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

"Paddle! Don't stop!"

Madman roared without turning around, too afraid to turn around.

At this moment, the remaining five assault team members on the ship have voluntarily filled in for Ba Ba Da Shun and his men.

The assault team members selected by Kuang Ge and his team may not have the perseverance to climb snow-capped mountains and cross grasslands, but they certainly have the courage to take the bullets in critical moments!

They were like silent bricks, plugging up wherever there was a leak, filling in wherever there was a bullet wound.

The ship rocked violently, each rise and fall feeling like dancing on the brink of death.

The two heavy machine guns in the bunker on the opposite bank did not stop firing even though three people had died.

On the contrary, the flames spewed even more fiercely.

"Knock knock knock!"

Several more bullets struck the side of the boat.

Wood chips flew everywhere, scratching Crazy Brother's cheek.

We were halfway to the other side, but it was a dead end.

……

On the riverbank, the blue knight roared.

"Machine gun squad, suppressive fire! And what about the sniper squad?"

"Hawkeye, can't we get through that firing port this early in the morning?!"

Hawkeye and the sleepy-eyed early morning stared at each other from afar, both feeling helpless.

Even if they were given an old-fashioned rifle, let alone a sniper rifle, it wouldn't be easy for them to shoot into the bunker.

As for Zhou Yibuqianfan and Yan Danhong's heavy machine gun bullets, they only left white marks when they hit the bunker.

Without mortars, they had no way to take down the bunkers on the other side of the river.

In the live stream, viewers watched the lone boat swaying in the hail of bullets, and the screen was almost flooded with comments.

"Damn it, without heavy weapons, we can't get through! Even if Brother Kuang and the others are all dead, we still can't get through!"

"Is this the difficulty of real history...? It's utterly hopeless."

"Waaaaah, BaBaDaShun and the others were top-ranked assault players in the national server, and they died just like that, without even leaving a complete corpse."

"Stop talking, look at the guy behind Madman with the big sword—no, look at Blue Knight's livestream!"

Beside a pile of rubble on the riverbank.

Zhao has always been like a weathered sculpture, showing no reaction to the outside world.

The moment those three players shielded the bullets with their bodies, their blood staining the river, his eyelids twitched violently.

Those gray, lifeless eyes, as if they had been dead in this world for a long time, suddenly trembled.

His eyes reflected the image of that lone boat.

The reflection shows the gray figures of those who kept their promises, risked their lives, and stood tall in front of the boatmen.

In my ear, I could hear Kuang Ge's voice.

"The advance team of the Red Army borrows a bowl of white rice porridge, three sweet potatoes, and a bucket of ginger soup from the villagers..."

Before us lies a group of a thousand players, sleeping on the streets without disturbing the peace, their weight measured in a bowl of hot porridge.

This scene was all too familiar, so familiar that it gave him a headache.

Deep in my memory, it seems as if countless images are overlapping.

The blood of the Xiang River, the wind of Zunyi, the snow of the snow-capped mountains, and those comrades who fell on the road, never to be awakened again.

"Sun...Xiong...Luo...Liu...Zhang..."

Zhao Qian's cracked lips twitched slightly as he began to murmur the names of the eighteen brave warriors who had crossed the Dadu River at this moment.

Heroes, descend to earth!

His fingers, which had been tapping unconsciously on his knee, suddenly stopped.

The next second, under the shocked gazes of the Blue Knight and the Number Guy beside him.

This "sculpture" has come to life.

There were no unnecessary movements, nor any rousing lines.

Zhao simply stood up slowly.

He got up slowly, his joints making a cracking sound.

But his back was ramrod straight.

Zhao stretched out his left hand, which was covered in calluses and frostbite, raised his thumb, closed his left eye, and made a slight gesture towards the bunker on the opposite bank of the river that was frantically spitting out flames.

Jumping eye method for distance measurement.

This was an instinct etched into his bones, an intuition nurtured by countless shells and the lives of countless comrades.

The guy standing next to him was dumbfounded. This sharpshooter Zhao, he wouldn't be thinking of firing the cannon with his bare hands, would he?

And this is how it's "calculated"?

They only have three shells, and there's no chance to try and fail!

In his haste, Number Guy was about to blurt out the data when he was interrupted by the voice of Blue Knight.

"Don't bother him."

The Blue Knight reached out and stopped the Number Guy, remaining rational even at the crucial moment.

"I believe in... Luo the old scoundrel's parallel world, or rather, I believe in Zhao."

"Data can't save Madman, but perhaps... Zhao's soul energy!"

After all, Blue Knight wouldn't believe that Zhao, whom Luo Laozei called a "divine gunner," was that simple!

Zhao completely ignored the noise around him.

In his world, at this moment there was only the sound of the wind, the sound of the water, and the arrogant roar of the heavy machine gun on the opposite bank.

Zhao bent down and picked up the cold mortar barrel from the ground.

No mounting plate?

No need.

No gun mount?

No need.

He crouched down, his right knee resting on the pebbly riverbank, his left leg lunging forward.

He lifted the cannon barrel with his left hand and pressed the breech firmly against the ground at the base of his thigh, forming an extremely stable triangular structure with his upper body.

Man and cannon as one.

His arm made subtle adjustments, each movement a millimeter-level correction.

He was feeling the wind.

He was listening to the river's breath.

He was searching for that moment when the souls of his fallen comrades could return to him.

The wind seemed to have picked up.

The roar of the Dadu River was deafening.

But in Zhao's ears, all he could hear was his own heartbeat.

"Thump."

"Thump."

"Thump."

Those eyes, which were originally cloudy and lifeless, now seemed to have a focused fire burning within them.

That was the ultimate focus, pouring one's entire soul into that one iron pipe.

He could even feel the icy temperature emanating from the cannon barrel and the subtle effects of changes in air humidity on the trajectory.

The left hand supports the object, while the right hand is suspended in mid-air.

Even with the noisy battlefield right next to him and the gasps of a thousand players behind him, he didn't even blink.

He is waiting.

Waiting for that fleeting eye of the storm.

At this moment, in the center of the river.

"Get down!!!"

With a roar, Kuang Ge slammed a player next to him onto the deck.

"Da da da da!"

A burst of bullets grazed the attacker's scalp and broke a pillar on the ship's side.

"There's no way to stop it!"

The player lay on the bow of the boat, his face pressed against the wet deck, his voice filled with despair.

"The enemy is reloading! The next wave of fire will be even denser!"

The commander's face was covered in blood, but he was still desperately holding the helm.

At this moment, the wooden boat resembled a rotten leaf in a storm.

But at this critical moment, Zhao's right hand finally moved.

He gently placed a bright yellow mortar shell into the muzzle of the cannon.

Without the slightest hesitation, and even somewhat understated.

It slipped, impacted, and the primer was ignited.

"Thump—!"

A dull yet crisp sound stood out starkly amidst the cacophony of gunfire.

A cloud of white smoke instantly spewed from the muzzle.

The immense recoil generated by the cannon slammed into the ground, causing the surrounding gravel to bounce.

Zhao's body trembled violently, but his iron-like arm remained motionless.

A shell shot into the sky, drawing an extremely high parabola in the air, flying towards the opposite bank as if it had eyes.

The shell crossed the wide river, passed through the raging crosswinds, and avoided the turbulent water vapor.

Then, it plunged straight into the firing port of the bunker on the opposite bank, which was still spitting fire wildly!

"boom!!!!!"