This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 329: Troops at the City Gates

Chapter 329: Chapter 329: Troops at the City Gates

Upon hearing Chu Guang’s words, Bagro was stunned for two seconds and hesitantly spoke,

"What do you mean by ’had arranged’...?"

Chu Guang continued to inquire.

"Most of the prisoners of war we have captured from the Army come from the 210,000 people in the Expeditionary Army, that is, the subordinates of a man called Dylon, the Ten Thousand Leader. They claim to have joined the Chewing Bone Tribe following their superiors... So are you one of Dylon’s subordinates as well?"

Bagro shook his head as he replied,

"I used to be part of the 140,000-man troop..."

"I know," Chu Guang looked into his eyes, cutting straight to the point, "What I’m curious about is how you ended up becoming a tank commander for the Ya clan."

It seemed he was falling into a memory.

Bagro paused for a moment before beginning to speak,

"It was probably the year before last. The 140,000-man troop I was in suffered heavy losses during combat with the Grand Canyon. I nearly thought I was dead for sure, but I was lucky enough to survive..."

"You indeed were fortunate, just get to the main point," said Chu Guang, glancing at the bandages on the man’s body as he continued,

"...I didn’t return to regroup with the Expeditionary Army, I couldn’t really go back, so I ended up in the Bugra Free State on the south side of the Grand Canyon. There I managed to find work repairing machinery, barely making enough to sustain myself. However, one day while I was drinking in a tavern, I bumped into my former superior, who said he had a new job opportunity for me."

"Driving a tank for the Looters?"

Bagro fell silent for a while but ultimately chose to be truthful,

"He told me he had a friend who acquired a batch of tanks but couldn’t find professional drivers. If I was interested in returning to the old trade and training a group of professional drivers for them, they were willing to pay a lump sum of 50,000 dinars. There would be additional rewards for attending missions, and there might even be a chance to go home."

Chu Guang slightly raised his eyebrows,

"And then you went to Golden Tooth’s place?"

Bagro shook his head, saying helplessly,

"That happened later... At first, he introduced me to a famous local arms dealer named ’Flintstone’. I thought I would end up with a job training instructors and acting as a bodyguard, but unexpectedly, they sold me along with the tanks to the Chewing Bone Tribe."

Chu Guang teased,

"So, you’re a victim too, huh?"

"I have no intention to defend myself, reasons are irrelevant, aren’t they?" Bagro spoke calmly, "I have lost, losing to you as well as to my own arrogance... Now I’m just your captive, that’s all."

This guy’s got character.

Chu Guang didn’t fully believe the man’s story and wasn’t particularly concerned whether he had joined the Looters voluntarily or had been forced into it.

However, from his story, Chu Guang did catch two pieces of information that concerned him.

[The relationship between the arms dealer in Bugra Free State and the Chewing Bone Tribe might not be as simple as just business dealings; the latter seems to be supported by the former.]

And—

[The Army is very likely involved!]

Chu Guang had heard about Bugra Free State quite a while ago, supposedly a survivor settlement near the Grand Canyon in the north, where a group of merchants handled stolen goods for the Looters and occasionally sold them some quality items.

At that time, Chu Guang didn’t pay much attention to this, since transactions like these were common in the Wasteland, and even Red River Town had dealings with the Chewing Bone Tribe before.

But now, it seems this matter may not be as "innocent" as he had thought.

Chu Guang casually noted down this lead and looked at Bagro as he continued to ask,

"One last question, what’s the name of your superior? What’s his rank?"

Although these were two questions, Bagro still responded truthfully,

"Condra, the Ten Thousand Leader of the 140,000-man troop of the Expeditionary Army... roughly the same rank as Dylon."

Condra, huh?

Chu Guang mused,

"Got it."

Bagro looked at the recording device nearby, and then back at Chu Guang, hesitantly asking,

"Can I... start now?"

Chu Guang turned off the projection on the inside of his helmet’s visor and nodded,

"Begin."

...

The next day.

Golden Tooth, who had been tormented by the New Alliance’s bombardment all night long, finally awaited the morning sun after enduring the agonizing experience.

The heavy rain had subsided a little, and the sky was clearing.

Golden Tooth had the streets in the Southern Urban District filled with barriers to stop vehicles, disbanding the thousand troops into smaller groups among the half-collapsed ruins and alleys, preparing to fight a decisive battle against the New Alliance’s soldiers marching into the city.

However—

The anticipated battle that Golden Tooth and his subordinates fantasized about didn’t happen.

Once the New Alliance troops pushed the front line to the suburbs south of West State City, they halted their advance and simply began digging trenches right under their noses.

Unable to tolerate the construction of fortifications right at his doorstep, Golden Tooth immediately mobilized a thousand-man reserve force to intervene and also to test the reality of the New Alliance’s situation.

But—

The despairing situation quickly unfolded.

The thousand-man troop had barely emerged from the urban area and hadn’t even reached the New Alliance’s position when they were subjected to fierce fire.

Two quadruple anti-aircraft trucks had been hidden on either side of the ruins beneath the highway bridge to the south of the city since late last night. Their cannons were covered with camouflage cloths and aimed northward toward the urban area.

As those men entered the range of sight, Brother Mole didn’t immediately order them to open fire. Instead, he allowed them to move closer.

Once they approached within roughly 400 meters, the men finally noticed something off in front. Only then did Brother Mole put down his binoculars, excitedly giving the command loudly,

"Hit them hard for me!"

The two quadruple anti-aircraft guns fired simultaneously, unleashing a storm of bullets.

The volley of "bang bang bang—," like a curse of doom, spread out the high-explosive fire in the sky.

Under the crossfire coverage, the thousand-man troop that had come out of the city to engage in battle suffered huge casualties in an instant, pinned down behind cover, unable to move.

"Ah, my leg!" A Looter missing part of his lower leg lay behind a pile of rubble, clutching his knee and letting out a pained howl.

At that moment, several mortar shells successively landed on their position, instantly compounding their dire situation.

A Centurion nearby had blood-red eyes, flickering with anger and panic. Although he desperately wanted to decapitate those Blue Ground Squirrels and turn their heads into drinking vessels, the fear of death ultimately prevailed.

He shouted frantically behind him,

"Boss, their firepower is too fierce!"

"Without the protection of a tank... we can’t break through at all!"

His implication was clear—

Retreat.

However, their Thousands of Leaders clearly had no intention of retreating, and Lord Jin Ya’s orders left him with no way out...

"Everyone spread out, crawl forward! Their ammo is limited, once we get within two hundred meters, victory will be ours!" the Looter Thousands of Leaders commanding on the front line bellowed with madness, "Their mortars have us targeted; move if you don’t want to die!"

"Anyone who dares to retreat—"

"I’ll kill him on the spot!"

Hearing this, almost all of the Looters’ eyes filled with despair.

In front was the muzzle of the New Alliance, and behind was that of their own. They were sandwiched between, with death seemingly certain either way.

Under the constant urging and threat from the Thousands of Leaders, the Looters on the ground began to push forward in despair.

Gazing at the position ahead, Gnome King Riches, standing behind a half-destroyed bridge pier, called out to Brother Mole, who was commanding the shooting,

"They’re only 250 meters away from us now."

Elena, standing beneath the bridge pier, exclaimed in surprise,

"These fellows are crawling pretty fast."

The maximum range of the Iron Fist Rocket Launcher was about this distance; if they crawled another fifty or sixty meters forward, the Looters could begin to fight back.

Bullets were already whizzing this way, striking the welded steel plates on the truck with a loud clang.

Condra, the deserting Mole, put down his binoculars and waved his right hand backward.

"Retreat!"

The two Anti-aircraft cards began to pull back.

Two trucks deployed in the rear slowly raised their barrels, which they had been carrying on their backs, and aimed at the advancing Looters, firing two 88mm high-explosive bombs with a bang.

The shockwave and billowing dust from the explosions took over the suppressing fire from the Anti-aircraft cannon, temporarily holding back the Looters’ advance.

Just then, a hundred and fifty burly men from the Jungle Corps burst into the battlefield.

Just as the Looters, relieved to see the Anti-aircraft cannons finally leaving, weren’t even excited yet, the concentrated machine gun fire pinned down those who were just about to stand up and charge.

Welded with steel plates, the KV-1 Exoskeleton took the lead. The men, each armed with an LD-47j light machine gun, provided even more firepower than before!

Looking at the situation ahead, the desperate expression finally surfaced on the face of the Thousands of Leaders who were commanding on the front line.

These people...

were complete devils!

Perhaps having seen the tragic front line, a flare rose from the rear. Watching the two green lights ascend into the sky, the Thousands of Leaders finally heaved a sigh of relief and shouted to their brothers on the front line,

"Retreat!!"

The Looters, who had almost crawled up to the enemy’s muzzle, cursed inwardly upon hearing this, but retreating was still a good thing.

The Looters in the rear opened fire to cover their brothers as they pulled back.

Just then, a silver cross, silently soaring above them, suddenly unleashed a ferocious barrage of gunfire.

Facing this sudden storm from the heavens, not only were the thousand troops who went out to fight stunned, but the defending soldiers squatting in the city were also left dumbfounded.

What the hell is this?!

Before, the Alliance’s airplanes, though they had often defecated over their heads, were made of wood. These gliders, they could still shoot them down with a couple of bursts from their rifles, especially when they dived. They had even managed to down one or two before.

But the plane that came this time was different from the past; it never even showed any intention of coming down, firing directly from outside their range.

What’s the point of fighting then?!

Confused by the relentless gunfire from all directions, the thousand troops who went out to fight could no longer maintain their morale and fled back in complete disarray.

What was a team of 1121 when they left the city couldn’t even muster up two hundred-person teams when they returned—and not a single one of those who survived was unscathed.

Seeing the beaten and disheveled survivors, the Looters lurking in the shelters and behind the windows involuntarily swallowed hard, a wave of panic surging through them.

Facing such a terrifying enemy...

Did they really stand a chance?

Just then, a Transport plane flew over their heads, and the Looters squatting in the streets scattered into the alleys, while those by the windows hurriedly ducked down for cover.

The sound of the Alliance’s propellers had become a fear etched into their DNA.

But they soon unexpectedly discovered that what was dropped this time was not bombs but leaflets that fluttered down like snowflakes...

"What’s this?" Gingerly picking up a piece of paper from the ground, Grey Dog unfolded it and took a look.

The paper was crudely made, with a line of text on the front and a picture on the back.

He was illiterate and couldn’t understand the meaning of the words, but he could clearly see the pictures. One depicted corpses strewn haphazardly with a number next to it, likely the count of those killed. The backdrop seemed to be the Pine forest.

Another depicted groups of prisoners receiving food in front of a large pot with bowls in hand.

Additionally, a few black and white Photos were printed below.

He recognized Dylon in one of them; there was a cross drawn over his likeness, next to it were Lion Tooth, Bear Tooth... the others were likely Thousands of Leaders, but he didn’t recognize them.

These must be prisoners...

A flash of realization and complexity crossed Grey Dog’s eyes.

At that moment, a soft murmur came from beside him,

"Being a prisoner of the Alliance ensures your life... Using this leaflet to surrender voluntarily grants you the possibility of being promoted to a supervisor in the POW camp."

Grey Dog looked to the side, where a small man muttered to himself, holding a leaflet.

Noticing Grey Dog’s gaze, the man clearly panicked and hurriedly hid the flyer.

Grey Dog didn’t say anything, however, just walked past as if nothing had happened and casually draped an arm around the man’s shoulder.

"What’s written on this paper?"

The man answered tremblingly,

"Nothing, nothing... it’s just about surrender."

Grey Dog instinctively pressed on, "Doesn’t it say how to surrender? Just walk over with the flyer? What if you get shot?"

The man glanced at Grey Dog in surprise, then quickly looked around. Seeing that no one was paying attention to them, he spoke rapidly and quietly.

"Just raise the flyer... don’t carry weapons on you. The soldiers of the New Alliance and the people from the Guerrilla Team won’t shoot; you don’t want to fight anymore either, right? We could go together—"

"That’s enough, don’t say anymore," Grey Dog hastily cut him off and glared at him threateningly, "Let’s pretend today’s incident didn’t happen. You didn’t say anything, I didn’t ask anything, got it?"

The man nodded tensely.

Grey Dog patted his shoulder and returned to his spot. As for the flyer, he discreetly tucked it into his pocket.

He didn’t know why he had asked these questions.

He had never considered surrendering.

However, after seeing the tragic state of the friends who went out to fight, he ultimately didn’t have the courage to throw away the flyer...

He considered it a fallback plan.

Grey Dog reassured himself with this thought and put the matter aside for now.

But at that moment, a broadcast suddenly sounded throughout the city.

"The looters of West State City, the great army of the New Alliance is at the gates, and last night’s artillery fire was the final notice!"

The booming voice echoed above the city.

Listening to the deafening broadcast, the looters looked at each other, all seeing perplexity in each other’s eyes.

Especially when they heard that the invincible Dylon was dead, their prideful tanks completely destroyed...

This was more despairing than the artillery fire that lasted the entire night yesterday.

...

"These despicable cowards! Vermin! Cockroaches! Timid as mice!"

The fact that the New Alliance didn’t enter the city, but air-dropped flyers encouraging surrender was something Golden Tooth had never expected.

What he had expected even less was that they also set up a broadcast right under their noses, beckoning those of weak will to surrender.

Surrender?

The word did not exist in Chewing Bone Tribe!

"These filthy moles, to resort to such despicable and low means!"

Having torn the flyer in his hand into snowflake-like tatters, venting his rage, Golden Tooth turned to his subordinates who didn’t dare utter a sound.

"After you go down, check everyone!"

"If any coward dares to hide a flyer or talk about what’s said in the broadcast, skin them and hang it on the window!"

"And—watch your defensive areas closely. If they set up another broadcast, tear it down immediately!"

Everyone nodded, heads bowed, not daring to speak out of turn. They simply accepted the orders.

"Yes..."

Walking out of the room, they carried dark clouds on their faces, not wanting to linger and hurriedly walked towards the outside of the tower.

"The chief has gone mad..."

Rock Tooth glanced back at the door, swallowing quietly as he muttered.

Cloud Tooth, standing beside him, heard this and out of fear quickly made a hushing gesture with his index finger, then looked around cautiously.

"Shush... Don’t talk nonsense. Do you want to die?!"

Rock Tooth shrank his neck and immediately shut his mouth.

Previously, their chief had been brutal, but compared to now, he was like a small witch before a great wizard. Last night, someone had been hacked to death in their bed just for mentioning retreat; their body hung from the chandelier with a sign labeling them a coward around their neck.

Now, the entire tribe, whether core, branch, or outside members, whether the underlings or the leaders, all lived under an atmosphere of terror...

When Dylon was still alive, they could try to persuade him, but now, the guy was closed off to everyone’s opinions.

The thought of running away suddenly surfaced in Rock Tooth’s mind, and even he was shocked by the idea.

He had fought all the way from River Valley Province Northern Part to here, a seasoned veteran, yet this was the first time he’d had such cowardly thoughts...

...

"Wasteland OL" Official Website.

As the war drew to a close, more and more battle recordings and screenshots were released, and the forum buzz grew more intense by the day.

Armies took turns showing off their accomplishments, much to the delight of the players, even those Backseat Drivers who hadn’t gotten closed test privileges.

"Awesome! They even brought out the Stuka!"

"That’s no ghost’s Stuka, it’s a diving human bomb, okay?"

"Gunboat! An aerial gunboat!"

"It looks like a C-47, kinda like a TB-3... but it’s electric, what kind of battery can match the energy density of fuel?! And that aluminum material is impressive, the recoil of the 37mm cannon isn’t small either, but it’s rapid-fire."

"Haha, I heard it’s supposed to be solid hydrogen."

"A fuel cell-powered propeller plane?! Awesome!"

"If it’s solid hydrogen, why not just go for an electric hairdryer? (laughing jokingly)"

"I think to save costs. In yesterday’s battle, it seemed like they only fired a round of rockets, and then it was mainly heavy artillery bombardment."

"I think before developing planes, we need to prioritize tanks. How about an electric T-72?"

"Solid hydrogen brand lighter? Maybe we should stick to fuel, it’s safer. (laughing jokingly)"

Backseat Drivers were mostly focused on the unscientific equipment and the speculative technology that was almost impossible to achieve in real life.

As for the players...

Their main focus was on the game’s gameplay and strategy.

For example, the escaping Mole from the canyon even started a thread to brag that the flyers persuading defections dropped by the New Alliance planes were his artwork!

However, everyone clearly didn’t care about his drawing skills, especially when it came to things other than his manga.

The thread quickly veered off-topic.

Difficult for the strong, "Speaking of flyers, I actually found an easter egg."

Canyon Mole on the Run, "What easter egg?"

Difficult for the strong, "Heh heh, I thought it was a shame some flyers fell in places where no one would find them. Worried that the Looters wouldn’t notice, I secretly picked some up and stuffed them into their sleeping quarters. In the afternoon, I wanted to go back and check the effect of the persuasion to surrender, but I didn’t see anyone who surrendered. Instead, all five people in the room were hanging outside the window."

Fang Chang, "What the fuck!?"

Night Ten, "6666!"

Crow, "Wait, why were they hanging outside the window? Σ(ﾟдﾟlll)"

Makabazi, "Do you even have to ask? If you were their boss and saw your guys trying to run away, wouldn’t you do something about it?"

Crow, "That’s so tragic..."

Stop Bickering, "What’s so tragic about that? You would be in a worse position if they caught you."

Elena, "Not necessarily, for Crow, it might not be tragic at all. Round it up and it’s as good as not tragic at all. (funny)"

Crow, "Roll out of here! (#｀д′)✄╰ひ╯"

Canyon Mole on the Run, "Ah, those Rat Brothers are really ruthless."

Gnome King Riches, "Ya Clan, that’s just too cruel. (funny)"

Difficult for the strong, "??? What do you mean cruel! I was just being kind! Where are your manners?"

Edge Shoveling, "Alas, death is preferable to dishonor. You’ve already snuck into their houses, give them a quick end."

Difficult for the strong, "I freaking wish I could, but I just can’t beat them! T.T"

Pick up trash 99 level, "Hahahaha!"

"..."

At night.

Chu Guang, sitting inside the tent resting, was browsing the Forum through VM.

Seeing his own players vividly describing one clever tactic after another, he couldn’t help but inwardly sigh.

"...This is way too cruel!"

Stuffing flyers under pillows and into pockets wasn’t even the most sly tactic.

There were those who waited for prey next to buildings with loudspeakers installed or even set up tripwire grenades in the corridors...

To steady the faltering morale, the Looters had to endure casualties while risking venturing into weakly controlled urban areas to dismantle the loudspeakers tied to walls, hidden in the wreckage of abandoned buses, or installed on rooftops.

But they soon realized it was all in vain.

The local guerrilla fighters were far more familiar with the terrain outside the four new districts than they were. Often, as soon as the Looters dismantled a speaker in the north, a new one in the south was set up.

It was like playing whack-a-mole—attending to one issue only to neglect another.

The roaming Burning Corps and local guerrillas only needed one loudspeaker to keep an entire hundred-man squad busy for half a day.

The Looters in the city had not had a moment’s rest all day...

In the communications channel.

Ma Ban, stationed in Town of Hope, was reporting the progress of his work to Chu Guang as usual and took the opportunity to report on the defection situation.

"...As of now, we have received over a hundred prisoners on our side. I was worried about Looters’ spies infiltrating, so I didn’t take them to Town of Hope but settled them in an abandoned subway station in the eastern urban district, currently guarded by the guerrillas."

After a pause, Ma Ban continued to ask.

"Should we keep these people?"

Chu Guang smiled faintly and said, "Keep them, we’ve said no dufus prisoners, can’t go back on our word. Besides, there’s some use for them, those prisoners have to be managed by someone."

Once dead, they’re just a shovelful of dirt, but alive, they can be used like batteries, consuming very little food with minimum living standards.

There were still plenty of resources to be developed around West State City, and someone had to take care of the dirty work that ordinary people shunned.

By the time the war ended, there would probably be more prisoners of war than the New Alliance population, and it wasn’t realistic for the NPC Corps to manage tens of thousands of people with just a few men.

Early surrenderers would act as supervisors, and latecomers would be laborers; by then, he would only need to select a few guards to keep an eye on those supervisors.

The earliest surrendering prisoners naturally stood in opposition to those captured on the battlefield. To prove their loyalty and "distinctiveness," they would eagerly show off themselves and proactively distance themselves from other prisoners of war.

Guessing the Manager’s intentions, Ma Ban said with a knowing smile,

"I understand what you mean!"

Chu Guang nodded his head.

"Good to know, anything else?"

"There’s one last thing," after a pause, Ma Ban continued, "Today, among the surrendered prisoners... one of them brought a verbal message."

A message?

Sitting up straighter in his chair, Chu Guang was intrigued.

"Whose message?"

"A Centurion named Rock Tooth," Ma Ban said cautiously, "The Messenger claims to be a confidant of Rock Tooth, and they are responsible for the western defense line of the four new districts."

Chu Guang glanced at the map.

The western side of the four new districts bordered the West State Lake, an area of submerged shallows and marshes - treacherous terrain that was easy to defend but hard to attack. Therefore, the Ya Clan wouldn’t deploy too many forces there.

But they would definitely assign trusted people to that area.

A thought flickered through Chu Guang’s mind.

"What else did he say?"

Ma Ban continued,

"The Messenger said their Centurion wants to surrender to us and was asking if we could give him a way out..."

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