61: Chapter 62 Return, and Another Battlefield

The smoke of battle from Iron Field seemed not yet to have dissipated from the nostrils of the five hundred million global players.

The ceremony for the return of heroic souls across seventy years further pushed the emotions both inside and outside the game to their peak.

The solemn sight of the Y-20 slicing through the vast sky formed the most tragic yet tender intertext with the desire for a bowl of fried noodles expressed by Er Zhu before his death in the game.

Mountains and rivers as monuments, heroes coming home.

These eight words became the heaviest footnote for 'ice and snow world'.

The cyberspace of Dongda unified as never before.

No one argued about the difficulty or realism of the game anymore; only remembrance for the martyrs and cherishing peace remained.

However, on the other side of the world, a strange silence prevailed.

After a brief hush, the mainstream Western media seemed to have received a unified directive and began reporting on the battle with a completely different tone.

"Due to rare, continuous heavy rain and immense pressure on the logistical supply lines, the United Nations Forces Headquarters has decided to make a strategic adjustment, withdrawing the defense line to an area with greater defensive advantages."

"General Van Fleet demonstrated exceptional command art, completing the orderly transfer of troops under extreme weather conditions and avoiding unnecessary losses."

The press release mentioned neither Iron Field nor the mountain peak that had been leveled by artillery fire.

It certainly didn't mention how their proud steel torrent was hard-pressed and pushed back to the 38th Parallel by light Infantrymen wearing single layers of clothing and gnawing on frozen potatoes.

The so-called 'strategic adjustment' was, in the eyes of the players on the Eastern Continent, nothing less than the most shameless whitewashing.

"Adjustment? I personally watched Jack and the others blow Patton tanks into scrap iron. This is called an adjustment?"

"I'm going to vomit. Isn't this what our ancestors called the 'method of spiritual victory'?"

"They will never admit they lost to a group of 'farmers'; it would shake their civilized self-confidence."

The division in public opinion was clearer than the 38th Parallel itself.

Su Yun sat in his studio, calmly flipping through these foreign news reports, his expression unwavering.

On hundreds of screens, the global players' sentiment values scrolled by; the speed at which those numbers climbed was enough to drive any capitalist insane.

But what he wanted had never been just sentiment value.

What he wanted was to completely sever the slavish backbone implanted forcefully into the national spirit, the one named 'Worship the Stronger'.

Seeing the reports that twisted black into white, Su Yun closed the webpage.

He did not choose to engage in a war of words with the media; that was too low-level.

He chose to respond in his own way.

A brand new CG, without any preview, was forcibly pushed to the interface of every user who logged into the Starfire Platform globally.

The name of the CG was—'The Silence of Panmunjom'.

The scene was no longer a battlefield filled with continuous cannon fire, but a simple military tent.

Gloomy daylight seeped through the gaps in the tent, illuminating the dust floating in the air.

A long table sat with two groups of people on opposite sides.

On one side were the US delegation representatives, wearing neat military uniforms with highly polished insignia.

Behind them, the fabric of the Stars and Stripes was heavy and brightly colored.

On the other side were the Volunteer Army representatives, wearing slightly worn Zhongshan suits, their faces resolute.

Behind them, although the Five-Starred Red Flag was somewhat wrinkled, it shone dazzlingly red in the dim light.

The camera zoomed in for a close-up.

The American representatives' chairs had been artificially raised by a few centimeters.

This allowed them to look at their negotiating opponents from a condescending posture.

This detail, filled with arrogance and insult, reignited the anger of all players on the Eastern Continent.

The CG had no dialogue, only the sound of the wind and the faint sound of artillery in the distance.

Finally, the image froze on the cold, staring eyes of the two sides' representatives.

The screen slowly turned black, and a line of text appeared:

"What you cannot gain on the battlefield, do not expect to gain at the negotiating table."

This CG acted like a heavy bomb, accurately destroying the false narrative of 'strategic adjustment' constructed by Western media.

Just as the entire network was hotly debating the deep meaning of this CG, a special system mission popped up on every player's panel.

[Special Mission Activated: Tongue-Lashing Battle]

[Mission Description: Negotiation is another kind of bloodless war.

Based on system evaluation, one player with the highest 'Empathy Value' will be selected from the entire server to serve as an assistant to our negotiation delegation, obtaining the special identity 'Historical Witness', and personally experiencing the Panmunjom negotiations.]

[Selection Criteria: The player who has cried the most times for NPCs and displayed the most intense emotional fluctuations during the game process.]

The next second, Dai Dai's live stream screen was enveloped in a golden light.

All the viewers saw the system announcement appear directly in the center of her screen.

[Congratulations Player 'Dai Dai', you have been selected as the 'Historical Witness'. Please prepare, you will represent the eyes of five hundred million players to witness that history.]

Dai Dai herself was stunned.

She looked at the announcement, rubbed her eyes, and hadn't fully reacted when the bullet comments exploded.

"Holy crap! The chosen one! A chance to cry out loud?"

"Sending Dai Dai to negotiate? Won't she cry herself unconscious on the spot?"

"The one upstairs doesn't get it! This is called attacking the mind first! Let those Americans see what they actually did to our people!"

Simultaneously, Jack and Brother Bao, who had just exited the Iron Field instance, also received new mission instructions.

[Frontline Mission: Fight for Every Inch of Land]

[Mission Description: Every inch of boundary line on the negotiating table is determined by the actual control line on the front.]

[During negotiations, the US military will launch a desperate counterattack to secure bargaining chips.]

[Your mission is to defend, or even advance, our positions. The more land you occupy, the more confidence our comrades at the negotiating table will have.]

Jack looked at the mission description and clenched his fist.

He understood that the real decisive battle was only just beginning.

On the other side, Dai Dai's game character was forcibly teleported by the system to a new scene.

Her Medic uniform disappeared, replaced by a neat but slightly thin Volunteer Army civilian military uniform.

She had no weapon, only a satchel containing paper and a pen.

She stood outside a military tent, and the wind and snow carried the smell of smoke from the distant artillery fire toward her.

The tent flap was lifted, and an officer with a serious expression nodded to her: "Comrade, please come in. The negotiation is about to begin."

Dai Dai took a deep breath and stepped into the tent she had seen countless times in the CG.

The first thing she saw was the American Colonel sitting on the raised chair.

The other party was leisurely smoking a cigar, his eyes full of undisguised contempt and arrogance.

That gaze was like a needle, instantly piercing Dai Dai's heart.

She instinctively clenched her fist, her fingernails digging deeply into her palm.