2: Chapter 2: Widespread ridicule online – Where did this cheesy game come from?

"Brothers, today some reckless small studio actually threw one hundred thousand yuan at me to play a domestic VR game called 'ice and snow world'."

On the Doulang Streaming Platform, the top streamer "Madman Jack," who had five million followers, sat with his legs crossed, looking completely disdainful.

Jack was a typical "American-style spirited youth," his room covered in posters of Western superheroes. He loved going on mindless killing sprees in games and looked down on any domestic titles.

The live stream's bullet chat scrolled frantically:

"Jack, they're clearly just riding your coattails!"

"A domestic FPS is playable? I bet even the reload animations are copied."

"One hundred thousand yuan is that easy to earn? Jack, go mow them down, and do a giveaway for the brothers tonight!"

"Family, watch me beat this in ten minutes!" Jack grabbed the top-tier VR headset from the table and put it on. "If I don't beat it in ten minutes, I'll eat my keyboard right here!"

The screen went black.

[Welcome to 'ice and snow world'.]

[Please select your class.]

Several options appeared before Jack's eyes. He didn't even look at the Medic or Signalman; his gaze locked directly onto [Infantryman].

The description below read: [Infantryman: The highest casualty rate, and the one who charges at the very front. You will need to face tanks and machine guns head-on.]

"Highest casualty rate? That's more like it! Protagonists are always infantrymen!" Jack laughed arrogantly. "Face tanks head-on? Watch me blow up a tank with a rifle! I know the tropes of these hack-and-slash games too well!"

He pressed the confirm button without hesitation.

[Loading complete. Difficulty: Easy Mode.]

The darkness faded.

Whoosh—!!!

An extremely shrill sound of wind suddenly poured into Jack's ears. This wasn't a sound effect; it was actual howling wind.

Jack shuddered violently. He found himself lying in a snowy field, surrounded by darkness, with only faint glimmers of fire in the distance.

"Hiss—so cold! What kind of crappy haptic system is this? Why is it so realistic?" Jack exhaled a puff of white air, feeling his fingers grow stiff. He looked down; he was wearing a pitifully thin, tattered cotton coat and rubber shoes.

In his weapon slot, there was only a heavily worn old-fashioned rifle and five bullets.

The five million people in the live stream were also stunned.

"What happened to the mindless hack-and-slash? Why does this gear look like a beggar's?"

"Starting with five bullets? This must be a survival game!"

Jack curled his lip. "False advertising, a common trick for small studios. But it doesn't matter; watch me charge out and steal the enemy's machine gun..."

Before he could finish, a sharp whistling sound suddenly came from the sky.

Swish—!

Behind the scenes, Su Yun sat looking at Jack's data and typed a command on his keyboard: [pain synchronization rate, increased to 10%.]

Since he wanted to reshape their backbones, how could it be done without shedding some blood?

In the game, before Jack could even stand up, the sky above suddenly lit up as bright as day.

Several fighter jets bearing US military markings roared past.

"Holy crap, planes! Are they dropping super weapons for me?" Jack looked up excitedly.

The next second, several massive black cylinders plummeted from the sky.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

It wasn't an airdrop; it was napalm.

A massive fireball exploded thirty meters in front of Jack, and a terrifying heatwave instantly swept over him like a tidal wave.

"Ah!!!"

Jack let out a shrill scream. The 10% pain synchronization made him clearly feel the stinging sensation of his skin being scorched by the intense fire. He was blown away by the air blast, landing heavily in the snow, his ears filled with a buzzing tinnitus.

The FPS movement he was so proud of was nothing but a joke in the face of such carpet bombing.

"Get down! Don't move!"

A rough, powerful hand suddenly pressed down on his back, pinning him firmly into a snow pit.

Jack turned his head in terror and saw an NPC whose face was covered in soot. Half of the man's eyebrows were singed off, but his eyes held a beast-like ferocity. He had a tag on his chest: Squad Leader Old Li.

"Are you crazy?! The enemy bombers are in the sky; are you standing up to look for death?" Old Li roared, his voice hoarse.

Jack was stunned. He had played countless games, and the NPCs were always wooden figures who just read lines. But the anxiety and anger in Old Li's eyes were so real they made his skin crawl.

"I... I have to get a gun and kill the enemy! I'm the protagonist!" Jack stammered.

"Kill my ass! Our mission is to transport ammunition to the front to repair the bridge!" Old Li grabbed Jack by the collar.

Just then, another piercing shriek came.

A stray shell landed precisely five meters away from them.

"Get down!"

Old Li suddenly lunged at Jack, shielding him with his own body.

Puchi—!

Jack clearly heard the sound of a sharp object cutting through flesh. A warm liquid splashed across his face.

The bombing passed, and silence returned to the surroundings.

Shaking, Jack pushed Old Li off him. Old Li's back had been torn open by a large piece of shrapnel, and blood stained the white snow beneath him red.

"Squad... Squad Leader..." Jack swallowed hard. Was this really a game? This smell of blood, this tactile sensation—how could it be so realistic!

Blood oozed from the corners of Old Li's mouth. He gripped Jack's arm tightly, his knuckles turning white from the effort. He didn't cry out in pain, nor did he spout any chuunibyou superhero lines.

He simply used the last of his strength to push an ammunition box weighing dozens of catties into Jack's arms.

"Kid... stop dazing. Take the box to Shuimen Bridge. Without these bolts... the train can't cross, and the brothers at the front... will all starve to death."

Old Li's hand fell limp, but his eyes remained fixed on the wind and snow ahead.

Clutching the cold, heavy iron box, Jack slumped in the snow. He looked at the severed limbs scattered everywhere, and at his comrades who had been charred to cinders in the fire but still maintained their charging posture.

In the live stream, the five million viewers were dead silent.

The bullet chat messages that had been frantically spamming "eat keyboard" and "mindless hack-and-slash" had completely vanished.

Jack hid in the shell crater, trembling all over.

This wasn't a mindless power-fantasy game.

This was hell.