This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 564.1: Ah... Were Here To Die

Mutant Humans entrenched in Brocade Lake Municipality had long been accustomed to raids by the Iron Tower. This time seemed no different from the last.

Both sides left more than a dozen corpses each, raised hell for a while, and then broke off in haste.

But just as Chu Guang had guessed, the local Mutant Human tribe was not quite the same as those elsewhere. They were a little smarter.

Three armed trucks had been destroyed, 19 Mutant Human soldiers were killed, among them a leader figure with 30% cybernetic implants.

For a band of guerrillas whose equipment was cobbled together, that casualty ratio was suspiciously high...

At dawn the next day, a mighty, towering giant stood amid the littered streets.

He stood over three meters tall and was built like a wild bear. His skin was green to the point of black, half of him was granite-like muscle and half of him was steel slicked with grease and mottled with rust. At a glance, it was hard to tell whether he was a beast wrapped up in steel or he wrapped around the metal augments.

His name was Qi Gaen, chief of the Qi Mutant Human tribe. He was not only the strongest of the tribe but also its undisputed supreme authority.

Gazing at the mangled corpse before him, his brows knotted like twin centipedes, and something brewed in his flickering pupils.

At that moment, a hunched old mutant with patterned cloth strips draped over his shoulders stepped half a pace to his side and spoke in a soft whisper, "Missiles, a Gauss rifle, exoframe, and an aircraft... Toys that precise aren’t the work of those ragtag stragglers. We can be at least 80% sure it’s the humans from the north who has their eyes set on us."

The elder’s name was Qi Gomo, the Qi tribe’s high priest, already more than 100 years old.

In the Qi tribe, most elderly priests belonged to the ancient Ancestral faction, but Gomo was an exception. He stood completely with the younger faction.

That was one of the reasons he had replaced those venerable fossils to become the tribe’s high priest and won Gaen’s trust.

"Where are they?" Gaen asked in a low voice.

There was no ripple in the tone, yet Gomo still heard the anger seething beneath.

He knew the chief too well. After all, he had watched the child grow up...

Gomo’s eyes shifted slightly, and he said very softly, "I heard that a few days ago, the Torch Church’s apostles went to a place north of Brocade Lake Municipality called Dust Town to preach. They vanished without a trace."

"In the whole region around Brocade Lake Municipality, only Dust Town hasn’t embraced the Holy Flame. Even Pinecone Ranch has become a puppet of the Torch Church, and that village has only 200 to 300 households. With so few people, there is no way they kept themselves untouched..."

It was obvious. Someone had helped them.

Who those people were went without saying.

Understanding Gomo’s oblique counsel, a cold smile tugged at Gaen’s lips, the crimson of his gums radiating a bloodthirsty cruelty. "Oge."

As he spoke, a burly mutant warrior in heavy armor strode forward and knelt on one knee, his voice booming. "What are your orders, Chief?"

Gaen took the map from Gomo, glanced at it, tossed it into the hands of the warrior called Oge, and gave a steady order. "Take five 100-man teams and go to the northern settlement called Dust Town. Avenge your brothers."

"As for the humans there..."

"... Leave none alive!"

The Torch Church hoped they would restrain themselves when taking from the sheep pen, but since that place was no sheep pen, there was nothing more to say.

It was necessary deterrence.

He would make the impious remember the price of defiance.

Hearing he could take revenge, battle fervor and rage surged in Oge’s eyes. He clenched the wrinkled map in his hand. "Oge!"

Leaving the chief’s side, Oge strode to an open-top jeep parked by the road and bellowed for the driver to head to the barracks a few kilometers away.

Soon, a mob of Mutant Humans who looked slovenly yet were anything but under-equipped formed up at the gate. There were 500 in all.

Half-rising from the open-top jeep, Oge hefted a rifle as thick as a man’s thigh and raised it high, tearing his throat with a rough roar. "Oge!"

"I’m taking you to slaughter those cowardly, ugly two-legs losers!"

That rough bellow carried a peculiar magic, igniting countless upturned eyes.

The Mutant Humans at the gate lifted their weapons, shouting with coarse excitement for the slaughter to come.

"Oge!"

In the Qi tribe, names carried special meaning.

Only warriors recognized by the chief could be granted a name that could be written, and only those who had earned enough battle merits could place the tribe’s name before theirs.

To call one’s name before the ranks was to stake one’s honor and swear to victory.

To shout a commander’s name was to answer that oath!

"Move out!" Oge slashed the air with his fan-sized hand.

At his blunt command, the Mutant Humans clambered up onto lumbering trucks with a clamor.

Those who couldn’t squeeze on huffed and puffed after the trucks, as if rushing to some orgiastic feast, afraid to be left behind.

Overloaded trucks welded with rams and steel plates crawled like snails, leading a tide of bobbing green heads and gaping muzzles as they poured toward the outskirts.

On both flanks of the main body prowled eight armed jeeps, their bun-sized muscles packing every inch of space.

One had to admit, their marching style was very goblin-like...

Of course, from their appearance, they were obviously more orcs than goblins. Also, they clearly failed to notice that a drone was circling overhead and had had them in its sights for quite some time...

Elsewhere, 50 kilometers away, Dust Town lay under a thin morning mist, still quiet and peaceful.

The survivors there had never seen a Viper transport plane. It was an enormous beast that could fly and belch fire, and they took the players disembarking from it for Heavenly Soldiers sent by the ‘Emperor’.

The locals seemed to have formed a self-consistent logic, or belief, and firmly believed in the Emperor who had saved them and in the Giant Rat God and Great Stag God under his banner...

"What the hell is the Emperor?!"

After hearing the town’s situation from the mayor, Night Ten grabbed Garbage and asked, "And how the hell did I become the Emperor?!"

Garbage shot an awkward glare at Me Quiet beside him. "You’ll have to ask this guy."

Me Quiet wore an equally awkward look, coughed, and said, "I was just joking. Didn’t expect them to take it seriously... And calling you the Emperor... Don’t you think that sounds cool?"

Make Me gave him an aggrieved look. "Cool my ass! These yokels believing in the Giant Rat God was fine to begin with, and then you had to stuff a bunch of random nonsense in there."

Me Quiet was immediately displeased. "What do you mean, nonsense? I suspect you lack loyalty!"

Make Me spat. "Ptui, human trash!"

Watching the unending bicker between man and mouse, Ample Time shifted his gaze with a complicated expression. "Maybe our game libraries weren’t the same?"

He couldn’t get the point of their argument and couldn’t squeeze his way into their conversation at all.

Suddenly remembering something, Garbage hurriedly grabbed Night Ten and asked, "Right, I nearly forgot. What about the fertilizer and seeds I asked you to bring? And the tractor and all that?"

"How was I supposed to load that on a plane?!"

Night Ten rolled his eyes, but seeing his buddy’s anxious face, he sighed and said, "Relax. I put it on a truck for you. It should arrive in a few days."

"Really?!" Garbage’s amber pupils lit up at once. A moment earlier Garbage’s face had been long; now it blossomed into a grin as he hooked an arm around Night Ten’s shoulder. "Thanks, brother!"

"Don’t mention it. Let me ride you next time and it’s all good."

"Ahem, if you call me ‘Daddy’, it’s not impossible."

"Fuck you!"

While they were bragging, the two Viper transport planes that had returned to Boulder Town the previous night suddenly shot out from the forest’s edge.

The high-velocity plasma plumes kicked up a great cloud of dust as the two pitch-black vessels settled slowly into the town center.

"The Emperor be praised!"

Seeing the distinct silhouettes, Dust Town’s mayor, Qin Baitian, clenched his fists in excitement, then hurriedly led everyone to drop to their knees.