This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 696: Capturing the Governor’s Mansion!

Chapter 696: Chapter 696: Capturing the Governor’s Mansion!

"Impact point confirmed!"

"Damn, it drifted left by ten meters!"

"Correcting now—"

"Reload complete!"

Inside the courtyard walls of the Governor’s Mansion, the towering cannon belched a thick tongue of flame, firing a 100mm high-explosive bomb towards the streets near the harbor.

Stepping over the ejected shell case, the loader skillfully moved forward to complete the reloading and closed the breech, while the gunner simultaneously adjusted the firing parameters, ready to fire the next round.

However, before he could pull the lanyard he had just run away with, he was slapped on the back of the head.

"Have you gone mad? Firing at Tulip Street?!" The officer, breaking into a sweat, stormed forward and grabbed the gunner by the collar, swearing furiously.

That was Tulip Street!

Not a single person living there was someone he could afford to provoke!

The gunner, scolded and bewildered, stammered,

"But—but they’re right there..."

"Not even—"

The word "allowed" choked in his throat and never made it out, as three whizzing sounds of something tearing through the air hurtled towards them.

Before he could react, the blaze from the explosion, wrapped in shrapnel, turned him into a sieve and, along with the wreckage of the scrapped 100mm cannon, flew into a sandpit ten meters away.

Overlooking the dust-covered artillery position through the drone’s bird’s-eye view, an Intelligence System player stationed beside the mortar position let out an excited shout.

"Direct hit! The cannon is destroyed!"

"Nice work!"

Morale soared among the Strength Type brutes crouched by the mortar.

Using the coordinates provided by the observer, the gunners quickly corrected their firing data and continued to deliver support fire to their allies stationed on the outskirts of Tulip Street.

The shells rained down from the sky, creating flashes of light at the end of the streets and kicking up clouds of dust and debris.

The Jinjaron Port City Defense Army, advancing on the Burning Corps’ defensive line, was being hammered by the relentless bombardment and couldn’t lift their heads.

Without their own artillery support and lacking heavy weapons, they couldn’t even get a clear look at the enemy before dropping hundreds of bodies.

Tracer rounds pierced the smoke rising from the craters, darting and jumping wildly in the streets. With each spark, a living soul fell, collapsing into a pool of blood.

"Charge!"

"Drive your bayonets into their throats!"

"Cleanse our streets with their blood!"

Soldiers hunkered down behind cover and barricades kept falling, and the Centurion commanding from the front bellowed at the soldiers behind, urging them up to fill the gaps in the crumbling battle line.

Listening to the rampant gunfire and the persistent roar of mortar fire, the soldiers crouching behind cover could no longer withstand the fear in their hearts and yelled at the Centurion.

"Commander! The Looters’ firepower is too fierce! We need heavier firepower—!"

His voice had not yet faded when it was interrupted by a roar.

"We don’t have that damn thing! What the hell are your guns for? Damn it, don’t fire at the buildings! I said aim for the people, not the houses—"

Watching the rookie soldier beside him with the barrel of his gun pointing upwards, the Centurion roared and reached out to press the rifle barrel downwards.

However, at this moment, a bullet whistled by, and right there and then, the Centurion’s forehead was pierced clean through.

"Boom—"

Eyes dilated, the Centurion collapsed heavily onto the ground.

His brain matter and blood scared a nearby rookie who was hugging his rifle so much that he immediately dropped his weapon and ran towards the back, stumbling and rolling as he went.

Seeing their officer killed, the soldiers could no longer contain their fear. They dropped their positions and fled towards the rear.

Just like that, a fully staffed hundred team that had filled the front line for less than ten minutes began to retreat in an orderly fashion.

Watching their comrades flee without a trace, the soldiers left immobilized on the frontline could no longer suppress the fear and despair in their hearts.

They figured they would die one way or another, so they fixed their bayonets to their rifles and, with shouts to dispel their panic, they charged recklessly towards the enemy.

It turned out to be no different from suicide.

A 10mm machine gun mounted on the third floor of a street-facing building was enough to block the entire street, and several soldiers who charged forward with bayonets were instantly pinned to the ground by long tracer rounds.

The battle was completely one-sided slaughter.

The two thousand soldiers of Jinjaron Port City Defense Army lost more than half to casualties in just fifteen minutes, and most of the remaining half were wounded.

On the other hand, their enemies, a group that had never revealed their identities, had not retreated an inch since the firefight started, firmly holding several streets near the port.

Looking at the mess and the bodies almost filling the craters on the street, Abinan, the Thousand Leader of the city defense, had his face written with horror.

The combat power demonstrated by the opponents far exceeded his expectations.

If the battle continued like this, the fear was that all two thousand of his men would fall here!

This could not go on!

He bellowed at his soldiers up ahead.

"Retreat!"

"Everyone fall back!"

His voice was like rain after a long drought.

Finally receiving the order to retreat, the soldiers of the West Winds Empire who had been holding out behind barricades and cover breathed a sigh of relief and abandoned their cover to flee down the streets behind them.

Seeing the Empire’s army starting to retreat, the Alliance did not pursue further. They ceased fire and watched as their enemies disappeared in the direction of the slums.

On the other hand, the battle near the Governor’s Mansion was also drawing to a close.

Crouched in the governor’s mansion top floor study, Nihak trembled, listening to the increasingly faint sound of gunfire outside, while his heart grew even more panic-stricken.

He knew who the people outside were, even though they had never declared their identity, but those fellows were definitely people from the Alliance, no doubt about it!

But for the life of him, he could not figure out how those people had appeared here.

Could it be that the Alliance was already aware of the impending attack on Potato Harbor when Di Rang left from Jinjaron Port, and they simply decided to wait for them in the Poluo Sea?

Where was the leak in the information?

The port?

Or... Tiandu?

Impossible—

Nihak’s brain descended into chaos due to fear.

This dread was much stronger than when that group who called themselves the White Bear Knights caused a ruckus in Jinjaron Port a month ago.

He could feel that those invading the port this time were not some civilian organization but a bona fide Regular Army, and moreover, the kind that had been going back and forth with the remnants of the Expeditionary Army in the eastward expansion of the Luo Xia Province and the Army!

He had not anticipated that the Alliance’s counterattack would be so fierce, nor had he thought that the retaliation would come so swiftly, so much so that he didn’t even have time to move to a safe place from the governor’s mansion.

Clutching his head, he let out a painful groan.

"Damn it...this was Duke Garava’s idea, why are you coming after me? Go find him! That idiot is right there in your City of Dawn!"

The gunfire outside had almost ceased.

Yet the panic in Nihak’s heart grew even stronger.

Trembling, he extended his index finger to lift the curtain a little and was about to peek outside when the door behind him was brutally kicked open.

"FBI!"

"Vice squad!"

"Don’t move!"

A bunch of people burst in shouting incomprehensible language, and in the blink of an eye, the muzzles of several guns were pressed against his forehead.

Nihak raised his hands in fear and screamed as he looked at the black exoskeletons squeezing into the study.

"I surrender! Don’t! Don’t kill me!"

A player wearing an exoskeleton walked up to him, took out a tablet, snapped a photo of his face, and after verifying his identity as the governor of the settlement, put the tablet away. Sniper Bai addressed him.

"Governor Nihak of Jinjaron Harbor, we suspect you are involved in the attack that happened at Potato Harbor the night before last. According to the testimony of Thousand Leader Di Rang and other informed individuals, the squadron that attacked us was shipped from Jinjaron Harbor, please cooperate with our investigation."

There was no trace of color on Nihak’s face, and he couldn’t even muster a word in retort.

Seeing that he had nothing to say, Sniper Bai didn’t bother with further talk and gestured to his men.

"Take him away!"

Two players walked up briskly, picked him up off the ground, handcuffed him, and escorted him out of the door.

The battle downstairs had concluded.

The hundred or so players occupying the governor’s mansion began a meticulous search of the place, not overlooking any detail.

Honestly, the luxury here was astonishing.

Whether it was the grand entrance or the marble floor tiles and the relief sculptures on the supporting columns, everything exuded extreme opulence.

And it wasn’t just about luxury.

Less than one percent of Jinjaron Harbor was electrified, but here it reached a staggering ninety-nine percent.

They had double-door fridges, artistic lighting fixtures, elevators connecting the floors, and a digital central air conditioning system, and there were even a cinema and conference room equipped with holographic systems.

It was unimaginable.

That these industrial creations would appear in a settlement where the majority of survivors still struggled to make ends meet.

However, this puzzlement did not last long, as the case quickly broke when four players entered the kitchen.

"...Well, I’ll be, it was even produced by Dawn City?" Seeing the brand logo beneath the fridge door, the player with a rifle hanging from his chest showed a look of surprise.

His nickname was By Some Mistake, a well-known name of those discarded in the version updates as a Strength Type beast.

His three teammates behind him were known respectively as Step Into the Sky, Half-year Wasting Time, and No Family. They all received the beta testing privilege on the eve of the Yellow Sand DLC and now, with levels in the mid-twenties, they were considered core strength on the server.

"Turns out to be my own wrongdoing?" No Family whistled, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

And it wasn’t just the fridge.

And this oven, as well as the microwave, turned out to be produced in the Dawn City industrial zone, the trademarks hadn’t even been peeled off.

These industrial products, unaffordable to common people, clearly hadn’t improved the lives of the local survivors but might even have made things worse.

After walking around the kitchen, Half-year Wasting Time stroked his chin thoughtfully and said,

"I guess they were exported to the Camel Hump Kingdom and then sold over here from Silver Moon Bay."

No Family, on a sudden whim, asked,

"How many slaves for one of these fridges?"

Step Into the Sky, "...Ten? Twenty?"

Half-year Wasting Time, "That’s too many; no matter how you look at it, a fridge can’t sell for up to ten thousand dinars... Seven or eight should be enough."

In Dawn City, a fridge cost about 800 to 1000 silver coins, around the price of four to five assault rifles. Most residents could buy one with half a month’s wages. Even calculated at minimum hourly pay, just over a month would be enough.

But thinking it over, the survivors living in this settlement were indeed pitiable, not even worth a fridge.

The four left the kitchen and made their way down the corridor into the basement, arriving at what appeared to be a storeroom for Governor’s personal collection.

Faced with the locked door, all four players showed an excited look on their faces.

"You guys back off, I’ll do it!"

Finally, it was showtime. By Some Mistake stepped forward, spat in his palm, then powerfully kicked the tightly shut door.

The door flew meters away, with the help of the exoskeleton’s drive and his tens of points of strength.

This was when the Strength Type was most useful.

By Some Mistake was about to show off, raising his eyebrows, when suddenly shrieks came from the room behind the door. The group quickly raised their rifles and rushed in, only to find two trembling women huddled together hiding here.

They were beautiful, with their sheer nightgowns hardly covering their shapely figures, large patches of pale skin on display. They had likely hidden here in such a hurry that they didn’t even have a coat over them.

Looking at the uninvited visitors, the woman with flaxen hair shrank back, asking in a panic,

"Who, who are you?"

The players looked at each other, unsure of what to do. By Some Mistake reported the situation to the Centurion and then said to her,

"We’re not sure yet, we’ll let you know when we figure it out... Are you the Governor’s wife?"

"No... I, I..." For some reason, the woman suddenly faltered, struggling to form a complete sentence.

Worried about enraging these people before them, the sister squatting beside her quickly sold her out.

"She’s the wife of Director Bihari... the one from the port police."

Half-year Wasting Time, "?"

Step Into the Sky, "???"

By Some Mistake, "...?"

No Family was also taken aback, but his interest quickly shifted elsewhere. He curiously looked at the other speaking woman and asked,

"And you? Are you the Governor’s wife?"

The woman’s expression became a bit embarrassed, hesitating without speaking.

Instead, the wife of the exposed director glared at her sibling angrily, grinding her teeth as she spitefully said,

"She is the wife of the tax bureau’s director Gulamangi."

They glared at each other, sparks nearly flying from their gazes. If it weren’t for the spectators, they might have fought on the spot.

The four players once again exchanged bewildered glances.

After a long time, Half-year Wasting Time sighed and remarked,

"These guys play quite... unorthodox."

No family members nodded in agreement and spoke in a critical tone,

"Please take me with you next time."

By Some Mistake: "..."

...

The discovery in the Governor’s Mansion collection room was just a minor episode; the two of them were temporarily sent to stay with Governor Nikhak’s family and servants.

Compared to the wives of the heads of the Police Department and the Tax Bureau, the players present were more interested in the collections of Governor Nikhak in the collection room.

As the suspected mastermind behind the Potato Harbor raid, his assets would be seized to compensate for the ammunition lost on the night of the attack.

As for the surplus, of course, it would be divided as rewards among the players who participated in the action.

However, to the surprise of all the players, the Governor’s collection was not a stack of gold and silver jewelry but rather some strange objects.

Some of these seemed like pre-war artifacts, such as a well-crafted magnetic levitation car shell and a bionic man from the Era of Prosperity 85, even a relatively well-preserved vending machine and card-reading public coffee machine were there.

Besides these larger items, there were also some odd little things, as well as a large number of pre-war holographic tapes and game storage cards and so on.

The presence of so many Era of Prosperity items here might have been due to Governor Nikhak’s personal preference.

Yet what baffled people was that this man, who was obsessed with that era to the point of madness, had no longing in his heart for that time period.

The players could only try to understand.

Perhaps what Governor Nikhak was fascinated by was merely the technology that seemed magical and could do anything from heaven to earth, but he did not care at all about how that technology came to be.

Otherwise, it would be hard to explain why they were displayed here, framed.

Regardless, the possession of so many well-preserved pre-war artifacts was definitely a pleasant surprise for the Burning Corps.

The Archaeological Team would be interested in these things.

Whether for sociological research purposes or for engineering research purposes, Boss Yin Fang often offered high prices for valuable Era of Prosperity antiques.

The players who had searched the entire villa gathered in the hall; Sniper Bai briefed the current situation and the next phase of the battle plan.

"Team 1 has crippled Jinjalon Port City’s defense army; those weaklings have now retreated to the slums to organize a defense line and wait for reinforcements. The first phase of the offensive has been successfully completed."

"A new mission has been issued; command intends to make this place a temporary base, so we can monitor the area in the northern part of Jinjalon Port. We will be operating in this area for the next few days. To ensure our control over this area, we have two tasks now, one is to reinforce the defenses here, and the other is to evacuate the local survivors nearby."

"Command suggests we can give the locals some money to move them out of here as soon as possible to avoid injuries in the fight."

There’s no international law in the Wasteland, but civilian casualties still need to be minimized, whether for the reputation of the Alliance or the smoothness of their operations in the area.

An Intelligence System player raised his hand.

Sniper Bai looked at him.

"Speak."

The man immediately said,

"Where does the money come from?"

Sniper Bai continued succinctly,

"From our enemy’s pockets, of course. I was just about to talk about this; the largest bank in the settlement is on Tulip Street, and it is currently under our control. Dinar and Cr are still somewhat of recycling value to us, while West Winds currency is just waste paper. In short, we now have a budget of about one billion West Winds currency for this task."

Upon hearing this, everyone gasped.

"Damn!"

"A billion?!"

"If it were in silver coins, that’d be awesome."

Sniper Bai coughed lightly, interrupting the stunned discussions of the crowd.

"Stop dreaming and get to the point. We need to demolish around five hundred houses, which is quite a hassle... Which team is willing to take on this work?"

As soon as he finished speaking, hands shot up in unison.

"Me me me!"

"Look at me, boss! I’m not afraid of trouble!"

"My family’s done demolitions before, I’m experienced with this kind of work!"

"Dude! You even want to show off about this?"

The players argued noisily, vying for the opportunity. They never had the chance to experience the joy of marking houses for demolition in real life, but the game gave them a chance to relish the thrill.

Seeing everyone so eager for the task, Sniper Bai scratched his head and simply closed his eyes to randomly poke at the VM screen.

"...By some mistake, you take your team and get it done quickly."

Watching the envious gazes of the others, By Some Mistake heh-heh’d with a laugh, not forgetting to show off a bit.

"Appointed in the face of crisis, brothers, I’ll take the lead!"

Seeing his ’lucky bastard’ demeanor, a nearby player couldn’t help but roll their eyes.

"Just get lost."

"Be careful not to get backstabbed by the locals."

"Tsk."

Unable to bear the sight of this simple-minded captain attracting hate, Half-year Wasting Time bravely dragged him away from the crowd.

...

Having five hundred people occupy a settlement of over a million was somewhat challenging.

That dense cluster of slums was like a complex ant nest, and the undulating terrain turned this ant nest into a three-dimensional maze.

Sending troops into it without knowing the terrain could easily lead to a situation where the forces were too scattered and faced attacks from both front and back.

Therefore, before the operation began, the players from the Burning Corps had already discussed the entire strategy on the forum—confining the combat area to the neighborhoods near the port.

The most critical facility in Jin Galun Harbor was the port.

As long as they controlled the port, they could retreat or advance at will, continuously receiving supplies from the sea.

Moreover, since the most valuable part of the settlement was in their hands, the Imperial Army would have reservations about launching an attack on them.

And compared to the mud houses in the slums that could be kicked over with one foot, the houses on the streets near the port provided much more reliable cover.

While Jin Galun Harbor was changing hands, there was joy and excitement in the Imperial Capital Tiandu, on the West Coast of Poluo Province.

Bathed in the morning sunlight, the envoy convoy from the Army passed through the northern gate of Tiandu. They were greeted with cheers by the survivors as they headed in the direction of the Heavenly Palace, where the Emperor resided.

It was not only His Majesty’s place of rest but also where he met with his ministers.

Sitting in the armored SUV, General McCullen watched the cheering crowd through the window, bored out of his mind, yet he still put on a smile and waved back at them.

Exhausted, he finally closed the sun shades on the car window and muttered complaints to his adjutant beside him.

"The people here are so numerous."

The densely-packed crowd stretched on seemingly without end.

The adjutant spoke softly.

"After all, this is the capital of the West Winds Empire. It’s normal for there to be so many people."

McCullen curled his lip.

"I know it’s their capital, but this is just absurdly crowded... Are all these folks transformed from mice?"

The adjutant coughed gently, kindly reminding him.

"They are our partners... at least for now. I hope you can show a little more respect towards them, and avoid behaving as you did in the Falcon Kingdom."

Poluo Province was under the influence of the Triumph City Official Group, and the Army’s external posturing in that area was primarily about building alliances, as instructed by His Excellency the Marshal.

The Army’s civil officials had been operating there for many years, trading the worn-out equipment of the warriors for hardworking servants for Triumph City, sending a large number of useful Servant Armies to the western front, even contributing to the achievements with the West Winds Empire.

He certainly didn’t want this muscle-headed warrior officer to mess up.

McCullen said impatiently.

"Understood."

The adjutant gave him a surprised glance.

This was their first assignment together, and he had thought General McCullen would be more difficult to deal with than expected, but it turned out the man was unexpectedly reasonable?

This was nothing like what he had heard from his colleagues.

McCullen didn’t engage further with the man, instead closing his eyes to rest in his seat.

Ever since spending half a year in the Alliance prison, he had changed, becoming much more subdued and grim from his formerly boisterous and domineering demeanor.

Especially after hearing the news of General Griffin’s death.

Uncertain whether it was the brutality of factional struggles that had shocked him or something else, since returning to Triumph City, he had been in a state of self-exile, detached from the core of power.

Even as factions reached out to him with olive branches, he paid them no heed, gradually becoming an outsider in Triumph City, until now, still unappointed as the new Airship Commander.

And still with the rank of two-star Ten Thousand Leader.

This time, a civil official group, also detached from the power core, had extended an invitation for cooperation, asking him to serve as a military advisor for the Army’s strategic ally.

Perhaps seeking a change of scenery, he had readily accepted the offer without much hesitation, though he wore a frown throughout the journey here.

The convoy stopped at the gates of the Heavenly Palace.

The officer from the passenger seat got out and opened the car doors for the two sitting in the back, and soon, a towering and massive spire came into view for the Weilante People.

The shape of the tower was flat, like an angular rectangle, and its walls were as sheer as mirrors. Yet, what was most astonishing was not its magnificent form, but that it hovered ten meters above the ground like a book laid flat, connected only by a man-made marble staircase.

There was only one possibility that could free this grand building from the clutches of gravity.

Gazing at the towering "palace" before him, McCullen narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Anti-gravity device?"

The adjutant nodded slightly, saying softly.

"Yes, its core is a freight starship, you should be quite familiar with that thing."

McCullen snorted noncommittally through his nose.

"Using this stuff as a palace really is extravagant."

"After all, this 3 million square kilometer peninsula is the only ’reserved land’, and the desert and mountains block too much for them. After spending some time here, you’ll understand how things work. Being born here is both a blessing and a curse..."

The adjutant spoke softly when suddenly an officer hurried over, whispering something urgently to him.

Upon hearing this, the adjutant’s face changed drastically.

McCullen, who keenly caught the shift in his expression, slightly raised his eyebrows.

"What’s the matter?"

"It’s nothing, just a small situation on the eastern side of the Poluo Province... But it’s not a big deal, no need for you to worry. We’ll resolve it through diplomatic channels." The adjutant replied, his expression somewhat awkward as he avoided giving a straightforward answer.

McCullen frowned even more, staring intently at him.

"What exactly happened? I order you to tell me immediately."

Rank trumps all, let alone when there’s such a disparity in ranks. The adjutant couldn’t bear the pressure and reluctantly spilled the beans.

"Soldiers from the Alliance are landing in Jinjaron Harbor—"

Before he could finish, McCullen turned his head and started walking towards the convoy.

The adjutant was startled by his reaction and quickly went to grab his arm.

"Wait, General McCullen, what... what are you doing?!"

McCullen turned and glared at him, angrily cursing,

"What am I doing? You said I was here to train the Empire’s soldiers, not to get into a fight with the Alliance!"

He wasn’t afraid of that bunch of Blue Ground Squirrels.

It was just that he didn’t even have a decent troop on hand; relying on these Cannon Fodder to fight the Alliance would be futile. They’d be better off surrendering.

Desperately holding on to McCullen’s arm without letting go, the adjutant tried to explain, looking both amused and desperate.

"You... please don’t get excited. They only landed a thousand-team, and it’s on the very eastern edge of the Poluo Province; we’re on the west side... Besides, we haven’t heard anything about the Alliance officially declaring war on the West Winds Empire. There must be some misunderstanding!"

McCullen stopped in his tracks, looking at him skeptically.

"Are you sure? Only a thousand-team?"

The adjutant nodded hastily.

"I’m certain! Our intelligence network spans the entire peninsula; I can assure you! The situation is not what you think..."

A thousand-team.

To take over Jinjaron Harbor would be difficult, let alone reaching this place.

Realizing he might have overreacted, McCullen’s face involuntarily flushed, and he shook off the hand on his arm, clearing his throat with force.

"Next time, say it all at once, and don’t be like squeezing toothpaste."

You didn’t give me the chance to finish...

The adjutant forced a smile, inwardly commenting, but out of respect for the Ten Thousand Leader, he kept silent.

At that moment, surrounded by a throng of ministers, a man in opulent attire stood at the top of the stairs leading to the Heavenly Palace.

A hearty, bold smile accompanied the joyous and unexpected welcoming.

"Welcome, friends from the North!"

"So glad you could make it!"

-

(Here’s a shout-out to my buddy’s new book, "Part-time Artist." The author’s a real pro, and those who like entertainment will want to bookmark this one. If it isn’t good, you can hit him.)