Eternal "Love"

Amateur Anti-Bun: "It stopped?!" Galaxy Dreams Not: "What's going on?" Luo Yu: "I have no clue! I put on the helmet and watched the countdown, but as the timer ticked down, it just froze. QAQ" Qing Feng: "???" Galaxy Dreams Not: "Scared the shit out of me. I hurried and put mine on to check—luckily I'm fine." Gui Gui: "That's weird. Weren't you two on the same plane?" Galaxy Dreams Not: "I don't know!! (dying of laughter) (doge face)" Luo Yu: "(rage)" In Wasteland OL, getting an airplane into the sky wasn't news. Any fool could pull a flight stick and stomp on the accelerator; bringing the plane back in one piece was what made someone truly impressive. At first, when everyone heard that Luo Yu had crashed yet another plane, nobody thought much of it, even spamming "basic gameplay, don't hype it" in the public chat. Yet when they heard that his respawn countdown was stuck, the players spamming "666" couldn't keep it up anymore, and all the pilots in the forum exploded into the thread. Everyone voiced their disbelief and demanded proof. However, the agonizing quirk of this game lay right here: images weren't projected onto the retina at all, bypassing the optic nerve entirely to feed directly into the brain. Unless someone was the helmet's registered owner, even another player with closed-beta access couldn't see a single thing upon putting it on. In other words, shoving a smartphone inside the helmet to take a picture wouldn't work. Fang Chang had already tried that trick back when he first received his helmet. Ye Shi: "Impossible. Sure, Brother Guang sucks at games and can be a bit petty, but he's undeniably upright and aboveboard in how he does things. If he really banned your account, he wouldn't freeze your respawn cooldown. Put the helmet back on and take another look. Maybe it's just lagging?" Kuang Feng: "Ah Guang: I'll remember that. (side-eye)" Ye Shi: "Brother Guang, I was wrong! (awkward)" Makabazi: "Hahaha! Coward! Hahahaha! Weakling!" Fang Chang: "Could it be a bug? I'll ask around for you." Mosquito: "What bug? He's definitely hacking! Bro, spill it, where did you buy the cheats? How much a month? (smirk)" Luo Yu: "Fuck! This game doesn't even have an operating system! How the hell could anyone hack it?! (raging)" Teng Teng: "So tragic..." Yaya: "For real. Usually, when Ah Guang locks someone in the dark room, it's only for seventy-two hours. Tough it out and it passes, at least with some light at the end of the tunnel. A frozen respawn countdown... sounds like a ghost story. (╯﹏╰)b" WC Really Has Mosquitoes: "What? Yaya got locked in the dark room by Ah Guang???" In Debt God: "I bet Ah Guang is in the dark room with her!!" Scavenger Lv99: "Giao! Spread the rumor for Tail!" Yaya: "???" As the victim continuously broadcasted his "withdrawal symptoms," the thread stacked higher and higher, soon becoming the top trending post on the forum. Both active players and forum onlookers flocked in to join the commotion. Amid the clamor of the spectators, Ah Guang, who had played dead for five minutes, finally popped up. "Ahem. Everyone please calm down. Because no player in this game had ever been killed by a nuclear bomb until now, a minor bug occurred in the memory program, but it's no big deal! I have already reported the bug to the technical department. My colleagues in tech said they'll send a couple of plumbers over in a bit to check it out." Luo Yu: "What do you mean 'no big deal'?! (furious)" Guang: "Naturally, for the affected account, we will provide a certain amount of compensation. As for the compensation package, it's currently under review, but it should be a very special reward... I'll hold a meeting with my colleagues shortly to discuss it." Luo Yu: "Big brother!!! (thrilled)" WC Really Has Mosquitoes: "Holy shit? There's compensation?!" Jieyan: "Is it too late for me to get nuked right now???" Fang Chang: "Ahem, just asking... where near Ideal City can I find a nuke? No particular reason, mostly just feeling a bit homesick." Reading the replies on the forum, Chu Guang's brow twitched. *These guys...* *Can't they show a little self-respect?!* Still, a player being unable to log in was indeed a major problem. Impacting player experience was trivial compared to triggering an emergency mission. The morphogenetic field was the greatest trump card in the Alliance's hands. The only uncertainty right now was whether this situation was caused by external factors or because the shelter had judged the clone body to be a hazard and proactively severed the connection. Regardless of which scenario it was, such an unstable factor had to be eliminated with top priority! At that thought, Chu Guang immediately gave the order. "Xiao Qi, issue a mission to all players near those coordinates. Have them scout the vicinity of the site and retrieve the pilot's remains." Xiao Qi reminded him in a small voice, "Master, that coordinate zone is outside our communication range." Chu Guang paused slightly. "Haven't they logged off yet?" "Maybe they're celebrating their recent victory?" Xiao Qi ventured uncertainly. *Hmm...* That was certainly possible. After a moment of thought, Chu Guang ordered, "Copy the mission data onto the VM of player 'WC Really Has Mosquitoes' and have him fly an aircraft to deliver it to them." Since the beta era, the players' operational range had expanded steadily, and the proportion of players operating outside Alliance communication range for long stretches had neared six percent. Chu Guang had Xiao Qi upgrade the VM's software program. Not only could players accept offline missions from the shelter via the official website, but their VMs could also function as mission transceivers, synchronizing NPC-preset missions to nearby players' task logs under specific circumstances. The range for issuing missions this way was very short, usually serving merely as an emergency measure. Xiao Qi, perched on the desk, tilted her head. "Is it fine even if it's beyond the return flight range?" Chu Guang gave a faint smile. "Doesn't matter. Losing one plane isn't a problem. Have him pack a folding bicycle into the cabin and just land on any flat ground." *** North of Petra Fortress. The marketplace outside the city gate was currently decked with lanterns and banners, packed with bustling crowds, radiant with an atmosphere like a roaring hearth. The clinking of glasses extended from the taverns all the way out onto the street. Drunks draped arms over one another's shoulders, shouting in slurred voices. "Long live the kingdom!" "Long live the Spirit of the Sand Sea!" "A toast to the Divine Emissary!" "Hahaha! No going home sober tonight!" There was no curfew for the entire night. The fortress lord had proclaimed that as long as they wished, they could drink until dawn. Tonight alone, the patrolling guards would not chase these drunken revellers back home; they merely stood by watching to prevent anyone from causing trouble after drinking too much. Just hours earlier, they had vanquished the invincible Legion, prevented the curse and calamity threatening Oasis No. 4, and safeguarded the peace of the kingdom. Rumor had it that the day after tomorrow, His Majesty the King would grace the fortress in person to bestow commendations for their valor. The kingdom's Grand Priest would arrive as well to meet that kind and benevolent Divine Emissary. By now, no one harbored any doubt regarding the Divine Emissary's identity. Every soldier and militia member who had taken part in the battle had witnessed what transpired in Lost Valley. That brilliance shattering the cloud canopy and the world-ending pillar of flame and air were, beyond all doubt, the very apocalypse depicted in the *Silver Moon Holy Words*! While the populace remained immersed in the joy of triumph and surviving disaster, an airplane appeared in the northern night sky, catching the eye of a patrolling guard. "What is that?" A light flashed in the air. He immediately raised his binoculars to look, spotting an aircraft painted with a shark mouth flying toward them with its headlights on. Those bloody teeth looked menacing at a glance, and in the tales of Silver Moon Bay's sailors, sharks were terrifying beasts. The guard turned alert at once and reported the sighting to the patrol captain. Hearing the report, the captain dared not dally, barking an immediate order, "Cavalry squad, assemble! Ride out with me to check it out!" The aircraft did not head straight for Petra Fortress, instead touching down on the northern sand dunes. A squad of cavalry surged out of the city gates in a grand column, closing in on the aircraft's landing site. Just as Mosquito climbed out of the cockpit, he saw a ring of cavalrymen bearing carbines surrounding him. The murderous array caught him off guard. Snapping back to his senses, he quickly yanked out the Alliance flag stowed in the cockpit. "Don't shoot! Friendly!" *** Inside the fortress lord's estate. Within the granite hall, an orchestra played elegant, flowing melodies. Nobles and dignitaries dressed in sumptuous attire drank freely, celebrating the hard-won victory. Guests bustled back and forth along long tables laden with pottery filled with fine wine, alongside platters heaped with roasted, crisped chicken legs, legs of lamb, beef, and an array of bizarre vegetables and fruits. The variety of food here was extraordinarily rich, abundant to an outrageous degree. Seated at the long tables, the Skeleton Corps players gave full play to the spirit of cleaning their plates. Every single one turned into a bottomless pit, stuffing their faces and downing drink after drink, all while muttering among themselves. "Man, if we bought some cattle and sheep from here to ship back, we'd make a fortune!" "Save that for when we head back. Later we still have to rendezvous with the main force on the southwest flank of Lion Kingdom, then march north to liberate Honey Badger Kingdom... There's a whole heap of events waiting ahead." "When do we set out?" "Depends on when the logistics convoy arrives. We can't just drive tanks straight across the desert." "By the way, I think the princess of Honey Badger Kingdom is genuinely pretty." "Damn it, why isn't the Administrator interested!" "Why do you care about that?" "I freaking placed a bet on it!" "Damn..." As reinforcements from the Alliance, they received lavish hospitality from the lord of Petra Fortress. Whether on account of those fifteen tanks that had sent the Legion scurrying like rats, or because the majority of these warriors were Awakened, they were well worthy of such respect. Benefits did not necessarily have to be won through war, but strength would always serve as the foundation of respect. No one minded their ravenous, starved-ghost manners. Even a traditional noble like Ruskin, who insisted on the proper angle and pressure when cutting a steak, chose to turn a blind eye to their uncouth behavior at the banquet. Instead, he found himself deeply impressed and respectful of their unrestrained demeanor and monstrous appetites. The capitulation faction of Camel Hump Kingdom differed slightly from that of Golden Lizard Kingdom. The latter was driven by tangled interests, whereas the former merely worshipped raw military might and abhorred instability. If the Alliance could defeat the Legion on the open battlefield, they certainly didn't mind kneeling in a different direction. "Spirit of the Sand Sea above... that man just stuffed at least half a lamb into his stomach!" "Where does all that food even go?" "The guy over there ate five whole chickens!" "Incredible... how utterly barbaric." "Barbaric? You call that barbaric! If I could eat five roast chickens in one sitting, I'd eat with my bare hands too!" "Precisely. Tearing into meat by the fistful—that is a warrior's elegance... At most, it is merely a difference in culture." "With so many valiant, battle-hardened warriors, no wonder the Alliance dares to lock horns with the Legion!" While the idle nobles marvelled in shock, whispering among themselves about whether to pick a couple of sons-in-law to refine the collateral bloodlines, Sisi on the other side seemed to have run into trouble. Lord Saien had walked up before her. This brawny man had a bandage wrapped around his arm. Slightly tipsy from wine, his stubble-covered, naturally imposing face carried a ruddy glow. "May I ask if you have a husband?" "No. Why?" "A fiancé, then?" "...What's this about?" "May I court you?" Hearing that, Sesame Paste, who was drinking milk nearby, nearly spit it out. Tail and Rou Rou, who were competing over who could eat more chicken legs, instantly halted their duel and raised their heads in sheer excitement. "Ooh! Sisi just got proposed to by an NPC!" "Spread the word! Sisi's having a baby!" Sisi froze on the spot. "...Huh?" Taking those indecipherable cheers as encouragement, Saien gazed unblinkingly at her, sincere affection gleaming in his eyes. "...I know speaking like this may seem abrupt, but I cannot keep these feelings buried in my heart. Your beauty and courage have captivated me. Will you grant me the chance to pursue your favor?" "If you are still angry with me over previous matters, I offer my humblest apologies." Sisi stared blankly at him. "I'm not mad, really... but don't you already have a wife?" The bearded man smiled sheepishly, answering with a hint of bashfulness, "Only three... but that is of no consequence. There is no love between them and me, merely political alliances." Sisi: "..." Tail: "Giao!" Rou Rou whispered, "Tail, how... how do we spread this rumor?" Tail rubbed her chin in deep contemplation. Suddenly her eyes lit up, but before the words could spill from her mouth, Sesame Paste clamped a hand over it with a sweet smile, leaving only muffled whines escaping through her fingers. "No lewd thoughts, Tail." Paying no heed to her friends' antics, Sisi recovered from her speechlessness and sighed. "I'm sorry. You're a good person." Granted, there was no need to take things too seriously in a game, but this fellow fell far too short of her ideal type. Even setting aside the aesthetic flair of *Love and Producer*, he ought to at least resemble the Administrator—tall, imposing, handsome, and impeccably dignified... Well, the first two didn't truly matter; what she really wanted was to watch a dignified man get broken into an undignified mess. That delicious gap between surface and reality was far more thrilling. Saien froze, looking utterly baffled, his brain unable to make sense of the response. *A good person...* *Then why apologize?* *** On the other side of the banquet hall. Brother Mole poured himself a cup of wine and looked at the dizzying array of roasted meats on the table, letting out a wistful sigh. "If only Old Na were here." Food was abundant here, but cooking styles were pitifully scarce. Whatever meat it was, it was simply dusted with spices, shoved into an oven, and served laid over vegetable leaves. Beyond that were all sorts of fruits—some similar to what could be found in the real world, others he had never seen before. He had heard that in the nearby desert stretches, there were sandworms taller than city walls. If Old Na were here, he would surely be ecstatic. A millurion sitting nearby assumed Mole was trying to strike up a conversation. Unable to understand what he said, the officer offered an apologetic look. "Pardon, what did you say?" "Nothing. I said... how wonderful it would be if my dear brother Old Na were here," Brother Mole repeated leisurely in the Human Alliance language. "He..." The millurion's Adam's apple bobbed. Guessing something from his expression, the officer broke off. "Dead." Finishing the unspoken word for him, Brother Mole let out a mournful, wine-scented burp and narrated the events of dusk with dramatic flair. "To buy me time, he drove his tank forward on his own initiative, acting as bait to draw the enemy's fire. In the end, he took a direct hit from a Legion tank shell... When the battle ended and I walked over to check, not even an intact body was left inside." The millurion fell silent for a moment. The hulking man patted Mole's shoulder, offering deep, solemn comfort, "...Do not grieve too deeply. The Spirit of the Sand Sea will remember his valor. Dying for sacred honor, his soul shall enter the Eternal Oasis." "I'm not grieving. What is there to grieve about?" Brother Mole shook his head, taking a leisurely sip of red wine. "Once I fall asleep in a bit, I'll see the guy anyway." Hearing that, the people around fell into a hush. The millurion sniffled, and a young noble lady standing nearby secretly dabbed at the corner of her eye. Marching far into a foreign land to fight, only for one's comrade-in-arms to fall at the final moment before dawn, unable to share the sweet wine of victory. That facade of bravery pulled at everyone's heartstrings. Yet none of them knew that every single word this brother spoke was the honest truth. Once the banquet ended, he would find a place to lie down, log off, and brag on the official forum with that bunch of idiots. Completely true! The millurion offered no more empty words of comfort, merely raising his cup to clink against Brother Mole's. "The Alliance will forever be our friend. I will remember this bond. May our friendship last for eternity!" His tone was profoundly earnest and sincere. Brother Mole grinned, clinking his cup back. "May our friendship last for eternity!" Just as the words left his mouth, the banquet hall doors swung open. Amid the graceful music, a guard clad in body armor strode briskly up to Lord Saien. "My lord, an aircraft has landed on the gravel plains north of Petra. The pilot who disembarked claims to be from the Alliance." Still reeling from being given the good-guy card, Saien had yet to figure out why he had been rejected. Yet upon hearing the guard's report, he immediately set aside romantic woes and turned solemn. "Invite him in." The guard snapped to attention, saluted, and hurried away. Saien cleared his throat, fetched the corps commander named Brother Mole, and walked with him to the banquet hall entrance. Soon, the pilot was led inside. Wearing an aviator cap stitched from hyena pelt, Mosquito laid eyes upon the dazzling spread of delicacies and fine wine the moment he stepped through the door. His eyes went wide instantly. "Holy shit! I was bleeding my guts out on the front lines, and you guys are eating like royalty!" Bleeding his guts out was pure bragging. The battle this afternoon had been completely trivial. The enemy planes hadn't even had the chance to close in for a dogfight before being wiped out by a single salvo of artillery from the Administrator. It was the sweetest easy farming he had ever enjoyed, far smoother than the Bone Chewer tribe campaign. Seeing his country-bumpkin display, Brother Mole hurriedly coughed. "Don't go embarrassing the Alliance... Anyway, what are you doing here?" "Hehe," Mosquito raised an eyebrow, beaming with pride. "The Lord Administrator personally dispatched me to deliver a message." With that, he tapped his VM twice with an index finger. Shortly after, a faint vibration synchronized onto Brother Mole's arm. [Mission 1: Investigate the crash site of the "Cloud Dragonfly" ornithopter.] [Mission 2: Retrieve the body (or remains) of pilot Luo Yu.] The moment Brother Mole saw those two missions, he was stunned. Retrieving the remains was something else. Good grief, after taking a direct hit from a megaton-yield three-phase bomb, what remains could possibly be left... Would there even be a couple of ounces of ash? "...Isn't this asking the impossible?" he couldn't help but grumble. Mosquito chuckled. "I think so too. Guess only our buddy Qiangren Suonan could find that." Brother Mole asked, "No, wait... what's the point of wanting that stuff?" Mosquito: "Hell if I know! But issuing this mission makes sense in a way. You haven't logged off, so you probably don't know—our bro Luo Yu seems to have been nuked right into a bug." Brother Mole: "Holy shit?!" *This game actually has bugs?* *No wonder they patch it every single update...* Mosquito continued, "Anyway, Ah Guang is contacting the tech department for emergency repairs, but he probably didn't notify the in-game NPCs, so the Administrator sent his most loyal Lord Mosquito to check it out." Brother Mole: "..." Mosquito grinned. "Give me a lift when you guys head out, huh? I'm pretty curious too. Mostly, I've never seen what someone looks like after getting nuked." Completely unable to understand their conversation, a bewildered Lord Saien was about to inquire what they were talking about when Sisi stepped out from the banquet hall and addressed him. "A new revelation. The evil spirits awakened by the Legion have not been completely sealed. We must attend to the barrier sealing the curse... The Divine Emissary just told me." Evidently, she had received the mission as well, along with the rest of the White Bear Knights. Hearing Sisi's words, Saien showed no awkwardness over his prior rejection, instead knitting his brows with a grave expression. "Yet a heavy curse currently blankets the Lost Lands. The negative energy there is enough to wither grass and trees unless we use—" "We brought anti-radiation drugs and radiation suits. It's no problem." Looking at the young woman before him, Saien asked earnestly, "Must you go?" Sisi spouted nonsense with a straight face, "This is for the safety of the residents of Petra Fortress. We must ensure the curse there is permanently sealed... The Divine Emissary said this is her obligation and her duty. She hopes you can understand." Saien remained silent for a while before nodding. "I understand. I will arrange a guide for you." "Good luck to you all." Standing nearby, Brother Mole and Mosquito exchanged glances, each seeing the shock in the other's eyes. "Impressive..." "Sick." Spouting utter nonsense with a deadpan face, without even blushing—and the best part was that the guy actually bought it! She truly had some skills... *** Lost Valley. Deep within a dark, cavernous tunnel lay a chamber cluttered with bottles and jars. Were it not for a few malfunctioning terminals and the culture vats connected to them, one would never have guessed it was a laboratory. White Pigeon, whose face was as hideous and mottled as a swamp, stroked his chin in sheer bewilderment, staring at the young man lying unconscious on the iron cot as he mumbled to himself. "This makes no sense." Cardiopulmonary function had resumed, yet the person simply wouldn't wake up, as though his soul were missing. Bloody bizarre. In all his long life, this was the first time he had witnessed something so strange... Rewinding the clock a few hours. Some idiot outside had detonated a nuclear warhead, collapsing half the nearby mountainside and nearly burying him alive. Fortunately, the center of the explosion had occurred in the very middle of the valley, nearly ten kilometers away from his mountain fortification. Fortunately, substantial alloy framing remained within the ruins of the river embankment, shielding against a portion of the high-energy radiation. If not for all those "fortunatelies," Xiao Hong, the broodmother, might have been the sole survivor. Though he had pulled through thanks to his tremendous regenerative power, that mortal flesh-and-blood fellow hadn't been so lucky. The high-energy rays had instantly riddled his internal macromolecules like a sieve, causing massive necrosis across his organic tissues. Left unattended, this fellow would undoubtedly have been stone dead. Considering it fate that brought them together, White Pigeon decided to lend him a hand, directing Xiao Hong to produce a Seed of Life to bestow upon him. The so-called Seed of Life was a name White Pigeon had coined himself. In truth, it was simply mycelium budded off from the broodmother. Yet unlike slime molds in other regions, this "symbiotic slime mold" neither drained the host's own nutrition nor devoured the host to seek its own evolution, much less transformed the host into one of its kind. Instead, it sacrificed its autonomous consciousness, integrating itself into the host as part of their body, granting immense capabilities, and slowly replacing aged, dying, and non-replicating cells over the coming years, keeping the host in a permanently healthy, youthful state. Just like an all-embracing, selfless love! In this symbiotic relationship, the host would completely break free from the shackles of age. Rather than growing sluggish from senescence, they would grow stronger as the years passed. For the longer one lived, the more cells would be replaced. And because the "symbiotic slime mold" possessed no independent consciousness, even after every cell in the body had undergone a full cycle of replacement, the host's autonomous consciousness would remain intact. As for the price the young man had worried about... In White Pigeon's view, it couldn't be called a price at all. No known form of life could escape metabolism. Whether organic or inorganic, worn-out parts had to be replaced periodically. Even without any external factors, the cells of a human body were completely renewed roughly every six years. That was merely normal metabolism, never altering the fact that a person remained the same person. The symbiotic slime mold living within him was likewise subject to metabolism. The sole difference was that slime mold could proliferate infinitely, whereas human somatic cells were constrained by telomeres, gradually failing as the river of time flowed on. Yet the symbiotic slime mold would never disdain his aging; eternal "love" would surround him always. Even if every cell in his body rotted away, he could still stand here like a healthy youth, not only retaining agile thought, but even propagating offspring with his own DNA. It was nothing short of a biological miracle! As for whether he was currently White Pigeon, or some slime mold fruiting body named White Pigeon, it didn't matter in the least to him. The one governing this body was still himself. Thought was the very essence of human existence! The flesh was merely a vessel to house the mind! What was more, this gradual, gentle transformation—replacing only a few cells at a time—was far more dependable than crudely destroying the physical form to upload one's mind onto a circuit board. Had this been the Prosperity Era, his research would undoubtedly have ranked among the greatest discoveries of that age! "Ee-woo?" Xiao Hong, standing in the laboratory, tilted her head. Her smooth, rounded tentacles, resembling dolphin snouts, drifted gently behind her head, floating like seaweed. Confusion was written across the indistinct contours of her facial features, mirroring White Pigeon beside the cot. "You don't understand either?" White Pigeon sighed, scratching the back of his rotted head. Xiao Hong nodded. Right then, however, she suddenly looked toward the laboratory entrance. The tentacles floating behind her head tightened slightly as a crisp sound drifted out. "Ee-woo." "You're saying someone's coming?" White Pigeon muttered, looking at Xiao Hong's nod, then glanced again at the motionless young man lying on the cot. Lately, people had been rummaging around in Lost Valley—perhaps Academy prospectors, perhaps other treasure hunters. Truth be told, he had little interest in them and cared even less. Yet recalling the nuclear warhead that had detonated earlier, he let out a sigh and cracked his stiff neck with his hands. "Wait here a moment... I'll go outside and take a look."