Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 371: R——P——G——!!!

[U.S.M.C]

[News Broadcaster: After today’s fierce fighting, the United States Marine Corps began pushing into Alaszad, the city where the last desperate stand is taking place...]

The fighting inside the capital was extraordinarily intense; anti-aircraft guns and burning buildings lit up the entire sky above the city.

For a successful war-thed ga, how it depicts the brutality of war and the heroism of soldiers is not actually the most crucial factor.

On the contrary,

it is the anti-war sentint embedded within the war the that can provoke genuine thought in players.

Clearly,

Call of Duty made a small but successful attempt in this regard.

Bolstered by a realistic limb-severing system, most players who enabled this mode would be shocked by the horrific scenes of war.

Under the onslaught of powerful firearms, human life proved remarkably fragile.

When those bloody scenes lay before them, many players realized that war is far from the TV drama portrayal:

heroic sacrifices do not get slow-motion treatnt; bullets hitting flesh are not rely tiny stains of blood.

If there is a place on earth that truly resembles hell, it is certainly on the battlefield.

War is not beautiful at all.

And this was only a small-scale street fight.

If one day Golden Wind could extend this thinking further and take players to even larger battlefields, the effect would be explosive.

Simon thought to himself.

Indeed, right after Call of Duty: Modern Warfare was released, Matt Simon, editor-in-chief of the world’s largest gaming community, naturally jumped into the ga imdiately to experience it.

Unquestionably,

the impact of this modern warfare title on him was huge.

Here, the feeling of being imrsed in all-aspect modern warfare—sea, land, and air—was unprecedented.

Against the vast background threatening global peace and security, the tension of full-spectrum three-dinsional combat was rendered even more profoundly.

The unparalleled sense of imrsion made him empathize deeply,

and the unrelenting, urgent pace of the plot fired him up.

Within this clever dual-line narrative, Simon sensed he was drawing closer and closer to the center of the conspiracy vortex—

and in the previous operation, they had co up empty.

Alaszad did not appear at the so-called national broadcast center.

His speech had only been played from a pre-recorded disc.

At this mont, both Simon and the Sergeant Paul Jackson he was playing felt true unease.

Clearly, Alaszad had already retreated.

But if Alaszad had fled long ago, why would he use a recorded speech to lure them deeper into the heart of the war quagmire?

A feint to buy ti?

Or a hidden agenda—a trap?

Simon didn’t know, and Sergeant Paul didn’t either.

Because now, after nearly a full day and night of fierce fighting, they had pushed into this unknown land and were mired deep in the mud of war...

[Stuck in the Quagmire]

[Day 3 - 05:00:16]

[Sergeant Paul Jackson]

[1st Reconnaissance Company, United States Marine Corps]

Artillery, dust, craters...

A choking pall of smoke and dust rolled across the city, casting the sky in a bleak black-and-yellow haze.

Nearby, buildings burned with roaring flas.

Further away, anti-aircraft guns trailed shells like a chain of stars, ripping through the warfare fog on the horizon.

The city echoed with thunderous explosions and soldiers’ screams from every direction, making it impossible to tell which squad had just t tragedy and which enemy group had been wiped out.

Even though realistic mode had been turned off, the tense battlefield atmosphere made Simon’s nerves fray; he tried to take deep breaths, gulping air in and out.

“All right, Simon, calm down. This is a ga, this is a ga, this is a ga...

You’re not on a Middle Eastern battlefield. You’re still in the western United States, in a single-family ho in San Jose, San Francisco...

This is a motion-sensing pod ga. Breathe deeply, breathe deeply...

Hiss—one—exhale—one—inhale—”

Trying to steady himself, Simon felt both amused and exasperated.

After all, what do players chase during gaplay?

Realism.

Yes—especially in the motion-sensing pod category, players always pursue realism and imrsion.

They constantly feed themselves psychological cues, reminding themselves, “This is real. Treat it like a true ordeal!”

But this ti!

The situation had changed!

Gu Sheng’s knack for building atmosphere, which had already shone in Silent Hill PT, was fully unleashed in this title!

Whether it was the roar of gunfire,

the endless screams,

the oppressive, toweringly dark environnt,

the detonations trembling underfoot and the smoke filling the nostrils—

everything here

no longer required players to force themselves with ntal tricks!

If anything, the opposite!

Simon had to keep reminding himself that it was only a ga and that his real surroundings were still safe, or his tension would never ease enough to continue playing smoothly.

“Clear the bridge! Move forward! Move, move!”

“We have to hurry to landmark 3487-2!”

“Fast! Fast! Advance forward!”

...

Through his headset, the commanding officer’s bellow never stopped.

Yes, in the broad sense they were mired in a war quagmire; in the narrow sense at landmark 3487-2, their tank—hog-squad’s Hog—had broken down in the muddy ground.

They needed to rush to the landmark, establish defenses around the Hog, and repair the tank.

However!

Just as they were about to descend from a battered bridge pockmarked with shell holes and wreckage—

crack!

A faint, crisp sound rang out to the right front.

Simon watched in disbelief as the teammate marching beside him suddenly seed to be drained of strength, knelt, then—with a thud—fell to the ground and was flung a long distance.

“Ambush! Contact! Contact!”

Shouts exploded in the headset.

“Enemy at front right! Take cover!”

“Return fire! Two o’clock! Return fire!”

“Paul! Clear the right-side building with your squad! We have to keep moving!”

...

I knew it!

Simon muttered helplessly, but with no choice he brought his three brothers in his squad under covering fire and quickly moved to the back door of the building on the right, flipping on his night-vision goggles.

But!

This was, after all, a Golden Wind ga.

Under Gu Sheng’s personal direction, “I knew it” didn’t always do the trick.

Simon had predicted that, in this stage, his squad would need to penetrate behind enemy lines and sweep the building’s hidden foes.

But he hadn’t predicted—

“Tanks? What? Fucking tanks? Four of them?!”

That’s right!

After their squad passed through the building, the top-down instructions popped up again—

According to satellite surveillance, four tanks belonging to Alaszad forces were about to cross the bridge west of their position and strike the friendly troops holding the objective.

Their rescue squad’s mission was to destroy all four tanks as they crossed the bridge!

Simon felt like he’d beco a running joke—

Huh?

?

Simon counted his squad.

One two three... eight.

Eight n versus four tanks.

Bro, have you never seen a tank, or do you have so kind of bias about carbon-based lifeforms?

“I’m not Superman. How the hell am I supposed to take out four tanks—this mission’s bugged... Hey? What’s this?”

While grumbling,

Simon stepped out of a small house and saw his teammates clustered around a wooden weapons crate in the yard.

“What is that?”

Simon walked over.

Inside the crate lay a top-heavy, rocket-launcher-looking weapon—like a plus-sized rocket launcher—lying quietly.

It ought to be enemy equipnt left behind, and now that the enemy had been cleared, the weapon was theirs.

“This is—”

Simon hoisted the oversized launcher out of the crate.

An FGM-148 anti-tank missile!

Also known as the Javelin missile, it uses an infrared focal plane array seeker and fully automatic guidance. It’s designed to precisely destroy tanks and armored vehicles, and its portability is its greatest feature—it can be carried and fired by a single soldier.

Honestly—

Simon had already been dazzled by the staggering array of gear in this ga.

From many types and variants of conventional weapons

to precision support—with calls for air reconnaissance and strikes—

to grenades, stun grenades, night-vision gear—

the dazzling variety of military equipnt kept players breathless; it satisfied a craving to experience modern warfare weapons!

And now!

You’re telling I can fire a Javelin in addition to all those guns?!

“Hou—yi—li—xie—”

Hearing the enemy’s imminent approach announced over the headset,

Simon slung the Javelin, glanced at the small electronic screen in front of him,

and saw a white fra flash, then the lock beacon auto-target the tank appearing on the bridge.

The LOCK indicator flashed in the upper right corner; a rapid beeping sounded!

With a long, steady tone—

Simon pressed the launch button.

—!

A massive recoil slamd into him and shoved him two steps back on his knees.

Looking up, he saw a missile as thick as a man’s forearm roar out of the tube!

After second-stage ignition, the Javelin corrected its attitude midair, trailing booster flas from its tail!

—!!

It shot skyward in an instant!

Then the flaming missile turned over mid-flight and dove straight down toward the tank below!

Swoosh—BOOM!!!

“Fu—uck!!!”

Simon watched the tank on the bridge explode in an instant; flas leapt into the air, and the blast force ripped the hatch off the tank!

He couldn’t help shouting in astonishnt!

This was fucking aweso!

When did we ever get to play with this stuff?!

No more words!

With his teammates’ help, Simon reloaded, raised the launcher, and aid at another incoming tank, grinning:

“Today, I’ll show you the power of modern warfare!”

“Co on, baby! Little flying stick, incoming!”

—1—

The missile streaked in!

At the sa ti, Captain Price sitting across from Ayin roared:

“Hold on tight—!”

!!