Please don't question multi-week players

Chapter 315. Springtime and Bright Scenery
The echoes of the New Year's bells had not yet faded when the shadow of war quietly loomed over the entire winter.

When the spring breeze swept across this ravaged land once more, the flames of war between the two sides had spread like wildfire, reaching as far north as Sunset Plains beyond the Green Abyss.

The tide of battle turned rapidly, and the Rose Group lost three important cities in succession.

Jiang Jianxin witnessed the entire destruction of one of the cities—a suffocating disaster.

The "Dream Core" series of weapons developed by Dream Pavilion have demonstrated unprecedented destructive power.

Their newly deployed ultra-long-range sniper missiles can accurately lock onto battlefield targets from hundreds of miles away, delivering death precisely to every corner.

Although Jiang Jianxin could fly high and avoid the direct explosion of the missile, the Rose Group soldiers who were holding their ground had nowhere to escape.

She had attempted to unleash energy at high altitudes to counteract the impact of missiles with energy fluctuations, but harsh reality proved that the shockwaves generated by high-altitude explosions falling from the sky were far more deadly.

As the first sea of ​​fire roared behind him, and the heatwave, carrying smoke and dust, rushed towards him, Jiang Jianxin felt an indescribable sense of suffocation welling up in his chest.

Her hands still possess world-destroying power. Once upon a time, she slaughtered the immortal legion of Black Pupil Pharmaceuticals and also severely injured and brought the Lord of Drifting to the brink of death.

Faced with these long-range missiles that come from the sky and are impossible to defend against, she was helpless and unable to provide a safe haven for her comrades who were fighting bloody battles.

Does the Grim Reaper have any moves that can create a large shield?

Jiang Jianxin consulted his intuition in his mind.

The intuitive response was very tactful:

[Uh...theoretically speaking, large-scale deaths are good for the Grim Reaper. It's unrealistic for the Grim Reaper to just erect a shield to stop them from making money, right?]

—It's obvious that the Grim Reaper's scythe is for killing and destruction; it won't do the work of protecting people.

[Does Junyunqi's financial resources also lack the means to intercept missiles?]

Jiang Jianxin continued to ask.

[Building a financial shield costs money. Now, even the lower classes are resorting to cannibalism; how much profit can they possibly squeeze out of them?]

Intuition replied.

Don't worry, things might still turn around; the Rose Group is waiting too.

At that time, Jiang Jianxin did not understand what the "waiting" in his intuition meant.

The situation only began to subtly change after the Rose Group lost another city and was forced to retreat to the Da Cong Mountain defense line.

The TV station suddenly published a strongly worded announcement on the Ping An Forum.

The announcement righteously accused Black Eye Pharmaceuticals of destroying multiple signal towers of the television station with missile attacks, calling it a blatant disregard for the authority of the television station and a naked provocation.

Less than an hour after the announcement was released, two explosive news items appeared at the top of the trending topics list on Ping An Forum:
#TV station declares war on Black Eyes Pharmaceuticals#
#TV station declares war on Dream Building Pavilion#
This swift declaration of war caught everyone off guard, and Jiang Jianxin was even somewhat shocked when he saw it.

She thought the TV station would reap the benefits, but she didn't expect it to hastily join the fray now.

The intuitive explanation for this is that there is also an extraterrestrial god behind the TV station. Black Pupil Pharmaceuticals is now summoning mechanics through slaughter. If the TV station does not step in to counterbalance this situation, it will be too late when the mechanics arrive.

The Rose Group clearly understood this as well, so they remained inactive, intending to force the TV station to take the initiative. After hearing this analysis, Jiang Jianxin felt like her head was about to explode. She smiled bitterly:
The world has truly become a cake, and everyone's scrambling to get a bite.

Intuition corrected him:
[There's a difference. The financial backer of the Rose Group isn't after any profit; it started the conflict simply because Black Pupil Pharmaceuticals was provoking it and affecting its profits.]

Seeing that Jiang Jianxin didn't understand, he intuitively explained it to her carefully again—the God of Wealth is actually a very special existence.

While other gods vied for the vast amount of faith they might gain upon their descent, He alone, who controlled wealth and abundance, maintained a detached attitude and showed little interest in the matter.

After all, as long as the social transaction system does not collapse, no matter how many believers the Mechanic corrupts, as long as the flow of money and the exchange of goods continue, His control over wealth will remain forever secure.

For this reason, Jun Yunqi, the spokesperson for the God of Wealth, has never invested funds in the battle. Instead, he has pressured television stations to get involved in order to protect his own interests.

This can be considered a calculated move based on the division of interests, but the TV station had no choice but to comply.

It was only after intuitive explanation that Jiang Jianxin understood the true situation of the current situation.

She wanted to express her opinion, but felt she had nothing to say.

All factions were meticulously calculating their gains, but only the people at the very bottom of society suffered.

After the onset of the war-torn era, the forum was filled with news reports about the terrible state of civilian life.

Large numbers of refugees migrate between different cities, just to have a bite to eat. They drag their families along, carrying their last remaining belongings, walking on smoke-filled highways, with cracked asphalt under their feet and drones hovering overhead.

Those once bustling city squares are now filled with makeshift tents, and the air is thick with the mixed smell of disinfectant and rotting food.

The spread of war and pollution has destroyed farmland, and black market grain prices have skyrocketed. What used to be a bag of basic grain costing ten gold coins is now being sold for a hundred gold coins, and that's barely enough to fill one's stomach.

Many families have been torn apart, and posts about "stray bullets destroying disaster camps" and "refugees killing mothers and cooking their babies" frequently appear on forums, each followed by thousands of angry but powerless comments.

Hunger not only ravages the body but also corrupts the heart. Homeless groups fight each other over scraps from garbage cans. Extremist groups, under the guise of "equal distribution of food," loot everywhere, hoarding the already scarce resources and then reselling them at inflated prices.

Jiang Jianxin once saw a mother holding her child standing outside the Rose Transportation Army supply station. Her eyes were red and swollen like two blood cherries, and her lips were dry and cracked with tiny bloody cuts.

When told that supplies were only for "families of the Rose Army," the mother suddenly knelt down, her forehead striking the cold ground, uttering a silent plea.

The supply officer merely glanced at it expressionlessly before turning and leaving, leaving behind the words, "Rules are rules."

These images, like sharp shards, pierced Jiang Jianxin's heart.

It is clear that in this chaotic world, even the Rose Group, which can barely be considered righteous, is no longer able to reproduce the blood-draining rescue feat of the past—after all, it ultimately relies on the God of Wealth.

It was during these gloomy times that spring quietly slipped away.

The wildflowers on the street corner were destroyed by the war before they could bloom. The refugees had no time to appreciate the changing seasons and could only search for roots and insects to barely fill their stomachs among the ruins.

When the first cicada chirps of summer rang out, no one noticed how this season, which should have been full of life, had arrived.

Only Jiang Jianxin stood on high ground, gazing at the smoke rising from the distant refugee camp—

The smoke was so thin it was almost blown away by the heat wave, like the last hope of this era, faint yet stubbornly refusing to be extinguished.