This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 323: The Rainbow That Pierces Through the Clouds

Chapter 323: Chapter 323: The Rainbow That Pierces Through the Clouds

The rainstorm poured heavily.

Five kilometers south of the Pine Valley, tanks passed through the gates one by one and headed towards the frontline in the south, escorted by Looter infantry.

According to the battle plan formulated by Dylon, they would take advantage of the rainy day to strike at the New Alliance’s defense line.

When that time came, the New Alliance’s planes would surely launch desperate attacks on their armored groups, yet in the disturbance of the raging storm, such aircraft were barely worth mentioning.

The Quadruple Anti-aircraft Gun was already aimed at the sky, ready for anything from 7mm to 12mm.

Opening the hatch, Bagro poked half of his body out from the tank’s turret while the gunner sitting at his feet immediately complained.

"Hey, you’re letting the rain in!"

"It’s just a bit of water..."

Ignoring the guy, Bagro clenched a telescope and glanced at the southern sky, furrowing his brow with worry.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

It was too bright in the distance.

Although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what felt off, it just felt different from usual rainfall.

"What could possibly be wrong?" the driver laughed, "We just need to roll over their trenches, and they’ll scatter like sewer roaches."

"If only it were that simple," Bagro said half-jokingly with a forced laugh and climbed back into the tank.

On second thought, maybe it was true.

No matter what tricks the opponent played, in front of the tracks of a tank, any conspiracy was a joke.

Bagro grabbed the intercom hanging inside the turret and shouted to the other tanks in the formation.

"Speed up!"

"We need to cover our infantry and take their high ground before the storm ends!"

Ya Clan’s tanks were usually driven by an Army tank driver, with Looter-trained drivers, gunners, and loaders as crew.

Of course, not every tank was like this.

Twenty-seven tanks were divided into five echelons, advancing in an arrowhead formation.

Between each arrowhead, other than the equipped Quadruple Anti-aircraft trucks, there followed an over-strength hundred team.

Bagro led a squad of seven tanks, serving as the attacking vanguard. Right now, a hundred team followed them, commanded by a Looter named Vabu, the Centurion.

This Awakener, who possessed Barbarian lineage, had once been a Bounty Hunter active in what was called "Bugra Free State," the city of sin. Fueled by his desire for blood and loot, he had voluntarily joined the Chewing Bone Tribe.

And so did most of his subordinates.

They were fiercer and more brutal than the typical Looters. Some of them had been gladiators in arenas, some had been private soldiers of Slave Owners, and even guards for Commercial Teams. While their reasons for joining the Ya Clan varied, their inherent craving was the same.

Being captured by them wouldn’t be much better than falling into the hands of other Looters. In fact, many of the torturous ways the tribe’s people used on their captives were learned from these outsiders.

Singing a war chant, Vabu and his troops advanced in the rain.

However, at that moment, a loud ’Duang’ sounded beside them, splashing mud several meters high and startling the advancing crowd, who instinctively dove to the side.

The singing abruptly ceased.

Yet, the expected explosion did not occur.

Furious, Vabu got up from the ground, wiped the mud off his face, and strode toward the mud pit created by some object, casually grabbing a person by the arm.

"What just happened?!"

The grabbed Looter said nervously.

"Something fell from the sky."

"Nonsense, I’m not blind, I’m asking what that thing was that fell!" Vabu shoved the man hard, causing him to stagger, then pointed his thick finger at the mud pit, "Go take a look for yourself."

What good could come from something that fell from the sky?

He dared not get too close for a look.

Just in case it exploded the moment he approached, that would indeed be terrible luck.

"Yes, yes!"

Although the Looter was scared, he dared not resist and jogged over to the mud pit. There, he saw a bent steel pipe—or something similar—stuck in the mud.

Out of curiosity, he squatted down and touched it, but quickly withdrew his hand as if he had been shocked.

"Hisss—"

So cold!

It nearly froze off a layer of skin from his fingers!

Vabu bellowed in his gruff voice.

"What is that thing?"

"I don’t know, just a tin can, about this big, empty inside..." the Looter stood up to reply, gesturing the approximate size with his hands.

Although Vabu did not understand very clearly, he was somewhat relieved.

He had thought it might be a bomb dropped by a New Alliance aircraft, but now it seemed that wasn’t the case.

And come to think of it, where would an aircraft come from in the sky?

Dropping bombs from the clouds?

What a stroke of luck it would be to actually hit someone!

Vabu yelled out, mustering the scattered troops to regroup.

"Perhaps it’s a dud rocket, whatever it is, let’s not mind it for now. Stick a tree branch next to it to warn those behind to keep clear, and let’s continue moving onward! Towards victory!"

...

Above the clouds.

An H-1 "Dragonfly" General Aircraft was soaring, towing a trail of what seemed like fairy mist, floating above the milky clouds.

On closer inspection, a layer of white frost had formed on the aircraft’s tail.

Standing at the open rear cargo door, dressed in thick cotton clothing and tethered with a rope, Brother Ciso was holding onto an aluminum alloy ammunition rack fixed on the cabin’s rail.

This device was originally meant for holding 37mm shells, but at this moment, it was stuffed with steel cylinders, each one meter long.

These high-pressure steel cylinders were secured with iron wire, with their openings released, continuously pouring out a white solid-liquid mixture into the cabin exterior.

In layman’s terms, this substance was dry ice!

And that was the source of the white mist!

In fact, the production of dry ice is quite simple: by pressurizing a container to liquefy the carbon dioxide or air inside, then cooling it followed by depressurizing, it rapidly absorbs a vast amount of heat causing the carbon dioxide inside a second container to rapidly condense into snow-like solid.

The entire process involves no chemical reactions, purely a physical one. Generally, those capable of manufacturing high-pressure steel cylinders can produce dry ice.

Not certain of the specific requirements for the amount of dry ice needed for artificial precipitation—whether ten kilograms or a hundred—they decided to carry three times the upper recommended limit—that is, three hundred kilograms—and flew several rounds over the entire airspace.

"Done..., success depends on human effort but is determined by the heavens."

As the last bit of dry ice was poured out, Brother Ciso forcefully turned the winch, closed the hatch, took a deep breath, removed his gloves, and stuffed them into his pocket.

Brother Levin stepped forward to check the ammunition rack, his eyebrows suddenly knit together.

"What’s missing one?"

Brother Ciso, who was resting, looked up.

"Missing one what?"

"Damn! What else could it be, a high-pressure gas cylinder!"

Brother Ciso was stunned for a moment.

"Huh?"

"Huh your head!" Brother Levin couldn’t help but snap, "Didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on it so it wouldn’t fall off? How could it still have fallen off?"

Brother Ciso rolled his eyes: "How could I see it, the fog was so thick just now! Besides, wasn’t it you who tied the cylinder?"

Brother Levin said with a worried face.

"What do we do if the enemy picks it up?"

Brother Ciso comforted him.

"Forget about it! The dry ice inside is all gone anyway. Even if they pick it up, they might not realize what it’s used for."

That seemed to make sense.

Brother Levin was somewhat relieved.

At that moment, the non-professional reverse barman in the cockpit called out.

"What are you guys arguing about? Is the dry ice finished? Do we need to run another lap?"

Back in his seat, Brother Levin fastened his seatbelt and shouted.

"It’s done, let’s head back."

"Okay."

The aircraft tilted to one side.

The H-1 Dragonfly turned and began to head back.

For this "Heavy Storm Plan," the New Alliance’s Combat Command had developed two strategies: one was to shoot silver iodide with rockets, and the other was to spray dry ice from planes.

If neither worked—

Then neither worked.

In this world, there’s nothing that must happen, and nothing that can’t happen.

Maybe the swath of dark clouds would show no sign, maybe the heavy rain would pour down lonely, or maybe the enemy wasn’t waiting for a change in the weather at all... These possibilities could not be discounted.

Every plan was only built on speculation with limited intelligence.

Chu Guang didn’t have a hundred percent certainty that, upon seeing this storm, the enemy would choose to go "All in" with all their assets.

However, from the images captured by the low-flying drones, Chu Guang knew he had bet correctly.

Twenty-seven Conqueror No. 10 tanks poured out of the bomb shelters, followed by fifty modified anti-aircraft trucks.

The 100mm artillery deployed in the rear began bombarding the New Alliance’s positions, unleashing hundreds of shells in just a few minutes.

It seemed like a reprisal for the earlier rocket fire, but in reality, it was covering the advance of the main force.

The Ya Clan had bet everything they had.

And the New Alliance had already made preparations.

Players hunkered down at the front line were rubbing their hands together, ready for the fight!

...

Inside the anti-cannon hole.

Listening to the deafening explosions outside, Debt Giant Eye, sitting against the wall, couldn’t help but exclaim.

"Gosh... when did these bandits get so rich?"

Previously, the Ya Clan’s artillery strikes were sporadic, firing a few rounds and then stopping.

Not like this time, firing round after round, continuing for ten minutes without showing any signs of stopping.

Due to the rain, some water had seeped into the anti-cannon hole, but fortunately, the players had previously considered the weather’s impact and had dug drainage ditches in the trenches and holes, although the torrential rain was a bit severe, it didn’t affect too much.

Lying next to the observation port in the anti-cannon hole, Edge Shoveling, supporting himself on the edge of the scope, suddenly spoke excitedly.

"Enemy tanks appearing on the opposite hill! A total of seven!"

Here they come!

Those Looters really couldn’t sit still!

"Seven? Wasn’t it twenty-seven?" Brick, holding his rifle, counted on his fingers.

Debt Giant Eye rolled his eyes.

"Are you dumb? Twenty-seven is the total number of tanks. The enemy isn’t stupid, why would they squeeze all their tanks together and send them over here? Not to mention the traffic jam that would cause, the infantry couldn’t even keep up."

Brick nodded in realization.

"That makes sense!"

Debt Giant Eye had already put on the headset connected to the neural connection device, eager to begin.

"Should we deploy the drones?"

Edge Shoveling spoke in a deep voice.

"No rush! Wait until all their tanks enter the range, then attack! We’ll try to annihilate them in one go, not giving them a chance to retreat!"

Debt Giant Eye exclaimed excitedly: "Got it!"

Stationed on the high ground on the south side of Pine Valley was the Death Legion.

After nearly a month of continuous combat, the Death Legion’s level had risen to LV21, and their maximum number of personnel had increased to 300.

Raising the legion’s level was much easier than increasing personal sequence levels, especially now during wartime, which was a good time to accumulate merits.

As the first line of defense in the northern part of Blue Stone County, the high ground on the south side of Pine Valley was the best place to intercept the enemy armored forces.

The command from headquarters was to destroy the enemy tanks at all costs, preventing the Ya Clan’s Looters from charging up the highland.

Edge Shoveling’s plan was even more aggressive.

He not only wanted to stop those iron coffins charging wildly here—he also wanted to ensure that the Looters charging with the tanks would stay here too!

Opening the VM, Edge Shoveling placed the coordinates for support fire on the map and pressed the communication button to shout loudly.

"...This is the Death Legion calling for artillery support, coordinates in the central area of Pine Valley, cover fire five rounds!"

A calm voice came through the communication channel.

"Command center received, bombardment instructions have been relayed."

Communication ended.

The sounds of artillery at the position gradually ceased.

The enemy’s tank units had already advanced within range of engagement.

Edge Shoveling switched the communication channel to the team’s voice channel and looked back at his comrades.

"Everyone, pay attention, immediately grab your machine guns and anti-tank weapons and rush to battle positions!"

"The enemy tanks are already within a stone’s throw, but victory will eventually be ours!"

"Let the forest at the foot of the mountain become their graveyard!"

The response was a neat but discordant chorus of voices.

"Received!"

"Let’s beat the shit out of them!"

"Roar roar roar!"

At the same time, the alarms were sounding off at the airport north of Dawn City.

"Board the plane—!"

Following Mosquito’s command, the Goblin Corps’ flight team players hurriedly ran and boarded their respective vehicles.

Fifty W-2 ground attack planes one after another rolled out from the hangar onto the runway.

Those upright 10mm cannons and the iconic 100 kg air-to-ground missiles, even a heavy rain couldn’t hide that chilling glint.

Sitting in the plane, Mosquito donned his pilot’s cap and checked the weapon system and instruments, while giving a glance in the direction of the big guy parked not far away.

H-1, a three-propeller aircraft, Factory No. 81’s latest product.

He heard that the bastards next door even specifically named this thing "Dragonfly," mocking him obviously.

But to be honest, compared to that twenty-meter long fuselage, his tiny plane indeed resembled a fly.

However, Mosquito didn’t feel envious.

So what if it’s big?

Flying high, it’s just a big coffin.

Air battles, speed is king!

"Heh, just you wait!"

Mosquito had already made up his mind.

When his W-3 came out, it would be named "Frog Style!"

Mocking me?

Dream on!

At this moment, the team’s voice channel was noisy.

"Coach! Are you sure this crappy— I mean, this plane can really fly in the rain?" Falling Feather, sitting in the cockpit, shouted nervously.

"No worries! I’ve made it waterproof!" Mosquito casually replied.

"But, but if the battery gets shot..."

Hearing this stupid question, Mosquito chuckled.

"Be confident, even in perfect sunny weather, if your battery gets hit by a burst, it’s all over."

Falling Feather: "Damn!"

Mosquito muted the voice channel of all teammates, cutting off the incessant chatter.

He cleared his throat and with his duck-like voice, bellowed.

"Stop overthinking! Follow me and floor the ignition; just do it! Ollie give!"

The propeller chopped through the fine raindrops.

Mosquito, with the ignition floored, gripped the control stick, and as the speed reached the threshold, he pulled up the nose of the plane.

One after another, W-2 ground attack planes took off, dashing towards the airspace over Pine Valley to the north.

Upon reaching the predetermined altitude, Mosquito accessed the allied forces’ channel via VM.

"...This is Mosquito! We’re on our way! What’s the situation at the front line?"

Noise filled the communication channel.

Every so often, the roar of explosions came through.

Hearing the chaotic sounds, Mosquito clicked his tongue.

Man, the fight had already started!

After a bout of chaotic noises, a quick response came from Edge Shoveling.

"...This is the Death Legion! The enemy tanks have entered range and are opening fire on us! Damn, how long till you guys arrive?!"

"Almost there!"

"Give me a specific time!" Edge Shoveling bellowed.

"Twenty minutes! We are speeding ahead!" Mosquito shouted as he floored the ignition, "Hold on!"

...

South Side Position of Pine Valley.

Tanks at the base of the high ground raised their gun barrels, continuously bombarding the high ground above, suppressing the firepower there.

The Ya Clan’s armored spearhead had all moved onto the battlefield.

The first echelon chose to attack the position directly from the front while the second and third echelons spread out to both sides, preparing to assault from three different directions simultaneously.

The New Alliance’s artillery fire also arrived at the battlefield at the same time.

100mm shells fell from the sky, stirring up dust in the forest and causing significant casualties among the advancing Looter troops.

However, these shells were far too weak against the Conqueror No. 10, as the explosion’s fragments and blast wave only managed to scratch the armor.

Anti-tank obstacles placed at the edge of the forest, although limiting the tank’s routes, were obviously insufficient to fully stop heavy tanks like Conqueror No. 10.

However, players stationed there had prepared other surprises for these tanks...

A tank moved along the edge of the forest, covering a Looter squad of ten, heading toward the left flank of the New Alliance position.

As the vanguard of the assault, they aimed to rush up the high ground first and take over the trenches dug by the New Alliance there.

Right then, from the muddy ground not far from the tank, a paneled turf suddenly flipped open, and a person covered in mud jumped out.

Wrapped around his waist was a ring of Dynamite, his body smeared with mud, appearing like a ghastly demon from the marsh. The surrounding Looters were dumbfounded, completely clueless about what was happening.

The first to react was the leading Centurion, who quickly raised his submachine gun.

However, by the time he pulled the trigger, it was already too late.

The man looked at the tank, his eyes gleaming as if he had spotted treasure, and without a second thought, he pulled the pin from the dynamite and hurled himself fearlessly at the tank’s tracks.

His mouth, filled with mud and water, didn’t forget to shout excitedly.

"Mother pinch cow—!"

Boom—!

The explosion sent a fireball soaring into the sky!

Caught off guard, the ten-man team following next to the tank fell like cut wheat, suffering heavy casualties and deaths!

The tank, serving as cover, also had its face smeared with flying bits of flesh and gunpowder residue.

Accompanied by a creaking sound, the right track rolled off the load wheel, and the tank, midway in its movement, tilted and slammed directly into a tree trunk.

Watching the instant annihilation of the ten-man squad and the stranded tank, Vabu, supervising the battle from behind, was stunned and couldn’t help but curse loudly.

"Damn it! What the hell just popped out of the ground?!"

A young subordinate clutching his rifle spoke tremblingly.

"It, it seemed like a person."

"A person?!" Vabu’s eyes widened, his face filled with confusion.

Are these people out of their minds?!

The attacked tank adjusted its posture, turning the front towards the high ground. The hatch on the turret opened, and the commander, coughing, poked half of his head out from the turret and yelled at the infantry behind him.

"Our track is broken—"

He didn’t finish his words, as bullets whizzed down from the hillside, scaring the commander back into the turret.

The armor clanged loudly as it was scraped by bullets, and the enraged tank immediately rotated its turret, its coaxial machine guns firing towards the hillside, and its main gun fired a 100mm high-explosive bomb up there.

However, the people there had already moved, and the shot, apart from chewing off a layer of turf, hit nothing.

Half out of the turret, Bagro shielded the back of his head with the hatch and shouted loudly at Vabu, trailing behind the tank.

"Vabu, have your men watch their steps! Those Blue Jackets have dug tunnels under the high ground! Afraid there are quite a few people hiding in there!"

Hearing the shout from the armor formation commander Bagro, Vabu reacted immediately, yanking his voice to yell at his teammates.

"Everyone watch your steps!"

"Anything suspicious, stab it with a bayonet!"

Not only one tank was stranded, but soon people continuously popped up from the ground, rushing recklessly to the adjacent tanks.

The first echelon’s seven tanks quickly stranded five, and the remaining two didn’t dare to charge forward, only stopping in place to provide cover for their teammates.

The Looters, following the tanks to the foot of the high ground, could only stick tightly behind the cover, enduring the sweeping fire from machine guns above and the relentless shelling from mortars.

Standing on the northern highland, Dylon held binoculars, his brow furrowed tightly as he stared ahead.

In just ten short minutes, the infantry following the tanks had reduced by forty percent, and tanks from the first echelon sequentially broke tracks.

The New Alliance knew they couldn’t penetrate the armor of the Conqueror No. 10, so they targeted the relatively fragile tracks, even resorting to suicide attacks.

Their combat will was astonishing.

But to hope that such childlike tactics could stop his armored spearhead was too naive.

He had twenty-seven tanks, fifty anti-aircraft trucks, and even five thousand-team squads ready at the positions.

Once they broke through the southern highland position of Pine Valley, his armored forces would directly pierce into Blue Stone County City Area and even possibly capture Far Creek Town, only twenty kilometers north of City of Dawn in one fell swoop.

At that time, the New Alliance would have no strategic points left to defend!

Picking up the radio, Dylon ordered in a deep voice.

"Fourth and fifth echelons, follow up, assault along the route of the first echelon!"

After speaking, he looked towards Bear Tooth standing nearby.

"Prepare for the second round of offense! Have your infantry keep up!"

Bear Tooth nodded excitedly and took the command.

"Alright!"

The ten tanks waiting on the northern highland started to move, accompanied by twenty anti-aircraft trucks and five hundred-team squads.

A surge of murderous intent permeated through the rain.

Dylon narrowed his eyes slightly.

He could almost see the image of the New Alliance’s positions being crushed under tank tracks.

But just then, the droplet sliding off his hat brim suddenly stopped.

Dylon was slightly stunned, then raised his head to look at the sky, his pupils shrinking sharply.

Through the thick clouds that were torn apart like cotton, only a thin veil-like cloud remained, even revealing the blue clear sky behind it.

That faintly visible azure seemed like a crack etched onto a stone slate.

Dylon thought he could see a rainbow in the distant...

A quiet discussion from his subordinates came from beside.

"Why has the rain stopped?"

"It only rained for an hour..."

"The heavy rain stopped so suddenly..."

"Usually, there’s a strong wind with heavy rain, but there’s no wind today."

The cold liquid traced across Dylon’s forehead.

He couldn’t tell if it was cold sweat or raindrops.

Artificial rain...

It was artificial rain!

He had fought in the north and the Grand Canyon for a whole year, seen all sorts of tactics, but encountering such a bizarre strategy was a first for him. The enemy had anticipated his plans and even countered him with rain...

He was too careless!

In the distance, within that fragment of rainbow, Dylon saw specks, forming a tidy formation emerging from the edge of the clouds, diving towards the position below.

A trace of fear written in his eyes, the relaxed expression no longer visible on his face, he yanked the radio and shouted loudly.

"Anti-aircraft squad! Watch your heads!"

"Enemy planes incoming!!"

-

(Note: It seems I’ve been contagiously influenced through the internet... Starting from the upper respiratory infection, moving down to the throat, then to the bronchial tubes, before finally beginning to cough. However, my updates have not stopped, I feel proud, no one say I’m cutting it short, it’s really not short. T.T)