Justice Descends

Huai Shi paused, sniffing the hand-rolled cigarette. It had no filter, and seemed to contain some kind of spice that left him feeling refreshed.

"Metal-reinforced shell, incense to nourish the soul," Crow said calmly. "You'll get used to it, but be careful not to get high on it. Addiction would be troublesome.

Except for a very few thousand-year incenses, most others stimulate origin essence to achieve an invigorating effect—like an upgraded Red Bull and cigarette. Abuse it, and you'll easily become an idiot."

Huai Shi nodded, saying nothing more.

A moment later, he watched the origin essence fire on his fingertips dissipate and twisted his neck. "Again."

Then, darkness fell.

Soon, he opened his eyes again and sighed, "Continue."

Crow nodded.

The long afternoon passed in endless repetition until the last time he opened his eyes, the sky was completely dark and all was silent.

"Want to rest for a bit?" Crow asked. "You've reached your limit, after all."

"One more round."

Huai Shi finally understood the distress of heavy gamers, rubbing his temples and yawning. "I'm almost getting the hang of it."

"Alright, then, last round?"

"Last round."

Huai Shi nodded.

With a sense of disorientation, he opened his eyes in the carriage, quietly listening to the commands from the front, not uttering a word.

He even seized the last moment to close his eyes and sleep for a while.

"Wake me up when we get there."

He patted his teammate's shoulder affectionately.

After a while, the car stopped outside the village.

He was roughly kicked awake.

Huai Shi chuckled nonchalantly, got up awkwardly, and followed his teammates. During a brief period of lurking in the grass, he suddenly patted the shoulder of the person in front of him.

His teammate turned back, annoyed.

Then he saw Huai Shi expressionlessly reach out, dagger in hand, and plunge it into his own throat, slashing across.

"See you."

Huai Shi whispered softly.

Blood stained the dry earth and wild grass.

On the desolate land, he crawled, fumbling towards another teammate, moving swiftly. He used all four limbs as he crawled.

Like a spider crawling through thorns.

One by one, based on the callouts from the walkie-talkie, he enjoyed the thrill of backstabbing his teammates.

This experience of being a traitor, stabbing allies in the back, was truly enjoyable. Huai Shi found himself becoming proficient.

This wonderful time continued until the sound of gunfire from Team A engaging in combat came from the front.

He sighed, hearing the alarm from the walkie-talkie. Someone had already noticed something was wrong, as four or five people hadn't responded for over five minutes.

Looks like he couldn't keep up the charade anymore.

He shook his head, sat on the ground, pulled the pins from a few small grenades, weighed them in his hand, and hurled them with all his might.

Explosions rumbled in the distance.

Gunfire erupted, and the bushes beside him trembled like wild grass in a downpour as bullets tore through them.

Huai Shi sighed, wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve, and stood up from the bodies of his teammates. His uniform was already stained crimson with friendly fire.

A large patch on his backside was red.

"What's with the ass looking like a monkey with hemorrhoids?"

Huai Shi quipped to himself, picked up his rifle, and walked towards the sound of gunfire, shouting loudly, "Don't shoot, it's friendly!"

Then he pulled the trigger on the stunned faces.

He emptied one magazine without resistance, then another. A shot hit his shoulder, feeling like a large hole had been gouged out with a chisel. In the intense pain, he felt like his left hand was gone.

"That's too much, man. My hand's broken again?"

Huai Shi sighed helplessly. "I haven't learned how to reload with one hand yet."

Dropping the assault rifle, he drew his pistol and walked towards the village.

"7794! What are you doing!" an angry roar came from the walkie-talkie.

"Naturally, backstabbing my teammates. Don't you know, friend? I pick Widowmaker, you pick Hanzo, and we can rebuild the empire together."

But there was no response from the walkie-talkie, only a grim silence, until the instructor's cold voice sounded: "Mission change, eliminate 7794."

He was being focused.

"Don't make decisions so quickly."

Huai Shi sighed. Before the channel was cut off, he raised his walkie-talkie and tentatively said, "I think I can still be saved."

Bang!

Huai Shi instinctively tilted his head and saw the walkie-talkie thrown from his hand explode into a pile of junk in mid-air.

A sniper's bullet.

Under the strong warning of Death Sense, he crawled and quickly entered the intricate alleys of the village, hearing footsteps coming from all directions.

He counted silently in his heart.

In the original carriage, there were seven people from Team B on the left and six from Team A on the right. Including himself, there were thirteen people.

And under the betrayal of the mole, six out of the seven from Team B were now dead, completely wiped out. By rights, after side B of the tape finished, it should have been side A, but side A hadn't even started playing yet, and Huai Shi felt like he was about to be put on side A.

Fortunately, the destination was not far.

He gestured in the direction and raised his pistol, taking out the reckless fool who had exposed himself in front. After he fell, he casually fired two more shots, checked the magazine, and saw there were six bullets left, exactly one for each person... but that was a lie. He wasn't some sharpshooter. In a melee like this, hitting even one person with six shots would be pure luck.

He could perhaps try spraying wildly with five shots. If those five shots couldn't kill the six people opposite him (with one shot penetrating two people), then the remaining bullet could give him a quick end.

A valiant death, without humiliation. It sounded so romantic...

The footsteps in the distance grew closer, and he took two steps, vaulted over the wall, and jumped out of the alley. After experiencing so many death loops, he had grasped some patterns.

Compared to the malicious level design of current VR games, this kind of setting, where difficulty could be reduced simply by memorizing the layout, was incredibly merciful.

Then, in the courtyard behind the wall, he saw those pair of terrified eyes once again.

The hunched woman was still looking at the sky.

Her eyes were vacant.

She was futilely trying to hide her two small children behind her.

But they were all dead now, lying on the ground with bullet holes and blood. Dust fell from the wind, covering their empty eyes.

"Why is it you again?"

Huai Shi froze for a moment, scratched his head, and wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say. Even though he knew this was a recording, and these were all fake NPCs, he still felt an indescribable shame.

This wasn't a game.

"I'm sorry."

Huai Shi lowered his head, not daring to look at the eyes covered by dust again.

He said, "I'll go out now."

He forcefully broke open the large door and rushed into the road, shoving the barrel of his gun into an opponent's eye socket: "Die—"

Bang!

A spray of blood erupted from the back of the person's head. He didn't have time to look around. Fleeing for his life, he stumbled, trying to get further away from that courtyard.

But he could never forget those eyes.

When he started treating all this as a game, the countless deaths in the records would jolt him awake from his sweet dreams. This wasn't a game; it was a record, history that had once happened.

History that had once occurred in some corner of this world.

Insignificant massacres and insignificant deaths.

They were all dead.

Those eyes, which had lost their luster, were gradually covered by dust, buried, forgotten, even without the right to be remembered...

Huai Shi staggered and ran wildly, pushing forward wearily through the gaps. Kicking open a door head-on, he finally reached his destination.

In the room, the old man curled up in the corner seemed startled and instinctively clutched what he was holding.

"Let go."

Huai Shi leaned against the doorframe, panting, and raised his pistol: "Give that to me."

The person said something, hesitated, and let go. Huai Shi suppressed him and forced him to the ground.

"Thank you."

Huai Shi panted, hoisted the item, staggered back two steps, and turned to leave. But after taking two steps, he couldn't help but look back and shout behind him, "Don't worry, I'll save you!"

No one responded.

The people in this village were probably long dead.

He hadn't been able to save a single one.

Damn it...

Huai Shi raised his arm and rubbed the corner of his eye, muttering under his breath, "Damn it..."

Immediately after, he heard the roar of the courtyard gate shattering, and the sound of automatic rifle fire erupted like a downpour, plowing through every inch of space.

Huai Shi curled up behind a millstone, hearing the sound of flying gravel overhead.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself in the smell of gunpowder, then Huai Shi stood up, shouldered the RPG, and tried to show his teammates his brightest smile:

Hey, how are you all doing?

Then, he pulled the trigger.

"——Justice, rains from above!!!"

Boom!

Amidst the violent tremors and impact, flames and thick smoke shot into the sky. Boiling blood mist permeated the air, dancing with the dust before finally turning into fine rain, falling onto the walls and the ground.

And onto Huai Shi.

Silence returned.

Huai Shi dropped the launcher in his hand and, crossing the chaotic courtyard and street, walked towards the center of the village.

He walked towards the man waiting there.

As if taken aback by the outcome, the instructor standing with his hands behind his back paused for a moment, then quickly raised his hand, removed his sunglasses, and threw them on the ground.

"Even though they were all half-finished products, they were all wiped out here... I never expected you to have such guts, 7794."

Those gray eyes coldly stared at Huai Shi's face, and then he beckoned to the young man with a finger, "It seems I need to give you another lesson."

"Likewise."

Huai Shi twisted his neck, discarded his holster and the cumbersome rapid-response vest, drew his military saber with one hand, and struck a completely different pose from his opponent.

Unlike the combat techniques of the Roman military, this was clearly a classic stance from Dongxia, even an introductory one that the instructor almost didn't recognize.

"Come on."

Huai Shi grinned, "Let me beat you to death with Military Boxing."

"Very good."

The instructor seemed to understand something, his face gradually turning ashen. The joints in his body creaked, emitting a low sound, "Very good, 7794.

I promise, before you die, you will experience – what hell is!"

Sorry, I got home around one or two in the morning last night and didn't have time to update.