Tokyo: The Player Behind the Scenes.

Chapter 336, Section 83: The Heart That Needs to Be Stitched Together (Seeking Monthly Tickets)
As the pure white frost dragon, carrying the giant's severed arm, disappeared into the dawn sky.

When that nearly two-hundred-meter-high iceberg stood majestically, it exuded a chill that could be felt even from a thousand meters away.

An eerie silence fell over the entire city of London.

This silence is different from the previous deathly silence; it is a vacuum state of the brain brought about by sudden relaxation after extreme tension and fear, accompanied by a tinnitus-like buzzing.

A few seconds later, the silence was gradually broken.

Inside Westminster Cathedral, the suppressed cries, the relieved gasps, and the excited shouts of those who had survived a catastrophe burst forth all at once.

People embraced and wept, regardless of whether they knew each other or not, holding each other tightly as if they could draw a bit of the warmth of being truly alive from each other's trembling bodies.

The candlelight flickered and blurred through my tear-filled eyes, and the holy image seemed to wear a compassionate smile.

"We survived! We survived!"

"God did not abandon us! Angels! No, it was a dragon! God sent down a dragon to save us!"

“Thank God!”

Regardless of the fact that dragons have always been associated with the Trinity—Satan, the ancient serpent, and the dragons—the Bible is now being rewritten.

Perhaps we should canonize this white dragon and erect a statue of him.

However, considering the recent statue riots in London, it is likely that sculptors around the world will have a hard time making a living for a long time to come.

Similar scenes unfolded in every shelter, church, and building in London where survivors remained.

Those British viewers who had watched the live broadcast of this mythical war with trepidation through the remaining network signal were now slumped on sofas or mats, their clothes soaked with sweat.

Parents embraced their children tightly, couples held hands, and friends patted each other on the back—a collective emotional release that spanned the entire nation surged forth at the moment dawn broke.

The atmosphere was even more complex in the central headquarters of the provisional government, deep within the Cotswold bunker.

When the final images of the dragon disappearing and the iceberg stabilizing were displayed on the screen, the command center was first deathly silent, then deafening cheers, whistles, and even the sound of someone throwing documents into the air suddenly erupted.

These high-ranking officials and their advisors, who have been under immense pressure day and night, are now unleashing their inner elation and stress without any regard for appearances.

In contrast, the Prime Minister's behavior was much more low-key.

He simply let out a long, exaggerated sigh, as if exhaling all the stale air from his lungs at once, and then, as if completely exhausted, he leaned heavily against the back of the chair, closed his eyes, and vigorously rubbed his throbbing temples with his fingers.

But if you look closely, you can see that the corners of his mouth are slightly upturned, and there is a fleeting moisture in the corners of his eyes.

He knew better than anyone that the trauma London had suffered was devastating, even more so than the months-long bombing raids by the German Luftwaffe during World War II.

The core area of ​​the entire city was almost completely razed to the ground, with only one-tenth of the landmark buildings remaining. The economic losses were incalculable, and the casualties were shocking.

But—as always, what follows is the most crucial part.

They avoided the worst, absolutely unacceptable outcome: using strategic nuclear weapons to nuke London off the map.

Buildings can be rebuilt, infrastructure can be repaired, and even the economy can gradually recover from the ruins.

But once people's hearts are scattered, they can never be brought back together.

If the authorities ultimately order the destruction of their own capital, no matter how justified the reasons, it will leave an unhealed scar on the soul of the British nation.

At that time, the disintegration of the United Kingdom will no longer be a distant threat; he will certainly see it in his lifetime.

That joke about Great Britain being unable to unite into a kingdom without Northern Ireland is about to come true.

Even now, in Edinburgh, the capital of Scotland, and Dublin, Northern Ireland, politicians and supporters who usually clamor for independence have fallen silent after witnessing the devastation in London and its eventual miraculous turnaround on their screens.

Many people subconsciously calmed their rapid breathing due to excitement, and a complex emotion welled up in their hearts.

This sentiment temporarily overshadowed political differences.

After all, who can guarantee that such a disaster won't one day befall their land, based solely on their words?
The British military was in disarray, and it would be even more disastrous if they were to deal with it themselves.

Inside the church, after confirming that the crisis had passed, William V's first action was not to rest, but to force his exhausted body to reconnect to the national broadcast signal.

He didn't change out of his already rumpled suit, and the haggardness on his face miraculously disappeared; he knew he had won his gamble.

Even though the cost was heavy, surviving was the greatest victory.

As a city blessed by God, it's easy to imagine that hot money from all over the world would flock to London.

The speed of reconstruction will remind everyone that the British Empire, once known as the "King of Infrastructure," was also once a dominant force in infrastructure development.

I know what you're trying to say, but don't mention the HS2 high-speed rail!
He stood in front of the camera, with the ruined palace windows behind him and the faint outline of icebergs visible in the distance.

“To all British citizens, and peoples of all nations with good intentions,” he said in a hoarse voice, with a hint of lightness, “dawn has come, and we have weathered this long night together.”

"London is wounded, badly wounded. But London has not fallen, and the British spirit has not collapsed! Undoubtedly, our courage today proves the piety of the British people and that God still cares for His lambs. Here, I extend my deepest respect and gratitude to all the brave warriors who stood firm in this time of crisis, to all those who reached out a helping hand, and to every Briton who did not give up hope."

His speech lacked flowery language and was more of a symbolic reassurance and rallying effort.

More detailed work will be arranged by the Prime Minister. His biggest task is to reassure people and, incidentally, get those around him to see if this snow has the same magical healing effect as the previous rain from God.

If so, he would keep it short and then find an empty, deserted spot to run naked.

Before the altar in Westminster Cathedral, the Pope, holding sacred relics, led all the surviving clergy and believers in a solemn and brief Mass of thanksgiving.

There will be a grander Thanksgiving celebration later, but that's not the priority right now.

As the blessed snow, studded with golden light, slowly fell outside the window, the Pope solemnly instructed the monks to carefully collect the holy snow falling from the sky using clean silver utensils.

Then, during the collection process, it was discovered that the snow did not melt when placed in the container, but only when it came into contact with a human body, and it seemed to have some healing abilities. The Pope was overjoyed.

Why did he travel all the way from the Vatican to risk his life here?
Do you really think they were just invited to pray for the British?
There's some truth to that, after all, there are quite a few Catholics in Britain, even more than Anglicans.

But isn't it all about these kinds of miracles? Especially divine grace that can be personally experienced?!
"This snow is a manifestation of divine grace, containing sacred power. It should be carefully preserved for future use in exorcising demons and healing diseases." He decisively consecrated the snow and then had everyone collect the sacred snow.

It is conceivable that in the future, the "London Miracle Snow" will be just as miraculous as the "London Miracle Rain," with its effects being described as almost supernatural.

Of course, only the Miracle Snow has an effect; the rain that falls to the ground has no effect.

And there wasn't much snow. Only the first part, shimmering with golden light and not melting, contained the power of wondrous grace. The rest was just plain snow.

However, the snow was somewhat controlled by Shin Higashiyama, who would limit the snowfall to ankle level to prevent London, which had just survived a disaster, from experiencing another snowstorm.

Is it over?

Nobita felt little joy, because he knew that more disasters like this were to come.

Geralt patted Nobita on the shoulder to comfort him: "There's always a way out." Then he handed him a half-empty bottle of mead.

The portal opened, and Geralt, seeing the high-ranking dragons, was in a good mood, humming a little tune as he walked away.

"At dawn, you fled my dreams."

Bitter as blackcurrant, sweet as clove

While ordinary citizens and officials were immersed in the complex emotions of surviving the disaster, the real participants, the players, were still hesitant to let their guard down completely.

Because the countdown is still going on.

It won't be over until 4 p.m.

Even though they thought the possibility of the giant coming back to life was low, they still couldn't completely let go of their anger.

However, many players have already given up.

All ten players have run out of crystals, meaning they can't use the teleportation ability.

If it came as a clone.
As Ludu gazed at the dawn, a genuine smile of joy spread across his face.

"I, I also deserve credit for defending London!"

After saying this, his body spontaneously combusted. The possessed paper figure could no longer hold on and exhausted its last bit of strength.

Immediately afterwards, Uesugi Hitomi's figure flickered violently a few times.

"Ahhh! Let me grab a few more handfuls of Snow Cat—" After meowing, its figure was also set ablaze.

As for Oshima, his clone couldn't hold on any longer after the battle, and because he had used up too much gratitude power, even his main body was twitching.

Finally, he simply rolled his eyes back and fainted.

Throughout the entire game, this was undoubtedly the most united collaboration among players ever.

Despite some calculations and reservations, they did achieve an unprecedented level of sharing of key intelligence and tactical cooperation when confronting the common threat of the Ripper.

From the initial scattered investigations to the mid-term gathering of clues, and finally to the joint attack and defense around Westminster, everyone basically did their best and paid a considerable price.

At this moment, a whale falls, and all things come to life.

How could a behemoth like the Ripper, forged from centuries of hatred and complex rituals, not have been frozen without leaving any scraps or edges? Especially the most crucial piece: the dagger itself, left behind by the Templar Richard.

Although, on the surface, the huge dagger, along with the giant's arm, was taken away by the ice dragon.

But players all harbored a sliver of hope that a real dagger couldn't possibly be that big.

That exaggerated shape might just be a manifestation of power. The real, physical dagger is very likely hidden somewhere near the battlefield, or perhaps it was destroyed because the giant was frozen and lost its energy source, thus reverting to its original form!
The remaining players then began searching the battlefield, hoping to find something.

From this moment forward, the previously established cooperative relationship is officially and silently declared broken.

Even the military began to deploy on a large scale, with helicopter formations searching the ruins in the still dim morning light.

They didn't enter the arena to compete with players for loot; that would be incredibly foolish.

In this respect, they are still rational. Players undoubtedly have the priority to dispose of the loot. What they get later is what is not found or cannot be taken away.

Even if all else fails, there's still this snow as a safety net.

Their reason for entering the scene now is simple: to search for Hirosue Eri.

After her giant tree body was swung away by the giant, it disappeared without a trace, along with her original form.

This is the only non-player superhuman that has appeared so far, and its value is immeasurable. Vice President Collins has even given a death order: even if it is a corpse, DNA testing should be done on all the fragmented corpses in London, and Hirosue Eri should be pieced together!

The Prime Minister basically cooperated unconditionally, so countless search teams risked their lives to go deep into the core war zone, searching for any clues related to Hirosue Eri as if combing hair.

Leon also asked Taki and Hayato for help in the search.

The two did not refuse, since they were going to search the battlefield anyway.

Of course, the giant's sealed body—that iceberg—is currently a forbidden zone that no one dares to touch easily.

The deep blue ice exuded an extreme chill. Let alone touching it, just getting within tens of meters felt like digging potatoes in the Siberian wilderness, making your blood freeze.

If someone is reckless and approaches the iceberg without any protective measures, most people will only end up as ice sculptures. Once they realize what's happening, they will be unable to leave and will only be able to watch helplessly as their left and right hands slowly move and become stuck in place.

Even those with superhuman abilities, after trying it themselves with Hayato, who is the fastest, concluded that it is currently only possible to observe closely, not to handle.

Perhaps if Uesugi himself, possessing the Heart of Ice, were to come, he could touch it briefly, but that would be all.

Anyway, it seems like London really won't need air conditioning anymore, but heating costs might be a bit expensive.

So while the official forces were busy with search and rescue and establishing cordons, the players had already used their unique skills to start their own treasure hunts on the vast ruins of the battlefield.

Ethan was the fastest to act.

He made his move almost before the battle was completely over, when the white dragon had dragged the giant to the British Museum.

Relying on his observation and memory, he risked infiltrating the core area where the giant's heart had been broken open and black bread had been delivered.

Amidst the devastation, he astutely discovered a peculiar object completely buried under the rubble, emitting faint energy fluctuations.

That's the scent of blood.

He can smell it.

So he quickly dug it out, and saw that it was about the size of a fist, with an irregular shape, like a heart.

One half is dark red, like congealed blood, filled with hatred; the other half is a relatively soft bright red, exuding a faint sadness.

And in the middle of the heart, there is a suture that goes around it.

【The Heart Stitched Together】(A ritual object from the London Bridge)

[Description: A product of the forced fusion of Jack the Ripper's heart and blood with Mary's heart; a ritual-specific item; other uses are unknown.]

[Recycling: 100 points]

This thing even has a specific explanation, so it must be quite valuable.

Of course, for other players, its greatest use is probably recycling.

You can't just replace your original heart with this one!

But what about the old one after the new one was installed?
"Good things, especially for me."

Ethan was satisfied.

The Ripper's essence should be enough for him to replenish the maximum blood energy he lost in Florida last time, and further enhance his growth.

For him, this thing served a purpose somewhere between Pokémon's Rare Candy and Evolution Stone—a treasure that could be used to level up.

Without hesitation, he stored it in his system inventory, and then, without any lingering feelings, immediately canceled the possession of the paper figure, allowing his consciousness to return to his body and severing all ties with the London battlefield.

In the past, he might have been a little greedy, but now, he won't make the silly mistake of treating other players as NPCs.

About half a minute later, a thin wisp of black mist silently drifted to the spot where Ethan had just been.

The black mist coalesced into the blurry figure of the Ringwraith.

He looked down at the ground, where traces of digging remained.

Iwasaki's gaze lingered on that area for several seconds, without any expression, nor any attempt to track or investigate further.

He seemed to have only confirmed something, and then the black mist dissipated again, drifting off towards other potentially valuable areas of the battlefield.

The dawn sunlight bathed London, illuminating the city ravaged by war.

Seeing that Chaofan didn't seem particularly concerned about the iceberg, the joint US-UK research team quickly arrived and set up a temporary research station near the iceberg to begin preliminary analysis and research.

The players didn't get much; they only had some broken mechanical parts from the Ripper.

However, after being examined by Taki, it was discovered that these ordinary materials, after being "contaminated" by the Ripper, seemed to have become extraordinary materials with certain properties, and should be able to be used to manufacture weapons.

Four o'clock in the afternoon finally arrived.

The countdown to the ultimate sacrifice has ended.

Objective: To prevent the ultimate sacrifice from being completed.

【Goal Completed】

The Anatomy of Britain game has ended; rankings are frozen, and rewards will be distributed in two days.

Well played

At this moment, the players who saw the game system information finally breathed a sigh of relief, and looked at the iceberg that still stood tall without any signs of melting, with different expressions.

This gaming disaster has passed.

But what about the next game?

Where will it happen next?
Unbeknownst to them, in the new Yellow Springs, Higashiyama Shin purchased the next points game in the game system and set its opening time.

Baltic Sea.

A huge ice floe, out of season, suddenly emerged from the seabed and drifted alone with the current, its destination unknown.

(End of this chapter)