Chapter 939 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 939: The Dawn of the Velanteans Despite his usual lack of seriousness and tendency to come up with harebrained schemes, this time, Yashi's plan indeed proved to be effective. With the assistance of the Velante Alliance's southern border defense forces, they quickly completed the screening of the first batch of 43,000 Velanteans who had entered the Velante Province and confirmed that 152 of them were infected with the "Death Agent" virus. Shockingly, two-thirds of these patients were elderly and children. Their immune systems were already on the weaker side, and after being battered by sea spray and cold winds before coming ashore, several hadn't even survived the incubation period of the "Death Agent" before falling prey to severe colds. The third manpower unit, responsible for setting up quarantine zones, relocated these patients to separate camps and tents, and after the transfer was completed, informed the patients of their diagnosis. Upon learning that he was carrying the "Death Agent" virus, old Bazel's face instantly showed an expression of disbelief. "Death, Death Agent?! How, how can this be... I'm perfectly healthy, those sneezing weren't sick, why is it me?!" As he spoke, the expression of shock gradually turned into one of fear. He wasn’t entirely worried about his own safety; his thoughts drifted to his wife, who had departed with the same group. The soldier in an orange protective suit sat across from him, nodding solemnly. "According to research data provided by the alliance, the symptoms of the Death Agent typically manifest two weeks after infection. You currently have no symptoms, indicating the infection likely occurred recently. We hope you can tell us the areas you traveled through, and the identification of the escort or, rather, guard troops, along with any other valuable clues you might have." Here, he paused for a moment and added in a serious tone. "We are doing everything possible to rescue you, so please do tell us any information you have... it’s crucial!" Sensing the seriousness in his tone, old Bazel suppressed the complex expression on his face. Calming himself, he pondered for a long time before speaking slowly. "My home is in Avan City... Glory Road, at the very core of the city, you could say." "Glory Road?" The soldier showed a look of surprise, quickly scribbling in his notebook without pause. Old Bazel also looked at him with surprise. "You know the place?" The recording soldier nodded. "Of course... or rather, there's no need to know, those living on Glory Road are all family members of the military." Old Bazel said with a complicated look. "And they're families of fallen soldiers." This was one of the traditions inherited from Triumph City by various corps, established during Marshal Julius's era as a social welfare measure. The military families residing on Glory Row receive a monthly pension, regular health checkups, and free medical care. After all, only by alleviating soldiers' worries about their families can they charge forward fearlessly. Even until a week ago, he was still enjoying benefits comparable to an active centurion. The soldier continued questioning. "Do you remember which unit took you away?" Old Bazel nodded and continued. "The force that mobilized us was the guard unit of Commander Tyr, though I don't know which specific manpower unit it was. They were courteous in their approach... We were among the first to reach the docks but not quite the first, as the ferries were gone and there were just a dozen small boats left." Noting this quickly, the soldier promptly asked another question. "Were they wearing protective suits?" Old Bazel was puzzled for a moment, recollecting before shaking his head. "Seems... not, but I did see gas masks. It was around that time I heard about a plague, though no one paid much attention to it, nor did I." The recording soldier exchanged a glance with the one standing at the door. The latter had a nuanced expression, muttering in a low voice. "I heard from the alliance... the incidence rate among the Awakened isn’t particularly high." "Is that so..." The recording soldier murmured thoughtfully, writing this speculation as a note beside the records. Whether the virus was released by Tyr's personal guard or not, they were certainly involved. Once this whole affair is concluded and the dust settles, a thorough investigation will naturally be conducted. Having finished the records, the soldier closed his notebook and looked earnestly at the old man before him. "Thank you for your cooperation. If you have any additional information, please contact us at any time. Also, due to the presence of the 'Death Agent' virus, we hope you can remain in the quarantine zone and avoid contact with others." "We will cover all your living expenses during the quarantine period, and if there's anything you need, we’ll do our best to assist. Just one thing—please do not leave this place." Old Bazel gave an embarrassed smile. "Oh, it's no trouble at all... It's I who am troubling you, needing your care." He was a traditional Velantean, loyal to and mindful of his obligations to the collective, unwilling to be a burden. Perhaps it was just his perception, but he felt these young men from Triumph City standing before him had changed from the ones he remembered. They were also devoted to serving the collective, but with a different understanding. He couldn't quite pinpoint the difference, but it was there. Hearing the old man's words, the young soldier smiled and said: "No need to be formal, we're fellow citizens. How could we ignore you? If there's anything you need to say, please do so without hesitation or feeling like a burden." With that, he rose to leave. However, at that moment, the old man opposite suddenly seemed to remember something and grabbed his arm. The soldier looked at him in surprise, and old Bazel spoke seriously. "By the way, I’ve heard... this Death Agent is some kind of genetic weapon from the wastelands?" The soldier hesitated, then replied with uncertainty. "Currently, the identity of the attackers is unknown... but available intel confirms the Death Agent was indeed engineered by humans." This was the information released by the guards. He wasn't sure whether it was appropriate to disclose this to the patient, but their superiors had not prohibited it. Old Bazel nodded, released his grip, and after a moment of silence, suddenly spoke. "I suddenly remember... two days before we left, I had a check-up at the hospital on Glory Road and even had blood tests done. What should have taken only half an hour got dragged out into a three-hour ordeal. I found it strange at the time, but didn’t give it much thought." "The hospital on Glory Road? Do you remember which one?" The soldier paused, hastily opening his notebook to add this clue. "There’s only one hospital there, the whole street’s residents go there." As the soldier hurriedly wrote, the old man continued in a quiet voice. "Listen, should it come to it, don’t hold back... I’m willing to take this virus to the grave." The soldier halted his writing, looking up at the old man in surprise. Old Bazel gave a broad grin, offering the young man an encouraging look. "I’m content having survived in the wasteland until 79... Thinking of using me as a weapon against Velanteans? I’ll show that fool no chance!" He understood everything. The culprit was Tyr, no other suspect or perpetrator existed. This entire affair was solely Tyr’s conspiracy from the start. How could he stoop to such foolishness? Could a person this foolish even ascend to the position of commander? Ha, only children would think like that. He knew better than anyone, Tyr was capable of major feats. But he hadn't expected that it wasn't due to any grand plans Tyr had for Avan City, but rather because the moment he removed them from the scene, he’d already set a grand game in motion. Though just an old man, he planned to resist in any way he could. The soldier regarded the elderly man solemnly. "... We understand your feelings, but we will never do such a thing." Old Bazel chuckled. "Never do it? But Tyr won't play nice, I worry for you. Can you win? Don’t mess this up." The soldier smiled, reassuring him. "Rest assured, as our Exarch says, drawing a line in the sand does not mean weakness; it serves as our shield." Old Bazel raised an eyebrow. "Exarch?" "Yes, indeed. Leading the charge, carrying all our hopes, it's Mr. Pangolin of the Glory Institute." The soldier's voice brimmed with pride at this mention. "Our Exarch insists we won't fight like beasts to defeat beasts, wallowing in the mire and becoming tainted in the process. We'll wield the weapons of civilized men, utilize civilized methods—not only denying them their desires but crushing their spirit completely. This will show our fellow citizens who grovel before authority that a wild dog can never triumph over a person." Old Bazel gazed in awe at the young man, seeing a familiar shadow from the past. It was his grandfather—or rather, the warriors who once stood united beside Marshal Julius. They were strong, brave, loyal, and undefeated... Statues of them adorned all of Triumph City; their presence was seen everywhere. It was an era long past, akin to the golden age of Velanteans. He had envied that era immensely, often lamenting his untimely birth. Yet, here at the twilight of his life, that glorious shadow appeared once again. "...It seems your Exarch truly is a remarkable individual." The young soldier, noticing the old man's genuine admiration, laughed heartily. "Indeed... His stories would take two days and nights to tell." Hearing this, Old Bazel laughed heartily as well. "Haha! I can't let that pass... Once this is all over, I'll buy you a drink, and we can talk at length." A curiosity arose within him about the legends surrounding this Exarch... ... The shadow of the "Death Agent" hung heavily over Velante Province, yet fear did not overwhelm the people living there. All the refugees waited quietly within the quarantine zones. Under the management of Velante Alliance's border forces, they received provisions in an orderly fashion and underwent health check-ups. With the support of the Alliance and academic researchers, the newly risen Velante Alliance held firm against wave upon wave of refugee influx from the Southern Corps, establishing and fortifying twenty quarantine zones amid relentless trials. The process was far from simple. Not only refugees but also corpses washed ashore with the tides. Quarantine survivors faced not only shortages and a lack of resources but also outbreaks of other diseases and plagues stemming from poor sanitation. Moreover, the Velantean Alliance had to confront agents from the Southern Corps. These agents spread panic, incited survivors to breach checkpoints, and physically attempted to break the quarantine barrier. Fortunately, being in the wasteland, much barren terrain lay between the quarantine zones and Triumph City, with limited population movement among scattered settlements. Though several incidents occurred, timely remedies allowed the Velantean Alliance's border forces to successfully contain the virus, preventing the "Death Agent" from reaching Triumph City. The cooperation shown by Velanteans in the quarantine zones was commendable. Their unified resilience, in the face of adversities, even inspired outlanders who had escaped from Batoya Province. Together, they achieved what seemed an impossible feat— Surviving, amid the near lack of preparation, against the Southern Corps' relentless sea assaults launched using civilians, with an average of 50,000 attempts daily. The Southern Corps had become like a mad beast, driven to the brink of madness. Meanwhile, as Triumph City withstood this first assault of the "Death Agent," the crisis began shifting in favor of the Velantean Alliance. With diplomatic efforts by the war environment group, civilian officials, and the guards, awareness spread to the United Federation on the New Continent, the Eastern Empire, and the Northern Empire about the gravity of the situation. Warships of the New Federation pushed toward the Maelstrom Sea. On the other hand, the Eastern and Northern Empires dispatched desperately needed food, medicine, clothes, and tents via railroads running south and north. The disbanded contingent was a sham unity from the start, but the Velanteans never forgot their homeland. They remained as united as ever, perhaps even more so. And so, half a month passed, bringing them to early October. In the past fortnight, the Southern Corps catapulted nearly 800,000 weak, elderly, and infirm northward; 12,707 tested positive for the "Death Agent," not one crossing the border! While the antidote for the "Death Agent" was still in development, symptom-relief inhibitors were already successfully produced. According to the Alliance's Biological Research Institute, obtaining viral research materials from the Southern Corps held the key to speeding up vaccine development. A military operation targeting Avan City was already under discussion within the Alliance Army's General Staff. However, for Yashi, presently in the quarantine zone, external events were less significant; even if he knew them, he likely wouldn't be bothered. Following his modest influence and Jiang Xuezhou's exaggerated stories of his exploits, Velantean Alliance's border forces now regarded him as a virology expert. A cadre of military officers surrounded him daily, seeking wisdom on epidemic prevention work. Completely enjoying this newfound status, Yashi postured proudly, savoring his moment under the spotlight. The logistical official, flipping through his densely written notes filled with "precious experiences," wore a bitter expression, lamenting. "According to your standards, our expenses would be astronomical." Yashi responded, shrugging with amusement. "I'm just here to offer ideas. You guys should approach the Exarch for funding." Under no circumstances would he part with his own money; the Alliance wouldn't see a dime from him. Yet, on matters of life and death, the normally frugal administrators proved generous. The testing kits brought in with Jiang Xuezhou's help were funded by the Biological Research Institute—Triumph City wasn't charged a penny, not even a mention of costs was made. After dispatching the logistical officer, Yashi didn't walk far from the tent before encountering Xuezhou, fresh from her return trip from Aurora City. Having run out of test kits, her research ship made another airlift to Aurora City, procuring a batch and flying back. No doubt, that antigravity aircraft is an incredible tool; they say but for orbital debris, it could even speed directly to the moon. It's a shame to see such a marvel in academic hands. While lost in thought over such imprudent musings, Jiang Xuezhou spotted him and called out from afar. "Hey!" Recognizing her approach intent, Yashi yawned resignedly. "What now?" "What do you mean, 'What now?!' Do I often cause trouble?" Unhappy with his impatient tone, Jiang Xuezhou's brows furrowed momentarily. However, after a heartbeat, they softened. Shifting awkwardly, she hesitated before adopting a nonchalant tone, speaking unexpectedly. "Um... why didn’t you explain?" Yashi paused, bewildered by her seemingly unrelated question. "Explain what? What explanation?" "Last month... when we first arrived," she murmured, looking aside shyly, "Why didn't you explain to Yutong that we weren't... flirting." ...Huh? Yashi stood dumbfounded, like a prairie marmot blinking in the wilderness. After a long pause, he finally sputtered out a reply. "Are you a kid? What’s there to explain?" Besides, that was half a month ago! Jiang Xuezhou likewise realized the abruptness of mentioning this after so long, blushing deeply as she lowered her head. "Yeah, I suppose... no need for explanation, none at all, haha." So awkward... Her face felt like it was burning. Watching the stunned Yashi, she felt her big toe nearly bore a hole through her shoe... ... Triumph City. The Council Hall of the Glory Institute. After adjourning the mobilization meeting, the Battlefield Atmosphere Team dismissed the officials gathered around the conference table. Turning to Regiment Leader Lei Ze, they asked, "You said you'd show the beast my courage. Is my courage satisfactory to you?" The old man, clad in golden armor, smiled faintly, nodding thoughtfully. "Barely acceptable. Compared to Marshal Julius, you still have some growing to do, but you've at least met the bar for me." The battlefield veteran shrugged in mock resignation, but a satisfied smile tugged at his lips. Receiving a "barely acceptable" from a 172-year-old legend indicated he wasn't entirely incompetent. Gazing at the Exarch, Lei Ze pondered for a moment before continuing, "In truth, what pleases me more than your courage is how you used the word 'compatriot' when convincing me." The Battlefield Atmosphere Team was momentarily taken aback, a wry smile crossing their face. Was that all? "I have many friends who are Velanteans; even if I'm not one of them, I can't help but consider their needs." "Even if it means betraying the alliance?" Lei Ze teased, looking at him with amused curiosity. The Battlefield Atmosphere Team shook their head slowly, speaking with calm conviction. "I never considered myself a traitor to the alliance. In fact, I'm here because I'm fulfilling a promise." Lei Ze maintained his focus on them. "A promise?" Nodding, the Battlefield Atmosphere Team's eyes took on a reflective gaze, memories flooding back from the distant past. "When we left the shelter, we swore under the human alliance banner to rebuild our home... that's what we've been doing all along. When we arrive somewhere, we don’t destroy the existing order but seek out future possibilities in cooperation with them." "Haha!" Lei Ze laughed heartily, patting the armrest of the chair he had earlier crushed, quipping in a light-hearted manner, "That sounds like a relief agency." The Battlefield Atmosphere Team acknowledged with a modest smile. "That's exactly what we are—a relief agency. Isn't that what the Blue Ground Squirrels do?" "Hahahaha!" The laugh from the elder grew even heartier, the joy in his eyes deepening. Genuine relief filled him, having finally reached this day. Even though the Battlefield Atmosphere Team couldn't read his emotions outright, on some level, they shared his sentiments. If they ever lived to see a new era and looked back at all the hardships they'd faced, they'd likely understand why this old man laughed with such joyful abandon. Casting an approving gaze at the young Exarch, Lei Ze offered genuine praise. "No matter what, the fact that you see the Velanteans as comrades and not just tools to complete a mission..." "That truly puts me at ease." To be continued.