This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 468.1: Are You Looking For This?

Yote had no doubt.

Even Deathclaws, those terrifying beasts that struck fear into the hearts of countless wastelanders, would avoid the sweeping fire of anti-air guns.

However, when a single anti-air gun was facing thousands of Deathclaws, the situation was entirely reversed.

“AAAAHHHH!” The soldier crouched behind the anti-aircraft cannon gripped the trigger tightly, spraying streaks of orange-yellow tracers down the slope in an attempt to stop the herd of beasts charging up the hill.

But in the face of the surging tide of Deathclaws, the gunfire spewing from the barrel looked no more than flickering candlelight in the darkness.

It looked like it would be snuffed out the next second, and that was exactly what happened.

The roar of the gun hadn’t even lasted two seconds when a drone suddenly folded its wings and dove from the sky.

The three soldiers standing next to the anti-air gun hadn’t even realized what was happening when a blast of fire erupted and swallowed them along with the weapon.

The explosion lit up their position.

Staring at the twisted scrap heap that had once been a powerful anti-air gun, the soldiers in the trench were stunned. A chill rose from the bottom of their hearts.

“What the hell is that?!” a Decurion shouted, waving his rifle wildly toward the sky.

“Suicide drone!” Yote’s bloodshot eyes bulged as he shouted, “Watch out for those buzzing things! Don’t let them near the anti-air guns!”

The remaining three anti-air guns began firing wildly into the sky, trying to shoot down the incoming drones. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

But their chaotic barrage was useless against drones being operated via immersive controls by intelligence type players.

Soon, two more anti-air guns were destroyed, leaving only one remaining.

Just as Yote was at a loss for what to do, Simond shouted to his men, “Use EMP!”

Yote was startled and quickly responded. “But your radar...”

“We don’t have time for that!” Simond shoved him aside and roared toward the mortar position, “Go!”

Following the commander’s order, a Decurion sprinted to the mortar battery. He swiftly dug out a shell marked with blue paint from a crate.

He slammed the shell's base hard on the ground, then hurled it upward before hitting the dirt.

The entire movement was executed in one seamless flow.

A blast of dust surged upward, shrapnel whizzing between sandbags.

The explosive energy was converted via microwave components into a pulse of electromagnetic energy, sending out gigawatts of power.

A sharp hum pierced the entire battlefield. On the surfaces of countless protected and unprotected conductors, tens or even hundreds of thousands of volts of transient charge bloomed.

A small spark shot out of the central camp’s power box, then Hill 330 plunged into darkness, though it was soon re-illuminated by flares.

At the same time, dozens of drones that had been approaching at low altitude dropped from the air like dumplings.

Their wires were fried and their fuses blew. Radar screens went black. Electronic components fried. Memory systems melted down... Everything happened in an instant.

The battlefield was thrown back into the era of WW1. All communications equipment was down. Orders were shouted by voice alone.

500 meters away in a ditch, Eye Owe Money almost lost his connection, eyes rolling back in his head. He yanked off his headset and started swearing. “Damn! These guys play rough!”

The next second, he looked at his VM. All that greeted him was a white screen.

Although their VM had some resistance to EMP, that was only against wide-area deployed EMP weapons and the collateral effect from nuclear explosions.

For an electromagnetic pulse that erupted at such close range, the pressure was still considerable.

At the very least, the fuses could not be saved.

A newbie of the intelligence type dumbfoundedly patted his own VM. Seeing the screen completely frozen, he muttered in complaint. “Damn... Even my interface is gone!”

“It’s probably an EMP. Just swap out the fuse, it’s no big deal!” Eye Owe Money pulled off his VM and tossed it to the ground. “Prepare to charge!”

“We intelligence types are going too?” the newbie asked in a daze.

“No shit.” Eye Owe Money rolled his eyes at him, picked up the rifle from the ground, and growled, “Just because a summoner’s mana bar is gone doesn’t mean we stop fighting. Brothers, come with me, charge!”

“AWOWOWOWOWOW!”

Seeing their captain take the lead, several intelligence type players also picked up rifles, recalling the stances they had learned from Pangolin, and launched a charge toward Hill 330 across from them.

With the communications devices disabled, the battlefield was a mess. Apart from the shouts and roars, there was nothing but endless gunfire and the rumble of explosions.

Aside from a few drone operators, the ones most affected by the EMP were undoubtedly the Wolf Cavalry. The neural connection equipment mounted on the Deathclaws’ napes had been severely disrupted.

However, only part of them were affected.

Most of the Deathclaws had already been domesticated by the players. Even without the intervention of the neural link, they were so accustomed to obedience that they could still carry out their handlers’ commands.

But among them there were still cases of losing control, whether from injury or because of their natural instincts.

Once a loss of control occurred, in order to avoid triggering a chain reaction, no matter how reluctant, the players could only grit their teeth and put down their own mounts.

“The hill’s just ahead!”

“Charge!”

Tearing off his broken headset, Sideline Slacking pulled out the assault whistle, clenched it between his teeth, and blew with all his strength.

The piercing whistle echoed across the battlefield, igniting the hot blood in everyone’s hearts.

“Kill!”

“For the Alliance!”

The steep 100 meter slope flashed by in an instant.

Urging his Deathclaw forward, Sideline Slacking leaned close against its back and charged at the front, targeting the nearest trench on the hillside. He then hurled a stick grenade toward the enemy position.

“Grenade!”

At the order, the Wolf Cavalry released their grenades. Some pulled out their Whirlwind grenade launchers.

Those were weapons made by Goblin Technology. They were drum-fed and modeled after the MGL, capable of unloading six grenades in three seconds, providing immediate mid-range suppressive fire.

Explosions lit up the trenches.

A dozen Wislanders were killed instantly. One survivor scrambled to retreat to the rear defense line, but before he could climb out of the half-finished trench, a charging Wolf Cavalry rider split his skull open with an entrenching tool.

Watching the Deathclaws storm the position from the southwest, the soldiers hiding in the trenches widened their eyes in horror.

“What are those monsters?!”

“Deathclaws! They’re Deathclaws!”

Those were the demons of the swamps and jungles.

They never imagined they would see them in the desert, let alone those apex predators being used as mounts!

But there was no time to think. Bayonets flashed and gunfire erupted right in their faces.

A 10-man squad was instantly trampled under the claws of the Wolf Cavalry.

Then a whole line followed.

Those freaks of nature ignored the hard to traverse terrain completely. They moved like armored cavalry running along walls. Every swipe ended a life.

Protected by exoskeletons, they were nearly impossible to kill.

As the Wolf Cavalry stormed the hill, the mid-range standoff instantly turned into a brutal melee.

The company on the other side, hearing the charge signal, also launched their assault on the enemy positions that had been thrown into chaos.

Both sides were so close they could see the whites of each other’s eyes. They were fighting at every trench, rock, and even sandbag.

Tracers streaked like fireflies above a campfire, and nearly every extinguished ember carried the stench of scorched blood.

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