This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 382: Codename Pangolin?

Chapter 382: Chapter 382: Codename Pangolin?

Exoskeletons are convenient to wear, but not so convenient to take off.

The Old Soldier in the small woods struggled for a while before he finally removed all his gear and handed it over to "Kakarot."

"Bro, I entrust you with my clothes!"

Now, he was only wearing a tattered sack and carrying another, looking even more like a scavenger than actual scavengers, prompting Old Black to almost dig out his wallet.

"Kakarot" straightforwardly reached out his hand.

"What about the VM? Hand it over too."

"Damn! How will I mark my location without the VM?"

"Are you stupid? Can’t you just log off and mark it on the official website?" "Kakarot" rolled his eyes, "Besides proving that you’re a resident of the shelter, does that thing have any other use?"

"Oh... right, I can log off and report the location."

The Battlefield Atmosphere Group suddenly realized this and decisively removed the VM from his arm, stuffing it into "Kakarot’s" hands.

Old Black stared at him with a peculiar expression until his figure disappeared into the woods.

"Is this guy really okay?"

"Kakarot" grinned and patted his shoulder.

"Who cares if he’s okay? As long as the gear is fine. Let’s go, we should get moving too!"

...

The party split into two groups.

"Kakarot" and I Max Black returned to the Storm Corps’ camp in the east, while the Old Soldier followed the survivors’ tracks alone towards the northwest.

The journey was not peaceful.

Perhaps it was his deceptive outfit or because he was alone; even mutated hyenas dared to try their luck with him.

Luckily, he had broken past the LV20 barrier and reached the Third stage of the Gene Sequence.

Even without firearms, he easily killed two hyenas that leaped at him with his nimble skills and improvised weapons, and scared away the last one.

"Damn, knew I should have kept a dagger on me!" Looking at his bloodied and furry hands, the Old Soldier discarded the broken tree branch, cursing under his breath.

Only then did he realize that walking alone in the Wasteland without a weapon seemed stranger than carrying one.

But now, it was too late to think about that.

He picked up a stick, sharpened it into a spear with a rock, and continued following the tracks on the ground.

After walking about ten kilometers, having started in the morning and it now being midday, he finally crossed the dense forest and entered a relatively open area.

Not far away, the sound of trickling water caught his attention.

"Water source!"

"It should be right ahead!"

It’s well known that the vicinity of a water source is the best camping spot, especially the larger the group, the better to choose an upstream area.

Realizing that the Army was camping nearby, the Old Soldier was no longer in a hurry. He walked directly to the side of the stream, intending to clean the sticky blood off his hands and wash his face.

However, just as he was about to splash water on his face, he suddenly paused.

"Tsck... my game character is too handsome; getting closer will definitely expose me."

This won’t do.

With a flicker of his eyes, the Old Soldier decided to smear mud all over his face and after rubbing it in, he looked at the water, finally nodding in satisfaction.

That’s more like it...

But it smelled kind of weird.

Not lingering by the stream, the Old Soldier, armed with his stick, headed upstream to locate the exact position of the camp and find a landmark before leaving.

However, what he didn’t expect was to run into several soldiers armed with rifles and draped in black robes before he reached the camp.

The other party noticed him as well, looking straight in his direction.

His heart jumped to his throat. "This is bad," the Old Soldier thought, clenching the stick in his palm.

But—

The elite monsters in front of him seemed confused by his outfit and did not immediately trigger combat, but warily raised their gun barrels aiming at him.

"Stop right there!"

The Old Soldier obediently halted, and without waiting for them to tell him to drop his weapon, he threw away the sharpened stick he was holding.

The soldier continued, staring at him.

"Who are you?"

"I, I..."

As the Old Soldier started to reply, his lack of proficiency in the United Human language had him searching his mind for words, perspiration almost breaking out.

But—

It was precisely his reaction that made the other side lower their guard.

Looking disdainfully at the petrified Wasteland Wanderer, contempt filled the soldier’s eyes.

"A scavenger?"

The Old Soldier’s eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly.

"Yes! Yes!"

"Where did that blood on you come from?"

The Old Soldier shook the hemp sack he was holding, slowly reached inside, and pulled out the bloody, mutilated body of a mutated hyena.

Seeing the tree branch stuck in the hyena’s neck, a few soldiers exchanged glances, their eyebrows and words filled with mockery.

"I’ve always said, survivors here are just like monkeys."

"Tsk tsk, not even proper weapons, still fighting Variants bare-handed."

"It’s a wonder they survive."

"They’ll thank us, at least we brought them civilization!"

The leading soldier did not speak but also stopped doubting, lowered the gun pointed in his hands, pointed at the ground by his foot, then pointed at the woods behind him.

"Throw all your stuff here, and walk forward."

Old Soldier, although slightly confused, understood the gestures and couldn’t help but experience mixed emotions.

What the hell should I do?

He was just planning to take a look and leave but ended up being caught as if he were a Scavenger.

Those soldiers clearly had no intention of letting him go.

Old Soldier hesitated for half a second, then obediently set down what he was carrying and obediently walked towards the direction the soldier had pointed.

After moving forward about five to six hundred meters, a spacious camp entrance appeared before his eyes.

The camp was situated with hills closely to the north and a stream flowing from a mountain ravine not far to the east.

The entire camp was large in scale but the facilities were severely lacking; there was only a row of wooden fence walls and a few scattered wooden watchtowers, along with a few dozen tents.

Soldiers draped in black robes stood guard and patrolled nearby, too many to count, but likely not less than two companies of a hundred each.

The center of the camp was crowded with survivors who had been driven there. Their numbers were uncountable, but he estimated there might not be fewer than five thousand.

Without them being clustered together, Old Soldier couldn’t have imagined that such a sizable number of survivors lived in the small Rui Valley City.

Unlike him, with empty hands, here everyone carried bags big and small, their faces painted with confusion, fear, or a vacant expression.

Most had been brought to this unfamiliar place without explanation, standing among folks they had never met before.

Before Old Soldier could collect his thoughts, a soldier nudged him carelessly with the barrel of a gun toward the back of the line at the camp’s entrance.

There was a table at the entrance where an officer sat. He held a pen, scribbling on paper, and indiscriminately tossed a tag marked with a number to the survivor standing at the table.

Finally, it was Old Soldier’s turn.

The officer tapped the table with his pen and seeing the man’s befuddled non-response finally spoke impatiently.

"Name."

Old Soldier understood this everyday phrase but naturally, he wouldn’t give his game ID; that would be too weird.

In his anxiety, he blurted out.

"Pangolin... Pangolin."

The officer said nothing, scribbled something on the paper, then tossed the tag to Old Soldier. Most Waste Land Wanderers are illiterate, and using animals or even furniture as names wasn’t uncommon.

Old Soldier suspected that the officer hadn’t really listened to him, but he didn’t linger at the door. After a glance at the number on the tag, he walked deeper into the camp.

A group of people stood aimlessly in the open space.

He didn’t know where to go.

Just as he felt lost, a survivor, who looked similar to him, suddenly approached.

"Buddy, where are you from?"

Old Soldier gave a random reply.

"...Bet Street."

The man looked puzzled.

"Bet Street? Never heard of it."

"It’s a bit far from here... I just got unlucky and was caught," Old Soldier wanted to express, but lacking vocabulary, stumbled through his explanation, leaving the other man utterly confused, likely thinking he had a stutter.

"Really? You’re really unlucky... though I’m not much better."

The man sighed before continuing.

"My name’s Li Ba, I’m from Ten Trees Village... Those guys in black robes drove us here without a word."

"I... am Pangolin." Old Soldier quickly turned to his most pressing concern, "What do those people plan to do with us?"

"I don’t know."

Li Ba’s face wore a noticeable frown.

"They didn’t say anything; after arriving here, they confiscated our food and Double-headed Cows, saying it was for centralized management, then just left us here, telling us to wait..."

As they spoke, a man with a prominent nasal bridge, followed by a line of soldiers, approached the front of all the survivors.

His gaze was like a Vulture’s, and merely making eye contact seemed to silence the previously noisy crowd like cold water had been poured over them.

He surveyed all the survivors once, then Coleway slightly raised his chin and spoke in a commanding tone.

"Effective immediately, the area around Rui Valley City is designated as a war zone due to conflict between the Army and corporations. However, do not worry, the Army will provide you protection until the war ends."

"In return for sparing you from bloodshed, you are required to contribute sweat and labor as repayment for our benevolence!"

No one dared to protest.

Nor did anyone dare to make a sound.

All faces were filled with unease, only Old Soldier, mingling in the crowd, bore a perplexed expression.

Good lord.

These Army folks actually believe they are fighting against corporate forces.

No wonder they had fixed the engine but didn’t move forward, it seems they plan to block the corporate reinforcements here...

Coleway paused briefly, then continued.

"My name is Coleway, responsible for every major and minor matter here."

"Standing next to me is Mr. Finod, the logistics officer. He will assign work to you, allocate living areas, and arrange the daily tasks you must complete."

The man named Finod wore a warm smile, in stark contrast to Coleway’s authoritative demeanor.

This made him appear easy to get along with, yet Old Soldier could sense the undeniable arrogance hidden in his gaze.

Clearly, he didn’t regard the Waste Land Wanderers before him as people, but rather as a pile of resources or consumables or something similar.

Coleway looked at Finod.

"Would you like to add anything?"

Finod, still smiling, replied.

"You go ahead, it’s just those things."

Coleway nodded, once again turned to the survivors in the camp, and raised his voice.

"Don’t think about slacking off. Everyone here has to work, no exceptions! Slackers who don’t complete tasks won’t get food, nor any sympathy."

"Furthermore, for residents who perform exceptionally well, we will not only improve their treatment but also give them generous rewards, such as... appointing them as Centurion."

He paused, staring at pairs of murky eyes, the corners of his mouth slightly raised in a faint sneer.

"Or even as a Senior Centurion!"

Eastern part of Rui Valley City.

After marching for five whole days, the supply convoy and over a hundred players had finally rendezvoused successfully with Brother Quanshui and his group who had arrived earlier in Rui Valley City.

The supplies filling five entire trucks resolved the supply issue of the Storm Corps.

The NPCs arriving with the players were divided into two groups, one returning to the City of Dawn to continue transporting materials, and the other staying at the camp to help the players fortify positions using the construction materials to reinforce tunnels, artillery shelters, and other fixed fortifications.

It was nearing dusk.

Glancing at the time on his VM, the Spring Water Commander looked toward I Max Black and asked,

"Where is that damn Battlefield guy? Why hasn’t he returned yet?"

I Max Black answered helplessly,

"How would I know? He just said he’d try to return before dark."

"I doubt it," Kakarot, with his arms folded, shook his head, "A distance of twenty to thirty kilometers, without an exoskeleton, would take hours to run. Even if he found that camp before noon, he probably won’t make it back until tomorrow."

The Spring Water Commander nodded.

"You’re right, let’s not worry about him for now."

Kakarot looked at Quanshui and asked,

"What about us? What do we do now?"

The Spring Water Commander, knowing he was asking about the strategy to deal with the Army, pondered for a moment before speaking,

"Well... it’s tough. They’ve herded all the local residents into one place; we certainly can’t go around hunting scavengers who are out gathering resources."

It wasn’t entirely about avoiding sensitive moral issues, the key was that such actions were extremely inefficient and would completely drive the local residents towards the Army side.

Suddenly, an idea struck the Spring Water Commander, and he looked up to say,

"Right, those destroyed camps, did you manage to take photos?"

Kakarot nodded.

"I did... what about them?"

The Spring Water Commander continued,

"Later, you take some people to contact the nearby survivor settlements, show them the photos taken during the day, and persuade them to leave their villages and seek refuge elsewhere."

Kakarot hesitated slightly,

"Will they listen to us?"

Escaping was no trivial matter.

Merely based on a few photos, convincing the locals to leave their ancestral homes seemed rather far-fetched.

The Spring Water Commander said decisively,

"Tell them, 150 kilometers from here in Qingquan City, there’s a place called City of Dawn that’s willing to provide them shelter. Once we end the war with the Army, they can return to their homes."

"No matter what they ultimately decide, we just do what we can."

Swaying as many as possible was better than letting them become forced labor for the Army.

After assigning the tasks, the Spring Water Commander immediately went to the side of the supply convoy, found the responsible NPC, and handed him a locked iron box.

The box was light, containing only a card.

That card was personally handed to him by Sesame Paste before setting out to explore the entrance to Shelter No.79.

It was said to be an important mission prop that might change the course of the battle, and he was asked to make sure it was delivered into the hands of the Manager.

The Spring Water Commander himself definitely couldn’t leave the front line, and every player in the corps had specific tasks assigned, so he could only entrust these NPC soldiers.

Although they were logistics personnel, their loyalty was equally beyond doubt.

Or rather than calling it loyalty, it had become more of a belief.

"We have a specially injured person here; I need you to take him back to the City of Dawn... and this box, please make sure it reaches the Manager’s hands!"

Hearing the instructions of the Spring Water Commander, the logistics officer nodded solemnly, took the box with his right fist pressed to his chest.

"Mission guaranteed!"

The Spring Water Commander nodded back at him, touched his right fist to his chest as well, a way of returning the salute.

"For the Alliance!"

...

Official Forum.

Today was as bustling as always.

The news here was far more sensational than that of the Survivor’s Daily, with Storm Corps players bringing firsthand battle reports every few days.

Including where they had ambushed an Army patrol team, how many they killed, and how much equipment they seized—the spectacle was thrilling for the spectators.

Of course,

the most thrilling to the players and backseat drivers was the information brought back by Brother Battlefield...

"Breaking news! The Army has established a new base near Falling Leaf Ridge on the northwest side of Rui Valley City, called the Falling Leaf Camp!"

Spring Water Commander: "Damn, you finally showed up!"

I Max Black: "We thought you had died out there."

Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "Hehe, there was a little mishap. I was just planning to take a peek and leave, but coincidentally bumped into an Army patrol... In any case, by the time I came to my senses, I was inside that camp."

The Old Soldier didn’t dare mention that he was peeling potatoes all afternoon, which was embarrassingly trivial.

Fortunately, the Army men did not discover his Awakener identity or suspect that this mute who couldn’t speak properly.

Instead, a kitchen staff NPC highly praised his potato peeling speed, saying he did the work of three laborers, and moved him from the communal dormitory where the laborers stayed to a four-person room adjacent to the kitchen, now solely in charge of peeling potatoes.

Kakarot: "Damn?!"

Leg-broken Kevin: "There’s such a good thing?!"

Night Ten: "Damn... I just gotta say damn."

Backseat Driver Mole: "How many people are inside?"

Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "Not many, not many, just about five or six thousand I guess, mostly locals snatched up from the nearby survivor settlements by the Army."

Debt Giant Eye: "I don’t get it, what’s the Army trying to do by gathering those survivors?"

Thunder Mage Professor Yang: "That’s because you don’t understand, population is a resource in itself, zero maintenance cost, no technical content, one bowl of rice works for half a day, what machine could be as good as a human?"

Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "Pretty much, the Army organized some people to go hunting, some to scavenge, others to plant horned potatoes and feed the cows... Most of the resources produced here are supplied to that airship, and the survivors only get nutrient paste. Damn, that stuff tastes absolutely awful, feels like there’s gravel or sawdust mixed in."

Elena: "You sure that’s sawdust, not bone fragments or something?"

Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "Damn! Stop it, I’m gonna puke!"

Gnome King Riches: "Look on the bright side, brother, it’s just a hypothesis, maybe it’s wild fruits, tree bark, or something from the Variants."

Backseat Driver Mole: "Seems like the Army has big plans."

Fang Chang: "I get that feeling too... Looks like they plan to support a local force as their chess piece in River Valley Province, just like what they did in Sunset Province."

Teng Teng: "Sunset Province? 0.0"

Fang Chang: "Yeah, I discussed this with Hal, the newspaper president from Sunset Province—Sunset Province’s Falcon Kingdom is a servant nation to the Army east of the Great Desert."

Spring Water Commander: "Regardless, the Army has already responded to our guerrilla tactics, we also need to adjust our strategies accordingly."

Edge Shoveling: "Speaking of Giant Stone City, any reactions there?"

Fang Chang: "Of course, but I can’t really tell if it’s a surge of war sentiment or just plain panic. Anyway, after that day, I saw a lot of weapons being sent to ’North Suburb’, the Alliance’s top brass probably reached some sort of agreement with the upper echelons of Giant Stone City... that’s my guess."

Edge Shoveling: "Man, if those corporate guys had left a couple days later."

Before long, the post was buried under thousands of replies.

Especially after hearing that an officer named Coleway promised that those who contributed significantly could be appointed as Centurions and even higher, many eager onlookers on the forum were egging Old Soldier to perform well, hoping to snag the position of a "pseudo-army leader."

Sitting in front of the computer, Chu Guang was equally surprised.

Damn.

Was this infiltrating into the Army?

"Xiao Qi."

"What’s up, master?" Xiao Qi tilted her head while sitting on the table.

"Can you interface the mission page with the official forum accounts?" Chu Guang pondered for a moment and described his idea, "Basically, let players confirm their missions outside the game, through their official website accounts."

He had wanted to do this before but didn’t see the need then, plus he had been too busy and had forgotten about it.

After hearing Chu Guang’s request, Xiao Qi immediately nodded her head energetically.

"No problem! It’s quite simple, leave it to Xiao Qi!"

Linking the two already developed systems was indeed easy for her, it just needed some data synchronization on the server.

It took less than a minute, the software update was completed.

Now, players could not only check their mission progress on the official website but could even accept new missions there.

With his right hand on the mouse, Chu Guang scrolled through Xiao Qi’s creation, a slight smile appearing on his face.

Not bad.

The players got convenience, and he got the convenience of utilizing the players, undoubtedly a win-win modificationouncil.

The boss is a genius!

...

Meanwhile, in a bedroom in a parallel world.

Sitting in front of the computer with a silly smile and watching the replies rapidly increase, someone suddenly sat upright in their chair and exclaimed,

"Holy shit? This works?!"

Just then, Battlefield Atmosphere Group suddenly noticed a little red dot had appeared in the user information section at the upper right corner of the official website.

Curious, he clicked it open and, to his surprise, found a list of missions!

"When was this updated?"

Old Soldier, utterly baffled at first, but after a few clicks, his confusion quickly turned into sheer joy.

Before this darned game, leaving the VM system meant you couldn’t even do the quests.

But now, Dog Plan finally compromised on realism, allowing players not just to view their mission progress on the official website but also to view newly triggered missions!

That’s insanely cool!

[Mission 1: Infiltrate Fallen Leaf Camp, gather intelligence on Army movements, reward determined by the value and accuracy of the information.]

[Mission 2 (Optional): Blend into the management of Fallen Leaf Camp, gain the Army’s trust.]

[Mission 3 (Optional): ...]

Watching the series of fresh and thrilling missions, Old Soldier couldn’t wait any longer; he excitedly dashed to the forum to start a new thread sharing the good news.

"Folks! Dog Plan updated!!!"

...

As all players on the forum were throwing out lousy ideas to help him refine his undercover persona, Chu Guang felt he didn’t need to worry too much.

Placing a mole inside the Army’s camp was just an experiment; the outcome of the war would ultimately be decided on the battlefield.

Chu Guang never put his hopes for victory on any particular piece of equipment or one or two individuals, but he also didn’t rule out the possibility that Old Soldier might bring him an unexpected surprise.

Who knows?

What if he became a pseudo-army leader and successfully gained the Army’s trust?

Although the chances were almost nil, it wasn’t entirely impossible.

Anyway, with Brother Quanshui in command at the frontlines, Chu Guang had already designated Rui Valley City as a war zone and entrusted him with all matters big and small within this war zone.

Previous battles had proven this player’s capabilities in command and organization, so Chu Guang believed he should be able to plan every machine gun position without needing to worry too much.

On his end, all that was needed was to manage logistic support and ensure ample ammunition supply at the frontlines, and naturally, he would get a satisfactory report.

More importantly, Chu Guang was focused on another team carrying out a mission.

Three days ago, the White Bear Knights had set out from Action Camp and delved into Rui Valley City District, searching for the entrance to Shelter No.79.

Based on Si Si’s continuously updated posts on the forum, their "treasure-hunting operation" seemed to be making some new progress...

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