"This city has completely decayed! Beyond saving! To think that people would believe a ghost could grant longevity! To think they’d wage war over a ghost! This is truly the most absurd thing in the world, even if it were placed centuries ago, millennia ago, even amidst those so-called mythological tales, there wouldn’t be a story as preposterous!"
The brand ambassador for Shield of George, Mr. George Augustus, stood on stage, delivering his impassioned speech to the residents of Isgray City. But today, there was no one to hear his address because, right behind him, a series of explosions and flying shrapnel was painting the entire block red.
Weapons that were previously seen only in armant exhibits and online gas were now clashing within Isgray City, turning an entire block into a veritable battlefield.
At this mont, the only solace for the city’s residents was that the design philosophy of Isgray City was modular Construction. The collapse of one block wouldn’t affect the stability of others—
It was like when a Strear once dismantled a block with bare hands, resulting only in a drastic loss of hair for architecture students and professors over the following weeks.
Compared to the deserted scene on-site, Mr. George’s vote-campaign live stream was bustling. However, the audience wasn’t treating him as a speaker or a Politician but rather as a war correspondent, constantly egging him on to zoom in and capture more of the war images behind him.
But Mr. George was not the kind of Strear who would follow the "most bullets wins" approach; he completely ignored these viewers’ demands, using the battlefield as a backdrop, advocating his political ideals against feudal superstition and opposing "Entertainnt until death."
However, while the critiques of "George’s great sins leading to widespread public resentnt" were circulating, a backstage ssage popped up on the Strear’s page—
"Dear Mr. George, this is from the Dor streaming platform, due to..."
The bland official rhetoric unfolded on the live stream page, not only seen by George but also by all the viewers.
And after all that redundant speech and pleasantries were stripped away, the ssage boiled down to one line—
[Play the ga with the most bullets, or we block your channel!]
"You see, this is the consequence of ’Entertainnt until death,’ under such threats... okay, okay, since you all want to see, I’ll show you just how cruel a real battlefield can be..."
[The host has chickened out!]
[Haha, I still prefer your unyielding nature!]
[Thought you had so backbone, turns out you’re just a stooge for the big dogs. Not watching anymore!]
[Idiot!]
[Who are you calling an idiot?]
[I curse whoever curses !]
...
Watching the chat devolve into an inexplicable argunt, George was montarily speechless, yet he had no intention of breaking up the fight; instead, he adopted a look of weary resignation, turned his back to the cara, and walked step by step towards that war-torn district.
After a full day of contention, the intensity of Combat had subsided slightly. Many chas had used up all their Ammo, and though major corporations continued to pour in troops, the overall scene was no longer akin to missiles eting faces as it had at the start.
In the end, Isgray City was just a city. No matter its reputation as "the world’s busiest urban center," the core Combat divisions owned by the major corporations wouldn’t number more than a thousand people each.
This ant that securing samples wasn’t just a matter of seizure; considerations of escort and protection after the grab were necessary. Otherwise, even if a victory was attained and the spoils acquired, one might not actually have the power to get them out of Isgray City.
So at this point, the corporations qualified to compete for this gambler all retained a portion of their elite forces, to escort the samples out after a successful capture or to engage in pursuit in the event of a failure.
This might sound contradictory, but reality is not a ga; there’s no absolute rule of victory. The competition doesn’t cease just because you’ve successfully grabbed an item. The more forces you use for the capture, the less you have for subsequent protection, and vice versa.
Therefore, how to allocate the limited troops at hand is the issue that the heads of the major conglorates must now consider.
It is because of this balancing act that the intensity of the combat remains at a level that is neither extre nor lackluster, neither bursting past limits in desperation nor engaging in passive and ineffective action.
George Augustus walked through the grueso battlefield as if on a leisurely stroll, dodging stray bullets from unseen sources and loudly addressed the live stream audience:
"Do you all see this? This is the urban block where No Man’s Land number 33 used to be. Now, this area has almost completely lost its block function. The residents’ dormitories are utterly wrecked, and several production lines also seem to have been raided. The shops on the streets bear clear signs of being smashed and looted..."
Augustus was still narrating the scene when a sudden loud explosion bood, and a massive piece of machinery plumted down in front of him, scattering the broken stones on the ground.
"Oh, what have I found? A Shield of George! Impressive, it still holds together after such a high fall! No wonder it’s a weapon I endorse!"
[Epic cha Battle Start!]
[Stop wasting ti, get in the cha already!]
[Finding a powerful cha on the battlefield, the strear knows how to create a show!]
[Speaking of which, this strear endorsing the product won’t actually be unable to operate it, right?]
...
Comnts of all sorts flooded the chat. Augustus, who clearly intended to stay out of trouble, looked at the text ssages from the dia company that had not joined the fray due to their distant headquarters, and spread his hands helplessly—
"Fine, combat by popular demand, eh? Alright! Today the strear will teach you how to escape with your life on the battlefield with a cha you pick up!"
In the midst of speaking, George had rushed to the Shield of George, skillfully climbing up to the cockpit using protrusions on the cha, and pointed at a concealed button saying:
"You see this? There’s a special button here. Just press it, then grab the handle that pops out, twist it hard to the left... there, it’s open! Don’t call it stupid. That’s how military equipnt is designed, otherwise, if you’re knocked out on the battlefield, the dics couldn’t drag you out of this tin can. As for during combat... if soone can get to this button, it just ans your skills are too weak!"
While he spoke, the ergency valve twisted by George had popped open, revealing the relatively intact cockpit.
The driver inside the cockpit seed to still be alive, but Augustus had no intention of rescuing him. He unceremoniously opened the pilot’s restraint, dragged the unconscious driver out, and tossed him aside before climbing into the cockpit himself. He didn’t even bother to close the cockpit as he imdiately thrust his right hand into the master-slave controller of the right arm, and pressed the trigger.
Ammunition stread from the cha’s right arm, repelling a few chas that were rushing towards him from a distance. Only then did Augustus press the close button, while speaking into the microphone now connected to the onboard computer:
"The Shield of George, or rather most chas, lock their operating systems when the cockpit is sealing. It’s not a design flaw, but to prevent the pilot from accidentally crushing themselves with a sneeze. So if there’s an enemy nearby when you board, you must shoot first before sealing the cockpit. Have all of you learned this?"
[Got it, got it, going to scavenge chas on the battlefield now!]
[Wait, is it just who’s curious about the warehouse icon on the onboard computer?]
[Yeah, why does that thing look so familiar to ?]
[Damn, strear, you’ve hit jackpot, the Ghost is now on this cha!]
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