70: Chapter 70 A Cry from Another World

Signal interrupted.

Those cold words floated in the center of the pitch-black screen.

Like a tombstone.

In the Livestream room, that faint green line representing a heartbeat gave one last, unwilling pulse.

Then, it flattened completely into a straight line.

It was as if the world's mute button had been pressed.

One second ago, there was an overwhelming ocean of bullet chats filled with cries and curses.

This second, there was an eerie silence.

It was as if the souls of billions of viewers had been snatched away in that instant... At the "Great Wall" Command Center.

That piercing beep representing the end of life echoed through the massive space.

"Vital signs have disappeared."

"Heartbeat... stopped."

The Chief Medical Expert looked at the flat line on the screen that no longer fluctuated. He took off his glasses, his voice raspy and filled with endless exhaustion and sorrow.

Behind him, his young assistants lowered their heads one by one. Some covered their faces, their shoulders trembling silently.

They had done their best.

Within the boundaries of modern medicine, they had exhausted every means possible.

But they were facing a real battlefield from eighty-nine years ago.

They were facing a certain death—a sacrifice where a body of flesh and blood stood firm against grenades.

Elder Long stood where he was.

Motionless.

He was like a stone statue weathered for a thousand years; every expression on his face had been worn smooth by the long passage of time.

He just stared at the pitch-black screen.

Staring at the white box on the screen that read "Signal Interrupted."

He remembered the scene many years ago, during another war of blood and fire, when he saw off his comrades.

It was just like this.

Quiet.

Desperate.

And then, there was an anger that could burn a soul to ashes... The deathly silence lasted for less than a minute.

And then.

It was a volcanic eruption.

It was the roar of a tsunami.

The sorrow, anger, unwillingness, and heartbreak accumulated over the entire night reached a complete, devastating, and total explosion at this moment.

[NO!!!!!!!!]

[I can't accept this!!!!]

[Why! Why did it happen like this! He already completed the mission! Why!]

[Little Chen is gone, and now even the streamer is gone...]

[Waaaaah... I can't watch this anymore... This isn't a fucking game!]

[Damn system! Damn game company! Give Master Xi back his life!]

Anger.

Despair.

Overwhelming curses and cries spread like a virus from this small Livestream room to the entire internet.

At this moment, global social media was submerged by the same name and the same emotion.

Countless people broke down in tears before their screens.

Countless families stayed awake all through the night.

They weren't mourning a game streamer.

They were mourning a true warrior who, before their very eyes, had written the word "Hero" with his life and will... Consciousness fell into an endless darkness.

Pain.

It could no longer be felt.

Chen Xi felt very light.

Like a feather, slowly drifting down into a windless, deathly abyss.

Is it ending like this?

That's fine too.

He thought of Little Chen.

He thought of that young Soldier who, even before dying, was smiling and asking him to see the future of China on his behalf.

Little Chen, I'm coming.

The future China is very beautiful.

But I might not be able to see it anymore.

He thought of his partner who had sacrificed himself.

That brother who, even before dying, was still telling him to "live on."

I'm sorry.

I might have to break my word.

He felt more and more tired.

He wanted to fall asleep and never wake up again.

Just as his consciousness was about to completely dissipate into the darkness.

In his mind, the cold, mechanical system notification suddenly rang out with an unprecedented, almost frenzied frequency.

[Warning! Warning!]

[Ultra-high intensity "Emotional Energy" injection detected!]

[Value has exceeded the system limit! Unable to calculate!]

[Warning! Spacetime barrier stability is dropping rapidly! 9%... 7%... 5%...]

[Barrier... ruptured!]

...Boom—

A light.

An indescribable, golden light of extreme brilliance tore through the endless darkness in Chen Xi's consciousness.

Following that.

Voices.

Countless voices from another spacetime.

[Hero! Come back!]

That was a retired veteran in his living room, saluting the dark screen with tears in his eyes, letting out a roar.

[Big brother... don't die... didn't you say you'd take me to see the big planes of the future...]

That was a little girl who had just finished listening to her mother tell the story of the "Sihang Warehouse," clutching her tablet and letting out a childish cry.

[Hold on! We're waiting for you to come home!]

That was the most devout shout issued collectively by all the researchers, staff officers, and Soldiers at the "Great Wall" Command Center.

There were prayers from the elderly.

There were roars from the youth.

There were sobs from mothers.

There were calls from children.

The will of billions of people.

The emotions of billions of people.

At this moment, they crossed eighty-nine years of time and space.

They crossed the boundary between life and death.

They converged into an unprecedented, warm, and majestic golden torrent.

It crashed violently into Chen Xi's cold abyss of consciousness that was about to dissipate.

The darkness receded.

The cold vanished.

That soul-tearing pain seemed to be gently smoothed over by this warm power.

The dying spark of Chen Xi's life.

Under the nourishment of this golden torrent.

It caught a spark once more.

Then, a flame.

Finally, a raging fire!

...2026, Secret Medical Room.

On the ECG monitor, that straight line representing death had lasted for nearly three minutes.

The Chief Medical Expert was preparing to issue the order to "give up resuscitation."

Suddenly.

"Beep."

A sound, extremely faint yet incredibly clear, broke the deathly silence in the room.

Everyone was stunned.

They looked at the monitor.

On that straight line, a tiny, almost negligible blip appeared.

Was it an equipment malfunction?

That thought flashed through everyone's mind.

"Beep... beep..."

Another sound.

This time, it was clearer than the last.

The blip was also slightly larger.

It wasn't a malfunction!

"Quick! Epinephrine!"

"Prepare the defibrillator!"

The Chief Medical Expert seemed to have aged twenty years younger in an instant as he let out an excited roar.

The entire medical team sprang into frantic action once again.

In the Livestream room.

That straight line representing the heartbeat also showed a tiny fluctuation.

The bullet chats stopped.

That ocean composed of tears and "R.I.P." froze instantly.

[Are... are my eyes playing tricks on me?]

A viewer sent a trembling bullet chat.

[It moved! That line moved!]

[Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit! A heartbeat! It's a heartbeat!]

Silence.

After a brief quiet.

Came a tsunami of bullet chats more frenzied and violent than any before!

This time, it was no longer sorrow and anger.

It was ecstasy!

It was the unbelievable ecstasy of surviving a disaster!

[He's alive! He's alive!!!!]

[A medical miracle! This is a fucking medical miracle!]

[Waaaaah... I knew it! I knew Master Xi wouldn't die!]

[Hero! Return!]

...1937, Sihang Warehouse.

On the battlefield, there was still a dead silence.

That mangled figure, pinned behind a load-bearing pillar by the Japanese Army's crossfire.

Lay on the ground, motionless.

As if he had long since lost all signs of life.

Suddenly.

His blood-stained hand, resting on the edge of the debris.

The index finger.

Gently.

Twitched.