This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 459: Training Methods that Fit the Characteristics of the Alliance

Chapter 459: Chapter 459: Training Methods that Fit the Characteristics of the Alliance

Just when "Pangolin" was racking up a massive kill count, the "Wasteland OL" official website suddenly showed a hundred accounts logging off at once.

And most of them were new players who had just obtained their closed beta access.

Outlaw Maniac, "Holy shit! Boss! That was so thrilling!"

I Max Black, "Hahaha! I want to do it again!"

Clock Strikes Hunger, "Meh, just whoosh and gone, doesn’t feel as good as..."

Although dying was not a pleasant feeling, for most newbies, the first death was still a novel experience.

Mainly because nobody has experienced it in real life.

As a result, the forum suddenly had a spate of posts shared by players detailing their death experiences, filled with morbid curiosity.

Of course, after experiencing it once, not everyone felt thrilled, because the moment was really too fleeting.

So fleeting that a blink of eyes later, you were already within the helmet.

Wake Up Sleepy, "Tsk, not satisfying at all. Didn’t feel a thing, just a blackout and it was all over. Can we turn on real pain sensation?"

Quit smoking, "Damn! You’re more of a freak than Mosquito!"

WC real Mosquito, "???"

Night Ten, "This bro probably got headshot, I guess. If you got shot in the stomach, you’d twitch on the ground for a while. (Funny)"

Outlaw Maniac, "@Debt Giant Eye. Big brother! When’s the next head giving session? (Excited)"

Debt Giant Eye, "Take it slow, no rush, there will be plenty of chances to die in the future. The next wave’s going to be the Storm Corps. (Smug)"

Spring Water Commander, "We’re not going to give away kills like you guys. (Sidelong glance)"

Battlefield Atmosphere Group, "Exactly! You could at least pretend to put up a fight, I wanted to waste ammo and didn’t even get the chance! Thumbs down!"

Edge Shoveling, "Next time I’ll pick someone more reliable to lead the team. (Awkward)"

Debt Giant Eye, "Cough cough...anyway, listen up, you noobs! War is brutal! Once you’re truly on the battlefield and run into heartless bastards like Old Soldier, you won’t last two seconds! Got it?"

Outlaw Maniac, "Understood! Big brother!"

I Max Black, "Big brother! Why can’t we survive in this game?!"

Wake Up Sleepy, "Right, what the fuck?! What’s with the resurrection countdown?"

Debt Giant Eye, "Er, forgot to tell you guys, if you die in the game you have to wait three days... wait, you don’t know?!"

Outlaw Maniac, "Holy shit!"

Wake Up Sleepy, "I had no clue man!"

Fang Chang, "For a moment I can’t tell if they’re genuinely new players or just faking it. (Sidelong glance)"

I Max Black, "This death penalty is way too harsh! T.T"

Fang Chang, "Stay calm, if you don’t go courting death, it’s not that easy to die under normal gameplay...who holds the record for the longest survival time again?"

Canyon Escaping Mole, "Crow, that guy died only once at the start and hasn’t died since."

Crow, "Eh heh. (^_−)☆"

Teng Teng, "I haven’t died once. (¬◡¬)"

Night Ten, "!!!"

Tomato Scramble Eggs, "666"

Recently, the pace at which closed beta access was granted had suddenly quickened. Originally, only twenty to thirty accesses were given out per day, but last week it shot up to one to two hundred per day, and the player count was forcibly brought to over ten thousand before it gradually slowed down again.

A huge wave of clueless new players poured into the game, and as a result, the forum suddenly saw a flurry of newbies asking for handouts, and the same old questions that had been answered countless times before resurfaced.

Some of it was, of course, put on, while others genuinely didn’t know.

But that’s normal.

Don’t be fooled by some of those backseat drivers who seem to have all the answers. They’re just armchair strategists full of hot air. Once they’re actually in the game, they’re no different from newbies.

The influx of new players acted as fresh blood for the servers, but at the same time, it posed certain challenges to the original server order.

Most of the old players had watched the Alliance grow from nothing and had built deep ties with many characters in the game over a long time, and they felt a strong emotional resonance with many people and events in this world.

They believed they were doing the right thing.

In the process, they could fulfill their own self-worth.

Not just that, the rewards granted by the game mechanics were not only the pleasure of self-fulfillment at that moment, but also included emotional or material rewards on top of that.

But to expect a newbie, who just joined the game, to feel a strong sense of belonging just because they’ve been following the threads and videos on the forum for a while, was stretching it a bit too far.

On a new player’s first entry into the game, they would at most be struck by "virtual reality" and awe of the harsh rules.

If it were any other game, the operator might not care, they might even want players to let go and do as they pleased in the virtual world, and then spend money for more intense sensory experiences.

But "Wasteland OL" was not just a game in the truest sense, and Chu Guang, of course, couldn’t just ignore them and let these energetically fresh newbies cause trouble every day.

Farming is much harder than ruining a field.

To get the newbies actively involved in the game, they had to first be infused with some "positive energy"!

Or rather, to get them to acknowledge and feel a sense of belonging to this "different world"!

Just relying on the Pass the Torch missions was not enough to handle such a huge number of newbies; there weren’t so many veteran players hanging out in Novice Village all the time.

After much contemplation, Chu Guang simply launched an "Army Recruitment" event to throw these newcomers directly into the Army for military training.

During the event, newbies could choose at the start whether to enlist.

If they chose "yes," they would automatically receive a "Soldier" profession, subject to level restrictions, and have three chances to choose a preference, to join either the first or second Alliance Army, or a player Army as a reservist.

Reservist status did not count towards the Army’s personnel cap.

For newbies participating in the event, aside from an event-exclusive gift pack, they would also unlock in advance the "Player system"—VM—typically unlocked at the Citizen level, for the duration of the event.

If they reached Citizen level during the event, they could keep it for free.

With such enticing conditions, it was believed that unless a player had a particular attachment to a living profession gameplay, they would choose to join an Army.

And so, with a series of moves by Chu Guang, the forum’s tone finally normalized, shifting from the brainless questions of newbies to the recruitment efforts of various Armies.

"Burning Corps! Experience the feeling of flying!"

"Death Legion recruitment! Strength and Constitution Types preferred, brothers not afraid to die come join!"

"Storm Corps recruitment! Regardless of your type, if you obey orders, private message to join, the Corps commander will add you to the group!"

"Skeleton Corps recruitment! Drivers wanted! Tank drivers prioritized!"

[Goblin Corps recruiting! We’re pros at shooting cannons and flying planes! Don’t worry if you’re clueless; the Army Commander will teach you hands-on! (evil smirk)]

[The Jungle Corps is recruiting Strength Types only!]

[...]

[The Silver Corps... as long as you’re breathing! T.T]

Chu Guang nodded in satisfaction upon seeing these recruitment posts.

"Not bad! All brimming with energy!"

The majority of new players were congregated in the few leading Corps that had higher appearance rates in the official expansion pack, particularly the Death Legion and Storm Corps.

In reality, the Burning Corps and Skeleton Corps had their fair share of sign-ups too, but one took the "special forces route" with a higher selection threshold. The other took the "armor route", requiring at least a driver’s license and the ability to endure the boredom of long drives.

Most players were still better suited to a more conventional gameplay.

As for how they’d be trained after joining the Corps?

That wasn’t something he, as the Manager, needed to worry about.

Their own people would take care of it!

...

Between Oasis No.3 and No.9 on the Gobi.

The Alliance had set up camp at the foot of a sand dune with the joint forces of Falcon and the Honey Badger Kingdom, building frontline positions in preparation for the next phase of the campaign.

Corporate construction crews were even building an airport at the frontline.

Large quantities of supplies were brought in from the rear by trucks and transport planes.

Not just that, a bunch of newbies who had just entered the Game also arrived at the frontline camp with the transport planes. Since the welcoming party hadn’t arrived yet, they were standing excitedly by the airport, gawking around.

"Desert!"

"Holy shit! That’s freaking awesome!"

Overwhelmed with excitement and ignoring time and place, one newbie laid down and licked the sand off the ground, smacked his lips, and then spat it back out.

"Ptooey! Damn, it’s still salty!"

A few newbies from the same batch started laughing at the ridiculous sight.

"Hahaha!"

"I just saw a camel pass by here, why don’t you ask it?"

"%￥#@!"

A few kingdom soldiers patrolling nearby watched these strangely behaving Residents of the refuge with odd looks on their faces.

One whispered doubtfully,

"Are those guys really okay?"

"They seem... kinda off."

The Centurion standing to the side coughed.

"Don’t worry about them, just focus on your work."

Now that the Alliance was their Secret Country, they heard that the noble lords even let the Manager stay in their own Royal Palace.

Although the Royal Family always denies it, claiming they had prepared a separate Palace for the Manager, who knows the truth?

Even if it were true, those bigshots wouldn’t admit it.

The Alliance’s Manager had already risen above the king, and even though the law didn’t grant Alliance Citizens any superior status over nationals, they had de facto obtained a status higher than ordinary people.

Anyway, whatever those people did, it wasn’t for small fry like them to comment on.

Realizing their own people were causing a scene, a Resident of the refuge wearing a VM soon came over and led those embarrassments away.

Watching the newbie with a mouthful of mud, "Kakarot" lamented,

"Damn it! How many times did I tell you guys in the group to act normal after getting off the plane! You’re representing the Alliance! The collective! If you’re not embarrassed, I sure as hell am!"

Return to soil & Rest in peace looked aggrieved,

"Oh, got it."

"And you guys!" Kakarot glared at those who were still laughing, "Still laughing! Why didn’t you help him up!"

The few newbies scratched their heads sheepishly.

Hand on chessboard: "Ah... I wanted to help, but he, as an Agile system guy, was too fast for me to catch."

Ah Nie: "Alright bro! Next time for sure! Hehe, hey can you show us the Spirit Bomb trick?"

Kakarot: "..."

These newbies were just too damn hard to handle!

Meanwhile, at the frontline command post.

The Spring Water Commander was currently staring at the strategic map, alternately grinning and then furrowing his brows with a worried expression.

Recently, the System had launched a new event that suddenly oversupplied beta test slots, dumping a bunch of newbies on the frontline.

As a powerful Corps within T1, the Storm Corps naturally became a prime choice for countless newbies, expanding their size from one division to half a brigade, and progressing rapidly towards the size of a whole brigade.

While the Spring Water Commander was happy, he was also inevitably a bit troubled.

More people were a good thing, obviously—what commander wouldn’t want more people under his command?

At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before he was promoted to division commander.

However...

It seemed the System had completely dumped the newbie training job onto the Army Commanders and even arranged a few KPI assessment indicators for them.

The rewards that each Corps could get during the event would be linked to two indicators: the "retention rate" and "new Contribution Points" of the new players.

Retention rate wasn’t a concern—being the only "completely real" Virtual Reality Game on the market, players wouldn’t quit even if it meant they had to wake up early the next day.

But the new Contribution Points were more perplexing.

This was the frontline; unless they joined an NPC Legion, there was no chance to earn Contribution Points.

Unless they scored highly during a Battle.

According to the "Wasteland OL" reward rules, during the Battle settlement phase, personal scores would be calculated based on team total scores and individual combat performance, turning them into rewards of Contribution Points and Silver coins. If a personal performance was poor or there was no involvement at all, the reward could even be reduced to 1%.

Freeloading was not an option.

The only idea now was to get the newbies to grow up quickly.

Just as Spring Water Commander was frowning in thought, I Max Black, holding the back of his head, walked in from outside the tent.

"Another bunch of juicy little newbies have arrived, ’Kakarot’ has already taken them to the training camp to teach them how to shoot. Just came to give you a heads-up... uh, what’s with you, why the long face?"

Spring Water Commander let out a sigh.

"There are just too many people, I’m considering raising the barrier to entry in a few days."

I Max Black was taken aback.

"Isn’t it good to have more people?"

A few months ago, this guy was complaining about not having enough people.

Spring Water rolled his eyes.

"You don’t know jack. If they aren’t trained, they just become a burden on the battlefield, useless as hell, might as well stay behind and screw bolts!"

I Max Black scoffed disdainfully.

"Pfft, I never had a day of training and still went to the front!"

Spring Water shook his head and said,

"It’s different now. When the servers first opened, the whole Alliance could barely scrape together a few guns, but the Looters and Variants were as numerous as hairs on a cow. The intensity of the battles back then was much higher than now, fighting from dawn to dusk, you’d wish you could die twice a week. Even if you didn’t know anything, after dying a few times, you’d learn everything."

"Right, die a few times and you’ll learn everything," I Max Black said with a sly grin, slapping his shoulder, "If you ask me, might as well hand out some cheap gear to those newbies and let them go die on the front lines before training them. You can’t really get the hang of this game without dying once."

Spring Water Commander rolled his eyes, about to criticize his lousy idea that wasn’t thought through, but on second thought, he was taken aback.

Yeah.

What instructor could be tougher than an enemy?

He had been thinking that it’s not right to throw inexperienced rookies into a deathtrap, but then again, what training leaves a deeper impression than the memory of death?

This is a game, after all, not reality.

Players won’t actually die even if they are killed.

Realizing he had fallen into an inertial thinking trap, Spring Water pondered for a long time and then, with a thoughtful look, nodded.

"Hmm... this might actually work."

Excitement sparked in his eyes; he turned to look at I Max Black, who was standing at the door.

"That’s the plan! In a while, you take a hundred or so new brothers, hand out some decent weapons, and deliver a fast shipment to our Brother Battlefield!"

I Max Black was immediately dumbfounded.

"Holy shit! Why me?"

Spring Water rolled his eyes.

"You came up with the idea, who else is going to do it if not you?"

I Max Black said with a laugh and a cry.

"But ’Kakarot’ brought the newbies; let him do it!"

Spring Water shook his head.

"He’s got to take care of the new arrivals, unless you want to switch with him?"

As soon as I Max Black heard about taking care of newbies, he immediately shook his head like a rattle drum.

He didn’t mind taking newbies, what’s not to like about work that could show off and earn money? But the problem was, there were too many newbies this time, obviously not the same as the "Pass the Torch" mission.

But thinking of dying and having to wait three days, his face immediately turned as sour as a bitter melon.

"But I don’t want to die either..."

Spring Water Commander coughed.

"I told you to lead the newbies forward, not to charge with them... Once they die off, you pull back on your own, right?"

I Max Black paused.

"Holy crap! Can I really do that?"

"What else do you think?"

Spring Water Commander egged him on, pushing his shoulder and nudging the guy out of the tent.

"Hurry up, no dawdling! It’s over two hundred kilometers from here to the frontline, come back and make another run for me."

And so, eight "Electric donkey" trucks rolled grandly into the training ground.

With a few bundles of rifles in hand and mentally prepared, I Max Black heaved himself off the truck bed and approached the newbies who were in training.

The rifles and bullets on the truck were all surplus from the Lion Kingdom Armory.

The oldest rifle had even been purchased thirty years ago—it would fire, but the quality was another matter.

And those bullets, if two out of five shots fired, it would be considered lucky; even the Lion Kingdom’s own soldiers wouldn’t use them.

But none of that mattered.

According to the suggestion from the NPC logistic officer of the Storm Corps, since it’s just a tentative attack anyway, might as well use the surplus from the allies.

Once this bottom-of-the-barrel stock is cleared out, they would just import new ones from the Alliance.

And on the allies’ part, as soon as they heard someone was willing to help them consume the trash the noble lords had dumped on them, they generously threw the keys to I Max Black without a second word and told him to help himself.

Just like that, the equipment for the extras was assembled without lifting a finger.

’Kakarot’ glanced at the heavy bullet-proof armor on I Max Black and then at the eight trucks behind him, pausing to ask,

"What are you doing?"

"What am I doing? You forget? Today’s our turn to feed Kills!"

I Max Black whispered with a chuckle and then turned to the curious newbies crowding around, cleared his throat, and switched to a serious tone.

"Brothers! The Manager’s orders! We’re about to strike at the Army’s G35-7 position on the frontline! Who’s got the guts to join me?"

A Strength-type player near the front immediately asked,

"Big brother, are we getting guns?"

This was the main concern for the newbies.

In this game, you wouldn’t have a chance to own your rifle before reaching Citizen level, unless you had an experienced player to lead you.

I Max Black waved his hand grandly.

"Give them out! Not only the guns, but also bullets when we arrive at the frontline!"

As soon as they heard that guns and bullets were being distributed, the new recruits got wildly excited and surged forward to sign up, charging onto the trucks with howls.

"Me me me!"

"Boss, look at me!"

"Hook me up with one too!"

Seeing the torrent of people, with many Strength-Type players among those jamming in front, I Max Black panicked. He tossed a rifle aside and said hastily,

"Go on, grab them for yourselves! Whoever gets to it can get on the truck, and if you don’t get one, don’t fret—there’ll be another chance!"

A hundred and twenty rifles were snatched up in an instant.

The recruits who got weapons excitedly hopped onto the trucks like monkeys with bananas. It was just unfortunate that the troop trucks and supply trucks were separate so there were no bullets on the truck; otherwise, these restless folks might’ve fired a few rounds into the sky for kicks.

Finally getting the new recruits settled, I Max Black also boarded the lead truck.

Seeing the boss come up empty-handed, the dozen or so people inside the truck asked curiously,

"Boss, where’s your gun?"

"Yeah, why didn’t you grab one?"

I Max Black offered a sheepish smile.

Of course, he wouldn’t say "I’m not going up there anyway." So he patted his waist pouch, showing the grip of a silver revolver.

"I’ve got mine here, the rifles are for you, I’ve got enough with a pistol."

Hearing this, everyone looked at him in admiration.

Awesome!

Heading to the front with just a pistol.

He’s got to be a T0 Strongman, right?

...

And so, eight trucks carried an entire platoon of new recruits, majestically setting off towards the Army’s G35-7 position.

The recruits who didn’t get on a vehicle stood in the training camp with looks of disappointment, watching the rolling dust kicked up by the truck’s rear wheels and sighing nonstop.

As the trucks disappeared into the distance, "Kakarot" who’d just come back to his senses, couldn’t help but click his tongue.

"Damn... that Dog Spring Water doesn’t treat people like humans."

The new recruits didn’t understand the Manager’s character, but he did.

The Manager wouldn’t send new recruits with no training to the front as Cannon Fodder; it was clearly some rotten idea from that damn Dog Spring Water!

Just as "Kakarot" was about to call the recruits who didn’t get on a truck back to continue training, he suddenly noticed two people from the group he’d just brought back were missing.

He hadn’t even taught them how to shoot yet.

Could they have also sneaked onto a truck?

"Kakarot" glanced around.

"Uh... where are ’Return to soil & Rest in peace’ and Ah Nie?"

A recruit stepped forward, saluting crisply.

"Reporting, Commander! They got on the truck!"

Caught off guard by this forceful report, "Kakarot" took a longer look at the recruit and then curiously asked,

"So tell me, why didn’t you get on?"

The recruit, who called himself ’Chessboard in Hand,’ shyly smiled.

"I’m a Perception Type..."

"Kakarot" paused and looked at the guy for a while.

This perceptiveness...

Pretty impressive!

...

"...Yesterday at noon, the enemy brazenly attacked our positions. Our Army’s Centurion Pangolin, disregarding the hail of bullets and gunfire, took up a machine gun and fought on the front himself, annihilating 127 enemies! Seized 125 light weapons, various ammunition, and only one Centurion died in action!"

"Not bad," the Old Soldier said approvingly.

Oasis No.3, G53-7 defensive area.

Having heard the report Buford had written, the Old Soldier nodded his head in satisfaction.

Just as he was about to commend this lackey, a Sentry rushed in from the anti-cannon hole, looking flustered and saluted sharply.

"Reporting, Commander! Enemy troops spotted in the southeast direction! Roughly the size of a hundred-man team!"

Hearing this, the Old Soldier almost toppled backward off his chair.

Well, damn.

They’re coming again?!

Buford, holding the report, was also stunned.

Just yesterday, a hundred-man team of theirs was annihilated by their side, and today they’ve sent another.

"Are they planning on a war of attrition? Hisss... But what I can’t wrap my head around is, what’s the point of them doing this?"

To deplete ammo?

But they don’t bother to dig decent trenches, and there’s no mortar preparation; they just charge head-on against their machine gun positions without even trying to hide.

What exactly are they trying to do?

Buford was completely baffled, instinctively looking towards the Captain sitting in the chair.

"Don’t look at me; how would I freaking know?"

The Old Soldier cleared his throat, got up from his chair, straightened the officers’ cap he had grabbed from the table, and then picked up the rifle that was leaning nearby.

"Who cares what they’re up to... Anyone who comes here is Marshal His Majesty’s enemy!"

With that, he pulled back the bolt.

"Let’s go, it’s time to meet them!"

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