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

"Starting from the beginning, the mountains are as vast as the sea, and the setting sun is as blood-red as blood."

The moment the old squad leader uttered those words, the game screen began to slowly and dramatically pull back.

The camera zoomed out to mid-air, up to the clouds.

All the audience members, including the three members of the Madman Brothers, witnessed a scene that was etched into their souls.

Behind them lay the Songpan grassland, which had swallowed countless lives.

It was like a huge, festering scar, with black silt, foul-smelling puddles, and gray mist swirling and entwining on that desolate land.

That place holds the remains of Xiao Wu and Xiao Chen, and hundreds of other heroic souls who never made it out.

That's hell.

Before their eyes, as the thick clouds completely dissipated, the rolling mountains resembled giant green waves, layer upon layer, endlessly surging towards the horizon.

The lush green trees sway in the wind, the most original color of life.

A bright red sun hung precariously atop the mountains, seemingly about to set.

The rays of the setting sun spread across the undulating mountains, across the winding gray column of soldiers, and across the old squad leader's empty sleeve.

The entire world was stained red with blood.

That red color is like a victory flag burning, but it is also like the blood that has been shed along the long journey from Ruijin to the Xiangjiang River, from Zunyi to the snow-capped mountains, and then to this grassland.

The mountains are as vast as the sea.

The setting sun is like blood.

In the live stream, the barrage of comments that was originally scrolling like a waterfall suddenly stopped for half a minute.

Most of them are used to plain language, the straightforwardness and satisfaction, and the use of "damn" and "awesome" to express all their emotions.

But at this moment.

When these eleven words are paired with the magnificent yet tragic scene before our eyes...

A heavy hammer called "cultural heritage" inexplicably shattered their entire language system.

"I...I'm getting goosebumps..."

"It's clearly a descriptive line, so why do I feel like crying?"

"The mountains are like the sea; how many mountains must one have crossed to perceive them as such?"

"The setting sun is like blood... How much blood must have been shed for the sunset to appear so blood-red?"

"I used to think the game was called 'Red Expedition' because red represented fire, but now I understand... it's blood, a road paved with blood!"

Old Master Qin, sitting in front of the screen, stared intently at the figure with only one arm on the screen, at the blood-red setting sun, his lips trembling as he repeatedly chewed over those few words.

"The road ahead is long and arduous, but we will start anew..."

"Great words...great words!!"

In the game, Kuang Ge wiped his face.

The thick layer of mud on his face was rubbed off, revealing the skin underneath, which was purple from the cold and peeling from the sun.

He doesn't understand poetry or songs.

He felt that as he recited those words, the feeling that had been suffocating in his chest for seven days—the frustration of watching his comrades sink into the mud and being powerless to help, the madness of wanting to eat everything in his hunger, the anger towards this damned God…

In that instant, everything was shattered by the setting sun.

"call……"

Kuang Ge let out a long breath of stale air and collapsed to the ground in a "big" shape.

Even though the pebbles on the ground hurt his back, he still felt it was the most comfortable bed in the world.

"We survived..."

Kuang Ge looked at the sky, at the blindingly red clouds, and grinned foolishly.

"Hawkeye, Softie...we...we survived."

There was no joy in completing the game, and no thrill in defeating the boss.

There was only a sense of relief at surviving a catastrophe, and an urge to hug the earth and weep bitterly.

Hawkeye, leaning on his worn-out probing stick, suddenly collapsed to his knees.

He didn't want to kneel, but he had completely lost feeling in his legs.

Ruan Ruan curled up in a ball by the fire, burying her face in her knees, her shoulders heaving violently as she let out suppressed sobs.

Only the old squad leader was still standing.

He was like a withered old tree; though the bark was cracked and the branches and leaves were withered, the trunk was still firmly rooted in the soil, supporting the sky.

Just then.

A loud, melodious bugle call, yet carrying an endless weight of sorrow, suddenly rang out across the land.

"Tick-tock—tick-tock—"

The system results finally popped up in front of the three of them.

Congratulations to players Crazy Bro, Eagle Eye, and Softie!

You successfully led your team out of the Songpan grasslands.

The writing was red, as if it had been written in blood.

But instead of a reward, the system displayed a set of cold, colorless data.

This set of data is like a sharp scalpel, instantly dissecting the wounds that had just healed in everyone's hearts.

[Red Expedition - Grassland Chapter Settlement Data]

[Number of the First Front Army of the Red Army before entering the grasslands: approximately 20000 men.]

[Number of people remaining after leaving the grasslands: Approximately 13000.]

[Main reasons for casualties: hunger, hypothermia, poisoning, getting stuck in swamps, recurrence of injuries and illnesses...]

At that moment, all the countless "666" messages that were about to flood the screen in the live stream froze in the input box.

Through the perspectives of the three protagonists, including Kuang Ge, and through the perspectives of other chapters about clearing out the wilderness, they assumed that this chapter about the wilderness was already cruel enough.

The grassland chapter turned out to be even more brutal than they had imagined.

In just seven days, without the sounds of fierce gunfire or the smoke of battle, seven thousand vibrant lives vanished silently on this eerily quiet grassland.

Kuang Ge looked at the data, his eyes reddening.

He recalled the grand procession he had seen on his first day entering the grasslands.

I remembered what the old squad leader said.

"This meadow is man-eating."

So this is what true hellish difficulty looks like.

The enemy is not the Japanese soldiers with guns, but the heavens and the earth, and destiny itself.

At the very bottom of the data panel, the system gave the final rating for this dungeon, but it was not an S-rank like when clearing the Snowfield chapter.

On the screen, there was only one red stamp, pressed down heavily.

"Snapped!"

[Clearance Rating: Survived]

Only two words.

Survival.

Below these two words is a small footnote, written in neat handwriting, yet conveying an indescribable sense of sorrow and respect.

"Here, there are no god-like skills, no flawless runs, and no so-called perfect victories."

"Facing the cruelest strangulation of nature, facing the collapse of physiological limits hundreds of times."

"To be able to carry the flame, crawl out of that deadly swamp, and still stand up and look towards tomorrow."

"This is already the highest praise for the human will."

"To be alive is a miracle."

Hawkeye stared at those lines of text, feeling as if he had a wad of cotton stuck in his throat.

In the past, when he played games, he pursued headshots, kill streaks, and being the number one player on the server.

He never imagined that one day, the mere word "survival" would carry such weight and such glory.

This is more meaningful than any championship trophy he has ever won before.

Followed by.

The checkout screen is starting to change.

A yellowed map of the Dragon Kingdom, bearing the marks of time, slowly unfolded before the three of them.

A thin red line starts from Ruijin in the southeast corner of the map, like a winding red dragon, twisting and turning.

It crossed the bloody battle of the Xiang River, broke through the natural barrier of the Wu River, fought its way to the city of Zunyi, and traversed the towering Jiajin Snow Mountain.

And now, this red line has finally made its difficult journey across the Songpan grassland, a place that symbolizes death.

[Current progress of the Long March: Leap forward...]

To his surprise, the progress bar did not increase by just a little bit as he had imagined.

Instead, it suddenly lurched forward a great distance.

The red lines on the map do not simply connect snow-capped mountains and grasslands.

During those unseen "black screen transitions," in the gaps between instances.

The ragged group did not stop.

They are still walking.

Step by step, they measured this land steeped in suffering.

They fought their way from Jiajin Mountain all the way to Songpan, enduring countless days and nights of forced marches. Even when players logged off, the Crimson Legion continued their trek through wind and rain.

The system popped up a notification:

[Note: The "Snow Mountain Chapter" and "Grassland Chapter" experienced by players are merely two of the most arduous segments of the long and arduous journey.]

During that long and arduous Long March, every inch of land was soaked with sweat and blood.

They helped you along this journey.

Hawkeye stared at the map, at the still-long red line leading to the unknown north, and his fingers unconsciously tightened around the probing stick.

"Twenty-five thousand li..." Hawkeye muttered to himself.

Previously, if he had seen this number, he would have thought it was just an exaggerated figure of speech.

But now that he has actually gone through this journey, even if it was only a few hundred miles, he understands the weight behind that number.

That's a legend built step by step with the soles of your feet.

"Buzz—"

Just then, the sharp sound of the wind disappeared.

Instead, a melodious, soothing accordion tune with a touch of nostalgia filled the air.

The melody was familiar.

It was a soft song the soldiers used to lull them to sleep, "The Three Main Rules of Discipline and the Eight Points for Attention".

However, this accordion version is less serious and more tender and plaintive.

The system interface started playing a "replay of the instance," but there was no horrific scene of people dying along the way, nor any of the disgusting mud and wounds.

Loan seems to be intentionally hiding these cruelest things, only showing players the glimmer of light hidden in the cracks of despair.

The images flow.

Beside the campfire.

The old squad leader carefully bent a red-hot needle into a fishhook using his one arm.

It was a stormy night.

Ruan Ruan had a high fever and shivered in Kuang Ge's arms.

Eagle Eye, Little Tiger, and Little Bean huddled together, using each other's body heat to form a small human stove in the cold, rainy night.

That's Little Tiger.

The skinny kid, when Kuang Ge wasn't looking, secretly hid the wild vegetables from his bowl under Kuang Ge's food bag, revealing a toothless, silly grin.

And it was only now that Brother Kuang discovered this.

That's Xiao Wu.

In the last moment before being swallowed by the mud, that hand was raised high.

The hand was stiff and purple, yet it gripped the oilcloth bag tightly, not letting go until the very last second.

……

Scene after scene, frame after frame.

Those details that we thought we had forgotten now feel like gentle knives, piercing into everyone's tear ducts.

"Waaaah, stop showing it... You old scoundrel Luo, have some decency! Why are you showing me this?!"

"I always thought this was just a masochistic game, but now I realize it's a really depressing one!"

"It's been such a difficult journey...it's been incredibly difficult."

The image freezes.

The image is frozen on the tiny flame produced by those seven matches.

The flames danced in the wind, weak yet stubbornly refusing to go out.

In the center of the screen, a line of white text slowly appears, accompanied by the fading notes of an accordion.

The Long March was not an epic tale of one man.

It is a story of ordinary people who, for the same belief, walked an extraordinary path.

Congratulations on clearing the level!

This is your Long March.

The wind suddenly stopped.

That damp, cold feeling that seeped into your bones disappeared.

The bugle call still echoed in my ears, but the heart-wrenching sense of tragedy was fading, replaced by a clear, almost unreal, birdsong.

"Chirp chirp—"

Kuang Ge shuddered violently, his body instinctively making a tactical evasive maneuver.

He wanted to touch the big black pot on his back, and to grab the grenade at his waist. Muscle memory made him tense like a fully drawn bow.

But he missed his target.

The touch from my fingertips wasn't that of a cold iron pot or a rough cloth, but rather a soft and delicate cotton fabric.

"this……"

Crazy Brother was stunned.

He lowered his head and stared blankly at himself.

That tattered, smelly, stiff uniform crawling with lice was gone.

He changed into the limited-edition trendy hoodie he wore before entering the game, and on his feet were a pair of brand-new air-cushioned sneakers with a white upper that was almost blinding.

There was no mud, no blood, and no sores.

"It...it's back to normal?"

A startled cry came from the side.

Kuang Ge turned his head and saw Ruan Ruan kneeling on the soft meadow.

She was no longer wearing the mud-covered clothes, but a delicate and elaborate Lolita dress, with lace trim swaying gently in the breeze.

Her face, which had been bruised and even started to fester from the cold, was now fair and rosy, and even had the exquisite makeup she had put on before entering the game.

Only those swollen, red eyes were filled with a sense of weariness and terror that was completely at odds with their outward appearance.

Hawkeye stood a few meters away, dressed in a black and red professional esports team uniform, his back ramrod straight, holding something in his hand, seemingly still looking for the stick he used to probe the way.

This is not that man-eating swamp.

This is a sunny hillside with lush green grass at your feet.

Not far away, a crystal-clear stream was flowing gurglingly, and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled and warm rays.

"Is it over...?" Ruan Ruan touched her face, her fingertips trembling slightly. "We... quit?"

"Not all of us have retreated." Hawkeye calmly pointed ahead, his voice hoarse but more energetic than when he was in the grass.

"Still in the instance, this should be a cutscene, or... a post-game bonus."

Madman followed Eagle Eye's finger and looked in that direction.

Beside that clear stream, on a moss-covered rock, sat a person.

The man had his back to them, bent over, and scooped up a handful of stream water to splash on his face.

He was wearing a faded but exceptionally clean gray-blue military uniform, his leggings were neatly tied, and his yellowish military cap was placed upright beside his knees.

Even though it was just a glimpse of his back, Kuang Ge's tears instantly welled up.

That figure was no longer hunched over, nor was it swaying unsteadily.

Most importantly—those are two hands.

He was washing his face with both hands, his movements swift and powerful.

Seemingly hearing the noise behind him, the person paused, shook the water droplets off his hands, and slowly turned around.

Sunlight shone on his face, illuminating the deep wrinkles that looked as if they had been carved by a knife.

He wasn't old, he looked to be only in his forties, but the depth in his eyes was more profound than the mountains and rivers.

Then you'll look older.

That's the old squad leader.

The edema caused by malnutrition was gone, as was the hazy look in her eyes.

At this moment, his eyes were clear and bright, and a faint smile played on his lips.

"What are you all standing there for?"

The old squad leader waved his hand, his voice full of energy.

"Come wash your face!"

【

Thanks to "Light Blue Reader Knight" for the author certification, and thanks to "Two Days Early in the Morning" for the great treatment. The two bosses squeezed in this 4400-word chapter, hehe~

I'm too exhausted to write today's extra chapter. I've been coding at home for three days straight without going out. If I don't give my brain a break, I'll be completely overwhelmed. I'll try my best to update the two chapters at midnight when I get back tonight!

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