Fierce Battle at Winter Willow Camp!

Winter Willow Camp was ablaze with fire. Led by two decurions, roughly twenty marauders took advantage of the lingering morning mist in the forest, advancing on the settlement from two directions. Without any warning, gunfire suddenly erupted! The elderly guard at the village gate was shot dead. As five Molotov cocktails sailed into the village, shattering against the wooden palisade and the buildings by the entrance, the raid officially commenced. The marauders wore coats fashioned from hyena pelts, with necklaces of human bones and animal teeth draped around their necks. The bayonet-tipped Ripper rifles in their hands looked just like spears. Screams and wails rose one after another. Vulgar, mocking taunts, coarse laughter, and gunshots turned the place into a living hell. The village's wooden palisade was engulfed in roaring flames, spreading from north to south. Enveloped in the churning smoke, no one could tell how many attackers had arrived. Men and women fled frantically toward the village perimeter. In the panic, people stumbled and fell from time to time, quickly overtaken by the marauders chasing behind them. Anyone deemed valuable as a captive received a brutal beating before having their hands and feet bound and being dumped by the roadside. Anyone deemed useless was executed on the spot—either by having their throat slit or a blade shoved through the back of their heart. At first, some attempted to resist, courageously firing back with hunting rifles and bows, while others even charged forward with woodcutting axes, desperate to take an enemy down with them. Yet the cruel reality was that almost all struggles were in vain. In close-quarters combat with cold weapons, the survivors were no match for the marauders in either skill or gear. The hunters who took up firearms managed only a few shots before a dense hail of bullets pinned them behind cover, unable to move. In the end, they were either gunned down in the street as they retreated or overrun by bayonets and stabbed into sieves. In truth, the survivors of Winter Willow Camp were not weak. The unfortunate reality was that they had run into the Bone Chewers... These marauders were entirely different from the ones they had encountered before! Not only were they well-equipped, but they were also well-trained. They provided covering fire as they advanced, and when charging, they knew precisely when to mass together and when to disperse. Even after breaching the settlement, they did not scatter into a chaotic rabble. Instead, they methodically cleared out remaining resistance in the village, dividing and encircling the fleeing survivors and herding them toward the northwest corner. There stood an earthen wall, the thickest barrier in the entire village. The surrounding houses were far off, offering nothing to climb on. Herded into that corner, the survivors were like lambs trapped in a pen, left with nothing to do but bare their necks to the slaughter, completely at their captors' mercy. A man with a protruding jaw and a fist-sized skull hanging around his neck held a taped-up automatic rifle. He fired two shots into the sky—*bang, bang*—and snarled viciously at the terrified survivors: "Hands behind your head, get on your knees!" "If I catch anyone making a move, I'll smash your skull to mush with this rifle butt!" His name was Yu. A decurion under Gangya, he had been ordered to lead his squad alongside another decurion named Tiexi to scavenge for supplies in the surrounding area. Sweeping his gaze over the villagers, Yu's eyes lingered on a few reasonably attractive women. A glint of greed flashed in his eyes, but he quickly reined it in. Spitting out a curse, he turned to bark orders at his men to gather supplies. "Hurry it up! Grain and valuables get hauled away, burn the rest!" "Stop fucking dragging your feet!" "If you want some fun, there'll be plenty of time to mess around once we get back to base!" The supplies meant for the main army had been seized by an unidentified group of survivors. Their boss refused to let it go and decided to pillage the immediate area, plundering grain, winter clothing, fuel, and other necessities from nearby survivor settlements. Before they set off, the staff officer in the navy-blue trench coat had made it a point to instruct them to make it quick and decisive, expressly warning them not to get bogged down in fighting, and above all, not to waste time amusing themselves. Had it not been for his fear of the staff officer's authority, Yu would never have left without indulging a little; he would have taken his men to have some fun no matter what. Within the Bone Chewer Tribe, the staff officers in navy-blue coats held immense status. In the past, the marauders hadn't known the first thing about fighting wars, nor had they ever won so effortlessly. Thanks to those people in navy-blue coats, they were practically invincible now. Not only had they wiped out their old enemies, but they had also swept across the entire central region, with almost no survivor settlements able to stand in their way. Marauder culture was a worship of the strong. Whoever could lead them to seize more slaves and plunder was their alpha wolf! Even Lord Gangya treated that staff officer with great respect. Yu had no desire to be singled out as a bad example and shot to serve as a warning. He knew all too well what his boss was like. Gangya showed no mercy to enemies, and just as little to his own people. The twenty-odd severely wounded allies found that morning had all been dragged out and put out of their misery. Yu still remembered what their boss had said at the time: *Burdens don't deserve to live!* The villagers were brought to the well in the center of the village. This was the village square. Food, clothes, tools... every scrap of value had been hauled from the houses and piled up in the open space. Two marauders stepped forward, prodding them with rifle bayonets to sort the villagers into two groups: useful and useless. They would slaughter those who couldn't walk to use as rations. Then they would force the rest to haul their own plundered goods and march back to the base with them. There, what awaited them would be an even more horrific hell... Watching a marauder hoist a sack of ram horn potatoes from his house, an old man kneeling on the ground found courage from gods knew where. Scrambling forward on hands and knees, he lunged and clutched the marauder's lower leg, pleading desperately: "That's the last bit of food my family has! Please... at least leave us a little!" The marauder was momentarily taken aback, but a sinister grin quickly spread across his face. He slammed the butt of his rifle down, knocking the old man to the ground. "Out of the way, old bastard!" *Leave a little?* *You'd better worry about keeping your damn life first!* A sharp *bang* rang out. The old man slumped onto the snow, blood oozing from his head. Grabbing the collar with one hand, the marauder dragged the corpse aside, stripped off the clothes, and tossed them onto the pile of loot. The surrounding survivors fell deathly silent. The savagery of the marauders turned their limbs to ice. Not a single person dared speak, let alone resist. Blood stretched all the way from the village entrance to the central well, carving a path deep into their hearts. *These people are demons!* Looking at his grandfather lying in the corner, a boy covered the mouth of his little sister, who was about to scream. He glared fixedly at the man who had murdered his grandfather, hatred burning in his eyes. The marauder seemed to notice his gaze. Looking at the boy with amusement, as if discovering an entertaining toy, he sauntered over. "That old fart your father?" The boy said nothing, only glaring back. The marauder narrowed his eyes, then noticed the little girl in the boy's arms, a foul impulse flashing across his face. Amused by a wicked thought, he drew a rusted dagger from his boot and tossed it in front of the boy, speaking in the playful tone one might use with a child: "I'll give you a chance." "Beat me, and I let you go." "Lose, and she's mine." A neighbor kneeling nearby tugged at the boy and pleaded with the marauder, "He's just a child... please spare him." "Did I ask you?" The marauder impatiently racked his bolt. Yet before he could even raise his muzzle, something struck him hard, and a plume of blood erupted from his back. *Bang—!* A thunderous gunshot echoed from the distant forest. The blood erupting from the marauder's chest sprayed across the faces of the survivors nearby. Panic-stricken, people threw themselves to the ground, scattering into buildings and diving behind cover. The surrounding marauders had no time to stop them. Their own faces were full of panic as their eyes darted around, firing toward the slope outside the village. However, they picked the wrong direction. The chatter of automatic fire sent bullets kicking up snow about a hundred meters away from Ye Shi and Kuang Feng. Seeing that no one was paying attention to him, the boy grabbed the rusted dagger from the ground. Like a startled hare, he pounced onto the shot marauder, stabbing frenziedly into the man's chest over and over, like mincing meat. At first, the marauder twitched, struggling to ward him off, but soon blood gushed from his nose and mouth, his eyes went vacant, and he stopped moving altogether. A nearby marauder spotted this, cursing violently as he raised his rifle and let loose a burst toward the boy. In the chaos, bullets whizzed past, striking who knew where. The boy rolled to the right side of the corpse, whether dead or alive unknown. "Dammit, I can't take this anymore!" Everything about this game was great, but sometimes the realism felt downright excessive! Ye Shi cursed as he worked the bolt, took aim at the marauder who had shot at the boy, and pulled the trigger again. *Bang—!* A headshot this time! With his skull shattered, the marauder crumpled silently into the snowbank beside the stone well. "It's fine. Fang Chang and Jieyan just arrived anyway... a second earlier or later won't matter." Taking a deep breath, Kuang Feng held his binoculars calmly. After scanning the village for a moment, he quickly locked onto the man with the protruding jaw. "Your two o'clock. See that shack draped in red cloth? The guy next to it with a skull hanging from his chest looks like the marauder leader." "Got him." "Take him out—" Even as he spoke, Kuang Feng saw the man's gaze shoot straight toward them. The instant their eyes met, the man lunged sideways like a leopard. *Bang—!* The rifle roared, but the bullet slammed into the snow, kicking up a spray of white powder. Working the bolt, Ye Shi pulled his eye away from the scope in utter bewilderment, unable to believe his shot had actually been dodged. "What the fuck? What just happened?" "We're on the west side..." Kuang Feng looked up at the morning sun rising in the east, his expression grim. "Careless of us." The west was higher ground. But it faced the sun! Now that the sun had risen and the morning mist had dissipated, the glare off the sniper scope had almost certainly given away their position! Yet Kuang Feng felt there was more to it. The man's awareness and reaction speed were fast to an unbelievable degree. At that moment, Kuang Feng suddenly recalled "Bear," the one smashed by the Administrator with a warhammer during their final battle against the Bloodhand Clan. *Could it be...* *An Awakened?!* Having missed his shot, Ye Shi didn't hesitate. He immediately shifted his aim to the next target, dropping a marauder crouching near the well with a single round. "Number three!" If he couldn't kill the leader, whittling down their numbers was just as good. Just then, a burst of gunfire raked over from the distance, whizzing past right above their heads. Though none hit, it forced Ye Shi and Kuang Feng to duck back behind the reverse slope. "Fuck! Why is their firepower so heavy?!" "..." Kuang Feng didn't answer. He quietly unhooked a stick grenade from his waist, cautiously leaned out from cover, and swept his binoculars over the village, quickly pinpointing the source of the incoming fire. The man was holding an automatic rifle modified with a bipod beneath the barrel and a drum magazine attached. *Well, damn.* *An assault rifle turned squad automatic weapon?* "Distance: 250 meters. Fuse delay: 6 seconds. Initial launch velocity needs to exceed 41 meters per second... no, even faster." Murmuring softly, Kuang Feng ran the numbers in his head. Normally, no one could throw an object that far, let alone match the velocity of a javelin. However... His right arm was no ordinary arm. Never mind a javelin. Even an artillery shell wouldn't be out of the question! Winding his arm back with sudden force, Kuang Feng let fly the grenade. It traced a high arc through the air, hurtling down toward the village. A burst of light machine gun fire quickly swept his way, forcing him back down. But then an explosion echoed from the distance, and the ferocious fire suddenly kicked upward, chewing through the treetops before cutting off entirely. A cascade of snow tumbled from the branches, showering them both. Ye Shi shook his head, pushing himself out from under the snow. As he set his sniper rifle back into position, he said excitedly: "Holy shit, dude! Over two hundred meters! You're a freaking human mortar!" Even movies wouldn't dare pull a stunt like that! Raising his binoculars to observe once more, Kuang Feng replied casually without expression, "This right arm has adjustable power output... It's pretty handy once you get used to it." "Badass! But wait, what happens if that prosthetic gets blown off? Would you feel awkward switching back to your regular hand—" "Shut up." Their position was already exposed. By right, they ought to relocate now. However, surrounded by dense forest, this gentle ridge to the west was the only high ground overlooking the village. Even if they moved, there were no better vantage points. Besides, Fang Chang and Brother Jieyan had already crept up to the eastern gate. Now was the exact moment they needed support! Holding a Scythe assault rifle, Jieyan led the charge, howling as he rushed through the main gate, advancing under the cover of Fang Chang's bow. Having repositioned his rifle, Ye Shi smoothly squeezed the trigger, picking off a rifleman targeting the pair and covering their advance. The simultaneous assault from long range and close quarters caught the marauders in the village completely off guard. In just five minutes of combat, the twenty-odd marauders had suffered forty percent casualties. The survivors had no choice but to duck inside buildings, relying on cover and obstacles to avoid the sniper's picking them off while locked in a standoff against the intruders who had breached the village. Their morale began to crumble! "I think we can wipe out both of their squads!" Ye Shi said excitedly, cycling the bolt. "We don't even need reinforcements!" "Don't get cocky. Keep your eyes on your target..." Before Kuang Feng could finish, he saw a red flare shoot into the sky from within the village. A bad premonition welled up inside him. "We need to move." "Move?" Ye Shi blinked. Was that really necessary? The bastards were pinned inside the buildings, afraid to even poke their heads out. What could they possibly do? Just then, the roar of engines reached them from afar. Startled, Kuang Feng immediately raised his binoculars and looked in the direction of the sound. Two trucks had pulled up at the edge of the forest to their north, about five to six hundred meters away. Roughly forty men leaped down from the flatbeds, splitting into four squads and advancing rapidly from north to south. And their current position sat directly in the path of the westernmost squad! Noticing the situation to the north as well, Ye Shi's face changed instantly. "Holy shit... we're screwed." Forty men! If each one spat once, it would be enough to drown them! Kuang Feng's expression was just as grim. "Can you hit them?" Swallowing hard, Ye Shi said, "Hit them... my ass! I don't even have forty bullets left!" Never mind that moving targets couldn't guarantee one shot per kill—even if every shot were a headshot, he couldn't take out forty-odd guys! Hearing Ye Shi's response, Kuang Feng took only a second to make up his mind. "No choice. We have to pull back!" Though the quest rewards were enticing, the enemy's strength had exceeded their operational capabilities. Retreating now would only cost some ammunition; continuing to fight meant losing all their gear here. Yet almost at the exact moment he made the call, the VM strapped to his arm buzzed. A notification window popped up: [Quest: Reinforce Winter Willow Camp (Completed)] [Quest (New): Cooperate with Reinforcements to Rout the Marauders! (In Progress)] Kuang Feng was stunned for a moment, but sheer delight quickly spread across his face. He snapped his head toward the south. Within the woods, dozens of figures had already emerged against the tree line! Still prone on the ground, Ye Shi spotted them too, shouting in wild excitement: "Reinforcements! Our reinforcements are here!" Before his words even settled, a charge whistle blew, and war cries boiled over in the distance. "Brothers, charge!" "Aoli gei!" "Kill!" An earth-shaking roar swept from south to north, like a grand army storming through the forest. Even before the men arrived, the overwhelming momentum terrified the marauders in the village out of their wits, breaking them out in cold sweat. A drop of sweat rolled down Yu's forehead. Pinned inside the wooden shack by the sniper, he didn't dare poke his head out to look, nor did he know how long it would take for their reinforcements to arrive. He only knew one thing: If they didn't pull back now, he and his boys were going to die horribly! "Let's retreat! That sound is at least a century!" Tiexi roared at him from another wooden shack. Reaching a consensus with the other decurion, Yu made an immediate decision and bellowed: "Retreat!" "Everyone, retreat!" Inside Winter Willow Camp, the marauders could hold out no longer. Abandoning their cover and the wounded, they fled the wooden houses and shanties they had seized, scrambling frantically to the north. The gunfire gradually faded. Survivors hiding in cupboards, beneath bedboards, and among the ruins crawled out from their hiding spots. Gazing upon their devastated village and the corpses strewn across the ground, they looked bewildered. Soon, weeping broke out, while others dropped wordlessly to their knees. Rather than despair, it was more like numbness. None of them knew how to face this, much less where to go from here. The boy found his little sister. He patted the back of her head and mumbled a few soothing words. Ma Zhanqiu, the village chief of Winter Willow Camp, found his eldest son on the street leading to the north gate, riddled with bullet holes. The young man gripped a hunting rifle with wide-open eyes, still clutching two unfired shells in his hand. His Adam's apple bobbed. The old chief closed his eyes, silent. Fang Chang, carrying his mechanical compound bow on his back, and Jieyan, holding his rifle, walked out from the side of the street. Looking at the devastation and the hellish scene around them, Jieyan swallowed hard. "Is this game always this realistic...?" "Always. And before you joined, we saw even worse. Fortunately, there's an emotional desensitization filter. Once you take off the helmet, it's just like waking from a lucid dream, and the parts that made your brain uncomfortable get blurred out. So don't worry," Fang Chang patted Jieyan on the shoulder. "You'll get used to it." If one couldn't get used to it, there were more relaxed ways to play—such as fishing, hunting, mushroom picking, and the like. The game never dictated how players had to play. In fact, the operator constantly encouraged players to find a playstyle that suited them within the rules. Jieyan nodded, partially understanding. Indeed... If this were reality, even if he hadn't pissed himself, he certainly would have been terrified out of his mind. How could he possibly be joking around with teammates like this? Everyone was just an ordinary person, not some smirking God of War from online ads. Then again, in-game bodies were different from reality in the first place. If he were as frail as his real-life self, how the hell could he play? With his real-world body hollowed out by booze and cigarettes, running twenty or thirty meters would probably leave him gasping for breath, to say nothing of charging forward while firing an assault rifle. Without a doubt, any random scavenger could pin him to the ground and beat him silly...