45: The fall of a hero

The crater was still smoking.

Wisps of black smoke curled out from the scorched earth, drifting to the second-floor window and into Chen Xi's nose.

The smell of char. The stench of flesh burnt through, mixed with the pungent odor of gunpowder residue. Inhaling it into the lungs made the throat sting.

He leaned on the windowsill, his fingers digging into the gaps between the bricks. Where his nails had been torn, the blood had scabbed over, then cracked again. Fresh blood seeped out, flowing down his fingers and dripping onto the windowsill.

Drip.

It was very faint, but in that silence, it could be heard clearly.

No one moved at the gap below.

The Japanese Soldiers retreated thirty meters away, huddling together. Their muzzles were lowered; no one raised them. They stared at that crater, their eyes wide. Someone's lips were trembling, muttering something that couldn't be heard.

The defenders didn't move either.

Shangguan Zhibiao leaned against the wall, his entire arm stained red by the blood from his left shoulder. He hadn't bandaged it; he just leaned there, looking at the crater. His face was covered in dust and blood, only his eyes were bright, staring fixedly.

Other Soldiers stood or crouched, all looking in the same direction.

The crater wasn't large. Three or four meters in diameter with irregular edges, where collapsed bricks and earth mixed together in a charred black mess. There was something at the bottom of the crater, but it was impossible to see clearly. Scraps of cloth? Bone fragments? It was indistinguishable.

A circle of items was scattered around the crater.

Half a rifle butt, half-burnt cotton wadding, an overturned leather boot with a hole in the sole. There was also a piece of khaki cloth, possibly a uniform sleeve, hanging on a severed rebar, swaying in the wind.

Wind poured in through the gap, carrying the dampness from the riverbank. It blew across the crater, curling the smoke into the warehouse.

The smoke wafted onto Chen Xi's face.

He blinked. His eyelids were heavy, as if weighted with lead.

There was a buzzing in his ears. The echo of the explosion hadn't dissipated, stuffed into his ear canals, muffled. Other sounds became distant, as if separated by a layer of water.

He saw Shangguan Zhibiao move.

Shangguan propped himself against the wall and stood straight. His legs were a bit shaky, but he stood firm. He turned to face the Soldiers who could still stand and said something.

Chen Xi couldn't hear him.

Judging by the shape of his mouth, it seemed to be "clean up."

The Soldiers began to move. Dragging the wounded, picking up guns, moving sandbags that were still usable. Their movements were slow, like rusted machinery. No one spoke.

By the crater, the Japanese Soldiers also began to move.

The officer was shouting, waving his saber. The Soldiers turned and retreated. It wasn't a run like a charge, but a retreat, looking back every few steps, their eyes still fixed on the crater.

They retreated fifty meters away and stopped. They set up their guns again and crouched down.

They hadn't left. They were still there.

But the gap was temporarily empty.

Chen Xi let go of the windowsill. His fingers were stiff and wouldn't straighten. He looked down at his palms, which were covered in blood and dust, mixed into a blackish-red.

He turned around, leaned his back against the wall, and slid down to sit on the floor.

The brick wall was icy cold, seeping through his padded coat. With the back of his head against the wall, he could feel it vibrating slightly. Perhaps it was an illusion.

He opened the system interface.

Data popped up on his retina. Row after row of blue, white, and red.

[Real-time Viewer emotion points Collection], [Peak Breakthrough Threshold], [Historical Record Refreshed]... the numbers were jumping.

Jumping crazily. Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands. Like a frantic stopwatch that wouldn't stop.

Chen Xi stared at those numbers.

He remembered the words in the Outline: "Viewer emotion points began to skyrocket at an unprecedented and terrifying speed."

It was indeed terrifying.

But he didn't feel much. Those numbers felt like they belonged to someone else, separated by a pane of glass. No matter how much they rose, they couldn't fill that crater below.

He closed the interface.

Over in the livestream room, the bullet chat finally moved.

It started with one.

["..."]

Then two, then three.

[Little Chen!]

[Little Chen!!!]

Then it exploded.

The screen was filled with words, overlapping until they were illegible. But some could be recognized.

[Fucking hell!!!]

[I'm crying]

[I'm really crying]

[It's not a game]

[This isn't a fucking game]

[Little Chen!!!]

[Hero!]

[Salute!]

[Salute!!]

[Salute!!!]

The last word flooded the screen. Row after row, column after column, completely covering the image. Densely packed, like an avalanche.

Chen Xi couldn't see the livestream image. But he could imagine it.

He leaned against the wall and sat for a long time.

Until the sound of footsteps approached.

Shangguan Zhibiao walked up to the second floor and turned into the corridor. He walked very slowly, his left arm in a sling made of a crudely tied strip of cloth. Blood was still seeping through; the cloth was so red it had turned black.

He walked up to Chen Xi and stopped.

He looked down at Chen Xi.

Chen Xi looked up at him.

The two looked at each other for a few seconds.

Shangguan Zhibiao's lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Then he turned, walked to the other side of the corridor, crouched down, and began to check a wounded Soldier's injury.

His hands were trembling.

Chen Xi saw his hands trembling.

There were other sounds in the corridor. The soft, suppressed moans of the wounded. The sound of someone moving things, of broken bricks scraping against the floor. There were sporadic gunshots in the distance, coming from who knows where.

But all these sounds were separated by a layer.

The buzzing in Chen Xi's ears still hadn't faded.

He propped himself against the wall and stood up. His legs were numb, feeling like needles were pricking them. He stomped his feet; blood rushed to his soles, and the numbness slowly receded.

He walked to the window from before and looked down.

The crater was still there.

The smoke had cleared a bit, making the bottom of the crater visible. Charred earth, broken stones, and some metal fragments reflecting light. No intact objects could be seen.

Something glinted at the edge of the crater.

Chen Xi squinted.

It was a button. Copper, the kind on National Revolutionary Army uniforms. Half-buried in the dirt and half-exposed, it caught the sunlight and flashed for a moment.

Just for a moment. A cloud covered the sun, and the button went dark.

Chen Xi turned and left the window.

He walked along the corridor, his feet stepping over broken bricks and through pools of blood. The blood wasn't dry yet, sticking to his feet as he stepped. He reached the stairwell and stopped.

Downstairs, the Soldiers were cleaning up.

They moved their fallen comrades to one side and lined them up, covering their faces with whatever cloth they could find. Those still alive bandaged each other's wounds. No one spoke, only heavy breathing could be heard.

Chen Xi watched them.

He watched for a long time.

Then the system's voice sounded in his mind. It wasn't a notification sound, but that cold, mechanical voice, poured directly into his consciousness.

[Host's mental state fluctuation detected], [Recommendation: Go offline temporarily to rest], [Confirm?]

Chen Xi didn't answer.

He walked to the stairwell landing, found a corner, and sat down.

Leaning his back against the wall, he stared at the ceiling.

There was a hole in the ceiling, through which the wooden beams above could be seen. The beams were charred and pitch black.

He remembered Little Chen's final smile.

He remembered what Little Chen had said.

"See the future China for me."

The voice was still in his ears, mixed with the echo of the explosion, buzzing.

Chen Xi closed his eyes.

In the darkness, that smile became even clearer. The corners of the mouth were pulled wide, with traces of blood on the teeth. The eyes were bright, terrifyingly so.

He opened his eyes.

The system interface popped up again.

The numbers for emotion points were still rising. They had already reached a number of digits he had never seen before, followed by a string of zeros.

He stared at those zeros.

He watched for a long time.

Then he spoke, his voice so hoarse he didn't even recognize it himself.

"System."

[Please provide instructions]

"Wasn't this supposed to be a casual game?"

The system was silent for two seconds.

[In Real Mode, the death of an NPC is irreversible]

"NPC?" Chen Xi repeated the word.

[Yes]

Chen Xi laughed.

The sound was squeezed from his throat, very low, like a cough and a gasp. After he finished laughing, he took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of char and blood.

He stood up.

His legs were no longer numb. His hands were no longer trembling.

He walked to the stairs and looked down.

The Soldiers were still cleaning up. Shangguan Zhibiao was giving water to a wounded Soldier, his movements very careful.

Chen Xi watched for a while.

Then he turned and walked toward the third floor.

His feet stepped on the stairs, one step at a time. Very steady.

He reached the third-floor stairwell and stopped.

He looked out the window.

In the distance, the Japanese Soldiers' positions were still there. Figures moved, and helmets reflected the light.

Chen Xi watched for a while.

Then he whispered to the air, as if talking to himself, or as if telling someone.

"From today on."

"Things are different."