This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 228: The Snake Comes Out of Its Hole!

Chapter 228: Chapter 228: The Snake Comes Out of Its Hole!

"I always thought that in FPS games, I was just an emotionless killing machine, and in RPG games, just a quest junkie who loved to rummage through everything."

"Until this morning, I noticed the absence of a familiar figure among the guard squad."

"I didn’t know the name of that guard; I just knew he was probably the oldest among them."

"Like other unnamed NPCs, he had a routine life, his daily tasks limited to training, standing guard, and patrolling. Besides that, he had one day off each week, usually either Thursday or Sunday, when he would go sit by the lake and watch us pass the time fishing."

"Not to brag, but as an experienced angler, I could immediately tell whether someone had the makings of a fisherman. Few people can endure an entire day without a catch, yet he could sit next to us and watch us come up empty-handed all afternoon."

"So I asked Mosquito to make a fishing rod for me and warned him not to add any unnecessary features to it, then I gave it to the old man."

"The old man was delighted, thanked me profusely, and even tried to give me a silver coin. When I refused to accept it, he gave me a dagger the next day. At first, I thought it was a quest item and was quite thrilled, but I later realized it was just an ordinary gift. Nevertheless, the unique feeling was still very interesting."

"I later taught him how to swing the rod, how to bait the hook, and how to make simple traps with bottles to catch leech larvae as fish bait. Sometimes, we would take the fish to the storage or the market to sell; other times, we would grill and eat them."

"I was like Robinson Crusoe, knowing a bit of everything. And he was like Friday, not very bright, but eager to learn, and curious about everything we did."

"Occasionally, I would vent to him, complaining about real-life troubles, and he would talk about his things—maybe adventures, possibly what he wanted to do in the future, or something else."

"Even though we couldn’t understand what the other was saying, surprisingly, it didn’t hinder our communication. From him, I also learned quite a few interesting words, some of which I still don’t know the meanings of even today."

"But... everything came to an abrupt stop this morning."

"A solemn line of guards at the north gate of Changjiu Farm fired three shots into the sky. I saw a young man lift his body onto a truck, watched as they took him away to be cremated, and then saw his ashes carried to the lake, half scattered on the shore and half sprinkled into the water."

"Perhaps that was his last wish."

"At that moment, I suddenly felt that those NPCs were like living people, not just cold bits of code."

"I had never thought that one day I would become friends with a character in the game, nor had I thought that an unexpected departure could make me so sad."

"For a moment, I wished that it had been me who died that night."

"In memory of a fishing buddy who will never return."

"Even though I never learned his name, I will remember the stories about him, even if I’m the only one who does."

The post was lengthy.

The thread had grown very tall.

Chu Guang seldom saw Night Ten post on the forum; he just occasionally came across his replies in some threads.

But this time, he wrote a lot.

Including the follow-up replies, he recounted memories of the old man from a friend’s perspective, including some amusing incidents that happened while fishing.

Though they weren’t tales of grandeur, just simple, unadorned events, those words felt alive.

Makabazi: "Pat, pat, the fisherman..."

Tail: "Hmm."

Si Si: "Sorry, I couldn’t save your friend."

WC Real Mosquito: "It’s tough, if only NPCs could be resurrected."

Wild Wind: "Yes, but on the other hand, maybe it’s precisely because NPC lives happen only once that we feel the world inside the game is so incredibly real. What we create is not merely a meaningless string of numbers, but something endowed with a soul."

Night Ten: "Sigh, I know, but it still feels suffocating..."

Old White: "This game is always too real in unnecessary places."

Fang Chang: "It’s very much like life, unpredictable."

Teng Teng: "Sigh..."

Crow: "Hmm, it hurts. (>﹏<)"

Chu Guang read to the end, remaining silent for a long time. He typed a lot in the reply box but ended up pressing the backspace key and deleting it all.

He repeated this several times.

In the end, he left only one sentence.

Light: "His name was Ji Xiang."

...

The next day’s sunrise was as usual.

Although many people will never return, life must go on.

For those living in the Wasteland, death is the norm. Those who weren’t strong enough had already died two centuries earlier, and weak thoughts couldn’t have lasted until now.

The training of the guard squad continued as usual.

Thirty new faces joined, heading to Changjiu Farm for training.

Most of them came from the refugee camp and had volunteered to join.

Perhaps inspired by heroic deeds, or maybe just because of a piece of sizzling roast meat, they felt they had found their place in this wasteland.

They didn’t want to go back to a wandering life.

With no escape routes left, they decided to take up arms and use their own hands to defend the order and peace here.

At the entrance of the sanatorium.

A fat rat came out of the door, stretched lazily in the snow bathed in the morning sun, and said in human speech.

"MMP! I’ve finally come back to life!"

That’s the only advantage of Rat-man.

Others need three days to live; he only needs one day offline.

It just so happened that Gnome King Riches had just logged in and was stepping out of the sanitarium when he unexpectedly glanced at this guy and asked curiously,

"When did you die?"

Difficult for the Strong replied, "When else could I have died but that night! I didn’t even have a gun, but since the fight was right at my nose, I had to charge in regardless."

As he said this, Difficult for the Strong sighed.

"Man, thinking about it still pisses me off; damn it, I was just about to grab a gun when a Hyena caught me."

Gnome King Riches murmured, "Ah, this..."

Mutated hyena, huh?

Those must be among the most common monsters in the Wasteland, right?

Although slightly stronger than the Eaters, they are not much tougher. Due to their keen sense of smell and decent night vision, many Looters like to keep them; they are basically the kind of Variants even beginners can easily handle. If you can’t even beat a Hyena, he usually suggests deleting your account.

But...

I heard that Hyenas belong to the cat suborder?

Suppose bloodline suppression makes sense then.

The cat ears on her head gently moved as Crow looked at the chubby rat with a face full of sympathy.

"That’s really rough..."

It’s embarrassing to admit.

She had completely missed how he died.

On the other side of the square, Tail, who was also just out of the sanitarium and carrying a rifle, had a somewhat disheartened expression, quite different from her enthusiastic demeanor the day before.

Si Si, noticing her distraction, consoled her by saying,

"Relax, Tail has been working really hard. It’s unfortunate, but there was nothing we could do about it. Blame the damn Dog Plan for setting the difficulty too high."

"Well, I’m okay. I just feel that if I were a bit stronger... But speaking of which, aren’t you afraid of talking like this about the Game in case the developers target you?"

There’s a widespread rumor on the Forum: never joke about the developers in the Game or on the Forum, otherwise, you might find yourself in Africa or might even drop dead right on the spot.

It’s superstitious, but sometimes you just can’t help but believe it.

Si Si immediately bowed her head with hands clasped together, sincerely reflecting,

"Sorry, dear developers. I was wrong. Please forgive a careless girl for speaking thoughtlessly."

"Yikes!" Tail exclaimed, looking at her in surprise, "You backed down way too quickly, didn’t you?"

At that moment, they were passing by Outpost Base’s guard station.

Tail inadvertently glanced in that direction, then suddenly stopped walking.

Si Si also stopped and looked at her questioningly.

"What’s up?"

"Look over there."

Tail pointed in the direction of the guard station.

Following her pointing finger, Si Si turned her gaze only to notice that next to the notice board, there appeared to be a new wall.

Was it built yesterday?

A surprised expression appeared on Si Si’s face.

She hadn’t noticed it before.

On that wall were nails with some metal plates hanging from them.

"What’s hanging on the wall?"

"Um... there are twenty-five of them; they seem to have names written on them? Probably dog tags of some sort."

It turned out to be a memorial wall.

That design certainly matched the style of the Wasteland.

Was this an Easter egg from the production team?

Si Si suddenly noticed that Tail’s mood seemed to have improved a bit.

"Let’s go, Si," Tail said energetically, renewed in spirit, "We can’t waste any time if we want to advance to the first rank soon! The folks at Outpost Base are waiting for Tail to protect them!"

A smile also appeared on Si Si’s face.

Indeed.

The lively and energetic Tail was much more adorable.

Although she felt the folks probably didn’t expect much help from them.

"Ho!"

"For the sake of getting MVP next time, we need to step it up."

...

To the north of Elm District.

A deserted small town was situated on the edge of a forest, and even the howling northern winds couldn’t disperse the stench of blood lingering there.

This place once housed over a hundred survivors, living a life almost completely isolated from the outside world.

However, just a month ago, a group of Looters had arrived here and completely turned this secluded town into a living hell.

Some people could not endure the torture and were slaughtered and hung on the wall, while a few survived and became their slaves.

The Looters occupied their homeland, seized their food for the winter, and transformed their houses into fortresses, placing wooden barricades in the streets and windows, while also digging dugouts and building simple defensive works.

This was not typical behavior for Looters.

Even though they had slaves at their disposal, few knew how to dig trenches and dugouts, let alone where to dig them.

Building a defensive position is a sophisticated art, and it was a skill that the Looters, accustomed to small group raids and scattering, typically had no use for.

All this was thanks to their strategist, a man named Bernie.

As a former Thousands of leaders in the army, his understanding and application of light infantry tactics were nothing short of masterful.

After all, no ordinary men could have survived the relentless bombings at Grand Canyon.

It wasn’t just building positions.

Including the entire defensive setup and even the patrol routes of the patrol team were personally planned by this strategist.

It was for this reason when Yang Two, covered in snow, clumsily emerged from the woods, he was immediately spotted by Looters on dog patrol.

"Don’t shoot!"

"Don’t shoot! I’m one of our own!"

Seeing two Raider sentinels aiming at him, Yang Two immediately threw his gun onto the snowy ground and hastily raised his hands.

"One of our own?"

The Raider in front walked up with a gun, looking at him suspiciously up and down.

"Whose account are you under? Who’s your leader?"

Without even a moment to catch his breath, Yang Two said immediately.

"Gray Wolf! I am a scout under Gray Wolf... Please take me to see the Thousands of leaders, I have urgent information to report!"

The two Looters exchanged glances, felt he wasn’t lying, and thus took him to a sentry post at the edge of the town, where they searched him and reported the situation to the Thousands of leaders.

After hearing the news, the Thousands of leaders agreed to see him.

Soon, Yang Two was brought over.

Upon entering the room and seeing the man sitting in the chair, he immediately knelt on the ground, his forehead firmly pressed against the floor, too terrified to utter a word.

Leaning lazily in his chair, Lion Tooth looked down at him and said slowly.

"You lost?"

Yang Two swallowed and replied with his head bowed.

"Yes, sir."

Bernie, sitting beside Lion Tooth, looked at him and said.

"Tell me what happened the night before last."

Not daring to hide anything, Yang Two immediately began to speak in a low voice.

"... After making all the preparations, we launched a raid on Long Endurance Farm under Gray Wolf’s command. However, the resistance of the survivors was stronger than we anticipated. We once breached their Enclosing wall, but soon more and more reinforcements arrived, and we were ultimately outnumbered."

Yang Two detailed the events that had taken place.

Including the fierce battle with the guards at the north gate, the survivors’ rubber tracks, and the remarkably powerful "Rapid-fire Cannon."

"Quadruple Anti-aircraft Gun, and high-explosive bomb..." Bernie, who was standing next to Lion Tooth, listened intently to this scout’s account, pondered for a long time, and then said with a solemn expression, "These survivors are not easy to deal with."

Especially the fitment of rubber tracks on the trucks, a maneuver he had not anticipated. Even more puzzling was where these people were getting so much rubber from.

Lion Tooth remained impassive.

After all, he had never really expected Gray Wolf to successfully take down that Survivor Base.

Looking at the kneading scout, he continued.

"Where is Gray Wolf?"

With his head firmly pressed against the floor, Yang Two said with trepidation.

"I don’t know... Gray Wolf said he would stay behind to cover our retreat."

Covering the retreat?

This statement actually made Lion Tooth laugh.

That was quite the euphemism.

But no matter, since that guy was just a useless pawn anyway. Using the lives of some outsiders to probe the strength of the survivors in the North suburb of Qingquan City was not bad.

And it also prompted that cunning snake to strike first.

You could say it killed two birds with one stone... oh no, it killed three birds with one stone.

"Get out."

At those three words, Yang Two felt as if a huge mountain had been lifted from his shoulders, a wave of relief swept through him, unaware that his back was soaked with sweat.

"Thank you, sir!"

Not daring to stay a second longer, he hurriedly turned and left.

The door closed.

Lion Tooth turned to the strategist sitting beside him, spoke with an indifferent tone.

"I didn’t expect a total wipeout."

Bernie looked at him oddly.

"I thought you did it on purpose."

Lion Tooth gently shook his head.

"You misunderstood. I didn’t want him to die out there. I just saw an opportunity to teach that dishonest guy a lesson. I didn’t expect his head to be so tough that he’d lose over a hundred and fifty men, including himself,"

Bernie said.

"So that signal gun you gave him was?"

Lion Tooth said with a smile.

"Of course, it was for Black Snake to see."

Bernie was silent for a moment.

For some reason, he suddenly thought of General Kras, whose fate was unknown, and that grand but ultimately failed expedition.

Perhaps they too were abandoned pawns.

Who knows?

Those big shots never tell them everything, at most they just tell them what to do now.

Including now.

He still didn’t understand why his superior chose to join a group of natives. The people of Grand Canyon hadn’t been wiped out; they had a chance to go home.

"If Gray Wolf is captured, he will spill all our intelligence to those people, and that’s not a good thing,"

Lion Tooth said with a light smile.

"I know, but what does it matter? Our strength far exceeds theirs. Even if they see our hand, it’s still us who have a higher chance of winning. The only suspense left is how long they can hold under the attack of Black Snake. We need to choose a perfect moment to enter the battlefield, not too early and not too late... What do you think, my friend?"

Bernie thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"I don’t know, but it won’t be easy for Black Snake to win."

Lion Tooth didn’t seem to agree.

"Just because of that machine gun?"

Bernie continued.

"It’s not about a single piece of equipment, but those survivors in the ’North Suburb’ clearly possess industrial capabilities, and they have prepared for this war all winter. We, on the other hand, have very limited intelligence and know nothing about their logistics. If this war drags on, it probably won’t be good for us."

However, on the other hand, if they could take down this Survivor Settlement, the benefits they could reap would be immense.

A Survivor Base with industrial capabilities was much wealthier than those agricultural communities.

The few bases they had robbed before had nothing left in their warehouses but corn and green wheat. If they could take down the North suburb of Qingquan City, their odds of assaulting Giant Stone City would also significantly increase.

Lion Tooth stroked his chin.

"So what do you think we should do to end this war quickly?"

Bernie said,

"The best choice would be to act together with our allies in Suburb of Tianshui City."

"That’s impossible," Lion Tooth waved his hand, cutting him off, "I know that guy too well, he would never cooperate with us."

Bernie gave a wry smile.

Noticing the expression on his staff officer’s face, Lion Tooth smiled and consoled him.

"Don’t worry, this tough nut might be hard to crack, but that’s all it is. We have an absolute advantage in both equipment and manpower. Even our spit could drown them out."

"Once our allies make a move and pin down their main force, I’ll immediately take our brothers and appear unexpectedly on their flank, coordinating with our allies to annihilate them in one fell swoop!"

"Don’t you think this plan is perfect?"

And they could also divert some manpower to beat Black Snake to it and take their base first.

The moment that cunning greedy guy sees his own flag waving over Long Endurance Farm, his lungs would burst with rage.

Thinking this, a pleased expression couldn’t help but appear on Lion Tooth’s face.

Looking at this overly optimistic Thousands of leaders, Bernie inwardly sighed.

"You’re right."

"It might be a really good plan."

If only everything could go as smoothly as planned.

They were a full twenty kilometers away from Long Endurance Farm, and the twenty kilometers of snowy terrain were not easy to traverse, with forests and ruins along the way. Their troops would likely be stretched thin and consume a lot of energy.

Assuming Black Snake really fell for their ploy and decided to strike before the end of winter with a lightning-fast offensive, then those twenty kilometers of snowy land might become the biggest variable in the battle.

Could they really arrive like heavenly soldiers at the most critical moment of the battle, on the flanks of those people?

This wasn’t as simple as marking a map.

Just then, footsteps came from outside the door, and a Raider hurriedly entered.

The man’s face wore an excited expression.

After entering the room, he knelt on one knee, and said in an excited tone,

"My Lord!"

"That Snake has finally slithered out of its hole!"

-

(The next Chapter will be a bit late ... if it’s not out by midnight, it should be by one. Sorry, brothers, I will finish writing before I eat lunch.)