100: Chapter 100 A Vow in the Dark

The briefing was over.

On the screen, the "Jinling Spark Project," which carried the future of the nation, finally froze in place.

But those vivid faces and their fates, which shouldn't have ended this way, were like branding irons, searing deep into Chen Xi's soul.

He didn't speak again.

He just silently turned around.

He walked toward the cold alloy door leading to the Gaming Pod.

Elder Long, Elder Qian, and all the experts in the Command Center stood up.

They formed a silent, watching wall.

No one spoke a word of farewell.

No one said a single "take care."

Because everyone knew that such words were pale and powerless in the face of the living hell that was about to come.

Chen Xi walked up to the Gaming Pod.

He stopped.

He looked at the mirror-smooth pod door, reflecting his own face—calm to the point of being somewhat unfamiliar.

His gaze penetrated the metal layer, as if seeing the elegance of the scholars on that list, the perseverance of the craftsmen, and the compassion of the healers.

He also saw, beyond that list, the three hundred thousand innocent souls who were wailing.

And Little Chen.

That young Soldier who, at the last moment of his life, smiled and said to him, "See the future for me."

(Little Chen, can you see?)

(I've got the list.)

(This time, I'm not only going to protect, I'm also going to...)

He slowly raised his hand and lightly touched his chest.

That blood-colored button seemed to respond to him, transmitting a cold, hard sensation.

He turned around.

Facing Elder Long, and facing all the brains of the nation in the Command Center who had worked tirelessly for him.

His voice was very soft.

Yet very heavy.

"This time."

"I am going there to carry out judgment."

After saying this, he no longer lingered.

Resolutely, he lay down into that "coffin" prepared for him, leading to hell.

The alloy door slowly closed in front of him.

Isolating two worlds.

"Connection sequence, start."

A cold mechanical voice sounded.

Darkness instantly submerged him.

Immediately following was a world-spinning sensation.

His consciousness was like being violently pulled from his body by an invisible giant hand and thrown into a high-speed rotating space-time vortex composed of countless light streams and data.

[Detected that the player is ready...]

[Matching next stage mission...]

[Space-time beacon locked...]

The system's cold mechanical voice echoed slowly in the darkness.

[Target Location: Nanjing.]

[Target Time: December 13, 1937.]

[Wishing you... a pleasant game.]

Amidst that final blessing, filled with malice and mockery.

Chen Xi's consciousness was violently dragged by an irresistible force toward that abyss named "Nanjing."

He didn't know how much time had passed.

Perhaps only a moment, or perhaps as long as a century.

All the clamor disappeared.

All the tearing sensations disappeared too.

He could smell something now.

A thick, inseparable smell of gunpowder smoke, mixed with a faint, nauseating scent of blood.

He could hear sounds now.

From the distance came dense sounds of gunfire and artillery, like beans popping in a pan.

And some more distant, intermittent cries and screams carried by the wind.

His senses were returning, one by one.

Finally, it was vision.

He snapped his eyes open.

What entered his sight was the evening sky.

It was a strange, dark red, as if soaked in endless blood.

Soaring flames burned the clouds at the horizon into the most ominous shapes.

Chen Xi slowly sat up from the cold earth.

He looked down.

He saw an unknown, small white wildflower by his feet.

It was blooming poignantly.

On one petal, there was a drop of dark red blood that had long since dried.