Second Closed Beta

Dr. Ruan's video was like a fuse, completely igniting the mountains of dry kindling that public opinion had long piled up.

Within just a few hours of the video's release, terms like "Warhammer 40K: Pedetia," "the most realistic game ever," and "the ceiling of hardcore games" swiftly dominated the trending lists across major social platforms. Countless Players and armchair gamers engaged in heated discussions around the video's content. Some yearned for it, some questioned it, while others were simply eager to watch the chaos unfold.

Just as the hype reached its peak, an official forum called Warhammer 40K: Pedetia quietly went live.

The moment the news spread, it was like floodwaters bursting through a dam as massive numbers of users poured in. The forum's design was extremely simple—perhaps even a little crude—but that did nothing to dampen the Players' enthusiasm. Every refresh brought dozens of new posts, covering everything from analyses of the video's details and discussions of game mechanics to pure emotional venting and demands for an open beta.

As the game's sole developer and backend administrator, Bit had naturally built the forum himself. As he browsed the rapidly scrolling posts, he saw an astonishing number of users online in the backend. Then, in the forum's most prominent spot, he posted the only official pinned thread.

[Notice Regarding the Second Closed Beta of Warhammer 40K: Pedetia]

"Thank you all for your interest in this game. The second closed technical beta will begin soon. In addition to the original ten testers, ninety new Players will be selected to participate. Testing qualifications will be randomly drawn from all registered users."

The post was like a basin of cold water thrown into boiling oil. The entire forum instantly exploded.

The moment registration opened beneath the post, the numbers began climbing at a terrifying rate. One hundred thousand, five hundred thousand, eight hundred thousand... Before long, registrations had surpassed one million. It seemed that despite all the agonizing aspects Ruan Wenbo had described in the video, that unparalleled sense of realism still held a fatal allure for countless Players.

Bit had no intention of stringing the Players along. To him, Players were precious resources—the key to saving Pedetia. If he delayed any longer, the few humans left on that planet would likely truly be finished.

Once registrations reached a certain threshold, he closed the channel, randomly selected ninety lucky people, and sent them testing invitations.

The familiar sensation of weightlessness and falling washed over him again. Ruan Wenbo steadied himself with practiced ease and waited for his consciousness to reconnect with his body. When he opened his eyes again and his vision cleared from darkness, he was back in that familiar trench, filled with the smell of gunpowder and earth.

He scrambled to his feet excitedly, ready to greet the others, only to freeze the next second.

He looked around and realized something was wrong. The trench was completely empty. Including himself, there were only the original ten Players.

The Astra Militarum soldiers who should have been stationed here, as well as Commissar Walter, who always wore a stern face and kicked people in the ass at the slightest provocation, had all vanished without a trace. The empty position was unnaturally silent. Only the occasional explosions in the distance proved that this world was still at war.

What was going on? Had the main force retreated and forgotten us Players? Or had the game bugged out?

Ruan Wenbo instinctively felt around beside him. Thankfully, the Chainsword named [Xenos Must Die] and his Lasgun were both still there, giving him a sliver of security.

The other nine veteran Players also gradually recovered from their brief confusion. They exchanged looks, clearly equally unsure of what was happening.

Notably, those Players who had complained before the Q&A session that the game was too hardcore and the punishment too severe, declaring that they were "quitting," had still logged on.

The other Players had clearly noticed as well. The Player with the ID "Flying Eagle" wore a teasing grin as he joked, "Well, well, weren't you guys saying you were quitting? Why are you back online after changing your minds?"

The Player who had been called out flushed and stubbornly retorted, "Can a Player changing his mind be called going back on his word?" He paused, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. "Th-this, this is called having the courage to make a change! I said I wasn't playing 'before,' but I never said I wasn't playing 'now'!"

His shamelessly righteous excuse instantly amused everyone. For a moment, the dead-silent trench was filled with cheerful air.

The cheerful air in the trench did not last long.

A low engine rumble approached from the distance, shattering the brief relaxed atmosphere. The sound grew louder and louder, until even the ground beneath their feet began to tremble faintly.

"Something's happening!" Ruan Wenbo was the first to react. He immediately lowered himself, gripped his Chainsword, and cautiously poked half his head over the trench's parapet.

The other nine veteran Players also dropped their joking expressions, each finding cover as they looked toward the sound.

In the distance, dust rolled through the air as several Chimera armored personnel carriers bearing Imperium Eagle insignias sped toward their position. Their enormous metal bodies jolted over the uneven ground with deafening clatters before finally stopping not far in front of the trench.

The rear hatch of the lead carrier slammed onto the ground with a clang, and a familiar figure stepped out—Commissar Walter, dressed in a black overcoat with a stern expression.

Then, the doors of all the other carriers opened in succession. The Players in the trench were shocked to discover that everyone disembarking was a "new recruit" just like them, wearing standard-issue Carapace Armor!

This massive group of ninety newcomers was clearly the lucky batch selected for the Second Closed Beta. Most of them were pale and unsteady on their feet. Some clung to the vehicles and dry-heaved, while others stared blankly at the realistic battlefield reeking of gunpowder, clearly still adjusting to the stomach-churning ride and the overwhelming shock this game had brought them.

Commissar Walter swept his gaze over the trench, his sharp eyes eventually settling on Ruan Wenbo.

"Ruan!" he called.

"I'm here, Commissar!" Ruan Wenbo instinctively straightened up and answered loudly.

Walter jerked his chin toward the ninety new Players swaying behind him and issued his order concisely. "They're all your fellow townsmen. From now on, you command them. I require you to lead them in holding this position for at least one day."

"Huh?"

Ruan Wenbo was completely dumbfounded by the sudden appointment. A commander? Me?

However, his mind raced, and he quickly understood. This was probably not a random system assignment, but the result of his previous actions—whether it was actively gathering intelligence or burying fallen comrades, those actions had inadvertently raised Commissar Walter's favorability toward him.

Looks like this game really does have a favorability system. It's just completely hidden, and everything depends on the Player's actual actions.

Having figured that out, Ruan Wenbo no longer felt lost. In its place came a heavy sense of responsibility. He immediately stood at attention and promised the Commissar loudly, "Yes, Commissar! I guarantee the mission will be completed!"

Walter nodded, seemingly fairly satisfied with his response. He gave Ruan Wenbo one final look, and in a tone that made it impossible to tell whether it was concern or a warning, he said only, "Be careful. Don't die."

With that, he turned and boarded the Chimera armored personnel carrier. Calling to the other drivers, he led the convoy away from the position amid a roar of engines, leaving behind nothing but dust filling the sky and one hundred Players staring at one another.