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

The players immediately erupted in anger.

"Holy crap? Bro, are you serious?"

"That's mud! I just took a look, it's all cow dung and mud, how the hell can we sleep here?"

"Yeah, isn't there a village nearby? Even just giving the NPCs some food and lodging would be helpful. It's below zero at night, people will freeze to death!"

"Even with the pain level set to the lowest setting, this game is still wet and cold; the historical difficulty is really unfriendly..."

Complaints rose and fell among the crowd.

This is just a game, after all.

No matter how much Luo An's games emphasize realism, players are still players.

They would find it exciting to charge into battle and die amidst a hail of bullets.

But to make them suffer in the cold mud without any fighting?

This crosses the line for "casual gamers".

Several rebellious players have even started heading into the village.

"You guys can sleep all you want. I'll just go find a haystack in the village, as long as I don't kill any NPCs, it'll be fine, right?"

boom--!

A gunshot rang out.

The dirt at the player's feet exploded instantly, splattering mud all over his trousers.

Early in the morning, he leaned against a crooked tree, the rifle in his hand still emitting wisps of smoke.

He didn't even fully open his eyes, looking like he hadn't woken up yet, and lazily yawned.

"Take one more step forward, and the next shot will be a headshot."

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried the indifference of a professional player.

The player turned pale with fright and froze on the spot, too scared to move.

"What? You think the money isn't enough?" Li Luoluo stepped forward.

As the team's "finance minister," she knew that for this group of hastily assembled players, talking about sentiment was too abstract, and talking about discipline was too distant.

When it comes to money, things are the most practical.

Li Luoluo directly opened the regional channel, and the golden pinned message once again dazzled everyone's eyes.

[Player "Li Luoluo": Now we've added a requirement: camp out at the village entrance without disturbing the villagers. Those who do this will each receive an extra 500. But if anyone dares to sneak into the village...]

Li Luoluo paused, her tone revealing a casual contempt.

[If anyone breaks the rules and prevents everyone from receiving the first-clear reward, who will I hold responsible for the loss of these 1,000 people?]

Upon hearing this, the players who had originally intended to cause trouble instantly felt a chill run down their spines.

This is not just a matter of money.

This could result in the entire group of a thousand people not receiving their money.

Even without this rich woman lifting a finger, his 999 brothers who want the money could easily tear him apart!

"Sleep! So what if you sleep on the mud? I've slept in the snow back in the day when I was queuing to buy a graphics card!"

"For Brother Kuang! For the first pass! For... cough cough, for five hundred yuan!"

"Don't push! Line up to sleep! Anyone who dares to enter the village, I'll fight them!"

……

Late at night.

The wind on the Dadu River feels like it's carrying knives.

At the dilapidated village entrance, along both sides of the street, nearly a thousand players were swarming in.

They lay huddled together, back to back, under the eaves and in the mud on both sides of the street.

In order not to block the way, they even consciously left a passage in the middle that was only wide enough for one person to pass through.

Although most people were still complaining quietly and trembling with fear.

But no one knocked on the tightly closed door.

No one kicked the drafty window.

Not wanting, but not dare.

Meanwhile, Zhou Yibuqianfan, a foodie with severe "road rage" and "rage disorder," was squatting in a corner, clutching the hard, dry black bread that the system had given him, which was as hard as a rock.

He was hungry.

I was so hungry it felt like a hand was clawing at my stomach.

Just then, a player nearby furtively pulled out a wild pheasant he had caught from somewhere, intending to secretly start a fire and roast it.

Monday, the man who didn't eat rice, suddenly had tears in his eyes.

That redness wasn't from hunger, it was from anger.

He suddenly sprang up, rushed over in three strides, and knocked the flint from the player's hand.

"What the hell are you doing!" The player was startled.

"Who gave you permission to catch the chicken?!" Zhou Yibugan roared in a low voice, spitting all over the man's face. "This is our fellow villager's chicken!!"

"It's just a chicken... that's data..."

Screw your data!

On Monday, without any effort, he grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him against the wall, his face contorted as if he wanted to devour him.

"Brother Kuang said! He won't take a single needle or thread from the people! Is this chicken yours? Did the system give it to you?"

"Put it back!!"

"Otherwise, even if the rich woman doesn't dock your pay, I'll break your legs!!"

The player was stunned by this crazy outburst and shakily returned the clucking chicken to him.

On Monday, I angrily sat back down in my seat, looked at the black steamed bun in my hand, took a big bite, and my teeth ached from the hard bite.

"Damn it... once I beat this game, I'm going to eat ten family buckets of KFC..."

He cursed as he swallowed the steamed bun, tears welling up in his eyes.

If it weren't for the fact that it was inconvenient to fire a gun in the village for fear of disturbing the villagers, he wouldn't have said a word!

Not far away, Yan Danhong remained silent.

This guy is a quiet type.

He took off his cotton-padded coat, leaving him in only a thin shirt, and his lips turned purple from the cold wind.

But his cotton-padded coat was completely covered over the heavy machine gun.

Those were the only two heavy firepower suppression points in the entire regiment; they couldn't get damp or jammed.

For him, the gun was more important than his life.

And that "sleepyhead" was leaning against a tree root, holding a gun, early in the morning.

His breathing was as steady as if he were on his own Simmons mattress, and he even snored softly.

But if even a single mouse runs by, his ears will twitch instantly, and the muzzle of his gun will subconsciously adjust itself slightly.

Digital Guy was the only one who wasn't asleep.

He squatted down next to the sharpshooter Zhao, and by the faint moonlight, he held a twig in his hand and frantically calculated on the ground.

"Wind speed level 4, correction value 0.3..."

"No, that's not right. If we take into account the updrafts over the river, we need to add another 0.1..."

Zhao, the sharpshooter who stood like a statue, remained motionless.

But the frequency of his tapping fingers on his knees seemed... a little faster than during the day.

……

In the live stream room.

Millions of Earth spectators who were not qualified to enter the instance or were simply there to watch the spectacle fell silent at this moment.

The screen, which was originally filled with "hahaha" and "rich woman seeking sugar daddy" comments, is gradually disappearing.

Instead, the screen was filled with "???" and exclamation marks.

"Is this... is this still the same group of players who only know how to kill and rob?"

"Why does this scene seem so familiar?"

"Even though they're doing it for money... why did my nose suddenly feel a little sore as I watched?"

"Waaah, because what they're trying so hard to imitate is nothing more than the discipline that the Red Legion takes for granted..."

【

Thank you so much to "Light Blue Reader Knight" for the author certification! I haven't updated the chapter for the other author certification yet, I owe so many author certifications and little gifts from you all. I'm updating in order...

As for the small gifts, I would actually add more chapters once I accumulated enough to be certified as a top author. However, looking at the dozen or so extra chapters I already owe... everyone is just too enthusiastic!

You guys are the real money-makers, locking Lolo in a dark room to write o(╥﹏╥)o

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