Chapter 965 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 965: The Madness of a Dead End On the northern beaches of the Bartoya Province, soldiers from the Wilant Province arrived at a makeshift pier built by the 117,000-man Brigade, using commandeered fishing boats. A man in a military uniform held a pair of binoculars in his hand, squinting as he surveyed the surroundings. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice pushing out from his throat with difficulty. "…Is this the Bartoya Province?" His name was Newman, the commander of the 100,000-man Brigade from the Wilant Alliance. Serving in Triumph City now, he had, many years ago, been a training instructor on the northern beaches of Bartoya Province. He remembered a small town called Rhino's Horn from his past here, so named because the beach resembled a rhinoceros head and he used to rent small boats there with friends for sea fishing when off duty. Now, the village was gone, and even the concentration camp that stood for a while had been dismantled. The once beautiful beach was littered with blown-apart concrete bunkers, craters, and sandbag fortifications. Everything had changed. And it had turned into hell. The commander of the 110,000-man Brigade also disembarked from the ship, lighting a cigarette and taking in the sight of the now-altered land with narrowed eyes. "Quite a transformation, isn't it? It's as though we've returned to the end of the war two hundred years ago. On the bright side, Tier had less high-tech and we didn’t end up like this." Newman’s Adam’s apple moved as he nodded slowly. “Yeah.” He still couldn’t understand why Tier incited such a foolish war, but suddenly he saw why the Academy had hidden away pre-war technology… ... Tens of thousands of troops streamed through the breach in the northern part of Bartoya Province opened by the 117,000-man Brigade. Seeing the troops from Triumph City, the surviving locals rushed forward with relief and joy, tears in their eyes. They would have loved to offer them food and drink, but alas, there was little nutrition paste left in their homes, and they possibly harbored the virus strain of "Death Agent." Borofika of the 117,000-man Brigade ordered soldiers to distribute food to these survivors before handing them over to the units in charge of setting up quarantine zones. Not only did they have to deal with Tier, but they had to clean up the mess he left behind. Thick black smoke dotted the southern part of Avont City, with steel airships hovering low, firing at the ground and sky; their attacks accompanied by the whoosh of rockets. Under the alliance's intense assault, even the steel airships struggled to keep up. Due to a shortage of close-defense munitions, one airship’s firepower net was breached by a guided missile, striking the gun compartment underneath. A burst of brilliant fireworks erupted, and rolling smoke swallowed half of the airship. Though the airship commander quickly jettisoned the explosion-prone compartment, the vessel's structural components suffered severe damage, and it plummeted into the ruins below under the despairing eyes of soldiers. The deflection shields provided only limited protection against guided missiles, merely offering some resistance. The airships mainly countered missile attacks using fixed machine guns and 20-mm anti-aircraft cannons, attempting to shoot them down while the missiles were preoccupied with the deflection shields. It sounded reckless, but was effective. However, during prolonged confrontations with legion forces, the alliance devised a solution. They replaced the missile casings with armor steel. As long as the guidance head and propulsion system could endure a burst from a 20-mm barrage, it was sufficient. The outcome was left to fate and volume. With the first steel airship downed, air superiority began to tip towards the alliance. The local defense forces’ 200,000-man Brigade launched a counterattack on the Death Legion's positions. Still, it lasted less than an hour before the armored units of the Skeleton Legion penetrated the local defense forces’, forcing them to halt. The re-supplied Death Legion advanced once more, teaming with the armored units of the Skeleton Legion to capture the seized positions, simultaneously searching for hidden enemies behind fortifications. Although the Southern Legion's commander Baldwin continued leading his troops in heroic resistance, anyone could see their inevitable fate. The outcome was already clear. Only the exact day in February remained undecided. Objectively, Tier committed some acts of humanity, though not many. For instance, he "evacuated" the civilians of Bartoya Province before the final battle, significantly reducing potential civilian casualties during urban warfare. Though this was merely an outcome, not his intention. Tier clearly intended to drag survivors from one quagmire into another deeper one. His plans were malicious, but the execution resulted in an unintended positive. On the other hand, Wilant soldiers expressed little interest in blending with Wilant civilians. Some deserters shed their uniforms completely—not even secretly keeping weapons, unlike what families had done in Serpent State and Mammoth State. This reduced civilian casualties by 80%. Yet despite all this, the war left Avont City’s residents deeply scarred. But, in comparison to a neutron stream descending from the sky, it was far more merciful… ... On the 68th floor of the "Tower of the World." Tier stood before an alloy wall, his face void of emotion as he watched the holographic display in front of him. The flames of war drew ever nearer beneath his feet, while his loyal soldiers were either systematically annihilated or surrendered en masse, rendering the "Holistic Lifeform" technology’s promise of power seemingly fraudulent. A profound sense of helplessness overwhelmed Tier, coupled with anger and frustration. For the first time, possessing supreme power, he tasted the bitterness of the steering wheel slipping from his control. Just then, hurried footsteps echoed behind him, and General Staff Officer Augus, looking haggard, halted in his tracks, offering a salute as he briskly reported. "Honorable Commander... Triumph City has declared war on us. The 117,000-man Brigade defected, landing on the northern beaches of Bartoya Province, and the 100,000-man Brigade, our puppet troop, has been decimated. According to frontline reports, we've lost contact with at least four brigades; they might have already surrendered to Triumph City's forces..." Augus used the most diplomatic language possible. Yet, no gentle expression could alter the dire situation confronting the Southern Legion. An empty lamp is insufficient to describe it. Perhaps the term "besieged" was more fitting… Tier clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking, before slowly releasing them. Taking a deep breath, Tier spoke somberly, his back still facing Augus. "I understand." Augus waited silently for Tier to issue new orders, but after a long pause, no further instructions came. A faint anxiety crept across the General Staff Officer’s face, and he inadvertently adopted a prompting tone. "Commander… the local defense forces are barely holding. The alliance troops are advancing upon us… I’m unsure if I should say this, but we should start preparing for what comes next." "What comes next?” Tier turned, meeting Augus’s anxious gaze. Confronted by Tier's piercing, cold gaze, Augus held his breath momentarily, cold sweat forming on his brow. He quickly lowered his head, nervously anticipating Tier's rebuke. To his surprise, Tier didn't reprimand him. "Return to your post." Augus paused, not initially grasping the command, his face gradually paling. Return? At this critical juncture… with Avont City encircled, where could he return to? Understanding the implication in Tier’s eyes, Augus nodded shakily, barely managing a "yes" from his lips, then awkwardly walked towards the door. He should have foreseen this outcome. As the Southern Legion's General Staff Officer, he had no higher rank "above him" to rely on. Since exhausting all strategic options, the Southern Legion's fate was sealed. At the very least, in these final moments, he wanted to spend time with his family, then join them in the next world… As he watched Augus leave, Tier turned his gaze back to the holographic screen, slowly closing his eyes. Why? Where did it all go wrong? Was it because of that pangolin? If that creature hadn't ascended the Honor Academy’s steps to announce Julius’s death, leading to a fracturing once-unified legion, the Southern Legion wouldn’t be in such dire straits… At first, he genuinely believed this theory. However, upon deeper reflection, it didn't quite add up. A once united Legion... But when had the Legion ever truly been united? "Noble Emperor Julius... Your children have abandoned you. Of all the Wilant people, only a few of us still honor your teachings." With a wistful sigh, he closed the holographic screen before him and strode purposefully into the adjacent laboratory. Located on the 68th floor of the Tower of the World, this laboratory was the breeding ground for the "Death Agent" and also housed Martin, preparing his final card for him. Seeing Tier enter the lab, Martin's expression was slightly flustered, yet he nodded in respectful acknowledgment. "Mr. Tier..." Tier, with an unreadable expression, asked, "Any new progress?" Martin's face showed an awkward smile as he shook his head. "We’re still working hard, but unfortunately, there have been no significant breakthroughs." The Death Agent had been designed flawlessly. However, it had failed to disseminate, halted at the southern beaches of the Wilant Province. The alliance and academy researchers managed to stabilize patients with minimal drugs, and Triumph City's extensive experience in establishing quarantine zones was unexpected. Perhaps the infectious route was not the wisest choice; the wastelands contained too many uncertainties, a lesson indeed for the Enlightenment Society. They should have opted for other, more efficient methods... But neither the "Torch Plan" nor the Torch Church's methods proved viable. What remained? Should they blow up the entire planet? That... seemed rather extreme. The Enlightenment Society sought a pure planet, not a fractured asteroid belt. Besides, destroying a planet wasn’t an easy task. As Martin was lost in thought, Tier approached him. "Keep trying. Fetch me the biological powered armor." It was another gift from the Enlightenment Society to the Southern Legion—a legacy of the Torch Church. Rather than a gift, it was more a strategic investment. The Enlightenment Society aimed to leverage the Southern Legion’s production capabilities and ongoing series of wars, integrating shelter technology to improve the Torch Church's biological powered armor. Especially considering the Enlightenment Society’s weakness in individual combat capabilities, after learning from previous setbacks. The gray mutants of the vast desert and wasteland wanderers were unreliable, and building powered armor required a full supply chain, prompting the need for creative solutions. However... That biological powered armor was still an experimental model, never tested on the battlefield. Martin showed a troubled expression. "But that armor isn't complete—" Before he could finish, Tier's hand landed on his shoulder. "There’s no time. Take me." The unmistakable threat in Tier’s demeanor made Martin hold his breath, silenced his protest immediately. He swallowed hard, nodding stiffly. "Please, follow me..." Tier released his grip on Martin's collar, signaling with his gaze for him to lead the way. The lab fell silent, researchers averting their eyes, avoiding any contact with Tier's gaze. The pair navigated through rows of lab equipment and culture tanks, heading deeper into the lab. They soon stood before a silvery metal cabinet. Biological powered armor differed from traditional power armor. The latter was an auxiliary tool, easy to remove, whereas the former integrated with the wearer's circulatory system, making removal challenging. Martin, nervously, approached the control panel, tapping it gently. Rows of green signal lights soon illuminated the cabinet’s surface. With a hissing sound, the smooth metal surface split open with an abrupt seam, the tightly-closed alloy doors sliding open. At the same moment the doors opened, a mass of scarlet flesh extended out like boiling lava. The sight was enough to lower anyone’s sanity level drastically, making even Tier furrow his brow. "Can someone actually wear this thing?" Martin nodded hesitantly. "In theory… yes. The Torch Church used it in battles in the Ha estates Province, so you must know that." The armor had previously troubled the allies considerably. It nearly ambushed the alliance’s management more than once—or at least that’s what the Torch Church claimed. Tier nodded with a face void of emotion. He knew well. After all, he had sent a 902 mm artillery before as a display of force by the Southern Legion. Who’d have thought that times would change so drastically, and the Southern Legion would find itself at a dead end? "How does this work?" Startled by Tier’s inquiry, Martin, tense as a coiled spring, answered instinctively. "Once in contact, respond to its desire... Wait, are you planning to use it yourself?!" "Yes." As the words left Tier’s lips, he stepped up, pressing his hand against the scarlet flesh. Blood-red tendrils extended from the mass, wrapping around his fingers, slithering up his arm, as if becoming part of him. Simultaneously, overwhelming negative emotions surged into his mind like a tidal wave. Kill! Devour! Destroy! Consume everything! A pained groan escaped Tier’s lips, but it soon transformed into a sound of delight. The indescribable energy from the flesh was exactly what he innately craved! Yes— Perhaps that’s what he truly desired, an inherent longing to destroy everything standing in his way. Including those who opposed him. Even those who supported him. Even the Wilant people. He hadn’t gone mad—merely absorbed the emanating energy of that flesh, accepting the overwhelming madness it brought. If victory was unattainable— Then let there be destruction! The defeated Wilant people were no longer of noble stature. Undoubtedly, they were the most inferior group, and an inferior group should be wiped out without a trace from the jungle! That was nature's choice! An unerring path to being higher life forms! At this moment, Tier resembled an enraged, disappointed horse owner, ready to kill his best steed for failing to win the race. If no one was willing to charge with him once more— Then he would lead the charge himself! The scarlet mass spread over Tier's entire body, extending from his feet across the floor in all directions. In that instant, he transformed into a monstrosity. Or rather, a species unknown to Earth. Fear carved into Martin's face as he stumbled backward on unsteady, leaden legs. This isn't even powered armor!? Something must have gone wrong! He suddenly recalled that in an earlier experiment, he had preliminarily integrated genetic code from a mutant slime mold queen seed into the powered armor—potentially enhancing mimicry and regenerative capabilities. That code had history. It was originally sourced by the Torch Church's pioneers from the Queen Nest of Clear Spring City— "Quick, sever the connection with it!" Martin shouted, hurriedly grabbing a liquid nitrogen canister, fumbling to aim it at Tier. But before he could unlock the safety pin, a scarlet tendril whipped the canister from his hands, then swiftly coiled around his body, hoisting him off the ground. "Ahhh—" Martin struggled desperately, flailing his legs, though he was merely a helpless researcher. Fully integrated with the flesh, Tier sidestepped swiftly, confronting Martin. His legs seemed to grow from the flesh-covered floor itself. "Sever what?" Seeing Martin's pale face, Tier forced a satisfied smile onto his distorted visage. Concurrently, the flesh creeping across the floor seeped into other rooms of the laboratory. Witnessing the crimson tide sweeping toward them, the researchers in the lab were frozen in shock. And in that moment of stunned silence, the scarlet mass lunged at them. "Ahhh!" Just like Martin, the closest researcher to the mass of flesh was instantly ensnared by scarlet tendrils, subsequently crushed and reduced to a pulp, like a tomato squashed underfoot. The sudden outbreak of chaos terrified everyone. The bewildered researchers snapped back to reality, sprinting desperately towards the emergency exits. “Sample breach! Run!” “Damn it! Let go of me!” “Uh—crack!” Screams echoed one after another! In mere moments, the virus lab on the 68th floor of the "Tower of the World" became a hell on earth. The rampant tide showed no mercy towards these “nutrients” practically served on a plate. Having just awakened from dormancy, it craved flesh to propagate and expand itself. Like pythons targeting prey, the tendrils quickly closed the gap, coiling around fleeing researchers and dragging them into a scarlet inferno. Even those fortunate enough to evade its grasp were not safe. As the scarlet tendrils harvested twenty lives, then shattered the nutrition tanks in the lab’s storeroom, the flesh, now sated, began spreading through ventilation shafts and elevator shafts, both upwards and downwards within the building. Facing the pale Martin, Tier forced a contented smile onto his distorted features. "…I’m quite pleased with your gift. When I have time, I’ll pay your people a visit." Martin stared in horror, his mouth quivering, eyes filled with despair. “You monster…” Tier smiled faintly. "That's exactly how an insect would see a human." With those words, his hand tightened slightly, and the tendrils constricting Martin began to squeeze. Like bursting a water-filled balloon, a simple flex of his fingers reduced the hapless researcher to a mess of flesh and blood. “Squelch—” The blood that sprayed onto Tier's body was absorbed beneath his skin within seconds, wholly digested and assimilated. A satisfied smile spread across his warped face. In that moment, he felt omnipotent, a deity standing atop the food chain, overlooking all creation. No life on this planet should surpass his strength now. As for his identity as a Wilant… That no longer seemed important. "Come forth for a glorious battle… Alliance, Corporations, the Academy… and the Legion." “Hahaha!” Tier's scarlet eyes shimmered with a frightening brilliance as he laughed maniacally, echoing madness. At the same time, gunfire erupted within the "Tower of the World." Armed security and Tier’s personal guards were relentlessly pushed back by the rampaging organism, helplessly transformed into sustenance for the indefinable creature. In mere hours, the crimson flesh had consumed the entire alloy-structured skyscraper, flowing from its open doors into the street outside. Surveying the grim scene below, a look of astonishment was etched on Lao Bai's face as he stood aboard the Viper transport aircraft. According to information from captured Southern Legion forces, the death agent's laboratory was housed within the iconic "Tower of the World." They had planned a raid there, yet even before they could deploy, the target had self-destructed. “Holy hell… did we hit a hornet’s nest?” quipped Quit-Smoking, peering down from across him. With a serious expression, Lao Bai responded, “I’m not sure… but honestly, this looks like a mutant slime mold queen's lair.” Quit-Smoking was taken aback by this revelation. "A queen? Then Little Feather should handle this perfectly." Indeed, theoretically speaking, Little Feather was the nemesis of mutant slime mold queens. It wasn’t just Quit-Smoking who thought of Little Feather; the same idea crossed Lao Bai’s mind instantly. Fortunately, the goblin battalion with which Luoyu was associated was stationed on the front lines. Without hesitation, Lao Bai switched communication channels and contacted Luoyu, who was flying above them. “Luoyu! It’s up to you!” To be continued...