Chapter 25

“What kind of map is this?”

The networked Firefly wobbled its chubby body. “I don’t know… it seems to be connected to an internal network system. I don’t have access. But for an unknown star region like this, I suggest retreating…”

As the old saying goes, curiosity killed the cat.

Before it could finish, Bai Ruonian was already intrigued and clicked enter without a second thought.

A flash of intense light appeared before him, and then it suddenly went dark. Unlike the fantastical, magical, and brilliantly colored scenery of the game, an expanse of dusty, rocky wasteland composed of gray and black stretched out before him.

Dark clouds loomed overhead, a feeling of oppression and horror washing over him.

“Player, let’s go back…” The Firefly flapped its wings uneasily. The system sprite itself had no idea where it was. “Where is this exactly… it looks like a simulated battlefield…”

“Seems like we can’t go back,” Bai Ruonian said. He wasn’t as worried as the Firefly. His cat-like temper flaring up, he excitedly walked forward.

The Firefly shouted from beside the panel, “This map has pain sensory feedback too!! It’ll hurt!”

However, the roar of massive mecha engines ahead and the shouts in internal channels drowned out the Firefly’s voice. Bai Ruonian stealthily climbed behind a piece of cover and saw a dark mass of Zerg Swarm and a dozen mechas tangled in combat with them.

It wasn’t waves of respawning enemies; it was a true Zerg Swarm, stretching as far as the eye could see, surrounding the mechas so completely their colors couldn’t be made out. Unlike the popular player-vs-player Arena on the Public Network, this was purely monotonous and tedious anti-Zerg practice.

The little Firefly was terrified. “Where the heck have I ended up?”

It wanted to go home.

Unlike the Firefly’s unease, Bai Ruonian watched one mecha carving a path with a Light Cannon and his eyes sparkled. “Wow! So cool!”

Bai Ruonian was watching the show, but the squads of the 10th Division were fighting like madmen. The Banelings and Stealth Zerg, unlike the stupid Worker Zerg, could ambush, form strategies, and even sniff out who had the weakest combat power to organize targeted attacks.

“Zhao Lixin, toss me a Recovery Potion!”

“Incoming! How come these bugs are so sly, they even intercept supplies!”

The group was shouting at each other when suddenly a Baneling sneakily lunged at Zhao Lixin, buzzing eerily, its mandibles aimed at his mecha.

Zhao Lixin saw that ugly face and thought, ‘This is bad.’

Lu Mingjin’s words: On the battlefield, you only have one chance, one life. Die once in the exercise field, and you go back for a hundred extra bugs in training.

The A-Rank Alpha’s Mental Power erupted in a small flash of brilliance, engulfing him and that bug. The scorching light incinerated five more nearby bugs that were still buzzing, ready to pounce.

“Smells pretty good,” some shameless person commented.

“What a heavy taste…” Due to his Mental Power being exhausted, Zhao Lixin’s mecha form was forcibly disengaged, and he fell from it.

Everyone watched their comrade ejected from his mecha. No one moved.

That was the way of the battlefield. Unless it was for a critical strategic objective that drew attention, whoever charged over would be drowned by the Zerg Swarm. On the anti-Zerg battlefield, there were only extermination actions, no rescue plans. Everyone took responsibility for their own life.

Squad Leader Luo Xinghe gave the order, “Zhao Lixin, log off.”

Zhao Lixin closed his eyes helplessly. Of course, he understood. Bugs were different from Space Pirates. These disgusting things would charge mindlessly, one after another, like they didn’t know what death was. Organizing a rescue for one person would only sacrifice more.

This wasn’t some ‘Saving Private Ryan’ movie.

Everyone just watched helplessly as their comrade fell from his mecha. Even during routine training missions, this kind of thing felt like a knife to the heart.

Yet, at this critical moment, a mecha as lithe as a cat appeared from seemingly nowhere, weaving through the swarm with a bizarre Z-shaped zigzag. Although its operation seemed a bit flustered, it accurately dodged several lunging bugs and caught Zhao Lixin just before he hit the ground. Zhao Lixin’s vision spun wildly as he heard a clear, youthful voice suddenly sound in the channel.

“Hold on tight.” The White Mech hooked Zhao Lixin and clumsily found a spot of cover, struggling but managing to land. After dropping the person off, Bai Ruonian caught his breath, looking at the disoriented Zhao Lixin, and asked cautiously, “A-are you okay?”

Zhao Lixin gasped for air, rolling over to sit up. “You saved my life.”

The entire channel fell silent.

They had watched a supposed comrade die without helping, using arrogant strategic doctrine to armor themselves in righteousness. Yet this copper wall and iron bastion was unceremoniously shattered by an unknown newcomer.

And his mecha was even somewhat flimsy.

Charging in, pulling someone out—it wasn’t as difficult as they had imagined. They had just fallen into rigid thinking.

The fig leaf was ripped away. Hao Mingxu of Squad B was the first to speak on the public channel. “Who are you?”

Bai Ruonian tilted his head and sent a message back. “I’m a player.”

The question seemed nonsensical, so he sent another. “Is this a new dungeon? Haven’t seen it before.”

“Dungeon??” Sensing something was wrong, Hao Mingxu asked in the internal channel.

Squad B Hao Mingxu: [I’ve never seen this mecha. Observation Tower, what’s going on?]

Observation Tower: [Unregistered mecha, cannot identify. However…]

Squad A Luo Xinghe: [However what?]

Observation Tower: [IP is correct, connected from the internal network. The IP address belongs to Lu…]

The Observation Tower’s signal scrambled before the rest could be sent, drowned out by the buzzing of insect wings.

Bugs were a very intelligent species. Just like humans, or even more so, they could sense who was weakest at any given moment.

And Zhao Lixin, who had exhausted his Mental Power, and Bai Ruonian, who was exhausted, became the primary targets.

“This isn’t a dungeon…” Zhao Lixin said, mustering his strength. “This is the Military Training Ground… what ill wind blew a little unlucky guy like you here?”

Bai Ruonian’s mecha was light and agile, looking quite talented, but relatively speaking, it was indeed a “little guy.”

And at this moment, “unlucky” was certainly the right word. The overwhelming Zerg Swarm swarmed madly toward the cover where Bai Ruonian had hidden Zhao Lixin.

“Damn…” Zhao Lixin cursed. His Mental Power still hadn’t recovered. “You shouldn’t have saved me. I’m a soldier, Mental Power Rank A. Getting directly ganked offline by bugs hurts physically, but I recover fast. You, coming from who-knows-where, I’m afraid you won’t be able to handle getting knocked offline.”

Despite his words, he still felt a little guilty.

But he hadn’t expected Bai Ruonian to just laugh, flashing a set of pointed canines. “No choice then. Guess we’ll just log off together.”

Zhao Lixin choked up. This was the first time he’d encountered this kind of logic.

Bai Ruonian tilted his head, finally processing Zhao Lixin’s words, and quickly asked, “Does logging off hurt a lot?”

“Hurt… didn’t you consider the consequences before saving someone?”

Guess he was just slow on the uptake…

Bai Ruonian shrank his neck a bit, but the smile and his canines didn’t disappear. He muttered, “Of course, I know it hurts, but I didn’t have a choice when I saw you falling.”

Zhao Lixin felt this kid was a bit naive and innocent. “Where exactly are you from?”

“I was just playing games at home when a map suddenly popped up, so I came in.”

Zhao Lixin yelled at the top of his lungs, “Observation Tower, you hear that?! Fix the internal network now!! Or how many more little guys do you want wandering in here to get beaten?!”

The observer at the Observation Tower was also innocent. He had checked the internal network—there wasn’t a single problem.

The bugs came surging in a black mass, the buzzing incredibly close. Huge Compound Eyes scanned through the gaps, looking eerie and horrifying.

Bai Ruonian held his breath. This was his first time facing bugs directly.

So ugly…

Bai Ruonian wrinkled his nose and instinctively raised a hand to swat.

Zhao Lixin’s pupils shook.

This was too spacey… was his attention span really that easily diverted?

The Compound Eyes of the bug before them flickered, and suddenly, its entire head probed into the gap. A giant mandible extended inward. Bai Ruonian had been about to throw an item, but in the next second, the entire rock formation was blasted apart.

As Bai Ruonian was hooked out by a sharp claw, he didn’t forget to toss a Mental Recovery Potion to Zhao Lixin. “Hurry up and get better—I can’t hold on much longer!”

The potion bottle rolled on the ground. Zhao Lixin roared, “Damn!! Where are you people?! Get over here and rescue him!”

At that moment, everyone could see the giant Scythe Zerg, hideously unfurling its scythe-like wings, sharp, reeking of acid and blood.

The beautiful, silver-haired omega was now held aloft in the air, as frail as a sheet of paper.

The demolitions specialist wanted to blast it down but was stopped by Luo Xinghe. He said sternly, “You’ll blast him along with it.”

“Then what do we do?” Hao Mingxu was finding it hard to control his emotions. He was the closest to Zhao Lixin. Having stood by coldly once already was incredibly painful; doing it again was unbearable.

Watching a comrade get shot down while “their own people” stood by, letting a complete stranger, a little guy, risk himself for a rescue—what kind of principle was that?

“He just doesn’t understand the cruelty of war. Treats it all like a thrilling game.” Squad Leader A’s voice held a detached coldness and a lofty judgment.

Hao Mingxu only felt a surge of hot blood rush to his head, wanting nothing more than to smash his fist into that feigned composure. Watching coldly from a safe distance—what part of that was battlefield cruelty?

The public channel was deathly silent. Hao Mingxu, fuming, directly called the Observation Tower. “Get the Technical Department on it now! Fix the internal network!!! Do you hear me?!”

The observer at the Observation Tower felt very wronged.

There was nothing wrong with the network! The IP location traced back… it was the only external IP integrated into the Military Command, the developer’s IP. The user was clearly—

==

In the air, Bai Ruonian was now face-to-face with the Scythe Zerg.

Truly ugly.

If he had claws, he’d definitely scratch this bug’s face to shreds. Unfortunately, he had no strength left. Struggling a bit, the bug’s grip on him was painfully tight.

Fine, sharp pain traveled along the sensory circuits to his nerves. Bai Ruonian broke out in a cold sweat. This time, it wasn’t the little Firefly screaming nearby, but the system’s stiff, mechanical voice.

[Detected player is about to be forcibly logged out. Activate Mate Mode?]