It was supposed to be a casual game, but the Long March dungeon brought tears to everyone's eye

Meanwhile, the live stream rooms of each pioneering team were in an uproar.

"How much? Two hundred and forty li a day? That's one hundred and twenty kilometers, brothers!"

"I even checked, a full marathon is only 42 kilometers! That's equivalent to running three full marathons in one day?"

"You haven't even considered the terrain yet! The whole of Malaysia is flat, with supply stations and cheerleaders! What's this? This is cliff face, muddy roads, and it rains all the time! — Oh, and we have to carry heavy loads!"

"This is insane... absolutely insane! Is that old bastard Luo trying to kill all the players in the dungeon?"

Meanwhile, in the dungeons of the various pioneering teams, some players who thought they could persevere for three days and more than 300 miles yesterday have completely lost their composure.

"bite--"

"bite--"

"bite--"

In each instance, raiding teams kept quitting the game.

"I'm not playing anymore! Is this even humanly possible? My feet are already blistered, and I still have to run 240 miles?"

"The pain is so real! The rain feels like needles pricking my skin. How can I run? I'm outta here!"

One pioneering team after another chose to give up after seeing that despairing number.

Even though they had just completed "Crossing the Dadu River", and many of them were top-tier players who were among the best in the world.

However, without having cleared the snow-capped mountains and grasslands at the true historical difficulty level, they couldn't possibly succeed in this dungeon that relies solely on willpower.

However, not all Blue Star players are cowards.

Besides the Koi Fish team, who are still gritting their teeth and going wherever the wind takes them, there is another special team that is as silent as an army.

Their IDs are all very simple: Potato Fries, Mishan, Ginger Shreds, Qinghuan, Young People.

At this moment, they are still maintaining an extremely professional formation.

Breathing rate and stride are consistent.

Even the footholds for wading in the water were chosen with great care.

"Adjust your breathing," the French Fries running in the lead whispered. "Don't breathe heavily through your mouth, breathe through your nose."

"This is a forced march, not a 100-meter sprint; you have to distribute your energy to every kilometer."

The remaining four nodded silently, without uttering a single unnecessary word.

They exuded a tenacity and awe-inspiring presence unique to veterans.

Even if it's just a game, even if it's an "impossible" mission.

But in their dictionary, once a task is accepted, there is no reason to quit halfway.

……

Meanwhile, in the dungeon where Kuang Ge and his friends were, it was still raining.

It was still the most torturous kind of drizzle.

It floated silently, as if trying to extinguish all the heat in the world.

Then it sticks to your clothes, seeps into your bones, and gives you a damp, musty smell from the inside out.

On the rugged mountain path on the west bank of the Dadu River, a long line of people is hurrying along.

There were no slogans, no conversations.

Only heavy breathing could be heard between heaven and earth, along with the "plop, plop" sounds of countless straw sandals being stomped into the muddy puddles.

At this moment, the Sharp Knife Company was already leading the vanguard regiment.

Now, each person only has two days' worth of dry rations, a gun, and bullets.

It's lighter, but not relaxing.

Kuang Ge opened his mouth wide, rainwater flowing down his cheeks and into his mouth, carrying a salty, muddy taste.

It felt like his lungs were filled with scalding hot coals, and every breath was accompanied by a burning pain.

But he dared not slow down, or even adjust the frequency of his breathing.

Because to his side and in front, the "wounded" person who should have been the focus of attention was gritting his teeth and running in the middle of the group.

The old squad leader's running posture was unusually strange at this moment.

To counteract the shift in his center of gravity caused by his right arm being firmly fixed to his chest, his upper body had to lean to the left.

With each step, his left foot had to stomp harder into the mud to "turn" his body back.

Running like that, let alone 240 li, even running 5 kilometers would break your lumbar spine.

But the old squad leader didn't utter a single word.

"Huff... huff..."

Without making a sound, Kuang Ge took a step to the left, slightly adjusting his position, and used his broad shoulders to block the crosswind blowing from the side valley for the old squad leader.

On the other side, Eagle Eye, like a ghost, kept his gaze fixed on the old sergeant's feet.

As long as there is a loose stone or a shallow mud pit on the road ahead.

Hawkeye would then quietly quicken his pace, kicking the stone away with his toe or tamping down the soil around the edge of the pit beforehand.

The movements were stealthy and fluid, without any verbal communication.

Ruan Ruan followed at the very back.

She was the weakest of the three in terms of physical fitness.

Even after being traversed by snow-capped mountains and grasslands, this high-intensity forced march still left her feeling suffocated.

But she bit her lip hard, swallowing the urge to scream.

After all, the "patient" at the very front, soaked in sweat, didn't collapse!

At the very front of the procession was a muddy slope about three miles long.

The slope was very steep, and with the rain soaking the surface, the road was extremely slippery.

The team, which had been maintaining a mechanical rhythm, descended into chaos here.

"Thump!"

A young soldier slipped and fell heavily into the mud.

"Be careful!"

His comrade instinctively reached out to pull him back, but the two collided, and their footwork instantly went awry.

It was like toppling dominoes.

The orderly steps that were originally maintained by willpower instantly became chaotic and disorderly on this slippery long slope.

The footsteps became disordered.

His breathing became erratic.

Once the rhythm is disrupted, the fatigue that was originally suppressed deep within the body will surge back like a raging flood.

The team's speed visibly slowed down.

Some people started gagging violently, while others braced themselves on their knees with their calves spinning.

The Blue Star live stream was almost unbearable to watch.

"Damn it... We've only run less than thirty miles, and things are already in chaos?"

"On this kind of muddy road, even a god couldn't escape at all!"

"That old scoundrel Luo is practically making it impossible for anyone to pass. What kind of challenge pushes people to their physical limits like this?"

"Waaaaah, we've run dozens of miles, there are still over two hundred miles to go, just thinking about it makes me despair..."

Inside the dungeon, Madman's steps were heavy.

He felt a surge of irritation as he listened to the chaotic footsteps around him.

Anyone who has run 240 miles knows this.

When a person is extremely tired, the surrounding noise will amplify the pain many times over.

Just then, a commotion suddenly broke out in the line ahead.

A crisp sound suddenly pierced through the curtain of rain.

*Smack!*