This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 381 "Scorched Earth

Chapter 381: Chapter 381 "Scorched Earth

Giant Stone City.

At the Eastern Gate trade station, double-headed cows laden with large and small packages were lined up from the city gate all the way to the opposite elevated highway bridge.

Weapons worth fifty million chips would be delivered to the North Suburb of Qingquan City within a week.

This included ten thousand Male Bee Assault Rifles, ten thousand sets of bulletproof vests, helmets, and other protective gear, as well as 3000 KV-1/2 type exoskeletons.

Besides light arms, there were also an assortment of light and heavy machine guns, including 80mm mortars, among others.

It was no exaggeration to say that with sufficient manpower, these weapons could arm an entire infantry division!

Facing the threat from the Army, the town hall of Giant Stone City had nearly opened the gates of its armory. These weapons, prepared for the Tide, were all sent to the North Suburb.

What particularly delighted Chu Guang was that Giant Stone City had also sent over incendiary bombs and high-explosive bomb heads intended to counter the Tide.

These warheads were mainly carried by aircraft and launched either by laser guidance or unguided, typically used to clear mucosal entities in the area.

Effective against mucosal, naturally effective against people as well!

With some slight modifications, these warheads could be mounted on rocket vehicles by Goblin Technology, giving a massive fire projection over a short duration to the Army’s positions.

The power was undoubtedly immense.

Back when he was contending with the Tide, Chu Guang had once spent tens of thousands of chips on air strikes, well aware of the potent physical annihilation effect!

As for how to board the airship...

Huge Rock Military Industry’s response was that they had some good ideas but needed some time.

In the Human Alliance Era, there certainly were space-air landing crafts, but those were usually intended for space stations and large starships. As for atmospheric space-air landing crafts...

There had only ever been dropping from high orbit to the ground, never the reverse.

That would be an outdated "antique" like a rocket, wouldn’t it?

However, Chu Guang was not in a rush.

Faced with such a colossal entity as the Army, he did not expect the war to conclude quickly.

But unexpectedly, just as he was vexed about how to penetrate the defenses of that airship, Goblin Technology gave him a pleasant surprise...

...

North of the City of Dawn, at the shooting range.

What lay before Chu Guang now was an aluminum container as thick as a thigh and as long as an arm, somewhat resembling the oxygen tanks carried by divers, equipped with several connecting rings around it, suggesting it could be used by multiple people.

Chu Guang stared at it wondering for a long while but could not figure it out, so he straightforwardly asked.

"This... Could you tell me how to use it?"

Mosquito chuckled proudly and said.

"Of course! I was just about to introduce you to the latest pride of our Goblin Technology! I call it—’three-dimensional maneuver gear’!"

Hearing this phrase, Chu Guang nearly lost his composure and coughed, saying.

"Could you change the name?"

Mosquito looked puzzledly at the Manager.

Although he didn’t understand what was wrong with the name, he racked his brain slightly and thought of another.

"Err, how about ’Vaulting Monkey’?"

"..."

With a resigned sigh, Chu Guang continued.

"Just tell me about its functions first."

Mosquito immediately nodded, eagerly saying.

"Alrighty!"

The structure of the equipment was straightforward, primarily consisting of a launcher with a built-in winch and a "rocket" carrying a rope.

Its working principle was very similar to that of a recoilless gun.

The only differences were slight adjustments in the amount of propellant and tail flame temperature, and the rocket was tethered by a rope made of Devil Silk.

The equipment was disposable and had a maximum effective range of 700 meters.

An impact detonator was installed at the front of the projectile, which upon hitting the target, would trigger a secondary explosion, using focused energy to drive the hook into the target.

Then, the winch inside the canister would start spinning, pulling the user from the ground toward a high-altitude target under the motor’s drive.

It functioned like a large claw launcher.

However, since it accelerated continuously like a rocket, its launching distance far exceeded that of typical claws, and because the claw’s flight speed wasn’t very fast, the effect of deflection shields was minimized.

After talking till he was out of breath, Mosquito paused and suggested.

"Talking about it isn’t as good as practicing. Let me just demonstrate it for you!"

Chu Guang thought that made sense, especially since he was confused, so he nodded.

"Okay, do it here?"

"Of course not, we need to go south and find a tall enough building, and..."

Mosquito glanced around the shooting range, his eyes locking onto a recently recruited apprentice.

"Giggle, come over here, I have a glorious task for you!"

Feeling uneasy by Mosquito’s gaze, Giggle instinctively sensed something was off.

"What are you planning?"

"To test the Alliance’s new equipment!" Mosquito chuckled, "This is a chance to impress the great Manager, seize it well!"

Hearing this, Giggle was immediately unhappy.

"Damn, I just revived two days ago! You want to send me down again, change someone—"

"600 Silver Coins!"

"Deal!"

When he said those two words, he didn’t even furrow his brows and ran towards the "3D maneuver device" with a face full of joy.

You couldn’t tell that just seconds ago, he had a displeased look on his face.

Chu Guang, standing aside, was dumbfounded.

Goodness me.

What kind of capitalist was this?

Glancing at the overjoyed newbie, Chu Guang hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Is it okay for an Intelligence System player?"

Mosquito chuckled and patted his chest, saying,

"Don’t worry, Manager, I assure you! The equipment from Goblin Technology can be used normally even by Intelligence System players!"

Seeing his confident expression, Chu Guang always had a bad premonition.

The group left the shooting range and headed to the northern part of Qingquan City, where they found a fairly sturdy hundred-story building.

Giggles hooked the nylon buckle strapped to his body onto the large Vaulting Monkey device and then carried it on his back in a squatting position.

"...The reason for this posture is mainly to let the canister touch the ground to stabilize the launch angle."

"No need to explain to me," Chu Guang coughed lightly and said, "Just get started."

"Roger that!"

Looking at the hundreds of meters high building, Mosquito took a glance through his binoculars at the rooftop and then said,

"Elevation angle 79°, target due south—"

"Fire!"

With his command, the device on Giggles’ back let out a boom sound.

A slim rocket shot out from the canister, dragging a white trail of gas and rope towards the sky.

Aside from having a smaller caliber, it was really just like the launch method of an RPG!

Chu Guang gaped as he looked up, seeing the rocket slam straight into the rooftop of the building and burst into a cloud of dust upon impact, driving the hook claw inside into the building’s façade.

A rope made of Devil Silk tightly connected the building to the ground.

It actually...

Worked!?

Shock filled Chu Guang’s eyes, mainly because he had not expected such a purely imagined piece of equipment to actually function.

Holding the binoculars, Mosquito shouted excitedly.

"Hit confirmed! Prepare for landing!"

"Okay, Master!"

Although he was initially a bit scared, seeing that the equipment wasn’t as bad as he had imagined, Giggles’ face gradually showed some anticipation.

However—

Just as he pressed the switch, an accident finally happened.

The winch suddenly powered on, pulling him towards the rooftop and also dragging him forward.

"Ah—!"

Giggles let out a short scream, then like a pendulum hanging in midair, he and the launcher smacked against the wall.

The incident happened too suddenly.

So much so that there was no time to react.

Looking up at the bloodied launch tube being dragged to the rooftop and the shocking mark it left on the wall, Chu Guang felt not the slightest ripple in his heart, but rather a sense of inevitability.

Perhaps in his mental expectation, he never really hoped that Goblin Technology’s products would succeed on the first try.

"Um... my bad, this thing is still better suited for vertical launches, not really for angled launches. I made a basic mistake," Mosquito said with an embarrassed expression, "But I assure you, this design idea is absolutely sound!"

"Once our player gets close to that metal clunker, the rest will be much easier! Whether climbing in through the bomb bay or using a cutter to make a slit in its body to drill in, it’ll all be easily manageable!"

Watching Mosquito confidently diagramming on the spot, Chu Guang nodded slightly with a nuanced expression.

"I believe you."

Whether he believed it or not, aside from this bad idea, he temporarily had no other better options.

The road to success is always twisted, and hoping to achieve everything in one step seemed a bit unrealistic.

However, Chu Guang still hoped that Mosquito Brother would use a dummy next time.

Goblin Technology’s weapons hardly ever let him down.

But this method of development was a bit too costly...

...

Since that imposing airship had unleashed apocalyptic flames upon the Earth, three days had passed.

And the survivors living nearby had spent these three days in constant anxiety.

The Army roamed around levying food, causing widespread grumbling.

Fortunately, a group of soldiers in exoskeletons emerged to teach those beasts a lesson, sending the patrol and transport teams fleeing in disarray, which served as some relief for them.

These soldiers usually operated in groups of four, selecting isolated patrol teams to attack.

They occasionally interacted with the locals, but not much, mainly to replenish fresh water and inquire about the Army’s movements.

The soldiers claimed to be from a corporation, but their Human Alliance language was not very fluent, and the grammar was quite strange.

The local survivors didn’t think too much of it.

Maybe that’s just how people from the East Coast talk, they reasoned, having never been there themselves...

At dusk.

The north gate of Karting Post Station welcomed a group of uninvited guests.

Seeing the troop of soldiers clad in black robes, armed to the teeth at the gate, Village Chief Mudka’s mood instantly sank to its lowest depths.

Yesterday, the Army had just come here, leading away five cows and a thousand kilograms of green wheat.

I didn’t expect them to come back today.

Moreover, the number was ten times that of yesterday, with well over 200 people arriving...

Although I guessed that nothing good was going to happen, the elderly man still moved his lead-filled legs and braced himself to go forward.

"Sir... I am the village chief here, we met yesterday."

His face, crisscrossed with wrinkles, was filled with a servile smile, yet the leading officer didn’t look at him.

Scanning the camp, Coleway narrowed his eyes slightly and spoke in a calm voice.

"Yesterday, one of our patrol teams was attacked nearby."

Upon hearing this, the old man immediately broke out in cold sweat.

Indeed, he had heard gunshots last night, but they were quite far from here, at least three or four kilometers away.

Such things were not uncommon in the Wasteland; it might either be two groups of Wasteland Wanderers clashing or running into Variants active in the forests – either way, he didn’t take it seriously.

"Well, that has nothing to do with us... it must have been done by the corporation, I think I saw those guys in exoskeletons!"

Those people had said that when they encountered danger, they could blame it all on them; after all, they wouldn’t care that much.

Mudka would not hesitate; he immediately revealed their identities.

Uninterested in the information, Coleway continued, expressionless.

"Regardless of whether it has anything to do with you, this area has now become a war zone."

"Before we dig out those bugs and deal with them, you need to relocate with us to a designated campsite."

As soon as he finished speaking, a stir broke out among the crowd, and the faces of the survivors standing by the camp showed expressions of surprise, astonishment, and even panic.

"Relocate?" Mudka stared blankly at the officer, his voice trembling, "But, but why—"

Coleway interrupted him mercilessly.

"There is no why. This is an order."

"We are protecting you and expect you to be grateful."

This was a plan devised by General McLellan.

The Army would build a large campsite near Falling Leaf Ridge on the northwest side of Rui Valley City to accommodate survivors within a hundred-mile radius.

That place, a meeting point of mountains, forests, and plains with abundant water resources, was planned to accommodate 100,000 people.

Once everything was prepared, they would move eastward, demolishing survivor settlements along the way and relocating the conquered people and spoils of war to this site.

By controlling the southern corridor’s western exit, they would effectively chokepoint the connection between Luo Xia Province and the Eastern Provinces.

General McLellan’s ambition was not content with being commanded by General Griffin, and catching a runaway corporate employee or blocking reinforcements from the East Coast were hardly significant achievements.

He intended to expand the Army’s influence 500 kilometers further east, laying the groundwork for the Army’s next expedition.

Since there were no vassals worth supporting in the area, they might as well create one themselves.

This wouldn’t be difficult for them.

They didn’t need to worry about how so many people would survive; humans were like weeds on the ground which, no matter how harsh the conditions, simply lowered their living standards and moral boundaries to ensure that some would continue to survive.

They would cultivate some obedient people to lead these survivors in farming, scavenging, and working.

Those pushed to the forefront as leaders, in order not to be hanged by the slaves, would have to try their utmost to please those holding the guns.

As masters of these servants, they didn’t need to do anything and could instead more efficiently collect supplies from them.

It was a win-win situation.

Mudka trembled with fear, unable to utter a word.

Instead, a young man next to him stepped forward, gathering courage to speak.

"We don’t need your protection; we’ve been living here for many years... and it’s always been fine."

Coleway had no interest in wasting words with such trivial figures and didn’t even look at him, just glanced at his watch, and then at Mudka.

"You have one hour to pack your belongings."

"Anything not taken, I will burn for you."

...

The next morning.

Three small players arrived at the entrance of Karting Post Station.

The closely packed tents that used to fill the camp were now gone, leaving only a mess behind.

From the wooden gate at the entrance to the center of the camp, the ground was strewn with torn cloth and broken wooden crates.

Anything that could be taken had been taken; anything that couldn’t was burned.

The entire camp showed no signs of ever having been inhabited.

"Damn... these bastards are really ruthless."

Looking at the scene before him, the Battlefield Atmosphere Group could not help but click their tongues.

Both "I Max Black" and "Kakarot" following him had similarly shocked expressions on their faces.

"Is this the legendary scorched earth tactic?"

"Goodness... they really didn’t leave anything behind."

"But it doesn’t seem like there was any fighting here; I don’t see any blood."

Unaware of this, the camps they had passed before were the same.

The Battlefield Atmosphere Group pondered for a moment and then said,

"Let’s search the vicinity first."

The other two players nodded.

"Roger that."

Maintaining radio silence, the three set a designated meeting place and time, then dispersed in different directions, cautiously exploring deeper into the camp.

At this moment, their attire made them indistinguishable from the scavengers commonly seen in the wasteland—all wore straw hats and draped patched rags, effectively concealing the exoskeletons and equipment attached underneath.

Forests, mountains, and urban areas provided convenient concealment, but the survivor settlements were mostly located on the plains at the forest edges, and were likely under close surveillance by observers aboard the "Steel Heart." No matter how one might disguise themselves, unless the observers were blind, they could not completely miss exoskeletons moving across the plains.

The outfits, though unsightly, helped them evade the gaze from above.

Even though the army didn’t care about injuring civilians, they wouldn’t waste rockets on a few passing scavengers.

If that were to happen, two more airships wouldn’t be enough.

Ignoring the airship drifting in the distance, the Battlefield Atmosphere Group picked through the camp, occasionally pocketing some charred charcoal into their sacks.

Firstly, it made them look the part, and secondly, they could use the charcoal to cook instant noodles later.

Their purpose for visiting this survivor’s residence was twofold: to gather information about the army and to fill their water bottles.

Unfortunately, neither goal was achievable now.

The Battlefield Atmosphere Group noticed that the camp’s only two wells had been filled with rubbish.

Sealing the water sources effectively ruined the village.

"No bodies found."

"Kakarot" returned from nearby and continued, "The army has taken everyone from here—men, women, old people, children... and their double-headed cows."

The Battlefield Atmosphere Group nodded thoughtfully.

"It seems they’re getting desperate..."

Within three days, they had launched more than 12 raids following their plan, targeting weak patrol teams and ensuring each raid lasted no longer than three minutes.

No matter the outcome, they would retreat immediately after three minutes, never getting bogged down or giving the enemy a chance to call for fire support.

This combat method was very effective.

In fact, the majority of ten-man squads couldn’t last three minutes against their four-man team of players.

Ammunition consumption?

That was never a problem. When their LD-47 ammunition ran out, they simply used weapons scavenged from the army.

Though the "Blade" assault rifles from the Marine Corps weren’t as well-made as the army’s "Falcon," their firepower was comparable.

With this "war-funding-war" strategy, they not only depleted the army’s manpower but also saw their ammunition and firepower increase.

Faced with continuous guerrilla harassment, the army was forced to reduce their patrol areas and increase the size of each patrol team.

But he didn’t expect that the army would go as far as dismantling the settlements in their jurisdiction.

These tactics by the "Steel Heart" were almost identical to those adopted by the Chewing Bone Tribe in the West State City during the academy days.

"I Max Black" couldn’t help asking.

"Where would those survivors be taken?"

"Kakarot" shook his head.

"I don’t know, but I think they wouldn’t take them to the airships. Probably to some sort of internment camp, making them work or go to nearby urban areas to collect supplies."

The army was somewhat different from the looters; at least they didn’t resort to cannibalism.

Hearing "Kakarot’s" speculation, "I Max Black" faltered.

"Are the survivors that submissive?"

"Kakarot" rolled his eyes. "Setting aside traders and mercenaries, local survivors have families, and making them comply isn’t so straightforward."

Whether it’s using food or other means as leverage or hiring looters and mercenaries as foremen, he could think of more than ten ways off the top of his head.

Not to mention those "professionals".

The simplest method was like what they saw: just tearing down the survivors’ homes.

With no home to return to and not wanting to sleep in the wild, at risk of becoming variants’ feces, they had no choice but to stay within the army-controlled camps.

Survivors capable of living alone in the wild were, after all, a minority.

Most people cut off from a stable survivor settlement would meet an end not much better than losing their freedom.

"This might be an opportunity for us," murmured the Battlefield Atmosphere Group, stroking his chin. "If we find the camp where they’re holding the survivors, we might be able to sneak in and cause some trouble."

"Kakarot’s" eyes lit up.

"That’s a good idea."

Didn’t expect this brute to occasionally come up with a couple of decent ideas.

"I Max Black" hesitated briefly, then spoke cautiously.

"I suggest we head back to the base twenty kilometers out, report this situation to Brother Quanshui."

"And... our supply team should have arrived today; we should head back and regroup."

"That makes sense," the Old Soldier pondered momentarily, then spoke. "Here’s the plan... you and ’Kakarot’ head back first and take my exoskeleton as well. I’ll follow their trail a bit more; once I’ve pinpointed the camp, I’ll head back and meet up with you."

While the tracks were still fresh, it shouldn’t be hard to follow.

Wait any longer, like until it rains, and it wouldn’t be so easy.

"I Max Black" was momentarily hesitant, but finally nodded.

"Be careful."

The Old Soldier flashed a cheeky smile, giving his buddies a reassuring look.

"Worry not, what level I’m at, don’t you know?"

"I Max Black" showed a subtle expression, and "Kakarot" simply rolled his eyes.

"Stop your damn bragging, get your gear off and scram."

The Old Soldier chuckled.

"We can’t strip here, can we?"

Saying so, he glanced at the small grove nearby.

"Give me a moment."