Player Reload

"That's Yuan Zhixia, right? I heard that she seems to have won some kind of science and technology innovation competition award recently. She probably won't even have to take the college entrance examination to be recommended to a top university."

Han Letian sighed with envy, and slammed the test paper on his desk that had an above-average score, "You're just studying, I won't study anymore!"

Mu Yulu, who was sitting in the front row, heard the commotion and turned around and said casually: "Didn't you say before that your parents thought about sending you to the UK or Australia to study at university?"

Han Letian shrugged, "Oh, the plan is cancelled. There are terrorist attacks over there every three days, so it's not safe."

In the past few years, as the killing game has continued to advance, the already volatile regional situation has become even more unstable.

African warlords emerge one after another. The black uncles use advanced weapons such as simple exoskeletons, suicide drones, and machine guns and robot dogs produced by European Heavy Industries and Prometheus Laboratories to fight endlessly on the African land, causing millions of Countless civilians were displaced.

Compared to before the Killing Fields game started, warlords are much richer in terms of weapons and equipment. Even small warlords can afford light tanks - although there are often reports of tanks accidentally crushing their own infantry when engaging in infantry-tank coordination. An own incident.

These warlords attack and annex each other, sometimes forming alliances and sometimes betraying each other, and the situation changes day by day.

In some domestic forums, netizens jokingly called it the "All-Africa Chicken Contest" and named a total of five "Africa's Three Major Warlords."

Well, there are five warlords in total. This is very reasonable. Just like the three great tyrants in Africa in the last century, they were still composed of five "humanoid heroes": Mobutu, Bokassa, Amin, Masiere, and Doe. The composition is the same.

As chaotic as Africa is, other regions are no better. The powder keg in the Middle East has been ignited again, the Russia-Ukraine war has escalated, and South America has transformed from drug lords fighting for territory into a cyberpunk-style corporate war.

Major multinational companies have isolated the local governments of many South American countries and provided everything that ordinary people need in the fields of food, clothing, housing, transportation, medical care, education, insurance, etc. People either sign contracts to join the company and become lifelong employees, or they leave their hometowns and go abroad.

There is no middle option, not even returning to the countryside to become a farmer - super companies will control local governments in South America to change laws, and agricultural products that do not meet standards will not be allowed on the market.

The same thing is happening in developed countries such as Japan, South Korea, Europe and the United States - the middle class has returned to poverty due to various reasons, and the entire society is rushing towards the direction of having only three classes: the super rich, working people, and the bottom class.

It's just cyberpunk brought into reality, no, in a sense it's not as good as cyberpunk.

At least in the world view of cyberpunk, people at the bottom can equip themselves with prosthetic parts, risk their lives to break into tightly secured company buildings, and behead corporate executives who have committed many evil deeds.

In reality, chaebols and consortiums have merged with players.

Either buying players, hiring them, absorbing them through marriage, or directly getting player qualifications for one of your own.

Ordinary people who want to resist can only become chosen ones and possess extraordinary power. But once he became a player, his own class also changed.

Immediately there was a group of people waving money in fear, inviting him to join the company, and offering him cars, beautiful women, villas and mansions. Let him be one of his own.

Li Sheng rubbed his eyebrows and saw another side of the world from the news that he had treated as anecdotes in the past.

Whether it is warlords in Africa, wars in the Middle East, or the current situation of magical realism in South America, there is a complete and rigorous logic behind these weird phenomena.

People, more people, people who live in more pain and struggle and have to burst out their life potential, mean more player qualifications.

Means a ticket to a bright future.

Because of this, giants like European Heavy Industries and Prometheus are willing to sell arms at low prices and look for player seedlings in the chaotic land of Africa.

Multinational groups are busy monopolizing more people, and they do not hesitate to launch wars for this purpose.

Ordinary people are either confused and living in confusion in a turbulent situation, not knowing whether tomorrow or the accident will come first.

Either become a player, step into the killing field, step into the death vortex of death if you don't get stronger, and walk on the tip of a knife all day long.

Chaos has arrived, both for mortals and players.

Thinking of this, Li Sheng raised his head and glanced at the slogan on the classroom wall with mixed emotions.

In the past, slogans usually read: "If you don't accumulate small streams, you won't be able to grow into a river; if you don't accumulate small steps, you won't be able to reach a thousand miles."

I don’t know since when, it was changed to a simple, and in a certain sense, strange “One World” and “For All Mankind”.

This should be the country's arrangement, but I don't know when humans can truly unite in this cruel world.

Just as Li Sheng was sighing with emotion, Han Letian rolled his eyes, cleared his throat, and murmured in a low voice: "Hey, Lao Sheng, do you know that Zhao Hua from Class 9 argued with the shopkeeper all day over 5G Xiaomi, but he didn't think he was Guo Qilin?" Singing the Three Kingdoms and Eastern Wu Peking Opera "Burning Red Cliff".

"Um?"

Evans, who was writing furiously in front of the classroom, suddenly raised his head when he heard the key words, "What Huawei, what 5G, what Xiaomi, what Kirin, what Wu Jing?"

Zhan Xinyu on the other side of the aisle also raised his head and sneered: "Good guy, are you a Weibo robot? You get excited when you hear keywords? The Ministry of Foreign Affairs has given you funding, right?"

"What's the matter with you here? I'll see if you subscribe to the "Observer Network" as a premium member."

"What's wrong with "Observer Network"? It's more objective than the CNN, BBC, and FOX you watch, right?"

The two enemies dropped their pens and immediately started quarreling with each other. The classroom was suddenly filled with a happy atmosphere.

"Oh, it's great."

Han Letian had a happy expression on his face and happily poured himself a glass of soda.

Evans and Zhan Xinyu are two strange people in the class. It is really a pleasure to watch them quarrel with each other. Even if it is only served with white rice, you can eat two big bowls.

Another day of daily school life came to an end in a cheerful atmosphere. The students went home after school, and Li Sheng slowly walked to the door of the lecture theater with his schoolbag on his back.

The door was unlocked, and there was only Yuan Zhixia inside. She was lying in front of the table writing homework quickly.

Li Sheng looked around, "Where are you?"

"No one came."

Yuan Zhixia put away his homework slowly, came to Li Sheng with a tea cup, and suddenly said seriously: "Two thousand three hundred and twenty-seven thousand one hundred and thirteen and six cents."

Li Sheng was confused by this string of numbers, "What does it mean?"

"The price of a fine quality [Relic Ash Bomb]."

Yuan Zhixia took a sip of tea and said with a smile, "Am I right? Mr. Fling?"

"Alas" Li Sheng sighed, without much surprise on his face, and politely extended his palm, "I didn't expect to meet on this occasion, Stack Wizard."

"???"

Yuan Zhixia, who had already prepared her lines, almost spat out her tea, "Who the hell is the Stack Raider?!"

In a southern province, a young man in a plaid shirt who was typing codes in an Internet company's office building sneezed inexplicably.