This Game Is Too Realistic

In the sunny harbor, a tall cargo ship docked quietly at the pier.

And in the cabin of the cargo ship, an unconscious man was lying on his back on the bed.

Perhaps the sound of seagulls outside the window disturbed his dream. The tightly closed eyes suddenly twitched, and then opened with a violent cough. "Ahem--!"

Looking at the man who suddenly coughed, the doctor put away the stethoscope in his hand, looked at Arman sitting aside and said.

"It seems nothing serious. Just rest for a while and you'll be fine." Arman breathed a sigh of relief and looked at the doctor and said sincerely.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, this is my job."

The doctor nodded slightly and stood up from the chair as if he didn't want to say anything more.

He is a native of Golden Gallen Port, in other words a Borneo, and his treatment of the Willant people is purely out of professional ethics that cannot ignore death.

If it weren't for this, he wouldn't want to say a word to the person in front of him.

Although the survivors of Borneo once worshiped these big noses as gods, that is a thing of the past. At least in Golden Gallen Harbor, the Wilrants have lost their aura.

Armen sent him out of the door, then came back after a moment and looked at the compatriot who had sat up on the bed and said.

"You feel better?"

Henk nodded blankly and stared at him for a while as if he didn't understand the situation. Then he looked beyond the small and damp room and looked out the window.

In the distance was a pleasant harbor, with its well-proportioned marble buildings and the fountain statue standing in the harbor square. Every scene reminded him of the "spiritual home" he had not returned to for a long time - the City of Triumph.

Those things seemed to have been copied from Triumph City.

In addition to those marble buildings, there was another row of boxy concrete buildings and buildings with red bricks and bright tiles, which had a different style that he had never seen before.

What is even more impressive is the bustling streets and busy scene, even compared with the most prosperous ports in the New World.

At this moment, a bird with white feathers flapped its wings and landed on the windowsill, pecked at his armpit, and then stared at him innocently.

Looking at that clear and stupid look, he suddenly had the urge to feed it French fries...

This must be a seagull.

But then again, what are French fries?

Seemingly seeing that he didn't say anything for a long time, the seagull flew away realistically.

Looking at the feather that fell on the window sill, Henk finally came to his senses and realized that he hadn't answered his savior's question yet, so he spoke sheepishly.

"I'm much better. Thank you for saving my life... By the way, my name is Henk. I come from the New World. Where is this place?"

Looking at Henk who was embarrassed to introduce himself, Arman didn't pay attention and just smiled gently and said. ..

"My name is Arman. This is Golden Gallon Port. We need to purchase some supplies here and see if anyone else wants to board the ship. In addition, the other people who were rescued with you have all landed here. , you were the last to wake up."

Henk didn't realize where it was at first, but he just felt that the word sounded familiar.

But then he remembered the joke a certain sailor made with him before boarding the ship, saying that he should never sail to Golden Gallon Port, which was the territory of the locals in Borneo Province. If he was caught, his nose would be cut off.

Henk's face turned pale for a moment.

He was not worried that the rumor was true. After all, it would be difficult for anyone to connect the locals and aborigines when they saw this bustling port.

But he is an arms dealer after all, and he still delivers arms to the enemies of the locals.

Even if his nose is not cut off, he will probably be jailed.

Looking at Henk who suddenly turned pale, Arman probably guessed something in his mind, and even saw his former self from that worried face.

Most people who think they can stay out of it are actually already involved. People who fantasize about being able to fish in troubled waters are actually soaking in the muddy water without even realizing it.

The momentary luck was just that the time had not come yet.

He almost lost everything because of a promise he couldn't keep.

But Arman didn't say anything, he just asked with concern. "Do you feel uncomfortable?"

"No..." Henk smiled awkwardly, his face turned pale, he looked out the window again, his Adam's apple moved and said, "I...can't I get off the boat?"

There was a hint of pleading in his voice.

Arman nodded and said in a gentle tone.

"Of course, but it may take some time for us to return to West Sailing Port. You have to stay on the ship for a month or two."

"It doesn't matter!"

Henk felt relieved and immediately said, "Just let me follow you...I can help with some things."

Arman smiled and said.

"You should recover from your injuries first, and we'll talk about this later when you can get out of bed and move around."

Henk, who felt relieved, looked at him and asked. "Speaking of which, what kind of business do you do?" Arman thought for a while and asked.

"I don't know how to describe my business, but my partner calls me a snakehead."

"Snake...head?"

Looking at the confused Henk, Arman nodded and explained concisely.

"Pull the survivors here to the southern coast of Haiyia Province, where there are several alliance settlements. It's that simple."

This sounds similar to slave trading, but instead of collecting money from slave owners, you collect money from... slaves?

But where do slaves get their money?

Henk was puzzled and asked with a confused look on his face. "How much can those natives give you?"

Arman didn't hide anything and told him frankly.

"Of course they can't give it now, but they can owe it first. We will help them go to their new home, help them settle there, help them find jobs, and then use part of their future wages to repay them before they get on the ship. Debt owed.”

Can you still play like this? ! Hunk was shocked.

"Your business model is great!"

If the ticket price was 1 million dinars, wouldn't it be able to pluck a person's wool until he died?

Knowing that he must have gone astray, and even guessed what he had gone astray, Arman just smiled lightly and did not explain.

Debt cannot increase indefinitely, and the alliance's legal and regulatory agencies are not fools.

However, this is too troublesome to explain, including what he is doing now, which seems to be just transporting people there, but in fact there is a whole set of essential processes behind it.

"...It's not bad. Although it can't be compared with the arms trade, it's better than safety. The people of the Southern Legion ignored us. The population of Xifan Port is surplus to them. They don't need that many people. . People from the alliance will take care of us if they see us. They are carrying out big projects in the southern sea area, which is when they are short of manpower."

As soon as he heard about the arms, Henk felt a pang of pain in his heart. The cargo of the three ships was worth at least 30 million dinars, not to mention the money of the three ships.

Although he had insured both the cargo and the ship, it was torpedoed and sunk... and he wasn't sure if that was covered.

And the most terrible thing is that if this war continues and more and more insured ships are sunk, the insurance company may go bankrupt.

When he returns to the New World, it's hard to say whether the company he insured with is still there. Henke had given up all hope that he would ever get the money back.

Now we can only take one step at a time...

·.···.

Just when a certain unlucky arms dealer planned to follow Arman's fleet to try his luck on the alliance's territory, a battle of unprecedented scale finally started in the land of Borneo.

The 300,000th Army of the Southern Army took the lead in attacking the west side of Ridpur County, and exchanged fire with the 300,000th, 40th, and 50thousandth Army units stationed there on the west side of Sunrise Lake.

Before arriving in Ridbull County, the 300,000-man team of the Southern Army had already destroyed a thousand-man armored team. The gap in strength between the two sides was huge.

Especially before the Southern Army sent troops, the commander of the Lion State Theater in Borneo ordered to dig a large number of tunnels and "rat holes" in Ridpur County.

If the 300,000th Army of the Southern Army chooses to attack by force, even if they still have two-thirds of their tanks and a large number of armored personnel carriers left, they will still have to pay a heavy price.

However, in theory it is.

When the airship of the Southern Army arrived at the front line, the advantage of the Borneo Army was suddenly gone.

The rain of bullets covered the sky like locusts.

As if to show off their firepower, the Wilantes even equipped the indirect fire shells with tracers.

"hidden!!!"

Seeing the approaching death, the Centurion of Borneo lying on the battlefield let out a desperate roar.

The soldiers crawling in the foxholes pressed their foreheads against the soil, clenched their fists or held tokens of family members, and prayed silently in their hearts.

The roaring rain of bullets was approaching.

The shells exploded before reaching the ground, scattering into more fine and dense rain of light, covering every inch of soil in the position without distinction.

The flames of the explosion plowed through the position, burning the gravel and rubble, and lifted the dust from the ground to the sky.

The slightest trace of smoke rose upwards, and the noisy land suddenly became silent. That's a cluster bomb.

Not even a living piece of grass will be left in the place washed by that thing... let alone a living person.

In the command vehicle more than ten kilometers away.

Ryan, captain of the 300,000th Army and commander of the Eastern Front, stared at the image on the holographic screen with a sinking expression.

That was an aerial photograph taken by the Horn airship.

On the land that had been plowed by artillery fire, not even a single human figure could be found, not even a complete body.

However, not long after, another moving human head appeared in the corner of the screen.

Seeing this scene, Ryan's eyes narrowed slightly.

The Borneo Army position was washed over and over again by him, but the Borneo soldiers came in wave after wave like endless locusts.

He was about to order another round of barrage coverage when the communicator hanging on his shoulder suddenly vibrated twice.

Ryan reached out and pressed the communicator, and soon the annoying voice came from the other end of the communication channel.

"...Dear Commander, although I don't want to disturb your enjoyment, I still have to remind you that one-third of our ammunition has been consumed."

The man who spoke was the Captain of the Horn, a Captain of Ten Thousands from Arvent.

Ryan frowned and said with an unhappy expression.

"Didn't we purchase a batch of ammunition from the Western Legion?"

Captain of the Horn: "That's right...but the news I received here is that only four of the ten transport ships that were originally scheduled to arrive yesterday arrived."

Ryan: "....What do you mean?"

Captain of the Horn: "You should be able to guess it. It's obviously the Alliance's fault. It is said that their submarines are attacking our allies' transport ships, although they argue that it is Laken who did it. Our supply situation is pretty good at the moment. Good, but no one can say what will happen next, we’d better save a little... What do you think?”

Due to command issues, the relationship between the Air Force and the Army was not harmonious.

This situation not only happens to the Eastern Legion, but also to the other three legions.

Even if two people belong to the same faction and have the same philosophy of conduct, it does not mean that they are true brothers.

Even if the neck is twisted to the right at the same time, there will always be one more right and one less right. The Captain of the Horn's voice had a hint of joking, but Ryan's face completely darkened.

This alliance is really vicious.

I didn't dare to confront them head-on, but I actually picked those transport ships to attack! "...Do you want to continue?"

Listening to the voice coming from the communication channel, Ryan thought for a moment and gave the order.

"Fire one round of white phosphorus bombs over there, and I'll leave the rest to the infantry." The captain of the Bugle quickly answered.

"receive."

Shortly after the order was given, there was a muffled sound like rolling thunder from below the low clouds.

The flames wrapped in thick smoke were like an avalanche falling from the mountain top, rushing towards the position where the steam was rising with overwhelming force.

The Borneo soldiers who came up with reinforcements from the rear had just filled the trenches with their front feet, and then they were showered with a boiling rain of fire.

No matter how hard you try, the flames can't be extinguished.

And even if you get even a little bit of it, it may turn into a flaming ball of fire.

"Ahhh!" "My arm--!"

Screams came one after another, and the trenches were filled with the smell of roasting flesh and blood. It was like hell.

Some soldiers who were set on fire could not bear the severe pain and could only ask their comrades to give them a good pleasure, or put the muzzle of the gun against their chin and do it themselves.

And this is just the beginning.

The destructive power of white phosphorus bombs is not all in the flames, the poisonous gas produced by combustion is also deadly.

For Borneo soldiers who lacked gas masks, they could only bury their faces in the soil and try to use the soft soil to filter the poisonous gas.

However, this homespun method is not always effective, and the poisonous gas released by the white phosphorus bombs still causes huge casualties.

Looking at the burnt black bodies or distorted faces, the soldiers squatting in the trenches gritted their teeth, and their wide eyes were filled with hatred and anger.

They no longer care whether they can go back alive.

They just want to avenge those dead comrades and return all the pain to those Willant people.

Not just the soldiers on the front line, but also the officers standing behind them. Facing an intermittent radio station, Maitar, the captain of the 30,000-man regiment of Borneo, squatting in the shell-proof cave, felt as painful as bleeding.

In just one hour.

He has filled three thousand-man troops towards the front line, and they haven't even seen the shadow of the Weirant people!

This is simply exchanging the lives of his brothers for the cannonballs of the Wilantes!

Fortunately, the Vaillant's shells are not unlimited, and the burning rain of fire seems to be the final madness.

After most of the flames and smoke dissipated, a thousand-man team belonging to the Southern Army was quickly pushed to the front line.

The soldiers were roughly the same height and build, and everything from their military uniforms to the distortion of their facial muscles were surprisingly the same.

Their weapons were all Ripper rifles, and the bayonets hanging under the muzzles exuded a cold light.

Looking at the murderous troops, the Borneo soldiers squatting in the trenches all swallowed their saliva in unison.

That's Legion's Clone Troopers!

It is said that those guys who are not afraid of death are like hyenas. Even if their intestines fall out, they can fight endlessly with their opponents.

Although I heard from brothers in the alliance, those clones were somewhat disabled and their physical fitness was not high.

However, these Borneo soldiers were surprised to find that these disabled guys were stronger than themselves.

At least they have some meat hanging on their bones.

"... Damn, our food and clothing are not as good as these clones." The soldier with the bandage on his head couldn't help but cursed, with envy and anger in his eyes.

The comrade lying next to him grinned and said in a half-joking tone.

"It doesn't matter. My pension has been sent home. My cub will definitely grow stronger than them in the future."

"I heard that your one is seven and a half pounds?" The old guy on the side interrupted with an expression that had never seen the world, "It's true or not!"

The soldier grinned, with a little pride on his proud face. "How can it be false? I weighed it myself! That boy will definitely be taller than me in the future."

The old guy was even more envious and couldn't help but ask. "What can you eat to give birth to such a big child?"

The soldier glanced sideways at him and said with a smile.

"You old guy is so old that you are about to be buried in the ground. Why are you asking?"

The old man's face froze, he glared at him and said. "Can I use it for my son?"

This all caused a burst of laughter. Many old people in the team remembered that this guy said that he had no son.

"Don't worry about what you eat, as long as you eat nothing but dirt, you can grow into a human being."

The LD-47j light machine gun with its broken bracket was mounted in the trench. The machine gunner, who was blinded by one eye, took a deep breath, and then pressed his burnt face against the black butt of the gun.

"Absak said that we don't have to eat dirt anymore, and our descendants don't need it anymore. I hope that bitch keeps his word...otherwise I won't let him go even if I'm a ghost!"

His life was left to that guy.

He had no other demands, he just hoped that the things Absaik promised were not empty words.

Looking at the big-headed soldiers who were making jokes, the centurion on the side scolded them in a low voice.

"Don't interrupt, keep an eye on your front, those big noses are coming!"

"Oh oh oh!" The young man with the rifle in his hand loaded and his head wrapped in a bandage shouted energetically, "Let these dogs come free!"

As someone once said, they had nothing left to lose.

With a sharp whistle, the calm before the storm was completely torn apart. The centurion marching on one side of the team drew his saber and blew the short whistle he held in his mouth.

"Sh--!"

The loud whistle sounded like an arrow, crossing the entire battlefield.

The clone soldiers marching forward in uniform steps, raised their rifles and bayonets almost at the same time, and rushed towards the smoke-filled battlefield under the leadership of the captain.

"Kill!!!"

The shouts of killing shook the heavens and the earth!

The roaring clones charging forward were like jackals taking on human form.

The bayonets pointing straight ahead are their fangs, and they are like gnawers who can speak human language!

The centurion who had spit out the short whistle still raised the saber in his hand and roared with his rough voice.

"dash forward!!"

"Use the rifles in your hands, use your bayonets, fists, teeth and nails, everything you can use! Let your prey stop the dirty breathing!"

"You are the bravest warriors! Those weak rats are vulnerable to you--!"

That fanatical roar boosted the morale of all the clones.

For those who were born in the dueling arena, the man with the rough voice was their father.

But their father had obviously deceived them, and those weak rats were not vulnerable.

The moment they approached 200 meters, the centurion of Borneo who was lying in the trench also blew the short whistle in his mouth, raised his pistol and fired forward. "Hit me!!!"

Unable to suppress the anger in their hearts, the soldiers kneeling on the edge of the trench pulled the triggers in their hands one after another.

Bursts of gunshots resounded across the battlefield, and streaks of orange tracer light flew wildly, outlining the path of the death scythe on the battlefield filled with corpses.

One after another, clone soldiers were pushed to the ground by machine guns, and among them there was also a Wilant captain who fell to the ground and died.

The same goes for the Borneo soldiers lying in the trenches.

The LD-47j machine gun that was missing its bracket had been replaced by two shooters. At this moment, the man operating it had changed from a father of a child to a thirteen-year-old boy.

And the young man with a bandage on his forehead and shouting to come over was shot in the head early and fell to the ground without saying a word.

There is also a man whose son is said to weigh 7 and a half pounds.

The old guy who always quarreled with him never pried out the secret recipe that "can give birth to a big fat boy" from him until his death.

However, he doesn't have to use it anymore.

Soon a team of 100 people was defeated, and then another team of 100 people filled it up.

Then there are teams of thousands, or even ten thousand people!

The crooked battle line was like the teeth of a giant beast, draining away the flesh and blood of every body involved.

The weight of a hundred kilograms should have been the backbone of every family, but when placed on a front line dozens of kilometers wide, it was as light as a feather.

It was not just the Borneos who were bleeding, but also the Werrants who were charging towards the land plowed by artillery fire.

Although the clones listed on the logistics list are not included in the establishment of the five thousand-person troop, they are not even counted as livestock, and the casualties will not be recorded as casualties, but every ten or twelve clone soldiers , there will eventually be a Wilant captain who will charge with him.

In just one morning, the 300,000-man regiment of the Southern Army defeated three Bornean regiments of 10,000-strong troops guarding the hills on the west bank of Sunrise Lake, and advanced the front line a full ten kilometers!

Captain Metall was unwilling to retreat, so he personally led the Thousands of Troops directly under his command to seize the rear and cover the retreat of the friendly forces. Unfortunately, he was shot and killed while blocking the assault of the Thousands of Mechs of the Southern Army.

At this point, the 30,000-strong regiment of Borneo was completely annihilated!

Almost all the more than 12,000 soldiers and officers were lost, and no one survived!

The fourth and fifth thousand men also suffered more than half of their casualties and were forced to move to rear positions.

On the other hand, the 300,000th unit of the Southern Army had only 300 casualties in total.

After losing a thousand-man armored team, Captain Ryan finally got his wish and regained the lost face on the frontal battlefield.

Even if he paid for it nearly 20,000 clone cannon fodder and hundreds of thousands of artillery shells.

The western part of Ridbull County was completely occupied, and a fist of the Southern Army had already pinched the neck of the old lion in Lion City.

The 310,000 and 320,000 troops are entering the battlefield from the southwest and northwest respectively.

Following them to the front line was an armored train loaded with ammunition and weapons, as well as a 902 heavy artillery that was both intimidating and powerful!

The Alliance's fearless air strikes made the logistics troops of the Southern Army fearful, and they only dared to operate under the airspace dominated by armored airships.

However, if they thought that all dangers came from the sky, they would be wrong.

In the southeast of "Li County", billowing wolf smoke is running across the endless wilderness.

Under the cover of 62 "Chimera" armored vehicles, an attack formation of 93 "Plank 3" heavy tanks was rushing towards the southern front of the legion.

Their target was the 340,000th Army of the South.

According to the information collected by Pangolin during its stay in Sailsport, it was a reserve team.

As long as they can penetrate the 340,000th team, they can touch Captain Ryan's anus!

Players of the Skeleton Corps have been looking forward to this upcoming battle for too long.

Especially after seeing how cool the Burning Legion brothers were on the forum, each and every one of them had already been gearing up and wanted to rub their hands into pieces.

A group of airborne infantry can blow up the armored regiment on the opposite side. If it were professionals like them, how could they beat the crap out of those big noses?

Moreover, it is not just their regiment that is about to participate in this battle!

After five days of waiting, the good brothers of the Goblin Corps had returned to the front line on the "Overlord" transport plane, and their cars were driven to the airport outside Tiandu by the pilots of Jingallan Port.

In addition, the Luo Yu brothers who are flying "Thunder" fighter planes will also participate in this battle.

They have no reason to lose!

On the turret of the No. 3 tank, Mole leaned out half his body, holding the communicator and roaring loudly and energetically.

"Bros!"

"The 340,000th team of the Southern Army is only the last twenty kilometers away from us!" "It's time for them to see what the real torrent of steel looks like!"

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, excited roars came from the communication channel.

"Ouch!"