19: Chapter 19 Swift Movement! Swift Movement!

Violent coughing made him double over, every tremor pulling at the nerves in his lungs and bringing waves of excruciating, blood-tinged pain.

"Shut up! Breathe through your nose!" The veteran next to him slapped his back with enough force to nearly send him tumbling into a snowdrift.

"Do you want to freeze your lungs solid?"

Jack was coughing up tears, but he dared not stop.

Because if his steps slowed even slightly, the people behind him would crash right into him.

This was a torrent of steel, sweeping everyone forward; stopping meant being trampled, being abandoned.

How was this a game? This was clearly an execution.

Two hours later.

The column slowed slightly as they passed through a leeward mountain hollow.

Brother Bao kept observing the red [Stamina Bar].

After meticulous calculation, he discovered that the rate at which the Stamina Bar decreased was directly related to wind resistance, slope, and load.

"This mechanism is too hardcore."

Brother Bao gasped for air, the thin rubber sole of his shoe long since soaked through. His soles felt like they were resting on two steel plates, both numb and aching.

He glanced at the crevice in the nearby rock.

It was a natural shelter, two massive stones forming a corner that perfectly shielded them from the direct blast of the north wind.

"Jack, Dai Dai, over here.", Brother Bao lowered his voice and beckoned to the two.

Taking advantage of the cover of night, the three of them quietly slipped out of the marching column and squeezed into the rock crevice.

As soon as they entered, the sound of the wind indeed lessened considerably.

Brother Bao brought up the panel, pointed at the Stamina Bar that was slowly recovering, and a hint of smugness appeared on his face:

"See? I knew it. This kind of physics engine must have blind spots in its judgment. If we stop here for three minutes every half hour to recover health using the system's judgment of 'non-combat status,' we can save 30% of our stamina compared to others."

He even took out a handful of roasted flour from his ration bag, intending to take the opportunity to replenish his Satiety level.

Dai Dai huddled in the corner, rubbing her ankle. Her face was covered in chilblains, and her snot had frozen into icicles, making her look utterly wretched.

"Brother Bao, is this really okay?" Dai Dai asked quietly, "The Commander said stragglers are counted as deserters..."

"That's just to scare the NPCs.", Brother Bao casually stuffed a mouthful of roasted flour into his mouth.

"This is a game. As long as we arrive at the destination on time in the end, the system doesn't care how we traveled in between. This is the difference between veteran players and regular players; you have to learn to exploit the rules."

Jack leaned against the rock. Although he felt something was off, the warmth of being sheltered from the wind was too tempting; even one more second there felt like heaven.

Just as Brother Bao was about to swallow that mouthful of roasted flour.

A few clumps of loose snow suddenly fell from above the rock crevice.

A foot wearing a large, black leather boot landed on the edge of the rock directly above Brother Bao's head.

Brother Bao froze for a moment and looked up.

A figure wearing a peaked cap and an overcoat stood against the moonlight, looking down at them from above.

His face couldn't be seen, only the dark, gleaming Mauser pistol held in his hand, its muzzle pointed directly at Brother Bao's forehead.

It was the Military Police unit responsible for rounding up stragglers.

"Is this your 'rule'?"

The voice carried not a shred of warmth; it was colder than the north wind outside.

Brother Bao instinctively tried to explain: "Officer, we are just resting for a moment, this is a tactical adjustment..."

Click.

The sound of the hammer being cocked was exceptionally crisp in the silent rock crevice.

"Tactical adjustment?" The Military Policeman jumped down directly, the impact of his landing kicking up snow spray.

He strode up to Brother Bao, his eyes devoid of any AI's dullness, only containing an anger that sent a chill straight through the bone.

"Thirty li ahead, the Second Battalion is running until they vomit blood just to secure a position. And you talk to me about tactical adjustments here?"

The Military Policeman grabbed Brother Bao by the collar and lifted him up, slamming him against the cold rock wall.

"Look at your comrades!" The Military Policeman pointed toward the gray serpent winding through the blizzard outside.

"Do they not have stamina? Don't they know fatigue? Did you think wearing this uniform was for your leisure?"

The roasted flour scattered all over the ground from Brother Bao's hand. He wanted to retort, wanted to say this was just a game, but looking at those bloodshot eyes, all those words were choked in his throat.

"System Notification: Military Discipline Penalty triggered."

[Morale reduced by 50 points.]

[All Attributes decreased by 20%.]

[Negative Status Gained: Shame (Cannot receive assistance from any NPCs until shame is washed away)]."

That line of red warning text flashed directly in the center of Brother Bao's retina, glaringly unmissable.

The Military Policeman released his grip. Brother Bao slid down the rock wall and sat on the ground, panting heavily.

"Remember this.", The Military Policeman holstered his pistol and swept his gaze over Jack and Dai Dai, who were huddled nearby.

"Here, there is only one shortcut."

He pointed to his own chest.

"If you can't swallow this insult, you have to keep running. Run until you die, or run until you win."

The Military Policeman turned and walked back into the blizzard, leaving only one final sentence: "Keep up. Next time, I will enforce battlefield discipline on your behalf for your company commander."

The rock crevice fell into a deathly silence.

The slight warmth that had been generated by sheltering from the wind had completely vanished.

Brother Bao stared at the scattered roasted flour on the ground, his face pale.

His proud gaming experience had been smashed to pieces in this world called 'Chosin Lake.' The algorithms here did not obey logic; they only obeyed will.

"Let's go."

Jack pushed himself up using the wall. His legs were trembling, and it wasn't just from the cold.

"This game..." Jack gritted his teeth, forcibly suppressing the thought of giving up.

"People really die here."

The three of them squeezed out of the rock crevice and rejoined the silent marching column.

This time, no one spoke, and no one tried to find shelter from the wind anymore.

The blizzard grew stronger, and the path ahead was completely obscured.

The only thing visible was the patch of hard, white frost where their comrades' sweat had soaked their uniforms in front of them, serving as the sole marker.

Jack mechanically moved his legs.

Left foot, right foot.

The burning sensation in his lungs grew stronger. With every step, his toes sent a piercing pain up his leg.

It was a signal of poor blood circulation, a precursor to frostbite.

But he dared not stop.

Because he began to see people collapsing by the roadside.

Not because they were shot, nor because of bombing.

Those people simply kept walking and then suddenly went limp as if their bones had been pulled out.

A young soldier fell in front of Jack.

Jack instinctively tried to help him up, but he was shoved away by the veteran behind him.

"Don't stop!" the veteran roared, his voice carrying an almost cruel finality.

"The medics will handle it! If you stop, you'll fall too!"

Jack looked back.

The fallen soldier was still struggling to get up, his hands clawing at the snow on the ground, his fingernails full of blood.

His lips were moving, seemingly saying, "Don't leave me... I can still run..."

But soon, the column behind them bypassed him.

The blizzard quickly covered his body, turning him into a small white mound.

Jack turned back, staring fixedly ahead.

The tears that started to fall immediately froze at the corners of his eyes, stinging painfully.

This was one hundred li.

This was the first lesson without a tutorial.

On this road, there were no respawn points, no saves.

You either forged yourself into a piece of iron, or you would be buried by the endless blizzard, becoming a stone beneath the roadbed.

On the horizon, the first ray of dawn was arduously piercing the darkness.

And in that direction, the outline of Hŭichŏn was vaguely visible. But also visible were the cannon roars coming from that direction, like muffled thunder.

The real hell had only just opened its gates.