68: Chapter 69 The Last Apple

In the tunnel, no one spoke.

All eyes were focused on the blood-smeared apple in front of Jack.

A faint, sweet fruit aroma diffused through the foul air, sharply stimulating the nerves of everyone severely dehydrated.

Jack could hear the beast-like gulping sounds coming from his own throat.

He could no longer remember how long it had been since he last saw real food, since he last tasted water.

His body, every single cell, was screaming wildly, urging him to eat this apple.

But he couldn't move.

His hand felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

If he just closed his eyes, he could see the ruined corpse at the tunnel entrance; he could see the cold number on the system panel.

This wasn't an apple.

This was life.

It was the lives of one thousand seven hundred and eighty-five people.

"Eat."

The Company Commander's voice broke the silence.

He picked up an apple, carefully wiped the dirt off with his sleeve, and handed it to a nearby radio operator.

"You eat first. Your throat is the most important; we still need you to call in artillery."

The young radio operator, whose lips were already cracked to the point of speechlessness, looked at the apple before him and frantically shook his head, pushing the apple toward a severely wounded soldier on the stretcher beside him.

"Give it to him... he lost too much blood..."

The severely wounded soldier had already fallen into a semi-coma, but he smelled the apple's fragrance and forced his eyes open with effort.

He looked at the apple, then at Jack's leg, which was still seeping blood.

He used all his strength and pushed the apple toward Jack.

"Give it... to the combatants..."

The apple was passed back and forth between several hands as dry as chicken claws.

Finally, it returned before Jack.

Jack looked at this apple and felt it was heavier than the rifle in his hand.

He tremblingly handed the apple to Dai Dai beside him.

"You... you are the Medic, you work the hardest."

Dai Dai's tears fell down like beads from a broken string.

She cried and shook her head, pushing the apple back toward the Company Commander.

"Company Commander... you eat it... we... we still need you to command us in battle."

The Company Commander's eyes also turned red.

He took a deep breath and spoke in an undeniable, commanding tone: "This is an order!"

"Everyone must eat!"

He picked up the apple, but instead of eating it himself, he took out a dagger and carefully sliced the apple into eight thin pieces.

The living people in the tunnel, counting both players and NPCs, totaled exactly eight.

"One piece for each person, no one gets more."

The Company Commander handed the first slice to Jack.

Jack took the piece, thin as a cicada's wing, still bearing glistening juice.

He hesitated for a long time before finally putting it in his mouth.

A burst of sweet juice exploded in his long-parched mouth.

In that instant, Jack felt his entire soul tremble.

He never knew that a piece of apple could taste this good.

He couldn't bear to swallow it; he just held it in his mouth, letting that tiny bit of sweetness slowly moisten his throat, which was about to smoke.

The eight people passed it piece by piece.

Everyone only gently scraped off a tiny bit of flesh from the apple slice with their teeth, and then passed the rest to the next person.

One apple rotated through the hands of eight people a full three times.

In the end, more than half of it surprisingly remained.

Jack looked at the apple that every person had carefully savored, and then remembered the scene from the American military propaganda posters outside the game: soldiers gathered around a bonfire, drinking hot coffee, eating Spam cans.

He used to think that was quality of life, that was strength.

Now, looking at these comrades who couldn't bear to finish even one apple, he suddenly understood.

What unity meant.

What the motherland meant.

Spiritual torment was more fatal than physical hunger and thirst.

In the tunnel, time passed unusually slowly.

The darkness, the stuffiness, the lingering stench, and the pervasive aura of death were like a giant, damp cloth covering everyone's mouth and nose, suffocating them.

A young player's spirit finally reached its limit.

He began to bang his head against the rock wall, emitting incoherent roars from his mouth.

"Company Commander! I don't want to die here! I don't want to suffocate to death!"

His breakdown was like a contagious virus.

Several people's breathing started to become heavy, their eyes glazed over, clearly standing on the verge of collapse.

Brother Bao wanted to go stop him, but the Company Commander held him back.

The Company Commander didn't speak; he just quietly watched the player who had gone mad.

Just as this atmosphere of despair was about to swallow everyone, a faint, yet exceptionally clear melody sounded from a corner of the tunnel.

It was the sound of a harmonica.

The sound was slightly off-key and intermittent; the player was clearly weakened to the extreme.

But that melodious tune was like a tiny candle flame lit in the darkness, instantly capturing everyone's attention.

The crazed player also stopped banging his head and looked toward the sound blankly.

The one playing the harmonica was a young soldier, only sixteen years old.

His abdomen was severely wounded, and his face was pale as paper, but he still managed to puff out his cheeks and play the familiar tune.

"My Motherland."

At first, it was his solo.

Later, someone—no one knew who—began to hum along softly with the melody in their hoarse voices.

"A great river flows wide, the wind blows the fragrance of rice paddies on both banks..."

The singing was light, very hoarse, as if squeezed out from the chest.

But soon, a second voice, then a third, joined in.

Jack also started to sing along.

As he sang, he remembered the golden rice fields he saw in Andong before entering the game, and he remembered the girl Second Girl who stuffed malt candy into his hand.

Dai Dai was also singing.

She sang through her tears; what appeared before her eyes was the scene of Old Man Li being burned alive by an incendiary bomb.

Brother Bao was also singing.

This tech enthusiast, who had always only believed in data, now realized that some things could not be calculated by data.

"This is our beautiful motherland, the place where I grew up."

"On this vast land, there is beautiful scenery everywhere."

The singing grew louder.

Everyone still alive, players and NPCs alike, joined the grand chorus.

Their voices were still hoarse, still weak, but when combined, they formed an indestructible force.

This singing pierced through the rock layers, pierced through the smoke, and echoed across this land ravaged by war.

Su Yun's backend.

He transmitted this scene through a live broadcast to every corner of the world.

No stirring music was added, nor was there any sentimental narration.

He only put a line of small text at the bottom of the screen:

"This is everything they fight for."

In the tunnel.

As Jack sang, tears streamed down his face uncontrollably.

He turned his head and, in the dim light, said a sentence to Brother Bao beside him that even he found strange.

"I used to always think that people who shouted slogans were fools."

"Now I understand."

"Motherland is not just a slogan."

"It is the rice fields behind us, it is the malt candy in Second Girl's hand, it is the apple we couldn't bear to finish, and it is the song we are singing now."

"It is our everything."