Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Mission Begins

Wu Hua struggled to his feet, barely having time to reload. Summoning every ounce of strength, he shouted, “Manual switch, now!”

Snow Night Fairy and the New Reporter both froze.

The New Reporter quickly grasped the situation. The M18-grade mine’s explosive power was overwhelming; the company had designed it with both automatic and manual activation modes. The automatic mode used a lengthy countdown, while the manual mode allowed users to set their own timing—but required the operator to keep their hand pressed on the switch at all times, making it virtually a suicide mission.

“I understand,” the New Reporter said, his face lit by a newfound courage. “Everyone is fighting for our company’s honor. Some friends have already given their lives. I—I don’t want to be useless.” With that, he picked up the mine, pressing his right thumb firmly onto the switch. The device began emitting shrill, urgent beeps.

Snow Night Fairy’s expression changed. She spun, stopped abruptly, lifted her hand—all in one fluid, seamless motion.

The Army Dagger flashed with a cold, dazzling light as it plunged into the New Reporter’s throat.

—444!

A green damage value appeared.

Reporters, drivers, workers—these classes weren’t battle professions and couldn’t participate in combat. Their HP was minimal, but their defense was astonishingly high. If the dagger had struck Wu Hua instead, his death would’ve been gruesome.

The New Reporter had set his game realism at 50%. He had probably never experienced such agony in his life; his face turned ashen, sweat beaded on his forehead from the pain, his jaw clenched tight. Yet he refused to let go—the mine’s alarm reached its fever pitch.

Witnessing this, Mr. Iron and Tianna stood quietly. Though it was only a game, the New Reporter’s act of valor touched the softest part of everyone’s heart. It was their way to honor a warrior.

Snow Night Fairy realized this reporter was tougher than she’d imagined. Flustered, she drew her sniper rifle, chambered a round with a sharp click. She was determined to stop him, no matter the cost.

The New Reporter, now resigned to his fate, smiled at the camera and said, “The bravest reporter in the Star Wars World brings you the most thrilling survival footage. Please remember DreamStar City Qimen Corporation. Address: 6777 Flower Street, Qimen Tower. My name is News Reporter, and I suppose names don’t always have to be—”

Even facing death, he didn’t forget to squeeze in an advertisement. Truly, he loved his profession. Without courage, where would productivity come from?

Snow Night Fairy heard the mine’s countdown begin: “Five (5), four (4), three (3), two (2)…”

“Damn!” she cursed, sprinting out the door at her fastest speed.

A thunderous explosion shook the earth and sky.

From the plaza, it looked as if the very top of the pyramid had been sliced off by an invisible blade. The spire separated from the body, shooting skyward.

At the fracture, a massive yellow energy sphere appeared, then shot two beams of intense light north and south—like Damocles’ sword—stretching to the mountain peaks on either side before snapping back.

“Boom!” The energy sphere detonated, the sound so deafening most covered their ears.

The pyramid erupted like a volcano, flames soaring to the clouds. In midair, fireworks of energy blossomed, displaying Qimen Corporation’s logo—a gigantic blue-purple crescent, brilliant and dazzling. Below, fireworks spelled out: Welcome, Outstanding Warriors—DreamStar City Qimen Corporation!

The sheer spectacle left every player gazing upward in wonder. The fireworks lasted fifteen seconds, then transformed into countless blue sparks, like a starry sky—vast, magnificent, enchanting.

Many were mesmerized, unsure if this was reality or a dream.

Beautiful!

A breathtaking blend of fantasy and reality.

Moments later, two thousand players on the plaza raised their weapons in unison, unleashing a tidal wave of cheers to celebrate the mission’s completion.

The function hall in Qimen Tower erupted in applause. Even the usually unflappable Mr. Iron was moved. Every member of Qimen’s Special Forces was full of wisdom and courage—true heroes.

The highlight, of course, was the advertisement: spectacularly effective. With nearly half a million DreamStar City players watching the live broadcast—not counting those in other cities—Mr. Iron had never seen a more cost-effective or impactful ad campaign. It was likely the most remarkable investment of his life.

Everyone atop the tower was blasted halfway down the steps by the shockwave. Wu Hua and Snow Night Fairy suffered the worst injuries; their combined HP barely reached two hundred, both lying on the steps awaiting recovery.

But while Snow Night Fairy’s face was livid, Wu Hua was grinning—one hundred thousand credit points already secured. It was hard to feel depressed.

Now all he had to do was return to the harbor for the remaining hundred thousand, plus a sixty-thousand-point bonus.

“Life’s like the waves of the sea, rising and falling, three times for good luck, seven times for big wins, love flows just like—” Wu Hua hummed a southern tune.

Snow Night Fairy heard him and was seized by the urge to obliterate Wu Hua a hundred times over.

“Keep singing, I’ll let you do it all you want at the Federal General Hall.” Snow Night Fairy’s strength specialization outmatched Wu Hua by a wide margin. When her HP recovered to six hundred, her first act was to draw her SVD sniper rifle and flick off the safety. She was determined to finish Wu Hua—she couldn’t swallow her anger otherwise.

“Killing me won’t benefit you at all,” Wu Hua said, half-dead but grinning. “My task is done, and I’m heading back to collect my reward. Hero, please grant me a free ride home. Thank you!”

Wu Hua’s expression was earnest. Snow Night Fairy’s head spun, and she shouted, furious, “Shameless!”

Wu Hua chuckled, “You really know me well. I like you.”

But his smile quickly froze. He’d overlooked something crucial—the blast center was gone, yet the system hadn’t triggered any notification.

Just then, the system prompt finally sounded:

“Base destroyed. All surviving players: Combat Merit +1, Experience +20,000.”

Everyone in the area heard it, their faces puzzled. Such a huge mission for so little reward? It didn’t make sense—they’d get more fighting a boss in an unknown zone.

But then the NPC system voice chimed in again, urgent and stern:

“Warning, warning: Bio-virus T-type has leaked. T-virus is automatically seeking a host. Remaining time: 3 minutes. Please evacuate immediately. Repeat, warning, warning: bio-virus…”

“What’s happening?” Chaos erupted.

“What bio-virus? What T-virus?”

“What’s really going on? Where do we evacuate to?”

Players were completely baffled.

Wu Hua had nearly recovered. With a nimble flip, he jumped up, carefully observing the commotion below. He knew this mission wouldn’t be completed so easily.