This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 583.1: Brute Force Is The Key!

At the southernmost edge of the Central Continent, there was a beautiful place with lush jungles, seas of multicolored flowers, and glowing corals and waters.

That place was called Ocean Edge Province.

It was said that many years ago, the land had stretched even farther. The glowing sea had once been solid ground, home to a prosperous city.

But one day, something had fallen from the sky and erased both the city and the land beneath it.

Li Jinrong had never seen what it once looked like, only heard fragments of what it once was from his grandfather.

200 years ago, the glowing sea was even more dazzling. The arcs of azure light that fell connected into a single blaze, like flames burning across the horizon.

Those were said to be the flames of death.

All who saw it had perished.

Most migrated north with the help of the Post-War Reconstruction Committee, though a few refused to leave their homeland. After all, the world had already ended, what difference did fleeing north make?

In the end, death awaited everyone.

It was better, perhaps, to go with dignity.

As a child, Li Jinrong never understood why people thought that way. Humanity was too resilient to perish from something so small.

Even where grass could not survive, humans could.

Was that not proven true?

If those people had all perished, how could he exist?

What he failed to understand was not just the despair of those who stayed, but also why anyone fled. To his childish mind, there had been a better way.

"Why didn’t everyone work together to extinguish the flames of death?"

He once recalled asking his grandfather that.

The wise old man, normally never at a loss, had shown rare hesitation.

Eventually, he sighed, "Not every problem has a solution. Some problems have no answer at all. And some that do... must wait for their time."

"And ours, what kind is it?"

He had pressed further. But his grandfather only answered helplessly. "Sorry, child. I don’t know."

200 years was too far away.

Even a 100... 50, no, even 20 years ago, without deliberate memory, records, and recounts, few would recall what had really happened.

It was like that glowing sea.

Though it had killed millions in an instant, today, some even worshipped it as vast and benevolent.

Luckily, those blue arcs had sunk to the ocean floor. They were only visible on dark nights.

In truth, young Li Jinrong cared less about the sea’s origin, and more about his grandfather’s tales of the Post-War Reconstruction Committee. In his words, the organization was omnipotent.

Even though Ocean Edge Province had no official settlements under its plan, even though its survivors were seen as abandoned beings, the committee had never forsaken those who chose to stay.

The signal towers still standing across the province were proof of their presence.

For years, even after their dissolution, those towers kept broadcasting survival knowledge, urging all shelters to uphold their oaths.

In that time, many good people in blue coats had appeared, bringing knowledge and tools that helped settlements thrive.

The Iron Tower was born then. Locals and shelter dwellers alike, united to end the wasteland and restore order.

Until 20 years ago, Iron Tower still held an important role there.

Li Jinrong no longer remembered the exact day. Only that, when he was young, one day his people stopped trusting the so-called Iron Tower, and turned to the Torch Church instead.

The old towers left by the committee were torn down for scrap, invisible walls rose between villages, and settlements became isolated plantations.

He never knew why.

Only that from that day, everything changed.

...

"... Mutant Humans."

Holding binoculars, standing on a ridge, Li Jinrong squinted dangerously at the rolling dust on the plains kilometers away.

Their numbers were uncertain. There were at least 500 but no more than 2,000.

Vehicles were everywhere. The bastards were a motorized force, half riding trucks and jeeps, half were running behind, pounding the dirt behind those vehicles.

By Mutant Human standards, it was elite discipline and gear. Yet to Li Jinrong, they looked less like an army, more like a mob going to a feast.

Leaning against his motorcycle, a man yawned. "Don’t these green-skins ever sleep? 3:00 in the morning and they’re still out here."

His name was Xiao Yue, Li Jinrong’s subordinate, who had been rescued with him by a New Alliance aircraft.

Distrusting the organization for traitors, Li Jinrong hadn’t regrouped with them.

Xiao Yue thought he was being paranoid, comrades were comrades, but he wasn’t about to let the old man act alone, so he stayed.

For days they had scouted near the Qi Tribe, investigating rumors of the Sanctuary, helping the New Alliance gather intel on the Torch Church.

The northerners paid well. Intelligence could be traded for food and ammunition.

If not for the Torch Church's northern origin, and Clearspring City being hailed as their holy land, Old Li might’ve thought better of them.

"... They aren’t just messing around. For there to be so many moving at once, they’ve got a target."

He lowered the binoculars, unfolded a map, finger tracing the grid before stopping at a red circle. His brow furrowed.

"Pinecone Ranch."

At that name, Xiao Yue clicked his tongue. Their first stop in Brocade Lake Municipality, it had soured his view of local settlements.

That arrogant settlement lord hadn’t even met them before driving them out, shouting Pinecone Ranch only dealt with real powers, not homeless drifters.

"Those bastards are doomed. A mutant force this size? Their soldiers aren’t enough to fil their teeth, let alone defense."

"Whether or not it matters, we should warn them. At least give them a chance." Kicking his bike to life, Li Jinrong looked to Xiao Yue. "You coming with me, or staying here?"

Xiao Yue sighed, climbing behind. "Feels like a waste of time... but fine, I’ll ride with you."

Li Jinrong grinned and revved the throttle.

Just as he was about to head downhill, a rumble shook the night sky.

He looked up.

Through torn black clouds, by faint moonlight, he glimpsed several crosses. Dark shapes were flying through the sky.

Xiao Yue too saw it and muttered to himself, "... What is that?"

Li Jinrong wanted to know as well.

His throat tightened. Just as he spoke, the crosses broke from the clouds, diving toward the Mutant Humans below.

The noise was too great and the Mutant Humans noticed too. Panic rippled through the convoy.

From atop a jeep, the hulking Kuru bared his fangs at the sky.

The hum above stirred his instincts. Fear filled his mind suddenly, but he didn’t yet grasp the meaning.

He was about to become an army caught on open plains by an airstrike.

As he hesitated, the crosses dove, sirens shrieking as bombs dropped.

Hundreds of kilograms of bombs rained down on the Mutant Humans army. Explosions ripped the plain, fireballs tossing trucks everywhere. Mutant Human warriors were killed outright or hurled by wrecks.

Those running behind who had been choking on exhaust fumes, now saw trucks blasted into the air.

Some fools thought they had awakened powers, until all the trucks exploded in turn, and then they understood.

Shock painted every green face.

The moon must’ve risen in the west!

Someone dared strike at them!.

It wasn’t just a random strike either. It was a crushing blow!

Survivors in the region had always been weaklings. Since birth, those Mutant Humans chased humans like cattle. Even rare treasures were soon stolen. Never had they seen such terror, much less in numbers.

No, it wasn’t the first time.

That night, they had tasted New Alliance missiles. However, they had soon dismissed them. Far too few had died. Strong Mutant Humans just shook it off.

Even Oge’s crushing defeat hadn’t taught them anything. They thought him a coward, unable to handle weaklings. They thought he was just too ashamed to return.

Now, with planes out of reach and bombs raining down on them, bewilderment filled their hearts.

The things were untouchable, and they couldn’t even aim at it!

They had no answer for the New Alliance’s air force.

Meanwhile, in the skies, the W-2s pulled up from their dives, climbing to safety, preparing for another run.

"Hahahaha! Damn, that’s hella fun!" Inside one, Mosquito was flushed with excitement, watching fire fill the lands below.

Since the battle in the Sunset Province ended, he had been idle, reduced to dabbling in Lifestyle Profession play.

Once, a teammate even tricked him into blowing up their mess hall.

Now, a botched mission had brought him back.

At last, it was his turn to shine!

The communication channel hissed, then Light Wind’s voice came. "... Commander, what next? Return for resupply?"

Mosquito chuckled. "Resupply? Hell no! Break out the cannons, shred those bastards!"

"But it’s too dark, we can’t see."