22: Deathly silence

The battlefield, for the first time, became so quiet.

So quiet that one could hear the "woo woo" sound of the wind blowing through the ruins, like the wailing of ghosts.

So quiet that one could hear the "splash-splash" of the distant Suzhou Creek water gently lapping against the embankment.

So quiet that one could hear their own drum-like heartbeat and the "clack-clack" of teeth chattering uncontrollably.

On the offensive positions of the Japanese Army's Third Division, all roaring, shooting, and charging were paused in an instant.

Hundreds and thousands of Soldiers, whether huddled in craters or hiding behind broken walls, were like puppets with their souls collectively snatched away, remaining motionless in various stiff poses.

Their gazes were all fixed intensely in the same direction.

Focused on those two pools of... molten iron, still emitting a dull red glow and rolling heat waves.

A Japanese Army corporal named Matsui had just been shouting hoarsely, urging his recruits to charge forward.

But now, he just knelt on the ground, mouth agape, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth without him even realizing it.

His eyes bulged like two glass balls about to fall out of their sockets; in his pupils were reflected those two pools of slowly cooling steel that represented the Empire's glory.

He remembered the stories he heard from an old monk at the shrine in his hometown when he was a child.

In the stories, the demons who angered Amaterasu-omikami would be incinerated by divine fire from heaven, their bodies and souls destroyed, leaving not even a bone behind.

"Di... Divine punishment..."

Two hoarse, tuneless syllables squeezed out of his throat, and then he suddenly threw himself to the ground, frantically kowtowing toward the Sihang Warehouse, one thud at a time.

"Thump, thump, thump."

His forehead was soon broken, blood mixing with dirt and covering his face, but he seemed not to feel the pain, only repeating the action.

He wasn't the first.

Nor the last.

Panic, like the most terrible plague, spread silently across the Japanese Army's positions.

One Soldier after another threw down their weapons and knelt on the ground, prostrating themselves toward the warehouse that had become a place of gods and demons in their eyes.

Their faith, their belief in the Bushido spirit, and their loyalty to His Majesty the Emperor were completely and ruthlessly crushed before that supernatural power capable of melting steel.

In the frontline headquarters, Major Matsui Keiichi, the nephew of the Japanese Army commander Matsui Iwane, witnessed through binoculars this scene that overturned everything he had learned in his life.

The hand holding the binoculars was trembling violently.

The metal casing of the binoculars was deformed by his grip.

"Report... Report, Major..." The signalman beside him had a voice trembling like a falling leaf in the autumn wind. "What... what should we do now? Should we... should we continue the attack?"

Matsui Keiichi did not answer.

He just slowly lowered the binoculars, his face as pale as paper.

He opened his mouth to give an order, only to find his throat seemingly blocked by something, unable to utter a single word.

He saw it.

He saw it clearly.

On the roof of that warehouse, which was like a demonic cave from hell, a blurry figure stood up.

Then, that figure made a gesture toward his direction... of blowing on the muzzle of a gun.

It was an extremely contemptuous posture, like that of a king after witnessing a boring execution.

"Retreat..."

Matsui Keiichi finally squeezed out two words from between his teeth.

"Full... retreat!"

Unlike the deathly silence dominated by fear on the Japanese Army positions, the interior of the Sihang Warehouse was another kind of silence, shrouded in extreme shock.

On the roof, Shangguan Zhibiao still maintained that pose of mouth agape and eyes wide.

He felt his brain was like a burnt-out engine, still buzzing but having lost all ability to think.

What did he see?

Tanks.

Melted.

By a... by a colorful water gun fired from Mr. Chen's hand, they were melted away?

He used all his strength to raise his hand and gave himself a hard slap.

"Slap!"

Crisp and loud.

The burning pain on his face told him this was not a dream.

The Soldiers behind him were even more overwhelmed than he was.

A young Soldier's rifle fell to the ground with a "clatter," but he didn't even notice.

Another's legs went weak, and he slumped directly onto the ground, muttering to himself: "An immortal... it's an immortal... we're saved..."

And Xie Jinyuan.

This commander, who had always maintained the demeanor of a scholar-general no matter what desperate situation he faced since the start of the war.

At this moment, for the first time, a crack appeared on his usually calm face.

The hand holding the binoculars was trembling violently and uncontrollably.

The eyes behind the lenses stared fixedly at those two pools of still-steaming molten iron below, his gaze filled with a heaven-shaking shock and horror that could no longer be hidden!

As a top graduate of the Whampoa Military Academy, his reason, his knowledge, and all the understanding of the world he had built over the past thirty-plus years were completely shattered at this moment by that silent blue beam, and then reconstructed in an even more absurd and fanatical way.

He finally understood.

He finally understood why Chen Xi, when analyzing the world situation, had that chillingly accurate perspective as if he were looking down at history from a hundred years in the future.

That wasn't analysis.

That was firsthand knowledge.

He wasn't some extraordinary person either.

He was... a god.

A true deity who, for some reason, had descended into this purgatory.

2026, Dragon Country.

In Chen Xi's livestream room, the tens of millions of viewers were collectively speechless.

The screen full of bullet comments had been filled with all kinds of trash talk and teasing when the "water gun" appeared.

But now, all those bullet comments had vanished.

On the screen was a half-minute of absolute blankness.

Everyone just stared blankly at those two pools of still-flowing molten iron, at the ground melted through, and at the air distorted by the high temperature.

Their brains had completely crashed.

A white-haired physics professor, who was doing a live analysis session for a top university, stared at the screen, his lips trembling for a long time.

He adjusted his reading glasses, trying to find a trace of a scientific explanation in that unbelievable footage.

Laser?

Impossible. To reach the energy density required to instantly melt tank armor, the power needed would be enough to instantly overload a small nuclear power plant. And that water gun didn't even have a wire.

Plasma?

Even more impossible! That would require an extremely complex magnetic confinement device and would produce incredibly intense light and heat, rather than being silent like this.

"No... this doesn't follow the conservation of energy... this doesn't follow any known laws of physics... unless... unless..."

The professor muttered to himself, his gaze shifting from initial suspicion and wonder to a fascination mixed with fear and fanaticism.

"Unless, that is a deity displaying His power."

This sentence was clearly captured by the microphone and spread across the entire internet.

The bullet comments in the livestream room, after experiencing a strange deathly silence, finally erupted like a volcanic explosion!

[Holy shit!!!!!!!!!!]

[What the hell did I just see?! I need an explanation! I need a logical explanation!!!]

[Even the physics professor has gone crazy... he said it's a god...]

[This isn't sci-fi anymore, it's xianxia! It's cultivation! Master Xi, you're actually a powerhouse who failed his tribulation, aren't you?!]

[Game company, come out and take your beating! You call this a casual game?! You call this a physics engine?! Einstein's coffin lid can't even hold him down anymore!!!]

Chen Xi slowly stood up from the ground.

He didn't look at the fleeing Japanese Army, nor did he pay attention to the completely petrified friendly forces behind him.

He just looked down at the ridiculously shaped, brightly colored "large water gun" in his hand.

The body of the gun still held a trace of residual warmth after the energy discharge.

His palms were covered in sweat.

The power of this thing had also exceeded his own expectations.

But on the surface, he still maintained that cynical appearance.

He blew on the ridiculous muzzle, as if there were some invisible dust on it.

Then, he turned around and looked at the group of completely stunned National Revolutionary Army Soldiers behind him, led by Xie Jinyuan, and grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth.

"Done."

"Clocking out."