This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 276: Did You Move Out All Your Family’s Wealth?

Chapter 276: Chapter 276: Did You Move Out All Your Family’s Wealth?

"F*ck, what do you mean by I ’came back alive’? Is it that strange for me to come back alive?"

Is this something a person would say?

Taking off the gas mask that hung on his face, Debt Giant Eye, who emerged from behind Edge Old Brother, playfully slapped Night Ten on the shoulder with a smirk.

"Hey, it wasn’t easy at all. Several times I thought I was a goner, but somehow I miraculously survived."

Standing to one side, the construction site kid and Brick nodded in agreement.

"It was indeed no easy feat."

Others were playing the game, but their squad was playing with their lives.

They set out as a team of ten, but only half made it back.

In contrast, look at the Mole Squad next to them: they also set out with ten, but came back missing only two, a casualty rate that’s like the difference between heaven and earth, making it hard not to comment.

But, complaints aside, people didn’t really take it to heart.

It’s just a game.

Courting death is the norm.

If you’re not a hardcore gamer, there’s no need to insist on surviving until the end.

Besides, the death penalty isn’t as heavy as it was in the beginning. It’s a bit tough being banned from the forum for three days, but the server has been running like this for so long that everyone is used to the rules.

What you really lose is just the experience from a single battle, and not a penny less of the money and Contribution Points from the mission rewards.

The gear you drop? Your teammates will conscientiously collect it for you. At most, you’ll lose some ammo and grenades.

"Speaking of which, how come you guys are wearing this outfit now?" Battlefield Atmosphere Group said enviously, eyeing the grey coat on Edge Old Brother.

Edge Old Brother remained silent and turned to look at Big Eyes.

With a grin, he said, "It was my idea. The previous gear was too ugly and lacked any distinguishable features, looking more like Looter than the Looters themselves, always getting mistaken by allies. So I had this sudden spark of inspiration and simply went for the same ’skin’ as the Moles. Edge was initially against it, but he ended up finding it ’truly fragrant’."

Edge Rowing retorted stubbornly, "Get lost! You guys forced me into it."

The construction site kid with Brick chimed in with a laugh.

"You know, those Looters have been psychologically scarred by us. They go weak as soon as they see our outfit. Later, we recommended it to the newcomers who came to reinforce us, and now all the good brothers in Red River Town are dressed in this gear!"

Even during the most turbulent waves, Shelter No. 404 never stopped its "support" for its neighbors.

According to the data mentioned by Mole Old Brother in the battle reports, the "garrison" at Red River Town has now increased to 50 people.

All of them were players, except for 10 NPC guards who were stationed there long-term, and they kept regularly replenishing the troops to maintain this number.

Obviously, this fiercely fighting "Death Legion" had completely made a name for itself around Red River Town.

The engineers’ shovels and the gleaming bayonets under the barrels hadn’t just become the Looters’ eternal nightmare, but also the icon of war gods in the eyes of mercenaries and Slave Owners!

Especially that "grey coat," which had a more intimidating presence than even the dark blue coats worn by the Army Centurions!

Local Slave Owners and Business Associations couldn’t wait for them to stay in Red River Town forever, even offering Shelter No. 404 a station with fifty acres of land.

Though nothing could grow on that soil, having a station meant putting down roots.

Manager had deployed 40 Cultivation Chambers there, seemingly planning to transform the place into a military outpost.

Currently, any player soldier with a Level of LV8 and Firearms proficiency of Level 3 could apply to experience the New Map and new missions.

However, the number of spots was limited, so even after signing up, there was a queue.

Watching the Old Soldier’s envious expression, the on-the-run Mole from the canyon said with an animated smile,

"How about that, not bad for my design taste, huh?"

Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "Damn it! We let this guy get all decked out!"

Before, I also suggested that everyone should get a set of "team uniforms," but that old miser from Spring City was too stingy.

Old Black even liked his post, but that old miser insisted, "Skins that don’t add to attack are garbage" and "anyway, when you wear power armor with armor plates, you can’t see anything."

And that wasn’t the end of it. He even called me a chuunibyo.

What does being a chuunibyo have to do with anything?

It’s obviously just being stingy!

Unlike Old Soldier, Night Ten wasn’t concerned about what a few people were wearing; he was curiously looking at the trucks behind them.

No need to ask.

They must be loaded with war spoils hauled back from Red River Town.

By a conservative estimate, based on three times overload, those trucks were piled with at least fifty to sixty tons of various ores.

Besides, nearly a hundred slaves followed them back. The nearby NPC merchants all showed envious looks.

One slave could be exchanged for five assault rifles.

They really hit the jackpot!

Night Ten said with envy.

"Is the battle at Red River Town over?"

Mole Old Brother shook his head as he replied.

"Over? It’s still a long way to go!"

"The Slave Owners there are too weak in combat power. There’s a good number of mercenaries they’ve hired, with decent individual fighting strength, but their coordination in battle is like a mob, with no synergy."

"Relying on imported shells and weapons, the Allied forces of Red River Town initially had some success, winning several local battles. But their logistics were terrible. Often the ammunition didn’t match up, and their firepower was inconsistent. Plus, with low organization, they couldn’t hold onto the positions they captured. Often, we’d take a position by day only to lose it back by night."

"Moreover, with Chewing Bone Tribe’s numerical superiority and reinforcements continuously arriving from the central provinces, along with numerous Looters rushing over from the eastern neighboring province after hearing rumors of them planning to set up a Looter kingdom, both sides kept fighting over a few mountain heads, repeatedly contesting for those positions along a ten-plus kilometers depth of frontlines."

Weapons like mortars and anti-tank rifles were not unique to Shelter No. 404. Some large and medium Survivor Settlements with industrial production capabilities could also produce them, only differing in cost and performance.

Red River Town didn’t only import ammunition from Shelter No. 404. Not to mention the variety of weapons brought by the mercenaries, they even had three different calibers of medium mortars: 80mm, 85mm, and 88mm, in addition to two 105mm cast iron mortars.

Shoddy logistics, uncoordinated command — it’s a wonder they’ve held out this long against the Looters, those rich local warlords.

Night Ten asked curiously.

"So why did you all come back?"

Mole Old Brother rolled his eyes.

"We came back to participate in the event, man. Spending all day reading the forum discussions about the Tide, I felt like we weren’t even playing the same game!"

When the New Map first opened and he lucked out getting "experience access," he was quite excited. After all, being the first to try it out isn’t an opportunity everyone gets.

Though Red River Town was farther compared to Giant Stone City, as long as he could bring back firsthand information to the players, it was no big deal!

Now, a month had passed, the New Map wasn’t that new anymore, and players were already tired of his battle reports, with even Backseat Drivers moving on to discuss the Tide.

A lengthy guide with only triple-digit likes instantly made him feel like an "abandoned player of the version."

He heard that this "Final Battle Plan" was the last event before closing the A-round testing, and he wouldn’t miss it for the world!

Elena also chimed in.

"We’ve been in the New Map long enough; it’s time for others to go in and grind."

Gnome King Riches said with a grin.

"Old Na really holds a grudge against those Variants there. Not one arthropod that isn’t venomous."

Elena immediately protested.

"Get lost! Do I look like that kind of person?"

Mole Old Brother ignored the two of them and turned to Night Ten, asking, "But what about you, why weren’t you with Old Bai Fangzhang and the others today?"

Night Ten smiled and said,

"Well, there’s big work to do early tomorrow morning, so we split up this afternoon. Old Bai and the others went to Goblin Technology to buy some new devices they said were available. I planned to go, too, but I heard that there was orange gear here at the trade station, so I rushed over to snag a deal... Unfortunately, I missed out, which really sucks!"

The "orange gear" naturally referred to the "Miner Type I" exoskeleton.

This piece of equipment was imported from Ideal City; its battery used "Metallic Hydrogen," which was a tier higher than "Solid Hydrogen."

Ever since it got sold out in a flash last time, Shelter No. 404’s official shop hadn’t restocked, and only the commercial teams coming from the east would bring some occasionally; even in Giant Stone City next door, it was hard to come by.

Yesterday, a group of wild peddlers turned up at the trade station with a set, which a Strength Type player happened upon and decisively bought without hesitation. He flaunted it on the forum that very night, causing a big wave of players to come here early in the morning to check it out.

The exoskeleton sold by "wild NPC" merchants was a bit pricey but came without Contribution Points and level restrictions, also allowing secondary trades; it was indeed very tempting.

In short, getting one was a definite win!

However, what intrigued Mole Old Brother wasn’t the exoskeleton but the first half of Night Ten’s statement.

"Brother Mosquito has some new devices?"

"Yeah, Brother Mosquito was boasting in the group chat yesterday," Night Ten said with a chuckle, "I have to say, that guy is getting more impressive. He managed to produce RPGs after recoilless guns!"

The moment these words were said, it wasn’t just Mole Old Brother and the Edge Shoveling group who were surprised; even the Battlefield Atmosphere Group standing nearby looked at him in disbelief.

"RPG?"

"???"

"Holy shit?!"

That truly was getting more impressive!

...

In fact, at this very moment, it wasn’t just Old Bai and his team who were making purchases at Goblin Technology; Spring Water, deemed the stingiest by Old Soldier, was also here.

After reflecting on the reasons for their failure in the battle at Street No. 65, Spring Water had some serious thinking to do.

Putting aside plot-related causes, the fact that Crawlers flanked them during the fourth wave of Tide’s offense was one thing, but more importantly, they were defeated due to a lack of anti-armor capabilities.

Before the ambush battle, although he had considered the possibility of the developers designing some "over-the-top armored" units as bosses, he instructed the players wielding Cavalry Guns and Heavy Cavalry Guns not to just bring high-explosive rounds but also a couple of magazines of armor-piercing ammo.

But he never imagined the developers could be such bastards.

37mm armor-piercing rounds couldn’t even penetrate the armor of the Decaying Knights!

If it wasn’t for the high-armor tank units like the Decaying Knights breaking through their front lines, squads B and C might have held out for a bit longer.

Since power armor could get taken over by slime variants and turned into "friendlies," he had reason to believe they would face even more ridiculous things in the future.

But what he didn’t expect was that he initially came to buy a recoilless gun, only to find out that Mosquito had even made an RPG-7, a divine tool for street battles!

At the target range outside the industrial area.

Staring at the 400mm steel plate punctured by the armor-piercing bullet, Spring Water Commander’s eyes widened considerably, and it took him a while to squeeze out an unrelated sentence.

"... in reality, do you really sell furniture?"

Hearing this, Mosquito beside him chuckled and said,

"Family craft, handcrafted with pride. So, boss, thinking of getting a set? PM me on the forum."

Spring Water Commander: "... Forget it."

I have a feeling that giving this guy my address would be quite dangerous.

I wouldn’t want to inadvertently place an order and end up getting shipped a pair of Silver Handcuffs.

Now, that would be a real mess.

Standing to one side, Old White put down the launch tube, smoking with white vapor, his face wearing an expression of both surprise and admiration.

"This firepower’s got something!"

But this propellant... smells a bit like Double Stone-2, huh?

It’s a bit different from the ethylene glycol of an RPG-7.

The piezoelectric fuse must be a modern upgrade, as the initial velocity is quite a bit faster than that homemade "recoilless gun" from before. The power of the matching armor-piercing bullet is inherited as is; the conical tip of the bullet is embedded with a needle-like trigger, just a poke, and it boasts a penetration depth of up to 400mm!

The power is already rather impressive!

However, thinking of this, Old White suddenly came to a realization.

Where the hell is this an RPG imitation?!

It’s clearly modeled after our own Type 69 40mm rocket launcher!

Unaware of Old White’s odd look, WC the genuine Mosquito animatedly continued talking.

"Besides the 85mm armor-piercing bullets, we also offer area-damage 85mm high-explosive fragmentation grenades! Only 200 silver coins each, buy five get one launch tube free! Very handy indeed!"

The sale price of 200 silver coins is quite a bit more expensive than Iron Fist.

But for Old White and the rest, it wasn’t something they couldn’t afford.

Before the start of each battle, Shelter No. 404 would allocate budgets to the teams based on their combat power, funds for purchasing ammunition.

Ammo within the budget didn’t require dipping into their own pockets. Some of the longer battles would also receive supplies with reinforcements from behind, and that also didn’t cost any money.

The usage of the ammunition budget only affected the battle score, and this was an old tradition present for several versions already.

"... You’re getting more and more intense."

Upon hearing Old White’s profoundly complimentary remark, WC the genuine Mosquito chuckled with a heh, heh.

"Kidding me? When have the weapons I designed ever let anyone down?"

"I’ll just ask one thing, satisfied or not?"

As soon as he said that, the look in everyone’s eyes instantly became somewhat complicated.

To say his gear was useless was definitely speaking against their conscience.

But to say it was very useful, sometimes it just disappoints to no end.

Old White subtly shifted his gaze away.

"Half-satisfied, I guess."

Wild Wind nodded in agreement.

"+1, half-satisfied."

Fang Chang, "I’ll have to think about the other half, mostly because I’m afraid of making you proud."

Spring Water Commander, "Couldn’t agree more."

WC the genuine Mosquito cursed under his breath, "Damn! I ask you one word, and you really have quite the chatter!"

Old White laughed and patted Mosquito on the shoulder.

"Good buddy, the main reason is that your gear hasn’t been battle-tested yet, so I can’t go around saying too much! How about this, you give me a 50% discount, and I’ll purchase 10 armor-piercing and 10 fragmentation rounds from you in one go, help make a name for it!"

WC the genuine Mosquito rolled his eyes.

"Fifty percent?! You might as well ask me to give it to you for free!"

Fang Chang’s eyes lit up.

"There’s such a good deal?"

WC the genuine Mosquito, "Scram! At most I can do a 10% discount, can’t go any cheaper! Any cheaper and I’d be losing money!"

Upon hearing that remark, at least four pairs of eyes rolled.

"I don’t believe you for a second!"

Centurion would never believe that guy only made a profit of 20 silver coins on a rocket launcher valued at 200 silver coins.

At the very least, the profit margin had to be 50%!

With the start of the Alpha 1.0 version, silver coins really did inflate quite a bit, but since the trade route to Red River Town had been established, the prices of various metallic and non-metallic raw materials hadn’t risen much. Along with the completion of the industrial zone’s facilities and increased production capacity, industrial goods hadn’t really soared in price.

In the end, after a bit of haggling, the two sides reached a consensus at the price of 180 silver coins per armor-piercing round and 130 silver coins per high-explosive grenade.

The Bull and Horse Squad purchased a total of 25 rocket launcher rounds, and the Spring Water Squad also bought 15, cleaning out Mosquito’s inventory and maxing out their firepower!

After settling on the price, the group returned to the Goblin Technology factory, where the newly produced ammunition was stockpiled in the warehouse.

As he walked into the factory, Spring took notice of a pile of wood near the entrance and couldn’t help but ask curiously,

"What’s that thing?"

Seeing someone take interest in his masterwork, Mosquito chuckled and said,

"The W-1 ’Fly Mosquito’ Glider! Featuring a wooden body and a pioneering electric structure, the most primitive wood and the most advanced solid hydrogen technology blend perfectly. A proud creation of mine and my apprentices, it’s priced at only 3,000 silver coins! What do you think? Isn’t it a bargain? Wouldn’t you like to buy one?"

Not far away, Discourage, who was fiddling with an engine with a screwdriver, happened to hear this and couldn’t help but retort,

"Do you have no shame? I designed that body, Death claimed responsibility for the engine, Soul Chaser hand-carved the blades, and Kill God made the bomb dropper. What the hell did you do?"

If it weren’t for Qian Duo’s contribution,

He would have gone solo long ago!

Unmoved, Mosquito unabashedly continued to grin,

"I took the best from each of you and integrated it. That’s called resource integration."

Discourage: "@#￥%!"

Curiously, Fang Chang approached the pile of wood to take a closer look.

On closer inspection, he did indeed see two wings and what appeared to be a flat structure that was likely the undercarriage.

But using wood for the structure and creating such a scattered and fragmented work... Wouldn’t it fall apart in midair?

"...The W-1 isn’t bad, but why not call it WC-1?"

Mosquito blushed slightly and admitted,

"Actually, I did originally plan to call it that, but alas, my apprentices lack artistic sense. They said sitting on it would make them want to take a dump, so I dropped the C."

Old White: "Pfft..."

Wild Wind: "I can’t even look at this plane straight anymore."

The expression on Spring Water Commander’s face was a bit peculiar.

"Am I the only one curious if this thing can actually fly?"

A wooden body paired with a solid hydrogen battery.

He had never seen such an odd combination before.

Wild Wind touched her nose.

"Let’s analyze it rationally. The energy density of hydrogen is close to three times that of gasoline. Even though a hydrogen gas tank definitely won’t do, solid hydrogen... in theory, should be workable, but that’s under ideal conditions."

"It’s a game! Let your imagination run wild; don’t be so rigid!"

Patting Wild Wind on the shoulder, Mosquito said with a confident smile, "Trust me, my good friend! I guarantee it can absolutely fly! If it doesn’t, no charge!"

Wild Wind gave him a glancing look.

"Don’t try to persuade me; I’m not flying it."

Old White focused on the motor for a while and frowned.

"But where’s the runway? Even if it can fly... it needs a runway for takeoff, right?"

Mosquito smiled slightly,

"Such a revolutionary flying machine naturally doesn’t use a traditional runway."

Spring had a vague idea of what was coming, and he swallowed hard.

"Don’t tell me it’s..."

"Tall buildings! There are kilometer-tall buildings everywhere here!"

Mosquito strode over to the heap of wooden parts, fished out an aluminum control stick that hadn’t been fitted yet.

The fervor sparkling in his eyes made everyone around take a step back unconsciously.

Oblivious to the expressions on everyone’s faces, Mosquito’s voice grew more and more excited.

"According to my calculations, less than a kilometer is enough, eight hundred meters will do!"

"Shut off the engine and dive towards the ground, and when you’re two hundred meters above, pull up the control stick and the switch, and you’ll become a bolt of lightning!"

Fang Chang’s Adam’s apple moved.

"...And if it doesn’t pull up?"

Mosquito repeated his mantra,

"You’ll become a bolt of lightning!"

Old White: "?"

Wild Wind: "??"

Fang Chang: "???"

Spring Water Commander: "...????"

Just asking for clarification.

Is this really equipment a sane person would choose?!

...

At dusk.

Silence enfolded the skies above Qingquan City as the "corpse movers" in gas masks steadily retreated from the battlefield, carrying stretchers piled with bodies.

Meanwhile, just a short distance away on the frontlines, a procession of figures holding rifles, eager for action, continued to arrive from the rear.

Among them were the seasoned warriors of the Death Legion clad in gray coats, the green-jacketed Mountain Corps recalled from Far Creek Town, and a motley crew with distinctive personal styles and an array of gear... but no one doubted their combat prowess.

No matter what gear they used, they were undoubtedly the crème de la crème.

Through continuous battles and endless revivals, they had developed and passed on their own most effective combat tactics—or rather, strategies—to the newcomers they guided.

Each of them represented a banner!

"Are you putting everything you’ve got into this?" Vanus, standing by the window of a tall building, looked down at the battlefield below in surprise.

The solemn atmosphere of the gun banners was so potent that even the young soldiers of the army would probably only be comparable if they stood in front of them!

Beside him stood Chu Guang, clad in power armor, who simply said,

"This is just the beginning."

Their true battlefield was during the day.

Following the plan he had drawn up himself.

The players would rotate at the defensive line until dawn, and just as the last offensive of the Tide started to wane before the break of dawn, they would launch an all-out counterattack!

"No chance for those bugs to catch their breath!"

Since yesterday, the industrial district had temporarily suspended all export orders, focusing all production capacity on the front lines.

Crates of ammunition were delivered to the front-line ammunition depots, along with two sets of 100KW wood-fired generators and 200 newly produced Sleep Cabins deployed beneath the temporary command center for player saves and offline rest.

Equipment was in short supply.

The rest time allocated to each player’s clone was only 4 hours, but this was enough to alleviate their fatigue.

Players signed up for the event had taken leave in advance in the real world.

It didn’t matter if some couldn’t participate, as "Wasteland OL" was an MMORPG that emphasized leisure, without the need to grind or spend excessively; it never forced players to join server events.

At most, it would offer irresistible rewards during the events.

Watching the sunset gradually disappear in the streets, Chu Guang felt his blood boiling with excitement.

This would be the largest battle in "Wasteland OL" since its launch, with the highest number of participants, the most expansive scale, and the peak of both the variety and quantity of deployed equipment!

Two Hummingbird drones had already been deployed at the edge of the battlefield, their cameras locked onto the battlefield, shrouded in the spore clouds.

"Come on."

Chu Guang clenched his fist gently and exhaled a breath of stale air.

"Let’s see what you’ve really got!"

...

The shadows of the high rises gradually absorbed into the war-torn alleys.

The dense gray-green fog faintly glowed with a blood-red hue, emitting an unsettling, teeth-grinding screech.

Yet, no one’s legs were faltering.

After enduring days of battle, even the 400 newbies who had just joined the game in Alpha 1.1 had become competent soldiers.

For them, victory was the only creed.

Death was inconsequential!

Amidst the chirpy noise tinged with excitement, the players at the front line expertly disengaged the safeties on their rifles and took cover behind concrete rubble fortifications.

"All team members in position! Final five minutes!"

"...Repeat, newbies take note, let the Gunman fire first, keep your rifles steady, and only shoot when the Tide gets within fifty meters!"

"Remember! You’re no longer rookies; don’t use your little toys to pick the Tyrant’s teeth! Trust your teammates and their Cavalry Guns! Use the ammunition where it counts!"

"Here they come—prepare for battle!"

A shrill howl sounded through the fog.

Running Eaters surged out of the darkness like a tide, traversing the devastated battlefield, charging towards the players’ positions.

At the same time, three flares soared into the sky, clearing away the gloom above the streets.

The Machine Guns deployed inside the buildings roared first, bullets whizzing through the gray-green fog, forming a dense curtain of iron rain.

Following closely were the water-cooled Maxim guns at the very front line, spewing flames and spraying bullets into the Different Species Clusters approaching like a tsunami.

Players fired proficiently, each squad coordinating in silence, clearing the Variants in their respective defense zones.

The first wave of the assault was merely Cannon Fodder.

They were well acquainted with the Variants’ tactics.

First, send in swarms of Eaters to deplete their ammunition, then send in high-health and high-mobility units to attempt to break through the line.

Up above the temporary command center, on the rooftop of the skyscraper.

Brother Mosquito and his four apprentices were braving the howling wind, assembling the W-1 "Fly Mosquito" Glider on the rooftop.

After an hour of debate, he had finally convinced his four apprentices to add an X behind the W-1.

The aircraft was fitted with two 100kg aerial bombs, with firepower comparable to the Big Yings’ 250-pound bombs, and the weight was roughly the same.

In addition, there were two 7mm small-caliber machine guns mounted inside the cabin.

Although Discourage initially suggested going for the 20mm cannons, after some serious consideration, Mosquito rejected the idea.

The 20mm cannons and their ammunition were too heavy!

With that load, it would be better to carry a couple more aerial bombs!

Besides, those were products from a "friendly competitor."

This was the moment for Goblin Technology to flex its muscles; how could they let the competitor steal the show?

"Hurry up!" Mosquito, holding a pair of binoculars, looked down at the barely visible battlefield and urged his apprentices loudly.

Discourage couldn’t help but look up and complain.

"Damn it! Why don’t you give us a hand?!"

Mosquito glared at him.

"I’m the pilot! I said I’d take care of flying; what else do you want me to do? Want to switch?!"

Discourage shuddered and fell silent, cursing under his breath.

It wasn’t that he feared heights; he just wasn’t confident.

Although he was part of the design, the difference between fixed-wing and quadcopter was too significant; he had no confidence about this thing flying at all.

What if the propeller snapped or the wings came apart?

That would be an offering to the heavens!

Mosquito didn’t mind embarrassment, but he was still a tad concerned about maintaining his dignity.

"I feel something’s not quite right," Mosquito, standing beside the building, suddenly spoke.

"What? What’s wrong?" Squinting against the gusting wind, Soul Chaser looked up.

Gripping the binoculars firmly, Mosquito muttered with a frown.

"These gunshots are lasting way too long!"

Had the first wave of attack not ended yet?

It should have been over by now!

He had a sinister premonition.

With Dog plan’s character, he would never play by the rules.

As an old player who joined the server from the early versions, Mosquito had long experienced Ah Guang’s unpredictable "narrative style."

Just as he felt something was amiss, a conspicuous crimson gleamed through the gray-green fog.

The mortar positions waiting for the next wave of assault suddenly opened fire, and numerous shells whistled into the sky, exploding in a burst of light around that crimson glow.

The gunfire below the building grew more intense, and the fog faintly transmitted cries of pain...

Watching the spore clouds scattered by the shockwave of the explosions and seeing the shape of a monster gradually emerge in the fog, Mosquito, gripping the binoculars, couldn’t help but blurt out a beautiful phrase from his hometown.

"What the fuck?!"

"What the hell is that thing?!"