Chapter 983 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 983: "Handle" The street was shrouded in swirling dust and a faint red mist, with only the sporadic barking of dogs breaking the stillness. The distant clamor of gunfire had finally subsided. Hiding in an abandoned shop along the street, Malik peered nervously out the window, his heart pounding wildly. He was at least 500 meters away from the spot where he had been ambushed by the sniper. If all went well, the sniper had not pursued him and might not even have noticed that he had discreetly changed his position. Yet, despite this temporary safety, Malik remained on high alert, carefully monitoring the situation outside. Suddenly, a notification appeared on his helmet’s visor: [Communication Restored], nearly causing him to jump out of his skin. "Damn it..." Cursing under his breath at the delayed signal, Malik quickly shut off the communication interface, returning to radio silence. The signal vanished after barely two seconds. Seeing the gray icon, Malik finally heaved a sigh of relief, his racing heart slowly calming down. This way, even if the Alliance captured his teammates, they wouldn't be able to pinpoint his location. Recalling the gruesome death of Valen, Malik felt a shiver of dread. It was unavoidable. The gruesome scene of brain matter splattered all over couldn’t easily be shaken off; even now, his stomach churned at the thought. Having determined that he was out of immediate danger, Malik took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. Honestly, he hadn’t expected the Alliance to dispatch a fighter jet, and that signal jamming grenade was beyond his expectations. There was only one explanation— From the moment they entered this area, they had been under surveillance. In fact, even before they initiated their operations, their adversaries had meticulously planned each step of the ambush. The thought that they had unwittingly walked into a trap set right under the enemy's nose made Malik's face burn with shame. This was too foolish! "...I need to find a way out of here." Muttering to himself, he leaned out of the window, planning his escape route. However, at that moment, he noticed a mutated owl perched on the damaged street lamp across the road. The owl stared at him intently, its gaze unyielding, with its plump cheeks twitching slightly. Meeting that faintly provocative gaze, Malik suddenly felt an ominous foreboding. Almost instinctively, he loosened his grip on the rifle and reached for the silenced pistol at his waist. To prevent alerting the Alliance during his escape, eliminating this hidden threat in advance was the best solution. But before he could reach for his pistol, a silent and powerful force struck the back of his knee. "Clang!" A dull thud echoed, accompanied by Malik's pained growl. "Ah—" The blow to his right leg forced him to bend his knee and he dropped to one knee. Luckily, he was wearing powered armor; otherwise, that blow might have severed his lower leg. Before Malik could recover from the intense pain, the sensation of something sharp withdrawing from his knee made every nerve in his body tense up! Acting on instinct, he swung his right fist backward, striking the short sword that had been wielded against him. "Clang—!" The metallic clash resonated through the abandoned shop, and as Malik turned around, he finally saw his assailant. A woman cloaked in a cape stood before him. Her weathered face bore a deep scar, and her eyes contained even deeper animosity. Facing those hate-filled eyes, Malik unconsciously narrowed his eyes. "...Who are you?" His instincts told him this person wasn’t from the Alliance. The woman didn’t respond, instead swiftly closing the distance between them. "Courting death!" Seeing the woman advance with her blade, Malik sneered coldly, raising his rifle to fire. However, the muzzle flash barely lasted a second before a flicker of the woman’s blade sliced off half of the rifle’s receiver. So fast! Startled, Malik reflexively drew his pistol and fired, but he managed only two shots before the woman closed in, deflecting his aim so that the shots struck the ceiling instead. A cloud of dust rained down from the ceiling, covering Malik’s face. Shocked and infuriated, he kicked forward, but his foot caught in her cloak, allowing her to deftly sidestep. "Buzz—" The spinning blade emitted a sharp whirr, slicing through the air as it struck his left knee from the side. With both legs now struck, and despite his armor only showing a shallow scratch, Malik couldn’t suppress a pained growl. They were too close! Practically shoulder to shoulder, nose to nose! Malik felt like a clumsy elephant, while the cloaked woman darted around him like a nimble mouse, biting left and right. Even though the attacks barely scratched his power armor, this method of fighting wouldn’t do! Just as he tried to stabilize himself, the woman suddenly leapt back, widening the gap between them. Sensing danger, Malik's gut twisted with a sudden premonition. In that instant, a fiery explosion detonated behind him. The bomb seemed taped to his back, the flames bubbling over before he could react, sending him stumbling forward as if struck by a heavy club, pressing him to the ground with the searing shockwave. [Alert! Power components critically damaged!] Yellow warnings flashed across his visor, and Malik felt like every part of him—mechanical or flesh—had been knocked out of place. Dazed, he tried to push himself up, only for something like a brick to slap against the back of his head with a dull "thud." Cold sweat trickled from his brow, sneaking under his helmet and into his collar. Without thinking, Malik relinquished his resistance and lay face-down on the ground, completely conceding his defeat. From their brief exchange, it became painfully clear that he was no match for this opponent, power armor or not. "I surrender..." The woman said nothing, instead glancing toward the streetlamp, where the mutated owl had been perched. The owl seemed to comprehend her look, flapping its wings and flying skyward, circling once before heading north. Watching the owl depart, the woman returned her gaze to the prostrate Enlightened Order follower. In a calm, flat voice, she instructed him. "Take it off yourself." ... Meanwhile, beneath a half-collapsed skyscraper, a "Dawn" power suit emerged from the shadows of the ruins. Its ceramic armor was marred by dents and bullet holes, chaotic scratches marring its pale gray paint, and its alloy mantis blades were nearly blunted from use! Its appearance was bedraggled, as if it had just crawled out of hell. Only seasoned veterans could discern that most damages were superficial, centered on the detachable chest plate. As for the mantis blades, they were consumables, expected to become dulled in clashes with armored foes. That these blades were still usable by the end was astounding! This guy was an expert! Approaching the power suit emerging from the base of the building, the [Taran Raider], who had been grandstanding before the captives, spread his arms wide with a grin. “Well done, brother! How about joining our sand—” The player grinned, discarding the two mantis blades onto the ground and extending his right hand decisively. “No need for flattery! Settle my payment, brother.” “Darn! Aren’t you heartless?” The player smirked. “Not necessarily, it depends on the situation.” Taran Raider: "...&￥#@!" Darn! Who are you looking down on?! Despite the grumbling, the agreed payment was to be made regardless. Furthermore, the payment had already been processed through the Alliance's Mercenary Guild; there was no need for an on-the-spot transaction. Once the task was confirmed as complete, the funds automatically transferred to the counterpart's account. Having received his bounty, the player didn’t hurry to leave, instead cheekily setting a watch at the edge of the town. The mission was not yet finished. The earlier skirmish had been an impromptu affair. The task Malik received from the Desert Corps was to assist them in meeting with a key NPC. Only after the entire mission process was complete could he receive the remainder of his payment based on its success. As a professional freelance player, he upheld a certain level of integrity in his work. Watching the Desert Corps’ leader, who looked rather defeated, Junichiro Xiaochuan, another mercenary, sauntered over with a playful smile, twirling a combat knife in his hand. “Old baldy, trying to lure in freelancers again?” Hearing the casual nickname, Talan Raider nearly choked on his own spit, turning to snap back. "Get lost! I'm Talan! You’re the bald one, your whole family is bald!" Xiaochuan rolled his eyes, retorting playfully. "Come on, who uses such a serious name, sounds like an NPC." Talan Raider chuckled mockingly. "And you? Sound like a corpse?" Xiaochuan rolled his eyes again, exasperated. "Enough, enough." Although Xiaochuan was not part of the Desert Corps, Talan had become familiar with him and the often-seen Sand Sculptor, owing to frequent shared missions. Talan had tried more than once to persuade them to join the Desert Corps directly, but they had consistently refused. Eventually, Talan gave up on the idea. Not everyone enjoys being part of a group. Talan also realized that his Desert Corps lacked appeal in the grand scheme. They had neither substantial benefits nor significant roles on the wasteland's stage, often botching minor tasks. Receiving a mission directly from a manager this time was honestly a delightful surprise for him. Especially since their previous operation at Eternal Night Harbor had been quite a mess... After exchanging a few casual remarks with the freelance players, Talan turned back to the clearing where the captives were held. The interrogation by his brethren must have wrapped up by now. As he expected, [Medical Miracle], the brother responsible for the interrogation, approached. “We’re done questioning them. They belong to the Desert Scorpions.” “Desert Scorpions?” Talan Raider frowned, muttering thoughtfully, “What's that?” [Medical Miracle] reported concisely. "According to their testimony, they’re a special unit within the Enlightened Order. Most core members are residents of a shelter, with some having taken gene-inducing compounds to awaken their abilities." Talan Raider's eyes lit up, greeting the news with an exuberant smile. "Wow, we took down a special unit!" [Medical Miracle] responded with a nuanced expression. "If I’m not mistaken… the Enlightened Order doesn't have a regular army, so technically all their units are ‘special units’." Talan Raider coughed lightly. “That’s beside the point! The point is, we showed them up!” Observing the overly optimistic leader, [Medical Miracle] sighed, pausing before continuing. “From the separate interrogations, it appears they were drawn here by the radio signal, just like us. At least that suggests they’re not familiar with the NPC ‘Zhuolan’.” “Moreover, their commander is a smart one; he had the same idea as you, planning to use a signal station in the building ruins as a bait for an ambush… only to run directly into us.” To be honest, when Talan’s half-baked plan was initially presented, [Medical Miracle] harbored a pessimistic view, even preparing himself for a month of eating sand in the desert. Given the vast desert's communication issues, it was uncertain whether the signal would be received, and even if it were, whether it would attract much attention. Unexpectedly, the opponents picked up on the clue, treating it with importance, and dispatched an entire battalion. It could only be said that worthy opponents had met. “Haha, a clever fellow indeed, but still a step behind me,” Talan Raider laughed, smugly stroking his chin. “Where is this talent? Where is he?” [Medical Miracle] offered a rather awkward expression upon hearing this. “Uh, he’s not among the prisoners… Sand Sculptor said he saw someone in powered armor, but that guy got away. Not sure if it was their leader.” Talan Raider’s eyes bulged. “Damn, he got away?! What the hell were you guys doing—” “Who the hell are you calling useless!?” Before Talan could finish, a boisterous voice interrupted from the side. Turning their heads, they saw [Desert Hawk] approaching, a sniper rifle slung over his back. Two individuals trailed behind him. One was cloaked in desert hues, while the other appeared quite disheveled, securely bound with rope. "Here’s the commander of those Desert Scorpions." Dragging Malik forward with the rope, Desert Hawk cursed back at Talan. “Hell! All you do is brag. I did all the work. You should give the leader position to me!” Talan Raider’s face flushed, struggling to retort, eventually swallowing his words. [Medical Miracle] looked at Sand Sculptor in amazement. “Wow, did you really capture him?” Sand Sculptor, who had been fiery, now inexplicably blushed, coughing as he quickly explained. "Kind of… I found him. Not important. By the way, I took down his deputy with a headshot!" His voice was so quiet that [Medical Miracle] wondered if his hearing was failing. At this moment, Talan noticed the cloaked stranger, directing a questioning look towards them. "And who is this?" Seeing the inquiry directed at them, the cloaked figure reached up, pulling down the hood. Observing the weathered face, Talan Raider’s expression shifted to one of surprise. A woman? In the perilous wasteland, solitary wanderers were rare. Solo female wanderers even more so. The woman nodded slightly, introducing herself. "I am Zhuolan." Both [Medical Miracle] and Talan Raider exchanged shocked glances. "You’re Zhuolan?" Zhuolan nodded, speaking slowly. “Yes, a survivor from Vault 68, organizer of the Watchers. We have been contending with Enlightened Order forces long before your influence reached the desert.” She paused, continuing. “…Moreover, it was I who sent you that signal.” Talan Raider furrowed his brow slightly, eyes locked on her, trying to discern any deceit. "I don’t understand. If the signal came from you, why didn’t you come out to meet us?" Zhuolan fell silent momentarily, glancing towards the half-collapsed skyscraper beside them. "Because… it’s not safe to speak here." "You might have received the signal, but so could those who shouldn’t. I planned to follow when you left, but you didn’t, choosing instead to remain here." An awkward tension lingered in the air. Recalling it was his suggestion to ambush the Enlightened Order here, Talan rubbed his nose in embarrassment. Seeing the still-skeptical captain doubting this NPC’s identity, Sand Sculptor hesitated before coughing softly. “I don't think we need to doubt her… to be honest, she’s the one who captured him.” Pointing at the bound Malik, Sand Sculptor clarified. [Medical Miracle], standing nearby, almost burst his eyes in disbelief, staring at the woman who didn’t seem notably combative. Her? Could take down an armored awakened being? It was partly due to his late entry into the game, only obtaining a helmet in the last year, hence lacking knowledge of previous events in Vault 0. However, Zhuolan remained humble, not emphasizing her role in the capture. Observing several gazes falling upon the captive, she paused briefly before speaking. "Despite the mishaps, we’ve reaped an unexpected benefit, catching a big fish." Raising an eyebrow, Talan gestured at the bound figure. "You mean him?" Zhuolan nodded slowly. "Malik, leader of the Desert Scorpions, a senior disciple of the Enlightened Order… I knew of his reputation before leaving the Enlightened Order. Even back then, he was gaining notoriety, but it seems he hasn’t improved much over the years." "You truly are one of us…" Malik turned his head, glaring at Zhuolan with venom, forcing harsh words through clenched lips, "You’re a traitor, betraying the Vault, betraying everyone…" The corners of Zhuolan's mouth curled into a playful smile, though it quickly faded into self-mockery. She had once burned with the hope of igniting a new era, only to realize she was nothing more than a hopeless fool. Wasn't that her past self as well? At first, she didn't believe it either. It wasn't until she found the lost Administrator's log and unearthed the bloody truth herself that she accepted it. Indeed, the admins knew themselves best. It was true that the Enlightened Order had saved her from hell. However, it was also them who lit the fire... Facing Malik’s hateful glare, she spoke in a voice devoid of much emotion. "If you're interested, I can tell you the story of Vault 68. Once you understand the full history, you'd know who the real traitors are." "Yet, I also find it pointless. Even knowing our story, you might not sympathize. People believe only what they wish to believe and only empathize when they feel pain. I was once like you. I don't know which vault you're from, but you should find your own log... if you get the chance." Malik sneered. "...What are you going to tell me? The lies those outsiders fabricate to blame us?" Perhaps thinking the question too foolish, Zhuolan did not respond to him and instead turned her gaze to her friend from the Alliance. "To cut a long story short, I sent that signal... to tell your administrator that the wager from before is fulfilled. This is the Administrator's log from Vault 68. Aside from the log, the hard drive contains a map leading to its ruins, though there's not much left there." As she spoke, she retrieved a thumb-sized card from her pocket, handing it to the person before her. Talan Raider took the card solemnly, inserting it into his left arm's VM to read the data. "Our administrator wanted me to give you a message, that he's glad you kept your promise. Your freedom is no longer borrowed from him; it's yours from here on out." He paused before continuing. "Of course, business is business, and the Eastern Empire is still after you, given that you've killed their people." "Thank you... As for the Eastern Empire, I’ll atone for that in my own way." Zhuolan nodded slightly, raising her head to continue. "Moreover, there's something else I think you should know." Talan Raider immediately replied. "Please, go ahead!" Zhuolan continued. "Our Watcher organization’s intelligence network in the Great Desert has discovered that the Enlightened Order has uncharacteristically ceased expanding in the desolate expanse. Instead, they’re relocating personnel and materials near Vault 13." [Medical Miracle] hesitated, puzzled. "Concentrating personnel and materials? What are they up to?" The Alliance had struggled against the Enlightened Order primarily because these guys were so good at hiding. At least the Southern Legion's factories had coordinates, whereas these guys operated in black boxes, making relocating a breeze. Does gathering everything not make them fear annihilation? "I don't know," Zhuolan shook her head, after a moment's thought continuing, "Vault 13 is located near the remnants of an orbital elevator base, reportedly a thousand meters below. Unreliable sources suggest it was a contingency plan for 'The Handle'… If you don’t know what ‘The Handle’ is, please convey this message to your administrator." Talan Raider, eyes glued to her, spoke quickly. "I know about the Torch Protocol... Are you saying it's capable of withstanding a neutron-level strategic weapon strike?" Zhuolan shook her head. "All vaults theoretically have that capacity. Due to its strategic location, Vault 13 likely boasts a large area—rumored to accommodate millions. Yet, I don't know its current state; its coordinates were secret... But I trust Mr. Malik here has enjoyed its comforts." As eyes turned to him, Malik, though internally worried, maintained a cold smile. "Do you think I'd tell you anything?" "For sure? Perhaps not, but I believe this gentleman will change your mind." Zhuolan cast Malik a meaningful glance before turning back to the Alliance warrior. "He's all yours. I'd hope you don’t just release him immediately. At least make him disappear for a while." "We will," Talan earnestly nodded, addressing her directly, "What about you? What are your plans?" Zhuolan replied without hesitation. "I'm considering assuming his identity to infiltrate Vault 13 and possibly discover what the Enlightened Order is up to." Hearing this audacious plan, Malik’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Impersonate me?! Are you kidding?! You’ll never get in!" Suddenly panicking, he began to struggle, but the strong grips of his captors held him firmly in place. Amused by Malik’s panic, Zhuolan’s lips curled slightly. "You never know until you try. I’m quite confident in my disguise skills." The Enlightened Order had long used Vault 13 as their stronghold. Zhuolan had wanted to infiltrate it for a while, but hadn't found the right opportunity or target for a swap. Luckily, just as she fretted, Malik fell into her lap. Although not an Enlightened Guide yet, Malik's senior disciple status granted him access to rare information, yet wasn't prominent enough to attract undue attention. Crucially, Zhuolan, with her experience in intelligence gathering, had access to his records and personal details, making him an ideal double to impersonate. She was even confident she could share a bed with his wife without arousing suspicion. [Medical Miracle] suddenly spoke up. "Ah… I might have an idea." Before Zhuolan could respond, Talan Raider turned, warily on guard. "What kind of harebrained scheme is it this time?" "What do you mean harebrained; my ideas are far better than your random plans," [Medical Miracle] glanced at him, continued with a smile towards Zhuolan, "I think, since most of your team is dead or captured, returning alone will be suspiciously odd." Zhuolan cautiously replied. "Suspicion is inevitable, but having worked in intelligence, I know how they interrogate and how to earn their trust." Patiently, [Medical Miracle] continued. "Even so, isn't that still quite challenging? How about this: we could appoint someone here to pose as your captive, making your story more credible." Zhuolan stared, bewildered. "This… are you aware of what you're saying? Being captured by the Enlightened Order isn’t a joke..." Those guys had no qualms about their methods. They’d strap an enemy, especially a disposable one, to a memory extractor, leaving nothing untouched in the brain. As she spoke, her worried gaze shifted to the commander's superior. Surprisingly, rather than objecting, he appeared deep in thought. After a brief pause, an almost pleased Talan looked up. "Wow... you do have some useful ideas on occasion." [Medical Miracle] grinned broadly. "Ha, if you’d listened to me earlier, we'd have been at T0 level already." Desert Hawk scoffed dismissively. "Keep dreaming." He acknowledged the idea was decent, but thinking it alone would elevate them to T0 status was ludicrous—T0 elites would be everywhere by now. Zhuolan: "...?" Though unsure of what was being discussed, their demeanor and tone suggested they weren't dismissing the idea. Are these guys serious?! Worried, Zhuolan looked at them. "I can’t let you risk it." [Medical Miracle] waved her concerns aside with a smile. "Don't worry about it. We did time at Eternal Night Harbor jail, no biggie. Since it was my idea, why don’t I, Medical Miracle—" "I think it should be me, the squad leader (freelance veteran), who becomes the captive!" Before [Medical Miracle] could finish speaking, Talan Raider and Desert Hawk eagerly shouted over each other, each wanting to take on the mission. A task this intriguing shouldn’t be squandered on a teammate! Realizing someone else was vying for the opportunity, they glared at each other, neither willing to relent. "You’re not even part of our corps, why are you butting in? What does this have to do with you?!" "Ha, I’m part of the Alliance too, why wouldn’t it concern me? As for you, you’re the squad leader—how can you justify snatching this job from us civilians?" "What relation do you have to civilians anyway?!" "Quit arguing. As expected, it should be me, [Medical Miracle]—" "Get lost! Go play somewhere, newbie." "Hey! I’ve been playing for over six months now. Still calling me a newbie?!" Witnessing the heated debate over who should "volunteer," Zhuolan was left speechless, but a sense of deep respect bloomed within her. Although she didn’t understand their language, she sensed that their intentions were genuine—each hoping their comrades would live, choosing themselves for the perilous task. Such loyalty... In contrast, Malik, tightly bound and tossed aside, harbored entirely different sentiments. Feigning capture? They greatly underestimated the interrogation methods. Might as well pretend to be corpses. Outwardly unaffected, he inwardly sneered. “Heh, courting death!” To be continued...