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This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 510.3: Its Almost Over
"Fuck off!" Eye Owe Money shot him a glare, holding both rifles to his chest. "Don’t even think about it!"
Just then, Lawless Madman came over hauling piles of junk. He scratched his head and asked, "Hey, you guys seen the captain?"
Eye Owe Money grinned. "You mean Spring Water Commander? He went with a few fools to hit the enemy command post."
Lawless Madman blinked. "Damn, he ditched the loot just like that?"
Construction Boy waved him off. "Huh? Whoever picks it up, it’s all the same."
It wasn’t some loot battle. Real battlefield loot wasn’t distributed on a first-come-first-serve basis.
According to the rules outlined in the Player Handbook, loot from ambushes would be registered by the logistic department.
A small portion would be absorbed into the New Alliance’s reserves, but most would be distributed to the players based on contribution points and their discussions.
Contribution points were easy to track. Every player’s role and assigned combat task was publicly visible.
Those carrying VMs were tracked in real-time, and with Hummingbird drones recording everything, who was slacking off and who wasn’t was obvious.
In fact, slacking off was basically impossible.
Who would want to slack at such a fun time?
Besides, battle footage usually got edited and uploaded with cool filters. If they slacked and played around, they would look like a fool online.
Elsewhere, on the Burning Corps’ side of the battlefield, Old Six muttered to himself while looking at the shattered exoskeletons scattered around. "Shit, these guys really came decked out."
Excluding the clones, nearly every squad member had a powered exoskeleton, and tactical belts loaded with grenades.
EMP and fragmentation grenades were practically standard issue for those guys.
Well... It was great new for them.
Free Sniper crouched to inspect the gear, comparing it to his own before revealing a look of shock. "Whoa, it’s the same model as ours!"
They were Light Cavalry exoskeletons!
They had been repainted from black to a concrete-gray camo, with some modifications for the wastelands. They had reinforced arm and leg plating for better resistance to mutant attacks.
In addition to the Light Cavalries, there were also some unfamiliar military-grade exoskeletons they couldn’t identify.
Old Six remarked thoughtfully, "I read on the official site that most Enlightenment Society members used to be groundhogs who lived in shelters. Some of those shelters were tied to the Post-War Reconstruction Committee. It’s no wonder they have Prosperity Era gear."
"True," said Lost Newbie, scratching his head. "Still weird though. Why did they come here to mess with us?"
Prop Master shrugged. "Beats me."
"Who knows what they’re up to. Maybe someone manipulated them... not that it’s our business. I don’t follow the story, I just play the game."
Peepo clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I just know these guys are using regular army weapons, but they fight like rebels... What a joke."
...
Elsewhere on the battlefield, a crowd had gathered by a damaged barrack.
Among them were Wu Changnian, soldiers from the 26th Assault Team, and Yi Chuan, standing there in a daze.
Chu Guang slung his warhammer over his back, patted Neeko’s neck to signal her to lower herself, then dismounted.
Everyone turned to look at him in unison.
There was gratitude, lingering fear, but above all, admiration. Especially from the young soldiers of the 26th Assault Team.
They’d heard before that the New Alliance’s administrator could fight, but they didn’t expect him to be so damn powerful! He wasn’t just a fighter, but one who personally rode a Deathclaw into battle beside them.
Compared to that, Wu Changnian seemed pretty weak. Not only did he not charge into battle, but they were grateful he hadn’t gotten hit by stray bullets. Of course, that was just the naive view of those young men.
Truthfully, even if it was just for show or ulterior motives, the fact that a high-ranking politician had dared to come to this hellhole with them was already admirable.
And even better if he didn’t micromanage the front-line troops and listened to the true professionals. That alone deserved a damn medal!
"Thank you for your assistance!" Wu Changnian exclaimed as Chu Guang approached, clenching his fists with righteous fury.
"These... these shameless rats dared to deceive us with such tricks. The Highest Council will ensure they pay dearly! Any shelter complicit with the Enlightenment Society’s conspiracy will be blacklisted permanently! If you learn anything else about them, please report it to us!"
"I will. The moment they chose to deal with Mutant Humans, they betrayed humanity itself... They’ve become enemies of all order, no matter the form." Chu Guang glanced at the nearby reporters, then turned back to Wu Changnian. "But I still hope that the media in Ideal City can report this as objectively as possible, don’t direct public hatred toward all shelter residents... and I hope this incident doesn’t impact our future cooperation."
The Enlightenment Society had grown by exploiting the hatred of some blue coats toward the Post-War Reconstruction Committee’s system, the fury of many survivors, and widespread despair. That was what drove them to such anti-civilization extremes.
If the Enterprises, Army, or Academy allowed it to fuel broader hostility toward all shelter residents, it would play right into those rats’ hands.
Wu Changnian responded firmly, "The people of Ideal City know right from wrong. Besides, our ancestors were members of shelters too. The Highest Council’s response will not target all shelters. I promise we’ll make that clear at the press conference."
He knew exactly what Chu Guang was worried about, and it was completely unnecessary.
The New Alliance wasn’t just for people who came from shelters, it was built by both wastelanders and shelter residents alike.
Even if Ideal City’s citizens started viewing blue coats with suspicion, they wouldn’t lump the New Alliance in with them.
Chu Guang nodded slightly. "I hope so."
He trusted his allies, but it never hurt to be cautious.
Realistically, their triumph was near. He didn’t want some backroom rats to ruin the victory his cute little players had fought so hard, and died so often, to achieve.
After chatting briefly with Wu Changnian, Chu Guang entered the half-collapsed barrack. Passing the doorway, he patted Yi Chuan on the shoulder to reassure him.
"... Maybe my brother is still down there..." Yi Chuan suddenly muttered as he stared at the hospital bed. "At least... That’s a clone."
Chu Guang didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.
He knew Yi Hai was dead, but he couldn’t say it.
That wouldn’t soothe grief, it would only breed doubt. Giving someone a moment to process things might be the kindest thing to do.
Looking at the motionless figure lying in the bed, Chu Guang thought for a moment and spoke softly, "I’ve always believed that memory is the core of a person. Not just your own memories, but also how others remember you... That shared perception shapes our social identity."
"Things like worldview, values, and even self-awareness are built on that, so in a way, memory is the soul."
"That’s why some people, even after death, never disappear from this world. We carry their memories with us, and they continue to live beside us in a different way."
"Thinking you can fully replace someone just by copying their memories, or even become them, is childish, arrogant, and laughable."
"You never truly took anyone’s place in this world. Not even for a second... You just exploited the emotions of a few, and tricked their eyes for a while."
"In any case, you’ve desecrated something that should never be touched. You better prepare to face the fury of those you’ve wronged."
The person lying on the bed didn’t respond and Chu Guang hadn’t expected him to. The neural link had already been severed.
Even given a front-row seat, the coward behind it didn’t have the guts to watch the fight through to the end. He was probably already on the run.
But that didn’t matter.
Chu Guang had already sent his best players to sweep the entire area.
He looked up at the sky and saw the rolling thunderclouds drifting slowly southward.
Such storms weren’t rare in the Great Desert. They came fast and left fast. Soon, communications in the area would be restored.
And the Great Desert, like all the others, would see clear skies again.
"It’s almost over."







