In Warhammer, throwing a muddle is impossible.

As night fell, the entire camp finally returned to order.

Solomon found Colonel Custer, who was sweating profusely from his work.

"Colonel, we need some private space to sort out our next plans."

Castor immediately stood at attention and saluted, his eyes filled with reverence.

“The governor’s palace has been cleared out; it’s the safest place in the entire city. Please, angels, go and rest. We will take care of this.”

Solomon nodded and called to his brothers who were still busy.

As the four angels slowly walked into the palace, all the survivors stopped what they were doing and silently bowed.

In their hearts, these four giants were the gods sent by the God-Emperor to save them.

Volume 1: Chapter 16 Who tried their best, who committed a crime, and whose playing style was not a team effort?

The heavy, fine gold gate slowly closed, completely shutting out the noise and admiring gazes from the outside world.

With a soft "click" as the door locked, the four giants, who had been standing upright, instantly collapsed to the ground as if their spines had been removed.

With a soft hum from the servo motor, all four people simultaneously removed their helmets.

Vlad lay sprawled on the ground, utterly disheveled: "I'm exhausted! What kind of bullshit world is this? It's no place for a human being."

"I want to go home and play video games! I don't want to stay in this hellhole full of lunatics and monsters anymore!"

This sentence is like flipping a switch.

“Who says otherwise?” Solomon rubbed his face and found a way to sit down. “Billions of people, and… there are only so few left. To be honest, I almost couldn’t hold back just now.”

The air was somewhat stuffy.

To ease the oppressive atmosphere, Caesar suddenly spoke up to change the subject, clapping his hands: "Come on! Post-battle debriefing! Everyone, tell us who did their best, who made mistakes, and whose tactics were not team-oriented."

Vlad pointed to himself, "I fought my way in and out of Khorne's sight seven times, my record is verifiable."

Solomon then raised his hand: "On my side, I solo-killed the Dark Apostle of Word Bearer and casually took down the Great Unclean One. As a tank, my kill record is pretty good, right?"

Osiris leaned against the wall and said calmly, "I went head-to-head with the Great Impure One and crippled him, and I was still responsible for treating so many people. Isn't that the work of a healer?"

After he finished speaking, all three pairs of eyes turned to Caesar.

Caesar paused for a moment.

He reviewed the entire battle: when fighting the Nurgle walkers, he was clearing out the minions; when fighting the Khorne demon, he was clearing out the minions; even when they rushed in to rescue him at the end, he was still clearing out the minions.

"No... I..." Caesar was a little confused, "Why the hell am I only getting assists and clearing minions? I didn't get a single kill?"

"Tsk tsk tsk." Vlad shook his head. "Kaiser, this isn't working. You had the highest economic consumption in the whole game, but all your damage output went to the mobs?"

"Bullshit!" Caesar snapped. "That's called suppressive fire! Don't you understand? Without the weapons and ammunition I provided, you would have been drowned in the monster horde long ago."

“But, young master, you really don’t have any key achievements,” Osiris suddenly added. “You’ve spent so much money, and in the end, you still rely on us melee fighters. It seems that’s all the pay-to-win warriors are capable of.”

These words were like a thorn, piercing Caesar with precise force.

"You germaphobe, what do you mean?" Caesar suddenly stood up, his face turning red. "Do you know how hard I've worked? I've exchanged all my points for supplies and ammunition! I even hesitated for ages before getting myself a new weapon, and now you think I'm useless?"

Osiris stood up as well, his eyes bloodshot, but his tone remained icy: "Am I wrong? So many civilians, so many soldiers, if there had been better protective gear, if there had been faster vehicles... perhaps so many people wouldn't have died!"

"Are you fucking blaming me?!"

"I'm just stating the facts!"

Bang!

Caesar shoved Osiris's breastplate with his palm. Osiris, not to be outdone, retaliated by grabbing Caesar by the collar.

The two wrestled together without using the power armor or any special techniques.

They were like two little kids, rolling around on the ground, punching and kicking each other.

Solomon and Vlad did not intervene to break up the fight; they simply watched quietly.

They knew that what the two needed was not advice, but an outlet for their emotions.

After about five minutes of fighting, their movements slowed down, and finally they lay on the floor, panting, and stopped moving.

Only heavy breathing could be heard in the hall.

Suddenly, a suppressed sob broke the silence.

Caesar covered his face, tears streaming through his fingers.

"Waaaaah... I don't want to be some kind of hero in this godforsaken place... I want to go home... I want a Coke... I miss my mom..."