From Idler to Tech Tycoon: Earth
Chapter 57: Testing II

Chapter 57: Chapter 57: Testing II

Machine gun fire shredded through the front line like a buzzsaw through paper. Screams echoed, mixing with the chaotic roar of artillery and the relentless chattering of MG-42s. Richard’s player character was at the far back of the LCVP, but that didn’t mean he was safe.

"Jump!" a sergeant shouted, his voice raw, throat stripped bare from barking orders. Soldiers hurled themselves over the side of the craft, plunging into the frigid water.

Richard’s character followed, hitting the icy surf with a jolt. The water was deep, deeper than he expected, and his avatar flailed beneath the surface. The weight of the gear dragged him down, helmet filling with saltwater. Around him, other soldiers were sinking, their packs and rifles pulling them under like anchors. Hands clawed at the air, desperate for a breath, but most of them wouldn’t make it.

Richard gritted his teeth, hammering the W key to swim. He kicked, fought, and finally broke the surface, gasping as bullets sprayed the water like hailstones.

Ahead, the beach was a bloody mess. The other LCVPs were in flames, torn apart by artillery fire. Those who managed to get out were being mowed down before they could even hit the sand. The sound design was horrifyingly realistic — the wet thwack of bullets tearing through flesh, the screams of men dying, the metallic clang of helmets hitting the sand.

Richard’s character sprinted for cover, but just as he reached the shingle, a mortar round landed nearby. The screen flashed red.

You Died.

Richard cursed under his breath. He hit Load Checkpoint and respawned in the LCVP, the screams and chaos starting all over again.

This time, he didn’t charge forward. Instead, he dropped to the sand and crawled, pressing his belly into the wet gravel. The game’s Chaos Stat was in full effect — his aim shook with panic, the crosshairs wavering as his character trembled under fire. Every shot was a gamble, and he missed more than he hit.

Across the room, Jack’s screen was a similar scene of carnage. He gritted his teeth as his character’s squad leader shouted, "Get to the craters! Move, move, move!"

Jack’s avatar scrambled forward, but the instant he rose to sprint, a machine gun tore through him, the screen going black.

You Died.

"Come on!" Jack snapped, slamming his fist on the desk. He hit Reload Checkpoint and tried again. This time, he stayed low, crawling through the sand, bullets whizzing overhead. Around him, men screamed as they were ripped apart — one soldier’s legs were blown clean off by a mortar shell. The man clutched at the stumps, fingers digging into the sand, blood pooling beneath him. Another soldier lay on his back, eyes wide, clutching a Bible as he muttered a prayer, even though half his face was missing.

After his sixth try, Jack finally reached a crater. He sucked in a shaky breath, adrenaline still pumping as the chaos raged around him.

Richard’s character lay behind a sand dune, his eyes scanning the battlefield. A soldier’s corpse lay beside him, a M1903A4 scoped rifle still clutched in his dead hands.

"Thanks, buddy," Richard muttered, pressing the Interact key. His character snatched up the rifle, chambering a round.

He scoped in, breath slowing, focus narrowing. Across the field, a German machine gunner reloaded, panicking and fumbling on the ammo box. Richard lined up the shot and fired. The rifle bucked, and the gunner’s head snapped back, a spurt of red mist bursting from his helmet.

Two more machine gunners fell, and the soldiers behind Richard surged forward, sprinting toward the low hump of sand just below the bunkers.

A captain ran up, face smudged with blood and grime. "Bangaloresss!" he roared, waving a hand.

Two soldiers crawled forward, each dragging a long, white pipe packed with explosives. They shoved it beneath the barbed wire and lit the fuse.

"Fire in the hole!"

The blast echoed across the beach, sending sand and shrapnel flying. The barbed wire fence was obliterated, the path to the bunkers clear — except for the sandbagged MG nests still spitting fire down at them.

Richard’s eyes darted around. A soldier huddled nearby, curled up with a bazooka, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

Richard hit Converse and said, "Can I borrow that?"

The soldier blinked, then shoved the bazooka toward him, wordless. Richard crawled forward, the launcher heavy on his shoulder. He aimed carefully, waiting for the machine gunner to reload. The German in the sandbag nest fumbled with a fresh belt of ammo — perfect timing.

Richard squeezed the trigger. The rocket soared forward, the screen vibrating as the explosion tore through the nest. Sandbags, debris, and bodies flew in all directions.

"Nice shot!" the captain shouted. "We’ve got a way in!"

The mission was far from over, but the tide was turning. Soldiers swarmed the trench lines, pushing forward, clearing the way for the next wave. Richard’s character moved with them, rifle at the ready.

At the end of the mission, the screen faded to black, transitioning to the debrief. The game’s Colonel stood before the survivors, his eyes hard, his jaw clenched.

"For exceptional bravery under fire, Private, you are hereby promoted to Corporal," he said, tossing a medal at Richard’s avatar.

The medal spun in the air, glinting in the soft, gray light before it landed in the character’s outstretched hand.

"Good work out there," the Colonel added. "But this war’s far from over."

Meanwhile, across the room, Jack still hadn’t cleared the beach. His character was on his tenth respawn, crouched behind a crater as another wave of German artillery pounded the sand.

Jack’s jaw clenched. "Screw this," he muttered, taking a long gulp of his coffee. "How the hell did you clear it so fast?"

Richard just smiled, leaning back in his chair, his fingers still twitching with residual adrenaline. "I aimed. And I didn’t die."

Richard leaned back, rubbing his eyes. The screen dimmed to black before fading back in, revealing his character standing amidst the smoldering wreckage of Utah Beach. The sounds of distant gunfire echoed across the shoreline, a grim reminder that the fight was far from over.

Unlike traditional single-player campaigns that end abruptly after a mission, World War II: Frontlines was different. The world didn’t stop moving just because the mission was complete. The battlefield was still active, wounded soldiers were being dragged to aid stations, and squads were regrouping, waiting for the next set of orders.

A prompt blinked in the corner of the HUD: Squad Regroup - 100m to the East.

Richard scanned the area. The beach was littered with bodies and smoldering wreckage, and the NPC soldiers continued their routines — some stumbling in a daze, others tending to the wounded or picking through the debris for ammunition.

Curiosity gnawed at him. He aimed his rifle at a nearby soldier and pulled the trigger.

Bang!A red warning flashed across the screen: Friendly Fire Detected.

Before Richard could react, a nearby sergeant tackled him to the ground. The screen blurred as fists rained down, followed by a harsh, gravelly voice."You outta your goddamn mind, Corporal?!"

The screen went black. When it faded back in, Richard’s character was restrained, arms tied behind his back, sitting in a makeshift brig tent. A medic leaned over him, checking his eyes with a flashlight.

"What the hell got into you?" the medic muttered, shaking his head. "Shooting your own men? You lucky they didn’t put a bullet in you."

Richard smirked and reloaded the last save, just before he shot the soldier.

This time, he played it straight. Instead of going rogue, he decided to explore the dynamic dialogue system. He approached a nearby soldier, a private sitting on a crate, smoking a cigarette.

Richard hit the Interact key, and spoke through a Voice Proximity Chat.

"You okay, soldier?" He said

The private glanced up, eyes hollow. "Am I okay? I just watched half of my brothers from Able company get chewed up by MG fire. What do you think?"

Richard noted how the dialogue adjusted based on the character’s state. This private was clearly in shock, his responses clipped and raw. He made a mental note: Expand NPC various emotional responses based on mission context.

Richard moved on, testing other NPCs. Some brushed him off, too busy hauling supplies. Others engaged in short conversations, their lines varied but realistic. One soldier even handed him a spare first aid kit after Richard asked for it.

After a few more interactions, a familiar voice shouted from behind.

"Corporal!"

Richard turned. It was Sergeant Daley, the same AI who’d led his squad during the beach landing. The sergeant’s face was streaked with dirt and blood, his helmet dented from a near miss.

"Command wants us to regroup," Daley barked. "We’re moving out to reinforce the 101st in Saint-Marie Du Mont. They’re holding the line, but Kraut resistance is still heavy. Grab your gear and rally up."

A new objective marker appeared: Regroup with Squad - 50m East.

Meanwhile, across the room, Jack was having a completely different experience.

His screen was a chaotic mess of gunfire and shouting. Jack’s character had gone rogue, shooting his commanding officer in the leg and sprinting down the beach, a line of furious AI soldiers chasing after him like he’d just stolen a tank in GTA IV.

"Get back here, you dumbass!" one of the soldiers shouted, firing wild shots as Jack’s character vaulted over a sandbag wall.

Jack was laughing hysterically, unloading rounds into the air while the soldiers closed in. "I love this game!" he howled, cackling as he threw an M1 grenade at a pursuing lieutenant.

"Boom!" he shouted, sending the lieutenant flying.

Jack wiped tears from his eyes, grinning as the screen faded to black. "Best. Game. Ever."

Richard, on the other hand, was still in the zone. The objective marker pulsed on his HUD, urging him to move east toward Saint-Marie Du Mont. The sound of distant gunfire grew louder as he approached, the screams of men and the thunder of artillery mixing in a chaotic symphony.

"Alright," Richard muttered, rolling his shoulders and gripping the mouse tighter. "Let’s see what this game’s really made of."