Chapter 943 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 943: Until We Meet Again As the "Albatross" liner docked at the pier of Manto Harbor, the 3,000 survivors who had been adrift at sea for over half a month finally reached their new homeland. With the arrival of these new immigrants, the population of Manto Harbor officially exceeded 30,000. And this was merely the beginning. For a significant period to come, passenger ships departing from the Maelstrom Sea would continuously cross this strait, bringing survivors from the Province of Batoia here or to the Province of Haiya to the northeast of the Baizhuo Strait, delivering millions of immigrants. Among them were not just the old, weak, and women, but also skilled engineers, scientists, and artists. If the New World, predominantly inhabited by the Wielant people, was their primary refuge, the rising Alliance became their second-best option after the New World. Though they lacked the privileges of being the dominant ethnic group there, the hardships they endured allowed them to appreciate a newfound sense of equality. Thus, as the quarantine zone in the Province of Wielant reached its population capacity, it started redirecting surplus to other regions across the wasteland, aided by former legion forces and coalition members. No matter how many refugees headed south to the Province of Wielant, even if the numbers doubled, Kaixuan City could easily handle it, and might even aid Tyr in transporting the population. Amidst meticulous calculations, Tyr seemed to overlook this point. This clever loophole marked the beginning of his entire defeat. He intended to use Marshal Julius's funeral as a lever to shake the entire world, rallying all of the Wielant people to charge with him, but he forgot that his enemies weren't just the Kaixuan City he was attempting to overthrow, but the world he planned to subvert. No one is foolish enough to stand there waiting for him to overthrow them one by one. Thus, after sending the first batch of immigrants to Manto Harbor, Tyr's "clever strategy" also delivered the families of these prisoners of war to the Alliance. Those joyously reuniting with their parents included not only Pari but countless others. The square in front of the harbor was filled with cries of joy and tears of happiness as people embraced and shared their stories of what had occurred. The cheerful sounds attracted many local residents nearby, including islanders from the South Sea Alliance, survivors from the Province of Haiya, and those from the Province of Poluo. Witnessing such an emotional scene, smiles of understanding and empathy appeared on nearly everyone's faces. Even the Poluo people, who harbored animosity towards the Wielant people, couldn't help but slightly alter their prejudices. They were human too. The true enemies of all the surviving victims were the fiends that turned people into beasts! Ding Ning had not anticipated the immense surprise he had delivered to Pari. He had merely thought there might be some of the young man's fellow townspeople onboard who could share news about Avantec City with Pari. Hence, he persuaded him to come. However, to his amazement, the young man’s parents were onboard the vessel. It was akin to a miracle! Though, in truth, it wasn't entirely coincidental—there was an intentional component to it. Or more accurately, it stemmed from the humanitarian concern passed down by the inhabitants of Shelter 404. Far off in Dawn City, Yaya suddenly thought that those residents might have relatives among the troops previously stationed at Manto Harbor, and mentioned it on the forum. Soon after, Night Ten, who was stationed on the front lines of the Province of Wielant and had some free time, searched the quarantine zone’s archive and discovered that many registered refugees were indeed relatives of the 100th Legion of the Southern Corps. Back when the 100th Legion was formed, the Corps hadn’t yet disbanded, and the soldiers' records were shared. Upon learning about the situation, the esteemed governor, Mr. Pangolin, generously waved his hand and, with the immigrants’ consent, prioritized their placement on the ship heading towards the Baizhuo Strait. This small episode allowed countless families to reunite in distant lands. At the edge of the square, Lao Bai, with arms crossed, glanced at Fang Chang and teased. "At this rate, our Wielant Expeditionary Forces could mobilize several more divisions." The Burning Legion's deployment area had moved from the Poluo Province battlefront to the Eternal Night Harbor front line, but there were still a few days before they gathered, so the two made a detour to Fry Port after delivering their troops to the front line and then came here. Looking at the former prisoners in the square, Fang Chang smiled faintly and said, "Our forces are sufficient; there's no need to mobilize further. Besides, there are places where they can better demonstrate their talents than at the front lines." The war was nearing its end. Destroyed areas required rebuilding; displaced survivors needed new homes. One Manto Harbor would not suffice. Haiya Province had ten settlements; at least twenty could be established in the Baizhuo Strait! He recalled painting a massive picture for the shareholders of Baizhuo Company long ago—a tempting menu sprawled across the Alliance’s map that made mouths water. Presently, the chance of turning this grand vision into reality seemed quite promising! At least compared to the deceptive promises made by dog planners, his grand vision remained relatively conservative! ... While the captives of the 100th Legion were reuniting with their families, in the distant northwest of the Province of Poluo, explosions and gunfire continuously echoed. Faced with wave after wave of charges through the jungle by Poluo forces wielding automatic rifles, even the elite Extermination squads could not help but show fear, retreating in the overwhelming assault. The Southern Corps required cloning vats to produce its cannon fodder, yet the soldiers of the Province of Poluo seemed to spring forth from the ground, unending despite the relentless slaughter. Even more troubling was what lay ahead— This band of soldiers seemed to grow younger and stronger with each battle! With the fall of Eternal Night Harbor, the supply lines for the Southern Corps' Poluo Province battlefront had been entirely severed. In contrast, the nations of Poluo and the Mammoth, with the Alliance's assistance, completed comprehensive rearming, officially launched their counteroffensive once they recuperated. This protracted battle entered a third phase — shifting from strategic stalemate back to strategic stronghold offensives and defenses. But this time, it wasn't the Mammoth Kingdom and Poluo Kingdom struggling for survival, but the Southern Corps, now teetering on the brink. Incidentally, even Shahrukh, known for his cunning, was no longer holding back, and General Grove, who had been subtly criticized in recent times, regained support from Gopal and the Family Council. Five hundred thousand strong troops stormed forth, ferociously attacking the Southern Corps' weakest defense points, disgracefully defeating less than a hundred thousand Southern soldiers, many of whom were mere auxiliary troops, and seizing half of Wolf State! Finally, General Grove achieved a long-sought victory and fought a prosperous battle. Both Zaid and Gopal ceased limiting him, allowing him to fully employ his military talents. Their sole requirement was— Not to meddle with West Sail Harbor for now. According to intelligence gathered by their overseas informants, the Eastern Empire intended to take over the West Sail Harbor legacy. That was the essence conserved by the bureaucratic group in Kaixuan City and the Southern Corps. The Family Council's leaders were keenly aware of what they could touch and what they couldn't—or more precisely, what they couldn't handle with their current capabilities. Yet, this matter was open for negotiation. For instance, if the Eastern Empire feasted, they could at least sip some soup, rather than letting Abasek and Laxi reap the benefits. Though the internal forces within Poluo had their own schemes, the grand momentum for a comprehensive counteroffensive had undeniably formed. The toughest foundation was laid, and even part of the structure on it erected. Now, the top of the skyscraper merely awaited completion. Whether led by a wolf or a moon return, against all odds, Poluo Province would not fail. At least for now, the Province of Poluo indeed abounds with formidable commanders and powerful, plentiful troops. And most crucially, they forged their backbone amidst flames! In the central northern provinces, at the Poluo Northern Field Army's foremost line of control. Standing at the edge of a trench, marginally slacking, gazing west through binoculars, eyes traversing the jagged mountains and endless emerald pines northward. If one ignored the anti-aircraft machine guns hidden in the forest and the hollowed-out bunkers and tunnels, it would indeed be considered a picturesque land of mountains and waters. There were mountains, water, and vast plains—and no mutant threats... Was red earth really needed here? The thought involuntarily crossed his mind, sowing a seed of confusion within. However, having never experienced the fearsome winter of a century and a half ago, he couldn't truly judge General Lowell's legacy from the perspective of the local survivors. Imagining how the Province of Poluo might have been without General Lowell was mere speculation. From a third-party standpoint, he couldn't agree with some of the Poluo people's complaints—that the Human Federation abandoned them and the billions of survivors fleeing from the heart of the Old World. At least from his point of view, having visited many places, compared to the River Valley Province and other regions, the entire Province of Poluo was nothing short of a remaining paradise on earth, a vast sanctuary spanning 4 million square kilometers! As a pre-war ecological reserve, this area boasted flourishing wildlife, even preserving mammoths from the Ice Age, which hadn't been driven to extinction. The Province of Luoxia retained five oases, while Poluo had an expanse covering 4 million square kilometers. If they could be considered abandoned survivors, then what about those living outside the shelters at the same time? Perhaps it was the impending departure from this place that caused him to daydream a bit longer than usual, until a soft cough behind him brought him back to reality. "...The Wielant people have connected those mountains ahead with bunkers and tunnels. A frontal assault would likely lead to numerous casualties." As he spoke, Edge Walker lowered the binoculars and handed them to Isher, who was standing behind him, pausing to continue, "They've been preparing on the other side for at least half a year. I suggest you proceed cautiously." Isher nodded seriously, "I will consider it carefully." Edge Walker nodded approvingly, sensing that the message had been heard. Nowadays, Isher was the commander of the Northern Field Army, commanding more than just the 30th and 110th Regiments, but a full ten field artillery divisions! The title of "Jungle Rat" given by the Southern Corps was a testament to how much trouble he had caused them. Honestly, Edge Walker felt there wasn't much more he could teach Isher. In fact, he sometimes needed Isher's advice. After all, the thinking between player troops and NPC troops was different, and on matters relating to the latter, NPC officers had more authority than players loaded with resurrection tokens. Thinking of this, Edge Walker couldn’t help but tease, "Maybe think a bit more cautiously. I heard your bounty has gone from 5 million dinars to 20 million." "Tch, I've never seen that much money in my life," Isher grinned, scratching the back of his head, joking, "Maybe I should cut a deal with those big noses and sell myself." Edge Walker retorted with a laugh, "Hahaha, you don’t have any kids; are you saving up to spend in the afterlife?" Isher laughed, "You’re right. I almost forgot. I’ve decided! Once the war is over, I'm getting myself a wife." Edge Walker joked back, "You better choose wisely. You're no longer just a guy with nothing but a life to offer; the Wielant people put a 20 million price on your head. I bet the folks at Tiandu would bid even higher." Isher laughed and said, "If that's the case, I need to find an educated one, so my kids don’t end up like me." "Come on, if what you are is unaccomplished, who could be considered accomplished?" Edge Walker jokingly chided before continuing, "Education isn't that precious. Anyone who wants to learn can learn. After the war, you can study too. When choosing a partner, character is what truly counts, not someone in a uniform that makes you weak in the knees." These Poluo folks were fascinated by schoolgirls. Uniform fetish, perhaps? Then again, it's understandable; apart from the military, schools were the only places with uniforms in Poluo. Weird prejudices seemed to be increasing... With that bit of banter concluded, Edge Walker shifted to a serious demeanor. "We're leaving tomorrow. The paths ahead you must walk on your own… take care." Even though he knew in advance about the Alliance's plans, Isher's face still held a hint of bitterness. "Even you're transferring out." The Skeleton Army had already been moved to Eternal Night Harbor, including the Goblin Army and the Burning Army stationed in Tiandu. Once the Death Corps was redeployed, the Province of Poluo's battlefront would be fully handed over to the Poluo people. He had foreseen this day long ago, yet he couldn’t shake off the sadness. "Yes, we can't stay here forever. There are still 2.7 million square kilometers of colonies northwest of Eternal Night Harbor waiting for us to liberate… including the 910,000 square kilometers of the Province of Batoia, where survivors suffer as well." Seeing the reluctance on Isher's face, Edge Walker suddenly lightened the mood with a smile, tapping his shoulder. "Stop acting like it’s the end; we’re just going to fight for the next victory. You’ve done great so far; you’ll do just fine without us, no need for all this sentimentality." "Hard to say," Isher shook his head, "The Confederation never truly united. Flags and banners dominate the landscape, forming alliances today against the Southern Corps only to turn against each other tomorrow over the Northern Three States." The telegrams from Abasek had already laid the groundwork, urging him to watch the movements of the Lassi forces, not to cede positions unless necessary, and keep acquired equipment and personnel locally if possible, or send them south. Isher could instantly grasp Abasek's intentions but couldn’t argue that such forethought was wrong. After all, Abasek wasn’t the only one preparing for civil war; Lassi was doing the same. Once it was clear the Southern Corps was failing, several divisions of the Mammoth Kingdom stationed on the front started acting strangely, withholding intelligence exchanges with them as before. That was, after all, three territories plus the carefully maintained Lion State. Lassi not being interested—that would be the surprise! Edge Walker understood his concerns but had no better solution. He was just a battalion commander. And he felt even if the Overseer were standing here, they might not have any more say in local affairs than he did. Unless they were to treat it like the Southern Corps, turning it into a colony and using new grievances to cover up old ones. But then, they would cease to be the Alliance. And those survivors who supported them against the Corps might not continue to do so. "We hope you can resolve your issues peacefully, or at least not trigger any larger crises." At that moment, an idea suddenly sprouted in his mind. He offered an olive branch to his comrade before him. "Have you considered going to the Alliance?" This guy was a real talent. His admiration for Isher's abilities prompted the proposal. Facing Edge Walker’s invitation, Isher remained silent for a while, then sighed. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted, but I'd also be lying if I said I wanted to go... I wouldn't call myself a hero, but I'm somewhat sought after. I'm pretty sure the schoolgirls in Tiandu are lined up at the city gates waiting for me. If I don’t go back, what kind of man am I? There are decades of good living ahead." After pausing, he joked, "And what if it's not as chaotic as it seems? What if this Jungle Rat manages to stabilize things? The ability to stabilize might be in doubt, but if I ran off without trying, those schoolgirls in Tiandu would line up to curse me." His tone was part banter, but with a tinge of earnestness. Edge Walker didn't know whether to laugh at his lack of refinement or admire his courage. But Isher himself had a clear perspective. Long ago, he had figured out that he wasn't destined to be the "Awakened Bor." The Poluo people never endured an era of extreme exploitation by money and power, so how could they awaken from a nightmare they never had? Their history was missing a page, and he was that missing page. He would become the opening chapter of Stone City, raising a torch to dispel darkness as a pioneer. His children, or his children's children, might become the antagonist "Lord Stephen" from "The Awakened Bor." Perhaps he should accept the olive branch from the Vault Dweller, the choice of "retiring gracefully, hidden with neither fame nor fortune" as a wise man's path. Yet everyone has limitations, him included. The belief in becoming Bor is what sustained him, cutting a path through all adversity to arrive where he stood today. How could he possibly give that up so easily? Perhaps things could be different? After all, in an interview with the "Survivor Daily," Sperg himself mentioned that the epic of Stone City was a miracle of its people; other settlements' survivors would create their own miracles, and miracles couldn't be simply replicated. He would try to learn from Stone City's lessons and add a couple more rules to his family's creed. Under his influence, maybe his children would embark on entirely different paths. For example, becoming Elisa, "the Gravedigger of the Inner City." An idealist, seemingly self-destructive in her reforms, she's indispensable for a glorious revolution. If West Sail Harbor had birthed such a great figure, there’d be no room for the likes of Janusz and Abasek to rise as kings. Of course, this was merely Isher's personal opinion; different people had different interpretations of Stone City's transformation. But he believed he had the power to change his fellow countrymen's future. Seeing that Isher's mind was made up, Edge Walker didn’t press further, merely patting his shoulder. "The Southern Corps is doomed, but don't let that make you complacent. Lion State has factories, railways, and an endless supply of labor. While they can't produce guided missiles, they can easily manufacture guns and ammunition. Their dependence on technology was never that high. Plus, the remaining people there are mentally unstable. Confronting them head-on isn’t wise; psychological tactics would be more effective." Isher nodded earnestly. "I'll remember that… you take care too." Edge Walker nodded, withdrawing his hand from Isher's shoulder and folding it across his chest in a gesture of farewell. "Until we meet again!" Imitating his gesture, Isher smiled heartily and said, "Until we meet again! Next time you're in Tiandu, drinks are on me!" Edge Walker grinned, "I'll hold you to that!" Leaving his gear and a farewell in the trench, he gathered the last few remaining players from the Death Corps and headed towards the helipad. The "Viper" aircraft awaited them there. They would board the VTOL "Viper" to Tiandu, then transfer to a "Tyrant" transport plane heading south across the Great Desert—to the Old Southern Industrial Zone, a remnant of the Human Confederation era. The Southern Corps owned a 2.7 million square kilometer colony there. They would rendezvous with their comrades from other divisions at the frontlines at Eternal Night Harbor, then march north, striking directly through the ruins of the Old Western Industrial Zone, penetrating into the southern Province of Batoia—the homeland of the Southern Corps! Edge Walker felt the blood within him begin to boil, like ignited gasoline. Listening to the roar of the plasma jets outside the cabin, he excitedly clenched his fists until they cracked. "…Finally, a chance to go all out!" To be continued.