This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 720: Plans Can’t Keep Up with Changes

Chapter 720: Chapter 720: Plans Can’t Keep Up with Changes

North Island, Presidential Mansion.

The sky outside the window had already taken on a hint of dusk.

Mongo stood in front of his desk, not looking at the map on the wall but staring at the manifesto on his desk, no thicker than a finger.

Or more accurately, it was a codex.

Four months ago, they had pledged allegiance to Shelter No. 70, and now their loyalty lay with this codex that everyone had signed.

In fact, without this damned war, this wouldn’t have been such a bad thing for the residents of Shelter No. 70.

They had lost the boundless authority inherited from their forebears, but they could also shed the infinite responsibility bestowed upon them by ancient oaths.

From now on, there would be no distinction between Blue Jacket and the average survivors, whether previous members of Shelter No. 70 or island residents, all would bear common obligations and responsibilities as citizens of the Federation.

No longer would anyone blame a Blue Jacket for poorly repaired roads if they stumbled on their way to work; the Blue Jackets no longer existed, and everyone had to take responsibility for their own path, each person had to carefully make choices for their future.

They should have done so earlier, having received the same education for a century. If there were any differences in knowledge and experience between the original residents of the shelter and those who had languished in the Wasteland for a century, the fourth or even fifth generation were essentially the same kind of people.

However—

Ideals and reality always differed.

He had envisioned a path full of difficulties but had never anticipated that a mere moment’s oversight would plunge them into an irreversible abyss.

It truly was just a blink of an eye.

A perfect excuse for a war, allowing them as victims to stand on an unassailable moral high ground, skipping years of unresolved disputes in one leap. With this perfect opportunity, they could unite the conservative and radical factions, allowing the almost completed Federation to materialize "with a pop."

And he didn’t need to do anything, just overlook for a couple of seconds when he should have been suspicious, letting the warmongering radicals fan the flames even more.

After all, the ocean current power plant had already been blown up, so why not use its remnants for something meaningful?

Let’s just say it was done by Shelter No. 70.

After all, if it had been some hot-headed soldier or even an officer’s foolish act, the survivors’ enthusiasm for establishing a new authority would undoubtedly have been greatly diminished, rendering many people’s efforts in vain.

Once the war ended, if the residents of Shelter No. 70 were willing to open their doors and cooperate with the investigation, it wouldn’t be too late to exonerate them and settle accounts with the real culprits.

He admitted that was indeed what he had thought at the time.

And now...

He was filled with regret.

Footsteps came from the corridor outside the office, apparently not just one person.

Mongo shifted his gaze from the codex signed by countless individuals to the office doorway.

There stood his chief of staff, Charles, with two soldiers wearing silver-white exoskeletons following behind him.

"Mr. President, I heard you were looking for me?" Charles entered the office with a smile, showing no sign of remorse.

Mongo watched him intently and spoke after a moment.

"Do you have anything else you want to say?"

"I..."

As he stared into those upright eyes, Charles was momentarily at a loss for words, but soon burst into loud laughter.

"What do I have to say? I have nothing to say... This question should be mine to ask you, Mr. Mongo. Do you have anything else to say?"

Watching Charles laugh loudly, Mongo spoke calmly.

"You violated the declaration we both signed. You didn’t just betray me; you betrayed everyone. From this day forward, I am relieving you of your post as the Chief of Staff of the Naval Command, and you are no longer my chief of staff—"

"Is that all you have to say?" Charles shrugged indifferently, "Isn’t it a bit late for that?"

Mongo stared into his eyes.

"The fate of the survivors of the Southern Islands Federation should be decided by all the survivors, not just by Shelter No. 70 or by you and me."

Unflinchingly meeting the eyes of the president, Charles’s lips curled into a mocking smile.

"You’re too naive. This war has been going on for four months. If the citizens of the federation knew that it was all a farce from the beginning, our federation would crumble immediately! They would eject us from here the same way they invited us in."

A hint of sadness came over Mongo’s eyes.

"Do you think that’s naive?"

Charles’s gaze gradually turned cold.

"Yes, I do think so, and I believe your naivety will lead us into an inescapable abyss. We have always been on the wasteland; some fools think that our wasteland days are over, but the fact is, we have never left this damn wasteland for a second! Never!"

"The other side of the sea is full of Hyenas who devour without spitting out the bones. If we all harbored naive thoughts like yours and tried to deal with them within the constraints we set for ourselves, they would gnaw us to nothing without leaving any residue! All of us would be devoured!"

His voice grew louder, and his facial muscles twisted, involuntarily adding a hint of hysterical madness to his roar.

However, he soon calmed down again, took a deep breath, and spoke slowly.

"The survivors in the southern sea area don’t need a president; such things can wait until the Wasteland Era is over. At that time, if they want ten of me, I’ll give them ten. At least for now, they need a stronger leader with foresight, capability, and a sense of responsibility to keep them moving forward... That’s what I and those who support me believe."

As he spoke, a hint of disappointment flashed in Charles’s eyes as he looked at his old friend who had once trusted him immensely.

"...Actually, you had a chance. If a few hours ago you hadn’t summoned me but instead sent someone to shoot me, things wouldn’t have escalated to this point."

"That would just lead us to another kind of hell, it’s pointless..." Mongo shook his head, looking at his friend standing before him, his eyes suddenly pleading, "We’ve already made one mistake, there’s no second chance... Stop this, my friend."

As the look of disappointment gradually faded, Charles, for some reason, felt not even a hint of interest in feeling disappointed but only a sense of ennui.

He had thought the guy would struggle a bit, but had only waited to hear a plea for mercy.

Such a pathetic fellow.

Perhaps Alzu was right.

With this group of sheep, there was no need for those roundabout methods; he just needed to be slightly tougher than them to lead them by the nose.

Finally, with a look of pity at the miserable middle-aged man, he took the pistol handed to him by a soldier next to him and efficiently chambered a round.

"It’s too late; my supporters have entrusted everything to me. Praise their loyalty; I won this gambling game without a doubt, and I will continue to lead them onward until the end of the Wasteland Era."

"As for you, just take your declaration and regret it in hell."

"Goodbye."

...

"Bang—!"

A sudden gunshot shattered the quietude aboard the Glory, the flashing muzzle flash causing the corridor doors on both sides to emit a mournful hum.

Nearly twenty-seven sailors suddenly mutinied, capturing seven logistics personnel, and under the leadership of Captain Sari, swiftly took over the nearby cabins and gangways around the broadcast room and engaged in gunfire with the sailors who rushed over upon hearing the news.

Both sides occupied opposite ends of the corridor, using the rooms and doors on either side as cover to pour fire on each other; the entire corridor was filled with sparks and bullet shrieks.

"Stop! Are you... fucking crazy!? Ahhh—"

An executive officer, who was shot in the arm, collapsed in agony and was dragged back behind cover by a sailor at the corridor entrance.

Watching the whizzing bullets and flashing gunfires across the corridor, his widened eyes filled with disbelief.

Mutiny!

He had never imagined that such a thing would happen on his ship!

"It’s you who’s crazy! And the captain too!" shouted a man across the corridor, reloading his rifle’s magazine, "Why don’t you listen to Mr. Charles’s orders!"

"Mr. Charles..."

The executive officer closed his eyes in pain, regretting his past trust as he desperately yelled at his former subordinates.

"What the hell did he promise you!"

Without hesitation,

the man roared back at him,

"A greater Federation!"

The chaotic gunshots drowned out his frantic roar, and as more sailors armed themselves, the mutinied sailors progressively weakened from their initial advantage.

Although Captain Sari had quickly taken over the broadcast room, the expected broadcast had yet to commence.

Instead, the sailors loyal to Captain Dongwen grew stronger under their executive officer’s command and gradually regained control of the corridors.

Clearly, the captain had anticipated this, cutting off the broadcast room’s power supply immediately after the incident started to prevent Captain Sari from inciting more sailors to join their mad plan.

The fight quickly neared its conclusion.

With two sailors guarding the hostages surrendering, the seven captured logistics personnel were rescued, and the area controlled by the rebels had shrunk from the initial entire rear cabin section to just a narrow corridor and a broadcast room.

Including the lead mutineer Captain Sari, only three rebels remained.

Seeing another rebel shot down, the executive officer, pressing his arm wound, shouted behind the cover.

"Surrender! You have no chance left! Accepting legal judgment is your only way out... if you confess your mistake, there might still be a chance to live!"

"And where’s the hope for the Federation? Relying on you weaklings?" Captain Sari roared back, pressing his blood-gushing thigh and leaning against the metal door.

The executive officer stared at him.

"What hope? What are you talking about!"

"What am I talking about? Look at what you are doing!" Sari cursed angrily, "Taking the bodies of mutants to North Island? Do you want to tell the survivors there that our power station was blown up by a bunch of beasts wielding spears?"

The executive officer roared,

"I haven’t investigated so I can’t make assertions! But indeed, someone among us turned blind when they shouldn’t have, most likely Mr. Charles and his accomplices... I too trusted that guy, but the truth is he deceived us all and even plotted to create more lies for his own gain! Wake up, how much longer you plan on hiding this from those survivors who trust us!"

"Hiding? Hahahaha! All they lost is the truth, and you won’t see what they’ve gained! For a century, we’ve never been so united—"

Captain Sari’s words were abruptly cut off.

A deafening roar suddenly erupted from beneath everyone’s feet, flipping over everyone, whether they were standing or sitting.

"Crack—!"

The sound of steel breaking followed along the walls, then came the sound of water rushing furiously into the ship’s breach.

The executive officer barely got up from the ground and his color changed instantly, feeling the tremors passing through the walls, his eyes full of panic.

The sailors behind him reacted similarly, stabilizing against the rocking of the ship, their eyes filled with fear.

Torpedoes!

Someone had fired torpedoes while they were plunged into chaos!

They were hit!

"Retreat quickly!" the executive officer shouted, pushing the soldiers behind him towards the direction of the gangway.

Meanwhile, desperate Captain Sari let go of his wounded left hand and, leaning against the wall, stood up with a grim smile.

"No one can judge me!"

Twisted with a crazy frown from blood loss,

He limped out of the broadcast room, pressing the gun’s muzzle against his bloody chin.

Though regrettable that he couldn’t take control of the Glory, such an outcome didn’t disgrace his mission.

His inner mission.

"For the Federation!!"

His neck veins bulged as he yelled and pulled the trigger. Amidst a blaze of fire and a mist of blood, he was swallowed by the surging seawater...

On the bridge.

Watching the slowly capsizing ship amidst thick smoke, Dongwen, standing up slowly leaning on the console, wrote a trace of surprise on his firm face.

He had envisioned that there could be spies of Mr. Charles on his ship, since even he had once been a supporter of that gentleman.

He had even considered the possibility that the madman’s supporters would go to any extent to stop him from returning to North Island with the evidence, even betraying their own oath under the Federation’s flag to initiate a mutiny...

But what he hadn’t expected was that the madman would order the Federation’s fleet to fight each other to the death for victory...

Without a doubt, that was a friendly-fired torpedo.

Flames raged on the steel surface as surging waves, resembling boiling water, pulled the majestic hull towards the bottomless abyss.

When a systematic error occurred, it often wasn’t because of one or two misguided decisions made by one or two individuals, but rather because the vast majority of people, while making decisions based on their perspectives, instinctively and accurately chose the worst option from the top, middle, and bottom choices.

For the same reason, when a systemic error had become a fact, one or two corrective actions became as insignificant as the errors themselves.

Such was the case with the ocean current power station.

Such was the fate of the sunken "Gold Coast."

This included other similarly close-to-truth freighters, research ships, and their crews, and even himself.

"...It seems Mr. Charles has come to his realization," removing his hat that he wore on his head, Dongwen placed it on the console of the bridge.

This path might be more twisted than he had envisioned.

Just as he braced himself to face the final moments of his life, a sonar communication signal suddenly came through.

The source of the signal seemed to be very close by.

Slightly stunned, Dongwen reached for the intercom switch on the console and put on the headset.

At the same moment, a noisy voice came through the headset.

"This is Dolphin... please respond..."

...

Ten kilometers away in the sea.

A submarine slowly surfaced, revealing its steep bridge.

Glancing at the distant rising smoke and the slowly sinking steel hull, the captain in the bridge calmly said,

"This is Cold Night, Glory has sunk, requesting further instructions."

A voice transmitted through the communication channel.

"Headquarters received, return to North Island on standby after completing the task."

The captain asked,

"Aren’t we meeting at Anle Island Port?"

After a brief silence, a voice replied through the communication channel.

"The plan has changed... something unexpected happened there."

"Received."

After the communication ended, the captain, standing in front of the console, looked back at the somber-faced officers and issued the order to return.

The exposed bridge slowly submerged.

However, just then, the captain, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the sonar screen, furrowed his brow slightly.

Was it an illusion?

The area where the Glory destroyer sank, the active sonar’s echo signal seemed to flicker.

The flicker was just a momentary event.

With a furrowed brow, the captain stared at the screen for a while longer, and upon seeing no new anomalies, he shifted his gaze away from the screen.

Perhaps it was just a scattering of debris reflecting back...

...

"Wasteland OL" Official Website.

During peak login hours, the forum was as noisy as ever.

Especially the members of Jungle Corps, who had just logged out and rushed to the forum, chattering noisily.

"MMP! This NPC really f**king steals kills!!"

"Stealing kills is bearable, but playing taunting horns afterwards!"

"Exactly! It’s so f**king annoying!"

"Consider yourselves lucky; at least you saw the creature. We didn’t even catch a shadow of any monster and just wandered around the port before going back. (side-eye)"

"At least you made a brief appearance on the new map PV! We only got a glimpse of a crab’s ass, couldn’t see anything but the final explosion scene."

"No, we didn’t appear either; we were wearing helmets and goggles."

"Hahaha damn!"

"It seems all the trouble was taken by Mosquito Brother. (funny)"

"Is it just me, or am I curious whether that Laken was tasty? (funny)"

"Uh... it was blown up by an NPC torpedo immediately, and I didn’t pick up the body; should I give you the coordinates to check out?"

"I could go there... but by the time I arrive, even the bones might be gone. But that said, weren’t you curious to taste it? (funny)"

"How could I taste it in that godforsaken place!?"

Today’s big news was undoubtedly the success of the Southern sea area, with the Jungle Corps representing the Alliance and Potato Harbor making a friendly visit to Ring Island.

In a light and pleasant atmosphere, both parties issued joint friendly statements and promised to engage in closer cooperation in more areas.

The governor of Ring Island, Mr. Chaning, stated that the Alliance’s citizens were welcome to visit and invest in the island beyond just conducting trade at the port.

To put it in more straightforward terms—

"Wasteland OL" has a new map!

Although the entire area of Ring Island is only thirty square kilometers, equivalent to four "Wick Islands," the local survivors have developed and utilized this space to the fullest over the past two centuries, just like the residents of Shelter No. 100 who lived their entire lives in a well.

Ring Island’s highly dense industrial model and highly automated production methods have made even the most advanced factories in Giant Stone City admit defeat.

Of course, comparing productivity and production costs is a whole different matter. Currently, Dawn City’s extensive industrial development is the fastest and cheapest, supporting at least two-fifths of the Alliance’s total industrial output.

Both sides have a lot to learn from each other, whether in the field of engineering or sociology.

Especially since both societies were established jointly by refuge residents and Wanderers of the Wasteland, though their paths might differ, their development trajectories share many similarities.

During this process, there was a little incident where a group of "Little Fish" swam near the underwater pipeline, intending to cause some havoc.

Fortunately, two months ago when construction of the underwater pipeline commenced, the players at Potato Harbor were already on guard against threats from the Death Coast.

With just one round of bombing, fifty W-2/H seaplanes managed to take away all the aquatic variant humans that were driven to the surface.

After witnessing the powerful combat capabilities of the Alliance and their determination to maintain regional order, the governor of the Ring Island immediately bolstered their friendly declaration with a mutual defense agreement.

From then on, not only did the Ring Island lend its ports for the docking of military ships of the Alliance, but they also agreed to build an airport next to the island for the use of the Alliance’s air force.

And all these achievements were not only due to the underwater freshwater pipeline but also partly due to the efforts of the Torch Church and the federal authorities.

After all, if it weren’t for those guys causing so much trouble, the residents of the Ring Island wouldn’t have trusted a group of newcomers who had been around for less than two months.

As for now, having used freshwater costing 0.8 silver coins per ton, the residents of the Ring Island can only describe the agreement they once doubted as "Truly Fragrant."

In a sense, like the Moon Clan people who fled to Potato Harbor, they have unwittingly molded themselves into the shape of the Alliance...

Thunder Mage Professor Yang: "Ah, seeing you guys make money pains me more than my own losses. T.T"

Lord Arrogant Brother: "No fun, no fun, crappy game, wait for two years still can’t get an appointment, wait till I get in, and I’ll blow you all up! (Angry)"

Quit Smoking: "What the heck, after two years, is Lord Arrogant Brother still getting New Year’s money? (Surprised)"

Night Ten: "Brother Guang, just let him in. The red-name system has been out for so long, isn’t it reasonable to test it? (Amused)"

No Family: "Don’t do it, if I can’t get the closed beta access, at least I can hang out on the forum, getting my account BANNED means I can’t even access the forum anymore. (Amused)"

Midnight without a Knife: "Bro, why are you so familiar with this?"

No Family: "Cough... I heard it from someone."

Valley Fugitive Mole: "Strongly demanding Baiyue Corporation go public! Damn it, let this group keep snowballing, and they might buy the entire Alliance!"

Fang Chang: "You’re exaggerating too much. Many of our operations are actually financed by loans from the League Central Bank. Do you think all operations can borrow money? But of course, if we could go public, I’d wholly support it with both hands. Despite us earning a lot, we also spend a lot. Going public would mean we wouldn’t have to expand our business by increasing our debt ratio. (Wry smile)"

Edge Shoveling: "What the heck, aren’t your operations big enough yet? How much more do you want to expand? (Stunned)"

Fang Chang: "We’re just getting started. Not to mention the Jin Galun Harbor project, just focusing on the Southern Sea Area, our planned underwater freshwater transmission network has only one pipeline currently in operation, and Ring Island as the only customer. This single pipeline is far from sufficient to meet the fresh water needs for production and living of a million survivors; we need to build more."

Edge Shoveling: "How much money can just selling water make?"

Fang Chang: "Selling water alone won’t make much money, but the trust we’ve established by ’helping locals solve their water issues’ can bring us much more benefit. Especially since the locals are well-educated survivors, many of whom have knowledge and experience not inferior to the experts at Camp 101. They are particularly skilled in the ’Ocean Plot Transformation,’ and these are exactly the talents we desperately need."

Edge Shoveling: "666!"

Spring Water Commander: "Good lord, you’re pretty slick at this poaching. (Surprised)"

Fang Chang: "How can you call it poaching? Whose wall am I digging? They need fresh water, I give them fresh water; they need electricity, I give them electricity, I even provide overseas employment opportunities for their idle community members, and all it costs them is some stuff they temporarily can’t use or is superfluous... I’d rather call it a reasonable redistribution of resources."

Night Ten: "Mother... the Survivor’s Daily should hire you as their editor."

Edge Shoveling: "66666!"

Debt Giant Eye: "MMP, other corps commanders make their brothers rich, our commander just holds a 6."

Construction Site Youth and Brick: "Exactly! Our commander sucks!"

Edge Shoveling: "??? WTF, I invested some money and I hold a 6, so what?"

Debt Giant Eye: "?? When the hell did you secretly invest?"

Old White: "I got Edge Brother to invest with me, it was two months ago. (grinning)"

Debt Giant Eye: "??? WTF!"

Midnight Chicken Killing: "Speaking of which, the governor of Ring Island even agreed to build an 800-meter runway next to the island, so that our air force brothers can land there. That’s one of the benefits brought by that pipeline. (grinning)"

Are Mosquitoes Real: "After all, the water and electricity will depend on us from now on, borrowing the runway to park a plane seems fair. (grinning sideways)"

Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "Isn’t 800 meters too short?"

Are Mosquitoes Real: "Not short, 300-400 meters is enough for a W-2. By the way, I heard that a new model is about to be released, you guys can look forward to it. (funny)"

Fang Chang: "Anyway, since the infrastructure is working well, we should continue to focus on it in the next phase. As long as we connect most or all of the thirteen islands of the Federation to the freshwater and electricity supply network starting from Potato Harbor, we can gain control of the region through indirect economic means even without deploying troops."

Old White: "Like Silver Moon Bay?"

Fang Chang: "Pretty much."

Although the Camel Hump Kingdom had asked the Alliance to deploy troops to Silver Moon Bay because of the frequent irrational acts of the West Winds Empire, and had even offered to cover all costs, this matter was still pending.

The Alliance was recently restructuring its military system, abolishing the fight formation of the ten-thousand troops and restoring the brigade organization from the Human Alliance Era.

Of course, this mainly involved the NPC Legion. Players’ corps could still call their squad leaders BOSS or boss as they preferred.

Meanwhile, as Fang Chang was baiting forum friends with the promising future of the Southern sea area and coaxing them to attack towers, convinced Ah Guang to open the first stock exchange—oh, no, the first casino—in River Valley Province.

If you consider that the Southern sea area is right next to the Torch Church, it truly is a place with limitless investment potential, and all of Baiyue Corporation’s businesses are certainly low-risk and high-reward.

However, just as he was reaching a crucial point in his sales pitch, a certain shareholder from Baiyue Corporation suddenly burst in.

Tail: "Shocking! Breaking news! Σ(°Д°;)っ"

Quit Smoking: "What’s up?"

Falling Feather: "??"

Tail: "Potato Harbor’s neighbor! They’re fighting!

Old White: "...?"

Fang Chang: "???"

Night Ten: "Well, well, Ah Guang flipped the table. (funny)"

In less than a minute...

The entire forum erupted!

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