This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 205: The Fierce Battle at Winter Willow Camp!

Chapter 205: Chapter 205: The Fierce Battle at Winter Willow Camp!

Winter Willow Camp was ablaze with fire.

Around twenty looters, led by two Centurions, launched their attack from two directions in the thick early morning fog of the forest.

There was no warning.

Gunshots suddenly erupted!

The old gatekeeper watching the village entrance was shot dead. As five Molotov cocktails soared toward the village, smashing into the wooden fences and houses near the entrance, the raid officially began.

The looters, clad in jackets made of hyena skin and adorned with necklaces of human bones and beast teeth, wielded their Ripper Rifles, bayonet attached, as if they were lances.

Screams and wails rose and fell, mingling with rude, hearty laughter and gunshots, turning the place into a living purgatory.

The village fences caught massive fire, with flames spreading from north to south. In the thick smoke, it was impossible to tell how many attackers there were.

Men and women desperately ran towards the outskirts of the village. In the chaos, some stumbled and fell, quickly caught up by the pursuing looters.

Those seen as valuable were brutally beaten and bound, tossed aside on the road. Those deemed worthless had a knife slit their throats or a stab to the back, executed on the spot.

Some initially tried to resist, courageously picking up hunting guns and bows and arrows, even with a mindset of perishing together. Heaving up axes used for chopping wood, they charged.

However, the harsh reality was that almost all resistance was in vain.

In the melee of cold weapons, these survivors, both in skill and equipment, were no match for the looters.

Those who picked up guns to resist barely fired a few shots before they were pinned down behind cover by a barrage of bullets, either killed in the streets during a retreat or turned into sieves by numerous bayonets.

In fact, the survivors of Winter Willow Camp were not weak.

But regrettably, they encountered Chewing Bone Tribe...

These people were completely different from any raiders they had faced before!

They were not only well-equipped but also well-trained.

During their advance, some covered with shooting, and during a charge, they knew when to cluster together and when to disperse.

Even after breaking into the stronghold, they did not scatter, but systematically swept through the village to annihilate any resistance, segregating and driving fleeing survivors to the northwest corner of the village.

There was a mud wall there, the thickest wall of the entire village.

With no nearby houses or footholds, the cornered survivors were like lambs in a pen, only able to wait meekly for slaughter, entirely at the mercy of their captors.

A man with a jawbone-sized skull hanging around his neck and a jutting lower jaw, holding a tape-wrapped automatic rifle, fired two shots into the sky and commanded the panicked survivors fiercely,

"Bow your heads and kneel on the ground!"

"If I see any slight movement, I’ll smash your skulls with the butt of my gun!"

His name was Yu, one of the Centurions under Gang Ya, tasked along with another Centurion named "Iron Knee" to lead their men in search of supplies in the nearby area.

As Yu’s gaze swept over these villagers, it lingered on a few reasonably attractive women.

A flicker of greed flashed in his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure, muttered to himself, and then turned to instruct his followers to plunder the supplies.

"Move quickly! Take the food and anything valuable, burn the rest!"

"No dawdling!"

"Those looking for fun, wait until we return to the base; there will be plenty of time to mess around!"

The supplies intended for the main force had been stolen by a group of unidentified survivors. Their leader decided not to let it go and opted to raid the nearby survivors’ settlement for the food, clothing, and fuel they needed.

Before departing, one of the advisers in dark blue coats had specially instructed them to strike quickly, not to linger in battle or waste time seeking pleasure.

If not for the prestige of the adviser, Yu would never have left so easily, he would have let his brothers seek some "fun."

In the Chewing Bone Tribe, those consultants in dark blue coats ranked highly.

They had never fought in wars before and had never won so effortlessly.

Thanks to those in dark blue coats, they now felt invincible, not only settling scores with their foes but also sweeping through the entire Central Region, scarcely any survivor settlements standing in their way.

The culture of the looters was to worship the strong. Whoever could lead them to more slaves and treasures was their alpha.

Even Gang Ya held the consultant in high regard, and Yu did not want to be made an example and executed.

He well knew his leader’s nature; merciless to both foes and friends alike.

The twenty or so severely wounded comrades found in the morning were all executed swiftly by their leader. Yu still remembered his leader’s words at that time—

They are burdens, undeserving of life!

The villagers were herded to the water well in the village center.

This was the village square.

Edibles, clothes, utilities... all somewhat valuable spoils were brought out of the houses and dumped onto the open space.

Two looters stepped forward, using the bayonets at the end of their guns to prod, sorting these villagers into two groups: useful and useless.

They would kill a group that could not move, serving as their reserve food supply.

Then, they would force the remaining to carry their spoils, bringing them along back to their base.

There, an even more brutal purgatory awaited...

Watching a looter carry away a bag of ram’s horn potatoes from his house, an old man kneeling on the ground found courage from somewhere, and, rolling and scrambling, he threw himself at the looter’s leg, desperately pleading.

"That’s the last of our food at home, please... leave us something at least."

The looter was initially stunned, then a grim smile crossed his face, and he smashed the old man to the ground with the butt of his gun.

"Who do you think you are, old timer!"

Leave some?

Think about how to keep your life first!

With a loud bang, the old man fell in the snow, blood seeping from his head.

A Looter grabbed his collar, dragged him from the middle of the road to the side, stripped off his clothes, and threw them into the pile of spoils.

The surrounding survivors were silent as the grave.

The brutality of those Looters made their limbs go cold, not a single person dared to speak, much less resist.

Blood trailed from the entrance of the village to the central well, permeating deep into their hearts.

These people were devils!

Looking at the grandfather lying in the corner, a boy, covering his screaming sister’s mouth, glared at the man who had killed his grandfather, his eyes shimmering with hatred.

It seemed he caught the boy’s stare.

The Looter looked at him with interest, as if he had found something amusing, and walked over to him.

"Was that old man your dad?"

The boy didn’t speak, just glared at him.

The Looter narrowed his eyes, suddenly noticing the girl in his arms, a wicked thought flashing through his eyes.

Thinking of something fun, he pulled a rusted dagger from his boot and threw it in front of the boy, saying in a tone as though teasing a child.

"Here’s your chance."

"Beat me, and I’ll let you go."

"Lose, and she’s mine."

A kneeling neighbor grabbed the boy and pleaded with the looter.

"He’s just a child... let him go."

"Did I ask you?"

The Looter impatiently pulled the bolt of his rifle.

However, before he could raise the muzzle, it was as if something had struck him; a burst of blood mist sprayed from his back.

Bang—

The thunderous gunshot echoed far and wide in the forest.

Blood spurted from the Looter’s chest, splattering the faces of the surrounding survivors, who in panic, lay down on the ground, scattering into buildings, hiding behind cover.

The surrounding Looters couldn’t stop it in time, their faces also filled with panic, their eyes searching everywhere, firing towards the slopes outside the village.

However, they chose the wrong direction, bullets rattled down on a snow pile about a hundred meters away from Night Ten and Wild Wind.

Seeing that no one noticed him, the boy picked up the rusted dagger from the ground and pounced on the Looter who had been shot in the chest, stabbing manically at his chest as if chopping meat.

The Looter initially twitched, struggling to dodge, until blood poured from his mouth and nostrils, his eyes rolled back, and he moved no more.

Nearby Looters, cursing, lifted their rifles, firing a burst at the boy.

In the chaos, bullets whizzed past, unknown where they hit, the boy somersaulted to the right side of the body, dead or alive, couldn’t be told.

"Fuck, I can’t stand this anymore!"

This game is great, but sometimes it’s just too real!

Night Ten cursed and pulled the bolt, aiming at the Looter who had targeted the boy, and pulled the trigger again.

Bang—

This time, it was a headshot!

The Looter with his head blown off lay silently in the snow beside the stone well.

"It’s fine, Fang Chang and Quit Smoking just got here... a second early or a second late doesn’t matter."

Taking a deep breath, Wild Wind calmly held the binoculars, scanning the village for a moment before quickly locking onto a man leaning forward by the jaw.

"2 o’clock, see the tent with the red cloth? The man next to it, with a skull on his chest, likely the Looter leader."

"I see him."

"Take him out—"

As he was speaking, Wild Wind suddenly saw the man’s gaze shooting straight at him.

In the instant their eyes met, the man leaped like a panther to the side.

Bang—

The gunshot echoed, the bullet hit the snow, kicking up a string of snowflakes.

Night Ten, pulling the bolt, bewilderedly moved his eyes from the scope, unable to believe he had dodged the shot.

"What the fuck? What’s going on?"

"We’re on the west side..." Wild Wind looked up at the rising sun in the east, his expression grave, "We got careless."

The west side was a slope.

But facing the sunlight!

Now that the sun had risen, and the morning fog had cleared, it was likely the reflection from the sniper scope that had given away their position!

However, Wild Wind felt that it wasn’t that simple.

The man’s insight and reaction speed were almost unbelievably fast.

At that moment, Wild Wind suddenly remembered the battle with the Blood Hand Clan, where The Manager had hammered down the "Bear."

Could it be...

An Awakener!?

Night Ten, who missed his shot, didn’t stop. He immediately adjusted his aim for the next target and killed a looter who was lying next to the well with a single shot.

"Third one!"

If he couldn’t take down the leader, it was still good to reduce their number.

However, at that moment, a burst of bullets suddenly came from afar, whizzing over their heads.

Although no shots hit, Night Ten and Wild Wind were forced to retreat back down the slope.

"Damn! How are these looters so fiercely armed!"

"..."

Wild Wind didn’t speak; he silently took a wooden-handle grenade from his waist, carefully peeked from behind cover, and picked up his binoculars to search the village. He soon locked onto the source of the gunfire.

The man held an automatic rifle, beneath the barrel hung a bipod and a circular drum magazine.

What a piece.

An automatic rifle modified into a squad machine gun?

"Distance 250 meters, fuse time 6 seconds, initial velocity needs to be over 41 seconds... no, even faster," Wild Wind muttered to himself as he calculated in his mind.

Under normal circumstances, thrown objects couldn’t reach that far, nor could they achieve the initial velocity of a javelin.

But...

His right hand was no ordinary hand.

Not to mention a javelin.

Even cannon shelling was nothing for him!

With a powerful swing of his arm, the grenade flew from Wild Wind’s hand, tracing a parabola toward the village.

The light machine gun’s bullets quickly came flying, suppressing him back, but as a loud explosion echoed from afar, the fierce gunfire suddenly flared upward, whizzing over the treetops and abruptly stopped.

Snow from the treetops fell, covering both men.

Night Ten shook his head, climbed out of the snow pile, and excitedly spoke while remounting his sniper rifle.

"Damn, bro, over two hundred meters fuck, you’re practically a human mortar!"

Movies wouldn’t dare shoot like this!

Picking up the binoculars again to observe, Wild Wind replied emotionlessly.

"This right hand can adjust its strength... got quite used to it."

"Awesome! But seriously, what if your equipment blows up, would using your original hand be uncomfortable—"

"Shut up."

Their position had been exposed.

Normally, this would be the time to move.

But here was a forest, and only the western slope provided a good vantage over the village; even if they moved, there would be no better sniping spot.

Moreover, Fang Chang and Smoking Quitting Brother had already reached the east gate of the village, needing support right then!

Leading with his Sickle Assault Rifle, Smoking Quitting Brother charged through the main gate first, roaring as he moved forward with Fang Chang’s support from the arrows.

Night Ten, having reset his gun, cleanly pulled the trigger, taking out a rifleman who had his sights on the duo, covering their continued advance.

Attacks launched from both far and near caught the village looters off guard.

In just 5 minutes of combat, more than twenty looters had been reduced by forty percent.

The remaining looters could only hide inside buildings, relying on cover and obstacles to dodge the sniper’s harvesting, stuck in a stalemate with the unwelcome guests entering the village.

Morale began to waver!

"I think we can wipe out both their teams!" Night Ten reloaded his rifle, speaking excitedly, "We don’t even need any reinforcements!"

"Don’t get careless, keep your eyes on the target..."

Before he could finish, Wild Wind suddenly saw a red flare shoot up from the village into the sky.

A bad feeling rose from the bottom of his heart.

"We need to move."

"Move?"

Night Ten was slightly stunned, wondering if it was really necessary as the enemies were pinned down in the buildings, unable to make a move.

But just then, the rumble of engines came from afar.

Wild Wind, alarmed, immediately picked up the binoculars and looked towards the direction of the sound.

Two trucks were parked on the northern edge of the forest, about five to six hundred meters away.

Roughly forty people jumped down from the trucks, splitting into four squads, and began advancing quickly from north to south. Their current position was right on the path of the westernmost squad!

Noticing the situation to the north, Night Ten’s face changed instantly.

"Fuck... we’re screwed now."

Forty people!

If they each spit at them, they’d drown in saliva!

Wild Wind also looked troubled.

"Can you hit them?"

Night Ten swallowed, then said.

"Hit shit! I’ve got less than forty bullets left."

He couldn’t possibly take down over forty enemies, not even if he landed headshots with every single shot.

Hearing Night Ten’s response, Wild Wind made a decision in just one second.

"No choice, we need to retreat!"

The mission’s reward was tempting, but the enemy’s strength was beyond their scope of work.

Retreat now meant only losing some ammunition, but continuing to fight meant abandoning all their gear here.

However, almost at the same time he made his decision, the VM on his arm suddenly vibrated.

A popup appeared.

[Mission: Support Winter Willow Camp (Completed)]

[Mission (New): Cooperate with reinforcements to crush the Looters! (In Progress)]

Wild Wind was initially stunned, then a look of ecstatic joy spread across his face as he abruptly looked toward the south.

From the woods, dozens of figures emerged from the silhouette of the forest!

Lying on the ground, Night Ten also saw the situation in the distance and exclaimed with unexpected joy,

"It’s the reinforcements! Our reinforcements have arrived!"

Before he finished speaking, accompanying the sound of the charge, the cries and shouts from a distance had already reached a boiling point.

"Brothers, charge!"

"Ollie!"

"Kill!"

The earth-shattering shouts swept from the south to the north, like thousands of troops storming through the forest.

The men hadn’t arrived yet,

but the overwhelming momentum had already terrified the Looters in the village to the point of sweating profusely.

A drop of sweat slid from Yu’s forehead.

Pinned down in a wooden house by a sniper, he didn’t dare to peek outside, nor did he know how long it would take for the reinforcements to arrive.

He knew only one thing.

If they didn’t retreat now, he and his brothers would die horribly!

"Retreat! This sounds like at least a hundred-man team!" Iron Knee, hiding in another wooden house, yelled out loud to him.

Reaching an agreement with another Centurion, Yu immediately made the decision and yelled,

"Retreat!"

"Everyone retreat!"

Inside Winter Willow Camp.

The Looters could no longer hold out and started fleeing from their cover and the wounded, escaping from the occupied cabins and shacks toward the north.

The gunshots gradually faded.

The survivors hiding in cupboards, under beds, and in ruins, walked out from their hiding places.

Gazing at the destroyed village and the bodies scattered on the ground, they looked bewildered. Soon, some began to cry, or silently knelt on the ground.

It was less about despair,

and more about numbness.

No one knew how to face all this, nor did anyone know what path to follow next.

The boy found his little sister, tapped her on the back of her head, and muttered a couple of comforting words.

The village chief of Winter Willow Camp, Horse Occupy Hill, found his oldest son on the street leading to the northern gate, his body riddled like a sieve by the Looters.

He held a hunting gun in his hands, his eyes wide open, still clutching two bullets that hadn’t been loaded.

His Adam’s apple moved, the old man closed his eyes and remained silent.

Fang Chang, carrying a mechanical composite bow, and Quit Smoking, holding a rifle, walked out from one side of the street.

Looking at the chaos, and the scene akin to an earthly purgatory, Quit Smoking swallowed his spit.

"Has this game always been this real?"

"It always has, and before you came, we’d seen even worse. Luckily, there’s an emotional blunting filter. Taking off the helmet is like waking from a lucid dream. Any part of the dream that discomforts your brain gets blurred out, so don’t worry," Fang Chang patted Quit Smoking on the shoulder, "You’ll get used to it."

If he couldn’t adapt, there were other, less intense ways to play.

Like fishing, hunting, or gathering mushrooms.

The game didn’t dictate how players had to play. In fact, the operator always encouraged players to find their own way to play within the rules.

Quit Smoking nodded, seemingly getting it.

Indeed...

If this were real life, he’d not only have probably peed his pants from fright, but he’d likely have been scared stiff, unable to joke around with his teammates like this.

They were all ordinary people, not the Crooked Mouth War God.

But then again, bodies in the game were different from those in reality.

If they were as weak as in real life, why even play?

His body, worn out from smoking and drinking, could barely run twenty or thirty meters without gasping for air, let alone rush forward while firing a rifle.

No doubt, any scavenger could pin him to the ground and pummel him...