Chapter 500: Ah shit, this is so embarrassing!

Players can lose countless times; when they die, even if they die a lot, at worst they just roll back to level one and start over.

Anyway, according to the game system's settings, a player's attributes stay the same after death, so after the respawn timer finishes, I'm still a hero!

But an NPC only needs to lose once, and it will be dismembered, entering a multiverse reincarnation system, not knowing which world it will end up as a beast of burden.

So the female college student doesn't hesitate at all, instantly swapping the pre‑prepared "explosive vest" as equipment.

Then with a "clack", she pulls open the pull‑ring that appears at her hand, which can be detonated by simply slipping a finger into it.

"Hmph, I'm definitely going to die today, but you all don't expect to live!"

"Hm?"

Yet even though Death God has streamlined and commercialized the self‑destruct skill, making it so simple that a mere finger hook activates it, one still cannot underestimate the heroes of the world!

Upon noticing the woman's waist suddenly thickened by a circle, A Xi Bao immediately sensed something was wrong and drew his sword, retreating.

However, once the decision to self‑destruct is made, the player will naturally go all out to maximize damage.

Consequently, the female student also unleashed a quintessential "Barbaric Charge", maxing out speed, turning herself into a walking bomb.

"My mission is complete!"

Boom—!

Unfortunately, in the end the Wolf Prince still had the edge; even though the explosion barely had a pre‑shake, he had already darted to the city wall, untouched.

But the story has two sides: the wolf soldiers holding the ground around him were doomed, all failing to dodge and being smashed by the blast wave into rolling gourds.

"Ouch, ouch~"

Yet since they can be the Wolf Prince's elite guard, these wolf soldiers' strength naturally shouldn't be underestimated.

After all, in ordinary armies, a thirty‑level soldier can already be a minor leader, but here, thirty levels is merely a barrier to seeing the Wolf Prince.

So this sudden bomb, though it left them in disarray and even blackened their white fur, didn't take any of their lives.

Even if skin is torn, flesh exposed, or severe fractures occur, as long as they are promptly immobilized, sip some healing potion, and rest a bit, they'll recover.

Yet this originally flawless, stylish raid, which had even reached the combat settlement stage, was abruptly marred by a human woman smearing a handful of ash on it.

Even though A Xi Bao, who boasts of being shameless and can pull off all sorts of conspiracies at will, still feels his face is a bit hanging on.

If he hadn't acted so quickly before, clearing out every living thing in the camp, he would truly wish to resurrect those dozens of people and kill them again.

But now that things have come to this, he can only furrow his brows, stand on the city wall, and urge the elite guard to re‑check the outpost for any oversights.

Gather the useful, valuable supplies, top up each person's three days of rations, abandon the camp, and push deeper into the dense forest.

Logically, his decisions are already quite decisive; the elite guard are indeed well‑trained, and they never gave the camp's Pioneers any chance to contact the outside world.

Yet even if they were to twist off their own heads, they wouldn't expect that these damned guys, after death, would be collectively teleported to a mysterious underground chamber, where squatting in a glass tank for a day restores them to full health.

They also wouldn't anticipate that even after death, they could communicate instantly in soul form, using a method the living can't comprehend.

Therefore, while the werewolves were busy hauling smoked meat out of the warehouse, the dozens of slain players were already frantically complaining to the manager.

"What, was the Sector‑3, Camp‑18 outpost taken down by a pack of werewolf NPCs?"

Since there's an obviously defensive outpost here, it shows the players had long anticipated that the greedy steppe wolves would eventually raid the frontier.

Therefore, based on the basic principle of seeking profit and avoiding harm, many weak civilian guilds stay far from the wasteland, fearing that a slip could make them sacrificial victims of another major incident.

Thus, those who can and dare to set up in such a contentious spot are mostly official forces of various nations.

On one hand, because few come here, they can more easily carve out a larger territory, accommodate more research and construction facilities, manage them centrally, and prevent rival spies from causing trouble.

On the other hand, per the Adhesive Nations Assembly's initiative, they indeed have the strength and the duty to stand here, ready to clash head‑on with the steppe peoples, safeguarding the rear so everyone can develop peacefully and let each nation's citizens play games safely,

Yet even with a strong grip, they can't keep troops stationed at the border forever, so to reduce manpower pressure they outsource some less‑important outposts, hiring ordinary players as mercenaries.

Of course, since they've outsourced them, they certainly don't expect these players to be exceptionally valiant, to fight to the death without retreat, or to repel enemies beyond the national gates.

In truth, the outsourced exchange points are essentially "life‑buying money"; as long as players can risk their lives to send back intel and explain what's happening, it's worth the price.

Unfortunately, as mentioned before, the wolf soldiers moved too fast; many players didn't even know what happened, only that a werewolf burst in, and before they could see clearly, they were slashed dead.

So not only the specifics are unclear; even the werewolves' fur color is disputed—some say black, some say white, some even claim they're not werewolves at all.

"Ah, this."

Their antics left the outsourcing firm in a bind; the executives, who had already been asleep, were roused to hold an emergency meeting.

But they previously ran internet troll armies, moderating comment sections for bad movies and fresh idols, which was fine; when it came to real military affairs, they were completely blind.

They had no choice but to compile the attack news and related intel, then kick the ball back to the official forces they cooperate with.

Coincidentally, this watchtower happened to lie within Silla's sphere of influence, so the intel ultimately ended up in the hands of young master Piao, Piao Renshuang.

"Ah shit, why is the news about 'Double Moon Struggle' always so terrible!"

As a result, before even reading three lines, he threw the freshly acquired materials onto the floor, and the stiff fake mask was practically furious with his performance,

One can't entirely blame the Silla crown prince, a globally famous manufactured pretty‑boy and a low‑class male actor with no real talent yet somehow always gets good resources, lacking quality; it's just that Silla's luck has been poor lately.

By the heavens' conscience, we mobilize the nation's strength, treating citizens as employees, even linking player recruitment to conscription, pouring heavy money worldwide to launch a financial offensive on untapped talent.

Logically, even if we can't beat Huaxia and White Eagle, the old duo, can't outdo the now‑ended special military operation of Russia, or can't defeat the re‑united Europa Alliance, I could at least be a little tyrant within YouTube's five permanent members, right!

Mo Di: "Man!"

As a result, the old immortal kept elbow‑striking him, first indoctrinating an evil god, then building a divine court; the day before yesterday even brainwashed a level‑70 lizard demon beast into conversion, recognizing him as master!

Bro, you poured all your effort into getting something, while they just talked their way to it; can that not make Piao Renshuang furious?

Moreover, as the player count rises, the link between Earth and Yangyue World deepens, and developments in the game will inevitably feed back into reality.

Thus, today's Tianzhu has gone so far as to promote the so‑called "Three Saints Governance" ideology within the Adhesive Nations, aiming to unite Huaxia and White Eagle to form a new group that surpasses the five permanent members.

Of course, among these Three Saints, Brahma has the fewest temples, Shiva the most followers… hmm, everything is left unsaid.

So whether looking up or down, it's a loss; now that we finally get home and find a bubbling beef hotpot on the stove, we can't blame Piao Renshuang for being angry.

But anger is useless; now that things are this far, figuring out how to solve the problem is key.

Moreover, with their multiple layers of reporting and back‑and‑forth, several (four or five) border outposts were taken down in succession.

"【Boss, if we lose a level, is there workers' compensation?】"

No, get lost!

And if you open the map, you'll see the enemy is extremely cunning.

The captured outposts are scattered here and there; the nearby ones are untouched, while the distant ones are all wiped out—there's completely no pattern.

Aside from seeing they're gradually moving into the Pioneer Force's territory, we can't tell their exact marching direction, so we can't precisely encircle and intercept them.

Ah, this.

Piao Renshuang initially thought it was no big deal—just cast a wide net, right? He sent his generals with several thousand men to search the mountains around the captured outposts, hoping to flush out this group that must be werewolves.

In fact, they can capture a sentry post in just three minutes with such professional tactics that this group, which isn't even worthy of being called bodyguards—a third-rate army—simply can't match up; their strength is completely unequal.

They were simply being led around by the nose, running in circles in the forest in a panic, not even managing to snag a single wolf hair, and were even flanked and driven out of the encirclement, after which they happily seized three outposts.

A xiba! What are you doing? You bunch of worms still haven't caught them?

After hanging up on Piao Renshuang's pushy phone call flaunting his language skills, Zheng General, under immense pressure, was completely exasperated.

Damn it, I can't just slink back like this and tell Young Master Piao that I was made a fool of by them like a monkey!

Fortunately, Young Master Piao, in his anger, simply wiped his hat.

With bad luck… wouldn't that mean heading to prison to see the old boss?

So to protect his lucrative post as Southern Army Corps Commander, Zheng General let loose, ordering his troops to shoot at the slightest sign of movement.

Never mind who it is—I'll fire two rounds first and worry about who it is later.

The results were significant; soon victory reports came from the three armies, enemy heads kept rolling in, and everyone was grinning with delight.

The only regret is…

Isn't it, buddy?

Yes, buddy!

It would be great if, when they cautiously approached, they could notice that the explosives on the ground weren't theirs.

So the final result was that the Silla army was in chaos, busy half the night, while our side suffered ten dead, over thirty seriously wounded, and fifteen missing.

Meanwhile, the Wolf Prince's people were completely unharmed!

Xiba! Xiba! Xiba…

Infuriated, Piao Renshuang gathered all officers of rank lieutenant and above from the Southern Army Corps for a drill, berating them while slapping each one in the face.

After slapping around once and still not satisfied, he recalled that the Jesus he worshipped for some reason was born in Silla, so he had them stand again and slapped the other side symmetrically.

A xiba, you bunch of idiots, how did you mess up? You can't even handle this little thing!

If this gets out, how will the world view us! Where am I supposed to save face!

If it were the real-world Piao Renshuang, with his scrawny arms and legs, he wouldn't have the strength to slap anyone; the officers would just think about the benefits they've received and endure the beating.

But here in the game, he's bought plenty of experience, so he's at least level fifty-plus with high base vitality, so his slaps leave the officers' faces burning with pain, almost twisting their necks.

Good heavens, we're soldiers after all—how can we endure the humiliation of a face full of tech, with shoulders packed with silicone, like a double-door refrigerator?

Thus Zheng General immediately stepped forward, without hesitation, and with a slap… gave Young Master Piao a grand salute.

Please, Mr. Piao, don't insult us anymore—we're all working really hard, you know!

But Piao Renshuang is already the Crown Prince in Silla who can say 'I don't eat beef'—how could he possibly be subjected to this kind of kidnapping?

Shut up, you disobedient dog!

Just as he was about to whip out the lash and beat him severely, he heard footsteps behind him.

Regardless of who was coming, the hot-headed Young Master Piao didn't even look and just whipped the lash toward them.

But when it landed, there was no cracking sound or cry of pain—instead, it was firmly grabbed by someone.

A xiba!

He shouted a curse, turned his head to see who dared such a thing, and found it was a familiar face.

He could only slightly rein in his emotions and, in the motion, retract the whip.

"President Li? How did you end up here?"

The visitor was none other than Silla's current president, and although he stopped Piao Renshuang's atrocity, a gentle smile immediately appeared on his face.

"Young Master Piao, you have so many things to worry about every day; as your friend, how can I let you get angry over these trivial matters, you know?"

With this excuse, Piao Renshuang, whose palms were already sore, hurriedly stepped down.

"Hah, just a bunch of clueless folks; they have no concept of our Piao… Silla's eternal hegemony."

"Yes, yes, yes…"

President Li repeatedly agreed, meanwhile lowering himself to try to help Zheng General, who was kneeling on the ground, to his feet.

"Thanks…"

Zheng General instinctively tried to straighten up to thank him, but felt the president's upward force suddenly press down again.

Only after Piao Renshuang gave a cold snort and said, "Get up," did he finally exert himself to lift him up.

Anyone who could get here is a sharp operator; Zheng General suddenly realized, and without even adjusting his askew cap, he immediately bowed.

Mr. Piao, please forgive my rashness, thank you!