The Situation at the Front Is Splendid

As it turned out, these guys truly were "crazy." On the first day, fewer than twenty percent of the hundred-plus squads deployed to the front lines by the Alliance held out to the end. Yet by the second day, over fifty more squads had stepped up to replace them. Seeing the Alliance lose momentum, the Human Sovereign had initially gloated in secret. When the squads sent to the front were cut by half again on the third day, he figured those lunatics weren't truly infinite after all. Even the Wilantes' mindless clone cannon fodder took two years to grow, let alone fully sapient human beings like the ones the Alliance dispatched to the front lines. With casualties so staggering, war weariness within the Alliance would surely erupt before long. Wastelanders were opportunistic drifters at heart; if anyone forced them into a meat grinder, they would bolt without a second thought. On the fourth day, precisely as he had predicted, vast swathes of the blossoming battle lines fell silent. Only a handful of heavily manned positions were left fighting tooth and nail. Though the incubation chambers on those few positions posed a nuisance, they couldn't hold out long on their own. Under relentless assault, following in the footsteps of the fallen positions was merely a matter of time. Yet just as he was waiting with keen interest to see what the Alliance would do on the fifth day, the sun rose over the horizon—and left him utterly dumbfounded. Before him stretched an endless, surging tide of people, rifles and banners standing thick across the hills like a forest! The vanished men had reappeared. And there were even more of them than on the first day! Their gazes were resolute and their strides unwavering as they pressed shoulder to shoulder into Haiya Province. It was as if they had no idea what kind of place this was—or perhaps they knew, and simply didn't care at all. The combat power these people unleashed astonished him just as much. When dawn gave way to dusk, the proportion of positions holding out wasn't merely twenty percent—it exceeded forty percent! The positions that had been tottering on the brink of collapse stood firm once again with the arrival of these reinforcements, and by utilizing incubation chambers carrying the Strain B fungal variant, they even completed the purification of the ground beneath their feet. It was as though these people grew stronger the more they fought! This was what baffled the Human Sovereign the most. On the other flank, the Legion's forces also began advancing, following the Alliance's blueprint to establish ten defensive positions in the northern reaches of Haiya Province. Not to be outdone, the Academy and Enterprise did the same, deploying squads to set up over a dozen positions centered around incubation chambers. Purging the corruption across the Weifu Wasteland while infiltrating into Haiya Province, the coalition steadily squeezed the Church of the Torch's living space. Staring slack-jawed at everything unfolding across the front lines, the "Human Sovereign" stood with his mouth slightly agape, unable to utter a single word for the longest time. *Are these bastards suicidal?!* ... In truth, not only did the Forerunners of the Church of the Torch think these fellows were insane, but even many high-ranking coalition officers found them rather absurd. Then again, who didn't have a few little secrets of their own these days? Their own secrets were no fewer than the Alliance's, so even if they thought it was bizarre, it wasn't appropriate to pry. Besides, it wasn't as if any of this was underhanded or shameful. Consequently, they could only speculate based on limited intelligence and report their guesses up the chain of command—suggesting things like the Alliance possessing a black box capable of mass-producing bioroids, or remote-control cloning technology. As for resurrection... Such a thing sounded far too absurd. Plenty of such rumors circulated in Dawn City, but serious assessments required evidence, so hardly anyone even considered that direction. Junior officers and enlisted men didn't think that far ahead. Many of them were fighting so far from home for the first time and had little grasp of local affairs. Guided by their first impressions, their attitude toward the Alliance's hardcases was mostly one of respect and awe. After all, fierce fighters and men who looked death in the face weren't rare, but seeing so many of them gathered in one place was still a shock to witness... ... North of the Weifu Military Base. With the launch of the coalition's new offensive, Kun Town, having just weathered the baptism of war, bustled with life once more. A dense thicket of stalls choked the town's south gate. Some vendors had gone to great lengths to decorate their booths to attract customers, while rough-hewn wastelanders simply led two-headed oxen or parked tricycles to serve as makeshift stands. The farthest vendors had even come from Bolo Province. The wastelanders settled here hadn't packed up and left after the previous catastrophe. Instead, seeing the Alliance's performance in that battle and the shelter it provided only solidified their resolve to stay. After all, where in the wasteland could anyone find absolute safety? No one could have guessed that a wasteland bathed in bright sunlight one moment would turn into a death-choked hell the next. In theory, something like that could happen anywhere in the wasteland. The crucial factor wasn't whether danger struck, but whether it was handled properly afterward. To survivors battered by the wasteland, the Alliance's power to restore order in the face of crisis was a security guarantee in itself. Beyond that, another reason keeping them here was cold, hard silver coins. With reinforcements pouring in from every faction of the Slime Mold Community, the town was livelier than ever. Vendors hawked their wares in a roaring, energetic scene. If not for the lingering grayish-green fog in the distance, no one would have guessed that a catastrophe had swept through here less than half a month ago. Yet even if it had, as far as the people living here were concerned, it was already in the past. "Roasted corn! Fresh corn on the cob!" "Scimitars forged in the Honey Badger Kingdom! Razor-sharp, cuts iron like clay! Only a hundred silver coins each!" "Buy a goat, milord! The mountain road ahead is treacherous. Who knows when the Alliance will finish building the railway out there?" "What era are you living in, still using beasts to haul cargo?! What do you need delivered to the front? Any brother in our regiment can do the work of two oxen!" "Holy crap, what kind of brothers do you have...? Sounds more like pack mules." "LD-47s! Full sets of LD gear! The most durable hardware on the battlefield... straight out of the game *Battle Royale*!!" "Give me two of 'em!!" "Right away! Which model would you like, sir?" "Two LD-47s!" "Picking one up for a friend?" "Friend my ass, I'm dual-wielding!" "...Sick." The dizzying variety didn't stop at the stalls and bustling crowds; it extended to the merchandise being peddled. Some sold weapons, some sold clothes, others roasted sweet potatoes and spuds, and still others hawked odd little trinkets. There were secret elixirs said to awaken powers with a single sip, and booster packs of "Kun cards" hiding a Blue-Eyes White Dragon. The latter in particular—those colorful cards—were an obsession for the Ideal City slackers. Without the Endpoint Cloud, they had nowhere to brag online, so they needed an alternative to spark conversation. As for the Wilantes, their tastes remained unchanged. Over a hundred thousand troops from the Legion nearly cleaned out the local supply of hard liquor. In particular, the "Big Bird Whirly Vodka" produced by Goblin Tech was a smash hit among lower-ranking Wilante officers and soldiers. Because the stuff was distilled from potatoes, they drank so much of it that potato prices across the Alliance spiked. Compared to the steady demands of the Ideal City slackers and the Wilantes, the tastes of the vault dwellers from the Alliance were utterly inscrutable. Newcomers who clearly looked fresh off the boat were especially obsessed with flashy items that were practically useless. For instance, the merchandise Goblin Tech hauled out to sell—especially the wares their boss hawked in person—consisted almost entirely of such junk. After all, if those things were truly practical, the CEO, chairman, and factory head wouldn't have needed to step out and pitch them himself. "Tch, a bunch of rubes who wouldn't know quality if it bit 'em!" Watching the lively stalls nearby, WC Really Has Mosquitoes wore a sour scowl and couldn't resist a bitter mutter. Passing by just then, In Debt God glanced at the wares on his stall and nearly burst out laughing. The six-barreled pistol and double-barreled assault rifle were relatively normal—at most sporting eccentric, or rather retro, designs. As for things like a mobile bunker welded to a tricycle, an automatic magazine-reloader built for the LD-47, and a personal rocket pack that only went up with no way down, one couldn't help but question his mental stability. "Man, are you selling circus props?" Looking at the miserable Mosquito, In Debt God teased. Mosquito rolled his eyes. "What do you know? This is art! Don't touch if you aren't buying!" Setting the six-barreled pistol back onto the stall, Dayan sighed softly and adopted the air of an expert. "In my book, something only counts as art if most people can appreciate it. Take the artwork at Tengteng's Cabin, for example—now that's good stuff." Mosquito gave a flat chuckle. "Go say that to Tengteng and see if she doesn't bash your head in." "Hey, this piece of gear looks pretty neat..." Construction Site Boy and Bricks picked up a steel shield, examining the sinister, crimson patch of creep on its surface with keen interest. "What's this thing used for?" "A brother with an eye for quality!" Seeing someone finally take an interest in his work, Mosquito's eyes lit up, and he beamed with fawning enthusiasm. "This baby is forged with self-repairing materials! Not only is its durability maxed out, but it can also absorb organic matter from the outside to boost defense and coverage!" "Holy crap?! Damage absorption?!" Construction Site Boy and Bricks looked at him in surprise, and even Dayan, who looked down on the stall's wares, raised an eyebrow. "How much is it?" Mosquito grinned cheekily. "Cheap, cheap! Just one thousand silver coins!" Dayan, who had just found it somewhat intriguing, nearly coughed up a mouthful of blood at the price. "What the hell?! A thousand silver coins isn't expensive?!" That was enough to buy ten underlings!! "It really is a bit steep," Construction Site Boy and Bricks agreed, muttering, "I remember a ceramic-steel shield only costs about a thousand silver coins." "Can that junk hold a candle to my creation?" Mosquito sneered dismissively. "If my shield gets punched through, it repairs itself. Can that other thing fix itself once it's pierced?" Just as he was thinking Brother Mosquito had actually invented something useful, In Debt God suddenly had an epiphany. *Wait a second!* If a ceramic-steel shield got punched through, would the guy behind it even still be alive? What the hell was the point of self-repair on something like this?! Brick Boy hadn't caught on yet, still turning the oddly shaped shield over to figure out how to use it. After studying it for ages, he still couldn't work out how to strap it onto his arm. Looking at Mosquito with a bewildered expression, Construction Site Boy and Bricks asked, "Did you forget to install a handle? There's nowhere to hold this thing." Seeing that the fellow wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, Mosquito patiently explained, "You're holding it backward. That crimson creep is the handle. Stick your arm against it and it connects right up." Brick Boy jumped in fright, tossing the shield back onto the stall. "Holy shit?! The side with tentacles faces me?!" "...Where else would it face?" Mosquito stared blankly, baffled by the question. "You can't face the meaty side toward the enemy, can you?" In Debt God couldn't resist chiming in. "...I bet that damage absorption is just absorbing you." Realizing he had almost handed over his cash, Construction Site Boy and Bricks flew into a rage. "This is false advertising!" Mosquito shifted his gaze awkwardly, though he had no intention of admitting fault, arguing defensively, "I never said it absorbed from other people." Construction Site Boy and Bricks: "#%*&@!" Furious as they were, neither had suffered any real loss. After hurling a few curses, they turned and walked away. Not long after they left, another group of rookies wandered over to the stall. Spotting unfamiliar faces, Mosquito figured he was finally going to land a sale, and a radiant smile instantly broke across his face. "Brother, excellent taste!" [Feels Inferior to Rick V] looked up, giving the vendor a puzzled glance. "I haven't said I'm buying yet." "Doesn't matter! The fact that you found this spot proves your keen eye," Mosquito chuckled, clapping the newcomer on the shoulder. "Well? Spot any gear you like? I'll give you a twenty-percent discount!" Rick hadn't been terribly interested, but the mention of a discount caught his attention. "Really?" "Guaranteed!" Mosquito grinned, picking up the shield Construction Site Boy and Bricks had just discarded and patting the crimson creep. "Semi-mechanical, semi-biological prosthetic! Not only does it absorb damage and repair itself, but it also trains your Kirin arm. If you're running a Strength build, I highly recommend grabbing one. Works like a charm!" Rick was momentarily tempted, but when he caught sight of the price tag, his interest deflated like a punctured balloon. "This stuff is way too expensive. Got anything... cheap and useful? Something that boosts battlefield survivability, but wouldn't hurt to lose?" Mosquito looked at him in surprise. "Damn, that's quite an absurd ask." Rick asked irritably, "You're running a business—cut the chatter. Do you have it or not?" "Of course I do!" The surprise vanished from Mosquito's face. Grinning broadly, he slung an arm around Rick's shoulder and spoke cheerfully. "When it comes to cheap and practical, look no further than Goblin Tech's unpowered armor... Battle-tested, and I guarantee it fits your criteria to a tee—dirt cheap and dependable!" Rick's eyes lit up. "Really?" "One hundred percent! And not just unpowered armor—I've got plenty of other goodies... Come on, I'll take you to the warehouse to look." With that, Mosquito called over his shoulder to his Rat Clan attendant to watch the stall, then strolled off arm-in-arm with the newcomer toward the warehouse behind the town. Eggged on by the veterans on the forums, he had whipped up plenty of new toys recently, and he had been lamenting the lack of guinea pigs willing to pay for testing. Watching the rookie being led off to the warehouse, passing veteran players silently mourned for him. The coalition brothers thought Alliance fighters were ruthless badasses, but only the players knew that the ones truly badass were those who dared test gear for Brother Mosquito... ... While the players were brainstorming how to tweak their gear and grind mobs more efficiently, Chu Guang, in his role as game developer, focused his attention on the monsters at the front. Aboard the Heart of Steel. Standing on the bridge, Chu Guang wore a faint smile as he surveyed the battlefield through a drone operated by Xiao Qi. "An elephant with an alligator snout, a snake standing a dozen meters tall... Damn, they've even cooked up a 'Godzilla.'" Watching the beast on the screen whip its tail and flip a Chimera armored vehicle onto its back with a single claw, he murmured in admiration, "...Tsk, tsk. These guys really have plenty of tricks up their sleeve." He didn't pay much attention to the tactical details of the battle, focusing instead on his primary duty as the dev— Namely, snapping photos of monsters appearing in the game to update the official website's lore compendium. That way, the players would get the illusion that the trash dev was hard at work. If only to reward that effort, they would grind even harder. In fact, had Torch not pushed so hard to iterate their evolved organism variants, his players might not have been quite this fired up. Of course, the fellow calling himself the "Human Sovereign" was destined never to know that. Five days had passed since the launch of the "Purification Station Event." In those brief five days, the Alliance had established a total of five large purification bases and nearly three hundred small purification stations across northern Haiya Province. The former were primarily maintained by well-established corps like the Storm Corps and Death Corps, while the latter were held by small-to-mid-sized corps and loose convoys. Their numbers fluctuated constantly, with lifespans measured in hours or even minutes. Through the combined efforts of corps and convoys large and small, the Alliance had advanced the front line to within five kilometers north of Laishan City in just seven days, carving out at least seventy square kilometers of territory from Haiya Province's 670,000 square kilometers. Not only that, but the Alliance had also set an example for the other coalition forces, demonstrating precisely how this war ought to be fought. Currently, the Legion's ten divisions were entering the borders of Haiya Province one after another, while Enterprise and the Academy deployed more reinforcements to the front, refusing to be outdone. No doubt they too would soon achieve commendable results. Seeing Chu Guang in high spirits, Xiao Qi felt genuinely happy for him. She swung her little legs from where she sat perched on his powered armor, her porcelain-smooth face beaming with delight. "...What arrogant fools, daring to oppose Xiao Qi's master. Looks like these worms haven't learned their lesson. I suppose that's just small-fry behavior~" Hearing a voice even more cocky than his own, Chu Guang laughed aloud, then teased, "Xiao Qi, that's usually what villains say." "Ehh???" Xiao Qi looked at Chu Guang in shock, then shrank back and muttered sheepishly, "B-but... isn't that how manga protagonists talk?" Chu Guang paused, casting an odd glance at the little creature on his shoulder. "Just what kind of stuff have you been reading on the forums..." Shifting her gaze subtly to the side, Xiao Qi glanced left and right before her eyes suddenly brightened. "Master! Someone just spent 10,000 purification points to purchase a 400mm rocket-assisted projectile! Should I approve it?" *Damn.* *Someone actually bought that?* Though he knew she was deliberately changing the subject—and doing so rather clumsily—a flicker of surprise still crossed Chu Guang's face. That was ten thousand points! Enough to call in twenty close air support runs! "Target coordinates?" "Laishan City outskirts! Southwest of the abandoned light industrial park!" As she spoke, Xiao Qi switched the holographic screen to the map view and centered the camera on the strike coordinates. Unsurprisingly, the group redeeming the support was the Storm Corps. Only they could have stockpiled so many unused points. Chu Guang checked the positions of friendly forces. Seeing they were well clear of the strike zone, he ordered immediately, "Request approved!" "Roger that!" Xiao Qi chimed in eagerly, switching the display from the map back to the drone feed, and steered a Hummingbird drone closer to the strike zone. The instant the order came down, the main battery of the Heart of Steel rotated smoothly, raising its thick, dark barrel to lock in the firing parameters. *BOOM—!!* A column of fiery light erupted toward the sky, and a deafening roar rolled across the deck. A thick plume of white smoke burst from the barrel as the shell traced a high arc, plunging into the clouds several kilometers ahead of the airship. Falling like thunder from the heavens, the projectile detonated into a crimson fireball the moment it touched the ground. Boiling flames surged upward, and the expanding shockwave swept across the ruins like volcanic lava. When the dust settled, every living thing in the blast radius had been reduced to ashes, leaving behind only scorch-blackened earth venting wisps of rising heat. Watching the distant detonation through the drone camera, the players erupted into cheers of satisfaction. At their squad leader's call, they gathered their gear from the defensive position and resumed their march onto the newly sanitized scorched earth. While waiting for the artillery strike, they had already completed the purification of the ground beneath their feet. Thus, they had simply spent their remaining points on a 400mm heavy shell to blast the new area where they had just planted their purification base beacon. Purification points couldn't be carried over, after all, and they had held their ground in the previous "stage" long enough that converting the leftover score into survival time wouldn't boost their rewards by much. It made far more sense to use it to clear the mobs in the next zone. Regional corruption was sampled and calculated before placing the beacon, locked into the VM map's corruption grid. Strategic bombardment of the new stage using points earned from the previous one had no negative impact on difficulty or final rewards. Without even guessing, Chu Guang knew this had to be Brother Spring's idea. Looking at his clever little players, a smile of approval touched his lips. These guys had certainly figured out how to work the system. Then again, that was precisely what he had always encouraged.