Chapter 958 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 958: Fulfillment The story doesn’t end with the departure of a group of people. Players who visited this world have already left their mark here and have even seen their legacy continued. Take, for example, the charming Eliza. She lives like everyone’s child within the fairy tales etched in the hearts of every survivor in Boulder Town and the residents of the shelter. That is not something imaginary. As Sparger once said, the miracle of Boulder Town had never been about a fundamentally non-existent figure like Pol, but rather every person who held torches to dispel the darkness when night fell. Yet, it cannot be denied that people weren’t inherently as brave or kind initially, and naturally, not every child could be as fortunate as Eliza. The goodness in people’s hearts can transform the confining walls into fairy-tale castles, while the malice within can easily turn these castles into sinister dungeons. The only solace is that this dungeon, while it can trap those who built it, cannot imprison anyone else. That too is a harsh reality. The builders of this dungeon will eventually rot away in its depths, much like those who sowed the red earth and consumed it will ultimately be buried in its bloody history. This story was written long ago in the wind and snow outside Lowell Camp, and has cycled through again and again. No one is an exception. Those who leave first aren’t necessarily part of the tragedy... ... In Mammoth City, the flames of protest continue to rage, growing even fiercer following Nyan’s death. Lassi had returned to Mammoth City from the frontline with his elite troops and Nyan’s body, but instead of flowers and applause, he was greeted with stones and rotten eggs. A beleaguered officer shouted hysterically at the young people confronting him. “You bunch of ungrateful wretches... What has Lassi ever done to wrong you? Where were you when we were gnawing on black bread and nutrition paste in the front line trenches? Sitting in cafeterias munching on snowy-white noodles and fats as thick as my fist! You talk about overthrowing this and that, have you ever fought a Vilantian? Are you hungrier than us? Today's ingratitude will bring you all retribution tomorrow!” His cries had no impact whatsoever and were soon drowned out by the louder shouts of the crowd. “Don’t divert the conversation! We neither eat like gluttons nor do we consume more than the millions of residents in Mammoth State! We owe your generals nothing; we naturally speak for the people of Mammoth State! Moreover, you’re in no position to call us ungrateful! The wronged souls beneath the Tassan River Dam and those who died in the conflict stand here watching you!” Both sides had their reasoning, representing justice to a certain extent. Because of this, the issue remained virtually unsolvable. Politics is the art of compromise, a realm Lassi's administration was ill-suited for despite this being long overdue. Moreover, time was running out. Their skill set was almost entirely focused on military advancements, surpassing even Peloria in exoskeleton technology, and even managing to repair Conqueror No.10 was within reach. Had they replaced family in resolving issues, it could have led to an outcome satisfactory for most Palorians, including those bodies washed downstream. As it was with Lassi, whether or not they’d blown the dam, today’s predicament was inevitable. Simply put, this wasn’t work for a blacksmith. After dealing with external threats, they’d either need a more adept leader or be replaced by a more capable government. Abusek wasn’t boasting; if it came to a fight, his odds of victory were at least seventy to ninety percent. It wasn't his fault the Federation wasn't united — those were the cards dealt to him, and keeping this clay Buddha from being swept away by the flood was its own skill. As for Abusek’s own issues and limitations, that’s another matter entirely. Amid the crowd, students from Paloria looked on, eating popcorn. The unrest in Mammoth City had little to do with them, hailing from across the border. Even if the sky was burning, it hadn’t reached them yet, right? They spectated from a distance, occasionally egging on both sides. After all, not all those sent to study from Abusek were genuine students; even among the reserved spots, there were some street-smart "hustlers." Some admired technology while showing scorn but inherently looked down upon academics. That’s what Nyan most despised about Duke Garawa, but they were cut from the same cloth. Gairs, licking a popsicle while wearing bell-bottoms, rested a foot on a stone post and smacked his lips. “I think the officer is right— these Mammoth City calves are just spoiled and restless. I never ate this freely in Tian Du! Damn, this popsicle is sweet. I’ve got to take a popsicle machine back to Tian Du.” His father, "Butcher" Piccioli, was a hero in the Defense of Tian Du! Though Gairs was a student himself, he looked down upon those nerds who excelled only in exams. The youth next to him, who’d been grudgingly roped in as company, gave a sidelong glance, silently chuckled, and diverted his gaze back to his physics book. His name was Nayak, only 15 years old, who had overstated his age to clear the undergraduate entry threshold. The rationale for falsifying his age was his own decision; knowing that Sir Kabaha had poor relations within the committee, he deduced that, despite strict examination protocols, they certainly wouldn’t catch age inaccuracies in student records. As for why, the reason lay in the educational reform being Abusek and the union's wishful endeavor, an edifice built in the clouds. Tian Du wouldn’t host major exams again, at least for a long time, simply because they weren’t needed. All things move with inherent laws, but once fortune’s ladder is missed, it's truly missed. How did he come to these conclusions? He owed his insights to Mr. Nyan’s newspaper. Compared to the bombastic nationalistic "Nation Times," "Survivor’s Daily" offered tangible insights. There are geniuses everywhere, Paloria included. Given the vastly larger population, it’s inevitable that a prodigy or two would emerge that other regions couldn't match. Nayak did not, like Gail, arrogantly believe himself to be a prodigy, but he did carry a tinge of confidence in his talent and intelligence. The students sent to study by Paloria were either descendants of former nobles or military leaders. Only he came from generations laboring over red soil, likely the last talented soul coming from Prosperous Era. Anyway, thanks to his illiterate father finding unwanted books at the marketplace, he scored near-perfectly on math and essays, catching the eye of Commissioner Kabaha, leaping forward to reshape his life’s path. For this reason, while Gail looked down on them, Nayak equally scorned this guy who was seen as inferior even to eleven or twelve-year-old preparatory students, forcibly squeezed into university. He understood, though, like the popsicle machine Gail mentioned, these were "resource wastes necessary for social development." Making everything too equal would turn Tian Du into another Mammoth City. Disdainful as he was, Nayak still saw a bright future for this guy. Why was simple: the fellow was naïve enough, sufficiently uneducated, and supremely arrogant — a near embodiment of Silan Wutu! If he hadn’t been born a few decades later, he’d have believed this guy was the reincarnation of the Wutu patriarch himself! Thinking on it, Lassi’s downfall seemed inevitable, as did Abusek’s. It wouldn’t matter if the final civil war happened or not, and it likely wouldn’t. This wasn’t their fault. Winning or losing in a casino follows mathematical laws, having nothing to do with luck or character. Being a new establishment, every gambler is still learning, the playing field equal — first movers have speed, latecomers have stability. Still, history doesn’t stop here; the real drama is just beginning. Nayak calculated that once Zaid and his ilk passed, half the vigor would deplete by the second generation, another half by the third, leaving just a quarter remaining. Unless a larger feudal empire than Paloria came to aid or the union faced internal issues necessitating compromise with incumbents... But that’s unlikely, for the Vilantian labor pains would pass faster than theirs. After the legion explosion, it was quite possible that the emperor named Saren marked the pinnacle of the Eastern Empire. The alliance would make no compromises outside the rules, as doing so would only delay their ultimate victory. They were destined to venture further, albeit taking a different path than academia. Nayak self-proclaimed his collection of "heresies" as the study of civilization. Mammoth University didn’t have a discipline by that name; all of Nayak's theories were derived during his spare time, based on limited data and scientific methods. He used the lifespan of humans as a unit to project the future. The cost of five generations paid in one day would indeed be overwhelming, perhaps even unpayable, but stretching that timespan to 200 or 300 years from a civilizational height made it entirely manageable. Reflecting during times of discontent, consider humanity: a world of flourishing civilizations spanning two stars that almost faced extinction during the Apocalypse Era was rising once more. The newly constructed space elevator is said to be more stable, swifter than the old one, and cheaper to boot—its destruction would not pose the former catastrophic risks. In truth, he wasn't particularly bothered about the rise and fall of dynasties; such musings occupied him only in spare moments. Even before leaving Tian Du, he resolved to become the seed of the future, not a decaying leaf returning to the root. As for proclaiming a desire to venture to the moon, it merely served to convey to his father in terms he’d comprehend. "Hey! Look! They’re about to get into a fight! Do you think Lassi will have them all shot?" Gail, excited as if watching a cricket match, gestured to his bookish companion. Nayak did not look at the street chaos, merely casting a disdainful glance at the overly-excited fool. The officers weren't wrong; these foolish kids were bound to face retribution, even though it had nothing to do with being ungrateful—more a matter of insufficient skill. Nonetheless, finding amusement in others’ misery was far from noble, and likely, karma would find its way to them sooner. Yet he found no need to teach this fellow about accumulating virtue. Instead, after a moment’s thought, he remarked. "Do you believe in science?" This seemingly out-of-place question left Gail a bit deflated by the nerd’s antics. Without any friends to pass time with, Gail just shrugged. "Yeah, technology is amazing. It’d be great to bring some back. Oh, work hard, eh? With your book smarts, read much more. We could use that." Nayak smiled softly. "I knew I wasn't mistaken. The unfinished business of our fathers needs young talents like you to carry onward." "Hehe, naturally. My old man knows war, but when it comes to reading, he can’t match me." Seeing his response as mere flattery, Gail felt a touch smug, momentarily choosing to overlook the fact that Nayak’s father, whom he usually disdains as a peasant, was a top scholar from the Tian Du exam! Despite his earlier derogatory remarks about exams, when acknowledged by an intellectual, Gail's demeanor inevitably mirrored his father's prideful grin. Eager to boast, Gail raised an eyebrow towards Nayak. "Let me tell you a not-so-secret secret: my father’s with the family association! Even if Abusak crumbles, or if my dad’s boss falls, it’s no issue! I'd say, forget the alliance later, start mingling with me. Spot any girl you fancy? One word from me, and she’s yours." For him, it was a simple feat. With Gopal soon arriving in the city, and her family in Tian Du, ensuring someone faced hunger was merely a matter of a letter. The suggestion wasn’t entirely his own—it was his female classmates’ idea, seeking his influence. Sure enough, Nayak chuckled softly, his tone amiable. "Your kindness is appreciated, though don't celebrate too soon. Even if your father lets Gopal into Tian Du, at best it's a chance to choose sides again. There will still be two or three more disasters to face... Although, those can be avoided." Gail frowned. "What do you mean?" Nayak simply carried on, leisurely, "It means nothing. It just reminds me of an old saying in the alliance: 'He who understands the times is a great man,' and... 'When heaven bestows a great task on someone, it must first starve his body.' Basically, if you want success, sometimes you first must embrace madness." "For this, I recommend two books from the alliance: 'Thick Black Theory' and 'Water Margin.' They'll serve you better than those books from your father, and they’re more interesting. Dive into them when you're unsure, can’t figure out why, or feel vexed; perhaps they’ll inspire you." For a start, those two books should suffice, and depending on the future, "The Romance of Three Kingdoms" might be added. However, personality should be shaped before cultivating a broader outlook; getting this sequence wrong would reduce his potential to debris. Unworthy individuals have no chance on stage; he needed someone who could stand center stage. Based on alliance psychology concepts, a person’s character forms in childhood, reshaping in adulthood according to societal shapes, and if unchecked, suppressed nature springs forth like a released coil. He aimed to mold this fellow's character, rising to potentially become another Wutu or even a more distorted version, terrifying all the seemingly benign small mice around... potentially the only way to save the Palorians. Unresolved grudges of the previous generation should, indeed, conclude with theirs. Zaid? He was smart, but no matter how clever, a day would come when he couldn’t wield a blade. After winning everything, he’d inevitably descend into madness akin to Lowell, ensuring that no one threatening his authority survived. Including Sava—two years his senior, appearing more harmless than this "nerd," always following closely behind. An "adopted" son seated as Crown Prince should well understand that Zaid could never tolerate a legitimate heir; he should feign softness when needed and certainly wouldn’t hesitate when action was required. Even Gopal, personally placed on a pedestal by Zaid, might find herself ousted first. Nayak wasn’t in a rush. He enjoyed reading the newspaper and, being young, he'd eventually see what he desired appear in the headlines. Meanwhile, next to him, Gail grew impatient, grumbling. "Can't you just read to me what’s in those books? I really hate reading." Nayak sighed. The journey ahead was truly arduous... Should this fellow return to Tian Du, his spoiled nature might not endure beyond three episodes. What good is a promising "seed" if it doesn’t sprout? Even the resilient red soil needed to outlast the early harsh years of the Apocalypse Era to start wreaking havoc. At least, he mused, this promising reed shouldn’t precede Zaid, lest additional generations be wasted. "You... my dear brother, your carefree nature deeply worries me. You’re General Picqioli's only vulnerability. Without some sense, how can your father toughen up?" "...Alright, since you agreed to look after my father, I’ll teach you about 'esoteric studies' not covered in class." Pausing, Nayak donned a serious demeanor, setting aside his physics book to face Gail. "One problem—I'll only teach you once, so remember it well, it might save your life at a critical moment." Gail perked up, grinning impishly. "Go on, then." He doubted this bookworm would teach him anything valuable, yet found the prospect intriguing, even more so than flirting with a classmate under the desk. Why not listen? It occupied the idle time anyway. While math and physics lectures bored him endlessly, those strange nuggets of knowledge always piqued interest, bringing a curious light to his eyes. Nayak fixed him with a deep gaze, breaking into the counterattack befitting a farmer's son. It would become the Bororians’ protracted century-long conflict. When dawn’s light finally breaks, perhaps no one will remember this moment— A future soldier and a future scientist embarking on a clandestine game of fate. He would gamble tomorrow on today, preparing all he could, ensuring that a toxin more malevolent than "Death’s Elixir" was planted in this simpleton, living to the end as a carefully sown seed! As long as one seed survives, the war would be a victory for everyone in this land! And then, the heroes’ sacrifices would not be in vain! "I have four great generals: Jia, Yi, Bing, and Ding. I want them to watch over a flock of sheep for me, yet I remain wary of them, because the sheep are clever, and they are clever too." "I know that eventually, I will have to kill them all, but the question now is, who to start with..." ... The farce dragged on into the night, with Lassi ultimately unable to bring himself to fire upon his own people. Firstly, it was because they were the legacy of Mr. Nyan's hard work, and secondly, even a tiger doesn't eat its own cubs. Having no children of his own, these thriving pillars felt like his own offspring. Had they been Vilantians or remnants of the old empire, he wouldn’t have hesitated, not a brow would furrow. But to turn the blade on his own? He simply couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d met a situation where he couldn’t wield the knife. And yet, precisely because of this, his vulnerability became starkly apparent to his adversaries. Those lurking in the shadows, the despicable creatures like hyenas smelling blood, lunged forward, eager to suck him dry to the bone. "Open assaults are easy to dodge, but hidden arrows are hard to guard against..." In the state mansion’s courtyard. Seated in a chair, Lassi sighed, feeling akin to the Overlord of Chu, riddled with spears. Abusak loved the Three Kingdoms, while he preferred the stories preceding that era. Both were adept in alliance affairs and often exchanged ideas privately. Staring at the moss-covered old cobblestones, he suddenly recalled his days of greatest triumph. On that day, as he entered the city, amidst the collapsed shanties, the emaciated residents didn’t curse him; instead, they lined the streets to welcome the savior who’d finally come. Standing right here, he gazed down at the trembling nobles, prone before him. "I am here for three things! You need only know one!" "From now on, slavery is banned in Mammoth State! Anyone harboring a slave will have their head moved to a different place!" "... Starting today, Mammoth State speaks for equality!" His words echoed, terrifying the once-pompous nobles to shivers and panic, scattering like rats. The shanties had since been replaced by new buildings, and though he believed he hadn’t shortchanged the people here, he still ended up being pelted with rotten eggs, humiliated. Looking back, perhaps those on the streets weren’t the Mammoth City dwellers he knew. They were the drowned souls of the Tassan River, come to claim their due. "Arayan, are you there too?" Lassi chuckled self-deprecatingly, taking a swig of sharp vodka, as if washing away some of the bitterness in his heart. At this moment, a young officer entered, standing tall to salute. "Report, sir! Captain Sava has returned from the Great Rift! According to the telegram, he has brought a peace agreement negotiated with Abusak, the leader of the Paloria Federation!" The officer, named Udi, was part of the assault team, having been by Lassi’s side since his arrival in Mammoth State, serving reliably as a key subordinate. Setting the bottle aside, Lassi stood. "Prepare the car, to the airport." "Yes, sir!" Udi saluted again and exited swiftly, soon readying the vehicle. Lassi opened the car door and got in, the vehicle started promptly, heading to the airport. The streets en route were eerily quiet, with only the occasional patrolmen marching in formation. Mammoth City was under a strict curfew. In the car, Lassi turned to Udi. "How goes the investigation into the family association?" Upon hearing, Udi immediately reported. "They have 21 outposts in our city, primarily around the port area." Lassi’s pupils contracted slightly. "How could there be so many?" Udi explained honestly. "Their operations are tightly coordinated, expanding from the port core into Mammoth University, sparing no means for their ends. From what I understand, they’re connected not only to various gangs but also sponsor student group activities and distribute eggs to households in need." Lassi was momentarily dumbstruck, his mouth opening in speechlessness. Really...? This? They lived in the homes he built, taking eggs from others, then turned against him. Enraged, he felt suddenly sobered, the act repulsing him more than if they’d cuckolded him. But he was no longer the rash brute he once was. Taking a deep breath, he calmed down. He remembered Ashin, who had seen him off and sponsored him selflessly for many years. He didn’t think much of those gang dealings, once even warning Ashin against expanding business into Mammoth City, despite having just accepted sponsorship from the Assassins. And Ashin, understanding, hadn’t offended him, simply doing what he could manage. Yet Lassi hadn’t expected that, Assassins or not, there would always be the Black Rat Gang or Rat Gang, even under a different name like XX Labor Dispatch Ltd. If he thrived on labor dispatch and foreign exchange earnings, how could others not mimic success? Someone would soon organize the men under his command similarly, or serve these laborers through institutions like an Overseas Labor Aid Society. And those people had templates to follow. The Workers’ Guild of the Alliance had long sought to breakthrough Mammoth City but couldn't due to not adapting seamlessly to local styles. Those gangs could mimic the model, swallowing the grapes and spitting out the gritty skins. In hindsight, perhaps he should have let Ashin come... Lassi, closing his eyes, sighed deeply. "We’ve entirely lost control at the grassroots level... No wonder such issues have arisen." With that said, he pulled out a notebook from his pocket, jotting this lesson down before tucking it back away. Just then, a sudden explosion outside the car window rang out, whether homemade bombs or otherwise, causing the glass to tremble. Soon, Lassi heard someone shouting their way. "Revenge for the fallen..." The voice called out the names of those injured or killed in clashes, but Lassi couldn’t catch them clearly. Yet at that moment, the engine began to smoke, leading the car to crash into the roadside. The driver, dazed from the impact, turned to check on the commander, only to face the barrel of a gun. He momentarily froze, fear morphing his expression as he stammered an explanation. "It’s not me—" "Bang!" A short, sharp gunshot cut off his protest. With resolved decisiveness, Udi dispatched the driver, promptly evacuating Lassi from the vehicle. Street gunfire ensued, as armed forces with white arm bands fiercely clashed with the nearby patrol. Although supported by exoskeletons, the latter drove the former back in strides, yet couldn’t corral the masses, who melted into civilian homes when pressed. Lassi was thunderstruck they dared to attempt an assassination on his own turf, appalled further at needing to fight a security crisis within his own domain, a fury building to the crown of his head, yearning to rush forth and decimate those vermin. "This is rebellion... outright rebellion!" "Commander! It's unsafe here! Reinforcements have been called, lets' move to a safer spot!" Udi shouted as he fired across the street. Lassi clenched his teeth and nodded. "Lead the way." Udi swiftly complied, shielding him into a nearby alleyway. A few quick turns, and they seemed distant from the chaos. Appearing safe. Yet Lassi abruptly halted. Udi stopped too, bewildered, glancing back at the commander. "What’s wrong?" "Hahahaha!" Lassi suddenly burst into laughter. "Perfect! Just as expected! Now this is a true bodyguard for me, exactly my kind of people!" With that, he widened his eyes like bronze bells, staring down the dark alley like a burning torch. "You mice! Your master Lassi is right here! Come out if you’ve got the guts, and let’s have a proper showdown!" His majestic aura stood not like a general, nor a commander, but a hero full of mettle. He appeared as a slayer in that alley, devoid of legions, yet resounding thunder echoed in spirit, preventing others from daring to meet his gaze. Udi, still astounded, showed emotion shifting from surprise to astonishment, then resignation. "...How did you notice?" As he spoke, men donned in black, carrying weapons, emerged from the shadows of the alley. Creeping cunningly like rats lurking in sewers. The Vilantians had departed. Spring had finally arrived. It was the season of revival. Their eyes gleamed with a vicious light. Though they were afraid, even trembling, not one of them backed down. The family association had assured them: kill Lassi, and the overseas business of Mammoth Nation would be theirs. Whenever the family association had meat, these gang members would have their share of blood. "What’s the use of saying so much? You were the ones who incited those students, right?" Lassi, not reaching for a gun, instead drew his sword, smiling coldly at Udi, who had betrayed him. "What's the matter? Still not moving? Want to see if I can still handle a blade?" "In gratitude for past kindness, I wanted to give you a quick end, but since you don't seem to want it..." Udi stepped back, holstered his gun, and gestured forward with his finger. "Finish him." Father, Mother... Your child has finally avenged you. Having avenged his deep grievances, Udi felt a lightness, yet couldn’t bear to witness the fading of a hero, so he closed his eyes. The gang members, dropping their pistols, rushed at Lassi with an assortment of weapons, hell-bent on attacking the man who had repeatedly broken Olette's nose on the battlefield. "Kill!!!" "Ahhhh!" Their fervor drove them to charge, eager to butcher their hero, but the rush of white light brought them back as a familiar head tumbled to the ground. A head with yellow teeth lay there, its final grimace frozen on its severed face. The gang members at the forefront were stunned, the bright moonlight revealing the scarlet blood dripping from the military blade in Lassi’s hand. "Kill—!" The solitary battle cry reverberated through the alley, this time resonating like a charge horn! As if legions followed behind him, as if countless spirits hung from the blade’s tip! Udi’s pupils narrowed slightly as he watched Lassi, fearless and advancing toward the crowd. His shaking right hand instinctively reached for the gun in its holster. His family contacts constantly reminded him that the man was the executioner of his family, never to forget the revenge, that vengeance must be exacted one day! He momentarily forgot that even though he was an enemy, surpassing him wouldn’t be an easy feat. Lassi was his formidable general, a figure even their enemies deeply respected. He had a mission; Lassi had his own! Moreover, unlike himself, consumed solely by hatred— That man had resolved long ago, willing to risk his life to bring down every pillar oppressing the Palorians. In the blood-stained alley, the breathtaking melee continued— "Kill!!!" To be continued...