They were here not for conquest, but for liberation. Listening to the clear and candid speech, the faces filled with trepidation and fear turned into skepticism-tinged hope. That was enough. Midnight Chicken didn’t dream that his impromptu rhetoric would earn complete trust from the locals. Time would prove everything. Their promises were more than just words. As the broadcast repeated, a unit of armed soldiers surrounded the hospital near the governor's mansion. These were members of the Velantan Expeditionary Force's First Regiment "Conde Battalion," named in honor of Conde. Their commander was Kuruman, who proposed the formation of the Velantan Expeditionary Force—a former Evernight Harbor customs officer who, after losing a leg, had resigned. Notably, upon learning of his intentions to return to the battlefield, Arman generously donated a bionic limb to him. Now, not only was his limp gone, but he could easily leap over three meters if needed. Currently, he followed an eager Evernight Harbor citizen to the hospital entrance. The citizen, a Velantan, enthusiastically pointed ahead while walking. "It's just up here, sir. I reckon the underground shelter entrance is through a rarely-used door in the hospital basement." Glancing around the empty hospital lobby, Kuruman asked, "Are you sure?" "I’m sure," the man, with his red, boozy nose, affirmed proudly. "I saw Arhui run in from outside, followed by Captain Willoughby... If you're an Evernight Harbor resident, you'd know them." "The esteemed governor and the garrison captain," a younger soldier next to Kuruman whistled, grinning. "I won't forget those bastards." "They're hardly fit for that title, more like the dogs of bastards," Kuruman cocked his rifle, signaling to his comrades. "Take them alive." "Yes!" With their leader's order, the Velantan soldiers grinned fiercely, striding confidently through the door. At last, they would settle the score with these traitors! Their previous grievances filled them with a sense of overdue satisfaction. Shortly after their entry, loud explosions and gunshots echoed from the basement, soon drowned out by desperate pleas for mercy. "I surrender! Don't kill me!" Dragged out, arms held by soldiers on either side, a disheveled Arhui emerged from the hospital. Behind him limped an equally grime-covered Captain Willoughby. Compared to Arhui, Willoughby was worse off, with a bleeding leg. Perhaps seeking to impress his governor, and delirious from the explosion, he'd attempted to draw his weapon, only for his more astute superior to surrender at the first gunshot. Looking at these two forlorn figures, Kuruman felt no sympathy, just disdain. Standing in the sunlit street, Captain Willoughby glanced up, finally seeing Kuruman's face through swollen eyes. He paused for several seconds before furrowing his brow and muttering, "You... Have I seen you before?" Kuruman lit a cigarette nonchalantly. "Maybe at the docks." Willoughby's pupils shrank to pinpoints, glaring at him as he rasped through cracked lips, "Why betray the Marshal?" Kuruman regarded him with a flat expression. "Shouldn't I ask you that? Why did you betray the Marshal?" With Kuruman's unyielding gaze upon him, Willoughby felt all strength drain from his body, completely unable to muster his usual authority, only stammering defensively. "I... Betray? When did I ever betray the Marshal? You can't just accuse me like that!" Kuruman: "When you turned your guns on the Velantan people, when you chose to become a sycophant of power." Willoughby’s lips turned pale with anger as he attempted to point a finger at Kuruman, but the soldiers flanking him firmly restrained him, rendering him unable to move. "Aren’t you just the same? Acting as the Alliance’s lackey!" "Think what you like. You’re free to say a horse and a mule are the same if you wish." Uninterested in arguing further with him, Kuruman dropped his spent cigarette to the ground and extinguished it under his boot. "Katernod Prison should finally house real criminals, instead of the impoverished non-locals who can’t pay fines." "The residents of Evernight Harbor remember every act you’ve committed. Once we establish the new laws, justice will find you." It wasn’t just Governor Arhui and Captain Willoughby emerging from the underground shelter; other bureaucrats and staff from the governor’s office and garrison were also brought out. Kuruman didn’t make things difficult for them. Instead, he had them placed in separate rooms to diligently write down their career histories, current positions, and the colleagues they worked with regularly. This approach wasn’t only a requirement from the Alliance but also a proven practice from Ganjalon Port experiences. Evernight Harbor’s order still required maintaining, and he would select the trustworthy among them to aid local residents in transitioning from the old regime to the new. As for entrusting him, a captain, with this task, Kuruman believed it was partly because of his local roots and also a sign of the Alliance’s trust. However, Kuruman wasn’t particularly concerned with trust, as he planned to retire once the fighting concluded. With tasks allocated, he felt more at ease. His adjutant draped an arm over his shoulder, jesting, "Finally sent those clowns Arhui and Willoughby packing. Is the thrill of vengeance sweet?" Kuruman smiled lightly. "Vengeance is far from complete. The ones who killed Conde aren’t those two clowns, but the puppeteers holding their leashes." This war was only beginning. Evernight Harbor was merely the first colony they aimed to liberate. Ahead awaited 20 more colonies across 270,000 square kilometers along the Western Desert Coast! And the homeland of the Southern Army as well, including Avante City and 17 other settlements. Every score needed settling comprehensively with the Southern Army. Parting temporarily from his comrades, Kuruman headed to the northwestern district alone. To welcome their arrival and express gratitude for the Alliance’s restraint in bombardment, locals laid flowers along the streets. He picked up a tulip, a symbol of honor, from the roadside and walked to the broadcast station’s gate, gently placing it by the open fence. "I’m back." Velantans never abandon their heroes, even if they’ve never met. With a slight nod, leaving the bouquet as a tribute, Kuruman tightened his grip on the rifle slung across his back. He then turned back, fading into the sunset that stretched along the street behind him... ... (Sorry for the short delay, I’ve been battling a cold, and now a stomach bug. Feels like I've been at the hospital all year. It’s been rough.) To be continued...