Operation Warrior!

Late at night. Shrouded in silence, Xizhou City resembled a dead city. Only around Sixin District, where the lake had flooded the area, did a few scattered lights flicker. Inside a makeshift sentry post, Greyhound, draped in animal skins, yawned and tossed a damp block of wood into the nearby brazier, then amblingly paced over to the observation slit. Though April had brought warmer weather, the air in Xizhou City still carried a clammy chill. Especially in Sixin District. The entire district was submerged in water. On the nearby streets, ripples glinted across the water, with dark lumps floating on the surface that made it hard to tell whether they were algae-tangled rotten logs or split-claw crab carapaces. Despite the countless inconveniences of living here, it remained their best choice for setting up camp. The flooded lake waters had completely crippled the underground infrastructure of the entire district, freeing them from worry about elusive guerrillas. On top of that, the split-claw crabs prowling this area were the natural enemies of all living things; anyone unfamiliar with the terrain would find it virtually impossible to take a step. So... What was the point of standing guard here anyway? Staring out at the dead, silent streets, Greyhound yawned and couldn't help reminiscing about their days in the central region of River Valley Province. That was probably the happiest time of his life. They had swept through everything like a hot knife through butter, scorching the earth wherever they went, burning and pillaging everything, doing whatever they pleased with captured slaves... No one could stand in their way, and no one was their match. Yet ever since they had pushed south, one misfortune had followed another. First they suffered a defeat at Qingquan City, and then came bad news from Qingshi County. Not only had their southward advance been halted, but they had even been pushed back by a bunch of blue gophers. Perhaps having seen hope from those blue gophers, the guerrillas' attacks had grown increasingly frequent lately. Those survivors hiding underground were just like rats, ambushing patrols with homemade pipe rifles and crossbows, lobbing cans packed with black powder into the workshops and garages where bullets and explosives were made. Greyhound was still daydreaming when the creak of a door opening suddenly came from downstairs. Hearing movement beneath his feet, the marauder instinctively tightened his grip on his rifle and called toward the pitch-black corridor behind him. "Who's there?!" "Me! Here to relieve you!" a voice answered from the dark stairwell. A man as skinny as a monkey walked up from the landing. Seeing that it was one of his own, Greyhound breathed a sigh of relief. "Relief? Aren't there two hours left?" The man replied, "Lord Gold Fang's orders. Starting tonight, six-hour shifts are changed to four hours, and one shift a day becomes two." Greyhound was dumbfounded. He had been pretty happy to hear about the shift change, thinking he could crawl back under the covers to sleep, only to be told he had to stand another four hours. "Meaning... I have another shift?" The man clearly didn't want to work overtime either and said with irritation, "Yeah. Probably another rotten idea from that Dillon guy. Said it's to guard against sneak attacks by the blue gophers, so nighttime patrol routes are expanding from around Sixin District to the entire city." A few months ago he had respected the man, but that was a few months ago. A few months ago their army had been unstoppable, but what about now? Cowering in a garbage dump like a sick old dog. He hated the damp air here, hated the endless attacks, and hated those filthy rats even more. Thinking carefully about it now, even without that guy's ideas, they could have beaten the snot out of those survivor settlements standing in their way just the same. If not for that damned caution, they would have been sleeping in the houses of those blue gophers on the northern outskirts by last winter. Greyhound looked bewildered. "A sneak attack? We're twenty kilometers from the front lines." With a chokepoint like Pine Valley in between, how did those gophers plan on getting over here? They couldn't tunnel all the way through, could they? "Hell if I know. Orders are orders," the man said, impatiently shoving a crumpled map into Greyhound's chest. "Stop asking and get moving! If you dawdle until the relief team leaves, you'll have to walk out there alone!" Though utterly unwilling, Greyhound took the map, grabbed his rifle, and hurried downstairs. The relief post was outside Sixin District. They had to take a wooden raft out and patrol along the way. Many survivors came out under cover of darkness to scrounge for food, and most guerrillas operated during this time too. Walking the night roads alone right now was practically suicide. The raft was already waiting downstairs. Climbing aboard, Greyhound set out alongside nine brothers. Passing the mouth of an alley, he finally saw clearly what was floating there. It was an advertising billboard tangled in algae. Greyhound couldn't read the words on it; he only felt that its long rectangular shape looked remarkably like a coffin. Creeped out by the fleeting thought, he tore his eyes away from the billboard and chatted idly with the brothers on the raft. At that moment, none of them noticed the barely perceptible black specks flitting across the moonlit surface of the foul water. An aerial formation of twenty-five aircraft had already arrived directly overhead... ... Up in the night sky. Both hands gripping the control stick as he piloted a W-2 ground-attack aircraft, Mosquito shouted into the comms channel with pure excitement, "This is Goblin Corps Air Squadron! Cargo has been delivered above the target area, ready to commence operation at any time!" Their altitude was a full three thousand meters. Combined with the high-altitude airstreams, as long as they didn't open fire or drop bombs, there was no need to worry about people below hearing anything, no matter how loud they were. At that moment, Ye Shi, strapped firmly behind the pilot's seat with nylon straps, could barely feel his ears and cheeks against the rushing wind howling outside the cockpit. His whole body was completely numb. Otherwise, he certainly would have protested to Mosquito about referring to them as 'cargo.' In truth, Ye Shi's current state wasn't much different from cargo anyway. The W-2 glider was a single-seat aircraft with no extra room for passengers. Yet for a 'completely realistic VR game,' this was clearly not an issue. There was enough space between the back of the cockpit and the pilot's seat that glitching in an extra person still allowed it to take off. The players didn't 'press F to enter vehicle' anyway; even without a seat in the cockpit, they could make a spot for themselves. As for why Ye Shi was here? That was a long story. That morning, they had still been passionately trading fire with marauders in the frontline trenches, originally planning to hold out for forty-eight hours. Yet before noon, they were rotated back to the rear and ordered to carry out a special mission. At first, Ye Shi had been pretty excited, thinking their outstanding performance in the battle had triggered a hidden quest, until he heard the mission's details. According to headquarters' operational plan, they were to take Goblin Corps gliders, paradrop into Xizhou City's urban district, sabotage enemy strategic facilities, and buy time for the frontline forces. Their gear had already been dropped ahead of time in supply crates fitted with trackers stripped from VMs, which could be located even offline. Although Brother Rat had built a rudimentary communications tower back when they were nesting in Xizhou City, it had been without power for over a month due to their redeployment to Qingshi County. They needed to use the radios in the supply crates to establish a new outpost, or repair Brother Rat's communications tower. Because this was an airborne operation behind enemy lines with high risks, they could only carry light weapons and a minimal amount of support weapons; equipment like Type 5 and Type 6 exoskeletons was restricted. However, they wouldn't be alone. Planes would drop supplies every night. Thanks to the roaring sales of black stockings in Boulder City, the New Alliance's chemical plant had unlocked the technology to 'produce nylon from biomass oil' early on, solving the material problem for parachutes. And earlier, when Goblin Technology was developing the glider, they had actually produced a batch of parachutes—they just hadn't distributed them to the brothers in the corps because planes were considered more valuable than people. Yet here came the problem. He had never parachuted before! Ye Shi was panicking hard. As everyone knew, jumping solo without training was an extremely hazardous act, no different from having your hand slip during Russian roulette and firing two rounds into your own head. Especially a night jump, where the ground was completely invisible, offering a colorful variety of ways to die. Could he jump, though? Of course he could. The hardest parts of parachuting were packing the chute and landing. As for pulling the ripcord and maintaining balance, as long as one didn't encounter terrible weather and could stay calm during emergencies, it was difficult, but not unimaginably so. Knowledgeable players had already packed the parachutes for them, solving fifty percent of the problem. As for the remaining fifty percent? Just be more careful next time. The operation was code-named "Warrior," and the participating players were the entire Burning Corps. The Goblin Corps Air Squadron would paradrop them in waves. Ye Shi felt that changing the word "Warrior" to "Throwing Away Lives" would be completely accurate. Static crackled noisily over the comms channel. Then came the voice of the Administrator. "...Proceed as planned!" "Roger!" The comms channel switched to all-team voice, and Mosquito yelled enthusiastically, "Brothers of the Burning Corps, this flight has reached its destination! Remember your mission! Remember to open your chutes before you turn into meat pancakes! "Xiao Yu will pray for your safety, the Administrator will remember your loyalty, good luck! "Now, JUMP—!" One black speck after another dropped from behind the gliders' cockpits, like shits dropped by seagulls circling a harbor. The analogy was hardly flattering, but it was vivid enough. If the chute failed to deploy, plunging from three thousand meters up wouldn't look much prettier than a pile of seagull shit. Unbuckling the nylon straps from his legs, waist, and shoulders, Ye Shi gripped the edges of the cockpit with both hands, feeling his calves trembling uncontrollably. Mosquito, sitting in front, couldn't help urging him, "Fuck! Jump already! Keep dawdling and I'll run out of gas!" Ye Shi snapped back, "Your fucking electric plane doesn't even use gas!" "Run out of juice, then! Hurry up and stop whining! Once you jump, I've gotta fly back for the next run!" Ye Shi swallowed hard. "One last question... What if the parachute doesn't open?" Mosquito laughed gleefully. "Don't worry, in three days you'll be a hero again!" "Fuck!" Seeing that he was still dragging his feet, Mosquito lost his patience. "Ten seconds. If you don't jump, I'll help you." "Holy shit, don't do anything stupid!" "Ten, nine..." The bastard was already counting down. Seeing his teammates had all jumped, Ye Shi couldn't bear to chicken out any longer. Gritting his teeth, he braced himself, tumbled out, and leaped clear of the cockpit. The moment his body left the plane, he felt as if his heart had stopped. Yet that lasted only for an instant. As reference points fell away and he entered freefall, the instinctual terror vanished in a flash. Ye Shi felt like he had turned into a bird. To be fair, the sensation was pretty exhilarating, though his eardrums suffered, feeling like they were about to burst. The marauders had neither radar nor high-altitude searchlights. Though the players couldn't see the ground, the people on the ground couldn't see them either. Counting the seconds silently, Ye Shi yanked the cord at his shoulder. With a soft pop, an enormous force jerked him by the back. At the same time, his descent rate dropped rapidly... The toggles controlling the parachute's direction were right beside the suspension lines. Yet with only two hours of theoretical training, Ye Shi had no clue how to operate the damn thing. He could only adjust direction by gut feeling, nerves taut as he prayed in his heart. Perhaps the dog developers heard his prayer. His luck wasn't bad; he landed on the roof of a garage next to a three-story villa. Any further to the side, and he might have been splattered against the wall. His feet struck the ground with a solid thud, and Ye Shi stumbled, nearly tumbling off the garage roof. Grimacing as he regained his balance, he severed the suspension lines with his dagger, carefully avoided the rusted awning above the garage door, and slid down from the side. "Safe landing... Fuck, scared the shit out of me." Almost gave away a free life! Confirming the surroundings were secure, Ye Shi immediately checked his gear. Aside from the VM strapped to his arm, he only had a Pu-9 submachine gun, two 9mm magazines, a few dry rations, and a canteen. His sniper rifle and other gear were in the supply crate. Just as Ye Shi was about to check the VM for the locations of the supply crates and his teammates, rustling sounds came from nearby. Because his ears were buzzing incessantly, the sound had drawn dangerously close before he finally caught it. Snapping to attention with a jolt, Ye Shi immediately leveled his barrel in that direction and flicked the safety off. "Don't shoot, it's me! Lao Bai." Lao Bai called out in a hushed voice. Hearing Lao Bai's voice, Ye Shi's pounding heart finally calmed a little. He leaned against the wall with a sigh of relief. "Holy crap... Almost gave me a heart attack." "Relax, don't be so jumpy," Lao Bai chuckled, walking over to clap him on the shoulder. "Let's move. The supply crate is nearby. We'll recover the gear and radio first, then rendezvous with Fang Chang and the others." With that, Lao Bai took the lead. Though he wanted to catch his breath, Ye Shi knew they were deep in the Bone Chewer tribe's backyard; this was no time to rest. The two moved along the edge of the ruins, staying vigilant against dangers in the dark. Soon, they reached the entrance of an abandoned residential compound. The street across from them was dead silent. Not a single sound could be heard, not even a rat gnawing its teeth. Lao Bai didn't cross right away, instead carefully observing the street. Creeping over to crouch beside Lao Bai, Ye Shi caught his breath, finally regaining his bearings, and asked in a low voice, "By the way, how'd you land so fast?" Lao Bai replied casually, "...You dawdled too long. I waited on the ground for ages before I saw you come down." Ye Shi asked curiously, "How come you weren't scared at all?" "Saying I wasn't scared wouldn't be realistic, since someone else packed the chute. But in a game it doesn't matter; dying isn't real death anyway." Noticing Ye Shi kept digging in his ear with a finger, Lao Bai paused and added, "If your ears feel plugged, try pinching your nose and blowing air out, just don't make any noise." "Let me try..." Uncomfortable from the pressure, Ye Shi immediately followed Lao Bai's method, pinching his nose and blowing outward. At first he couldn't get the hang of it, trying for several moments to no avail. But once he found the trick, his eardrums popped open like they'd been shoved by air. "...Holy shit?! That actually works?" His hearing finally returning to normal, Ye Shi looked at Lao Bai in surprise. "You've jumped before?" "Sort of... Stop wasting breath, stick close to me." While speaking earlier, Lao Bai had already confirmed the street was clear. Signaling to Ye Shi, he slipped out of cover first and moved swiftly toward the other side. Without hesitation, Ye Shi followed immediately. The two moved rapidly toward the supply crate. Just then, frantic gunfire suddenly erupted on a street not far away. "That's a Pu-9!" Lao Bai's heart tightened. Cursing under his breath, he immediately led Ye Shi into an adjacent building. Garbled shouts echoed in the distance, followed by an explosion of gunfire. A moment later, a green flare shot into the sky. Ye Shi took a deep breath, skillfully blending his perception into the surroundings to sense the faint ripples. "About twenty people... roughly four to five hundred meters from us!" That was already the limit of his active perception range. Cross-referencing the signal on his VM's map, Lao Bai frowned. "It's Jieyan and the others! They probably ran into a patrol!" They had landed eight kilometers north of Sixin District. According to the intel provided by Brother Qiangren Suonan, the Fang Clan's night patrols shouldn't be wandering out this far. Had the routes been adjusted? Ye Shi looked at Lao Bai. "Are we going to help them?" "...Supply crate first. We have to recover our gear and the radio before enemy reinforcements arrive!" Lao Bai made his decision in three seconds. It was the dead of night, pitch-black outside; rushing in to reinforce blindly before restoring communications was a terrible idea. Looking only at the flashing markers on the map, they didn't even know how many teammates were left alive. The urgent priority was to reach the crate, get their equipment, deploy the radio on high ground, and re-establish communications across this sector and with headquarters. As for Brother Jieyan... Lao Bai chose to trust his teammates. "All right!" Ye Shi nodded and promptly followed behind Lao Bai, stepping over piles of construction rubble as they slipped out of the abandoned building. While they moved quickly away from the firefight, the surrounding district had already descended into chaos. Gripping his assault rifle, Greyhound fired a burst into the alley ahead, his face pale with lingering terror. A few minutes earlier. On the way to his relief post, Greyhound had been wondering how those blue gophers could possibly sneak-attack them. Yet before he even reached the post, he watched a dark mass plummet from the sky and slam into the ground with a sickening thud. The entire team had only two flashlights, while the rest carried torches. Anything further away was pitch-black and impossible to see. The loud crash startled everyone. Greyhound quickly shone his flashlight over, only to see a puddle of crushed meat. Across the cracked concrete street, red and white were smeared into a pulpy mess, barely recognizable as human without a close look. The previously calm Greyhound was instantly stunned, unable to grasp what had happened. Yet there was no time left for him to think. Almost the instant the flashlight turned on, tongues of fire sprayed from the alley directly opposite. Muzzle flashes danced across the street. Caught completely unprepared by the sudden barrage, the brother walking in the lead was riddled with holes and dropped on the spot. The rest dropped their torches, scrambling for cover to return fire. The street was in utter pandemonium. Not just the gunfire. There were also teammates' frantic shouts. "Dammit, I took one in the arm!" "That's a Pu-9! These aren't guerrillas!" "The New Alliance?! How is that possible?! The... the blue jackets have pushed this far?!" Who were the attackers? Where had these people come from?! Rumors flew, and the ambushed patrol was jittery as startled birds. "Quick! Call for reinforcements!" Hearing the frantic yells of the squad leader hiding in a storefront window, Greyhound, though terrified out of his wits behind a car wreck, summoned the courage to crawl over, grab the flare gun tossed by the squad leader, and fire a shot into the sky. With a long screech, a green flare soared upward. Though the faint light wasn't enough to illuminate the street, it restored a shred of morale to the surrounding brothers. Meanwhile, upon spotting the flare, an encampment stationed two kilometers away immediately dispatched trucks, and a hundred-man unit bearing long guns and heavy weapons rushed toward the combat zone. Greyhound and the marauders beside him weren't the only ones baffled; crouching in the alley across from them, Jieyan was just as bewildered. He had originally intended to rendezvous with nearby teammates. Having just met up with Lost Noob, they were about to link up with Corner Camper when they bumped head-on into the marauder patrol. Jieyan had sensed something was off at the time. Brother Corner Camper was being way too calm; the patrol was almost in his face, yet his marker sat motionless in the middle of the road. However... By the time he realized something was wrong, it was too late. The enemy flashlight beamed straight at them. Lost Noob beside him assumed their position was blown and, without a second thought, pulled the trigger, spraying an entire magazine. The clatter, like an old typewriter, instantly detonated the powder keg of the entire street. The enemy had been caught off guard at first, but quickly reacted, pinning them down behind cover and trading fire. "Are you fucking crazy?! We only have four magazines between the two of us!" Yanked back and yelled at by Jieyan, Lost Noob gradually realized he had caused a disaster and said nervously, "Wh-what do we do now..." Jieyan didn't answer. He pulled the pin on a grenade, cooked it for a few seconds, and tossed it out, driving back the marauders who were about to leave cover and push up. Next, he quickly raised his barrel and sprayed a burst into the storefront window down the street, dropping a marauder who had almost reached the alley mouth. The scene was pure chaos. By the light of the torches dropped on the street, he finally got a clear look at the smear of ruined meat and couldn't help smacking his lips. Damn. The head was completely smashed to bits! Recalling the harrowing experience of his own drop earlier, Jieyan could roughly guess what Brother Corner Camper had encountered a few minutes ago. Either his chute didn't open. Or he opened it way too late... "What else can we do?" Swapping magazines, Jieyan cursed, "Fall back first!" Heading to the rally point was out of the question. Leading the marauders there wouldn't just screw themselves over; it would screw their teammates too. No matter how good they were in a fight, taking on ten-to-one odds was impossible. All they could do now was run as far from the drop zone as possible, drawing the marauders away. Only after their teammates recovered the supply crates, set up the radio, and restored communications in this sector would they have any hope of mounting an effective defense, or even calling in air support. In fact, they weren't the only squad to get into a firefight with the marauders. Roughly three kilometers away, near the ruins of a power plant, two unlucky players had drifted off course during their descent and landed right next to a Fang Clan sentry post in the southern part of the city. Both sides were stunned. And both instinctively pulled their triggers. At this moment, the Goblin Corps Air Squadron had just returned to the north of Dawn City. Standing at the edge of the airfield, scrolling through the player roster, Chu Guang paused slightly. "Another one dead?" A total of twenty-two players had jumped in the first wave. At this moment, only fourteen remained online—a survival rate of just sixty-three percent. Though that last death... Didn't look like a fall. Since the morphogenetic field connection didn't rely on electromagnetic waves, Chu Guang could still track the players' general directions and login statuses even without restored radio communications. Agility-type players had the highest survival rate, followed by Constitution-type, then Perception. Gazing at the silent night sky to the north, Chu Guang murmured softly to himself, "A fight's probably broken out." Though it was a bit earlier than expected, it didn't matter. The objective of this operation was simply to create chaos for the Fang Clan; the specific methods didn't matter. Xizhou City was likely already in an uproar. For the marauders stationed in Xizhou City, tonight was bound to be an unforgettable night. Not far away, guided by runway lights, the Goblin Corps planes touched down on the tarmac one after another. Tearing his gaze away from the north, Chu Guang looked at Wrench standing beside him and ordered, "Have the ground crew and the second echelon of paratroopers get ready. We start the second drop in half an hour!" Wrench snapped to attention with a salute and answered crisply, "Yes, sir!"