This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 471.1: Is There Really A Bug?!

Back in the Army’s central command headquarters in the Sunset Province.

Upon hearing the news that the 4th Battalion's command post had been wiped out by the New Alliance, Griffin, who was standing before the strategic map, felt a loud buzzing in his head. His mind blanked for a moment.

He had anticipated that the war might progress poorly under supply constraints.

He had also considered the possibility that the New Alliance had never taken his stalling tactics seriously, and that his final ultimatum might not win him 30 days.

But he had never imagined the frontline forces would collapse so quickly. A month of preparation looked like a complete joke.

Snapping back to his senses, Griffin looked at the communications officer standing at the doorway and stiffly asked, "The ones who captured the 4th Battalion’s command... Were they the New Alliance ace? Were they the Burning Corps?"

The communications officer shifted his stiff neck and nodded. "That’s what General Swofte said..."

And based on reports from the Falcon Kingdom’s pilots, they had indeed seen New Alliance transport planes heading in the direction of the command post.

To ensure the paratroopers could land safely, the New Alliance had even deployed nearly 80 planes for escort.

That centurion named Akant claimed he and his men shot down over 70 planes... But frankly, he sounded like he was bragging.

Griffin was silent for a moment, then continued, "What else did he say?"

The communications officer nervously pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Before hanging up, Swofte had furiously cursed Griffin over the radio, even calling him a ‘damn skunk’.

Clearly, those weren’t words appropriate for the current setting.

Griffin didn’t press the issue. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He had truly miscalculated big time.

He hadn’t expected the New Alliance to act so aggressively, to launch a raid on the 4th Battalion’s command post even before fully securing Hill 330.

Normally, any reasonable strategist would assume that the command post wouldn’t be left guarded only by a few officers. They would usually station a Defense Battalion to protect their main operation command.

To take down a well-prepared Defense Battalion would require at least two airborne battalions...

Yet the New Alliance had completely abandoned conventional logic and, at the risk of losing their elites, had just thrown their paratroopers into the fray.

What baffled him even more was that just as the New Alliance captured the command post, they had also somehow taken Hill 330, which was defended by the Defense Battalion!

“What’s at Hill 330?” the staff officer beside him asked with a frown, voicing the very question that had Griffin stumped.

"No idea. Communications from the front haven’t resumed. The last message from General Swofte stated that they were planning to retreat toward the 5th Battalion and requested that the 5th and 3rd Battalion take over defense zones G40 through G49. Everything went dead after that." The communications officer shook his head as he hurriedly explained, casting a wary glance at General Griffin.

The expression on Griffin’s face was as dark as storm clouds gathering. It was as though lightning and thunder would emerge the next moment.

Yet Griffin didn’t unleash his anger on a small figure like him.

After a long silence, the battle-hardened general finally spoke. “What time is it now?”

The surrounding officers looked at each other, hesitant.

No one dared speak.

When they all turned to him, the adjutant, though extremely reluctant, had no choice but to answer stiffly. "Sir! It’s currently 10:21 at night!"

Griffin gulped.. “12 hours...”

He turned to the officers beside him and mumbled, "Not even that."

No one replied as he continued, “10,000 men stretched across a 20 kilometer front line. All I asked was for them to hold out for a bit. Just delay the retreat. Use the defensive positions along the way to cause the New Alliance some trouble. I even left them 150 kilometers... What’s Swofte’s answer to that? 12 hours... It took them only 12 hours to lose everything!"

“Even if we throw 10,000 pigs into that mountain range, the New Alliance and the Enterprise wouldn’t be able to catch them in a single day! Useless scum! Worthless pigs who can do nothing but stuff their faces!"

At first, Griffin had kept his voice and tone under control, but as his emotions spiraled, he got louder and more agitated.

His right fist slammed into the map table with a heavy thud, knocking over a glass and spilling water all over the floor.

Everyone silently stood around the table. Even the staff officer whose shoes got soaked didn’t dare utter a word.

They understood why Griffin was furious.

The battle didn’t just cost them the 4th Battalion. It cost them the entire defensive line from sectors G40 to G49, and with it, a full 150 kilometers!

If that idiot Swofte had just held out for three days, hell, even two, they wouldn’t be in such a mess!

Now, the line was torn open.

Forget encircling the nail that had been driven into their flank... The damn nail was about to poke them in the eye!

“Maybe the clones just couldn’t hold a defense...” the adjutant, sweating profusely, tried to offer an excuse, but he was immediately cut off.

“If those pigs can’t hold the line, what about you lot?!” Griffin cursed and took deep breaths, forcing himself to stay calm.

The frontline command certainly bore the brunt of the blame, but the headquarters wasn’t blameless either.

Anyway... It wasn’t time to assign fault. As a battle-hardened general, he knew it clearly.

He no longer had the luxury of hesitation.

After a moment of contemplation, he issued a decisive order. “Notify all frontline units to proceed with Plan Two!”

The officers looked visibly shocked.

Plan Two meant abandoning Oasis No.3 and falling back to Oasis No.2, drawing the New Alliance into Falcon Kingdom territory for a decisive battle.

That meant they would give up the hard-won gains of Oasis No.3.

Though Griffin had warned them before that if the New Alliance advanced faster than expected, they might need to fall back further, almost no one believed it would actually come to that.

After all, they still had a 100,000-strong Clone Corps under their command.

Even in a dire situation, they could’ve pulled back to the center of Oasis No.3 and rebuilt their lines. No one thought that they would need to retreat fully into Oasis No.2.

If they actually gave up the entire oasis, it wouldn’t just be a military setback. It would be both a political and logistical nightmare.

If word got out that they had lost everything they gained in the Sunset Province, their resource allocation and support would shrink drastically.

Whether they were generals or the Marshal... No one could afford to keep funneling resources into a plan that was a black hole and threatened to swallow them whole.

"... Staying here will only get us surrounded and cut off. Falling back to Oasis No.2 gives us a shot at counterattack." After a short pause, Griffin remembered the Cutlass that was still out on a mission and turned to the Air Division’s commanding officer.

"Where’s Yker? Has our Cutlass returned?"

The officer stiffened and replied nervously, "... It flew out of communication range. Its last signal was near Oasis No.8. We received no updates since."

Though the cautious answer left room for hope, it was clear to everyone... That hope was fading fast.

The reason was simple.

Jet fuel simply wouldn’t last so long. If it hadn’t returned by now, there was only one possibility.

Griffin closed his eyes in pain.

Not only had they lost their defensive line, they had also lost their only Cutlass fighter.

Though their casualties were less than a tenth of their troops, it was clear to anyone who wasn’t blind. They’d already lost half the war.

...

Back at defense zone G53.

Lying on a field hospital bed, Battlefield Cheerleader had just finished the dinner Penny dropped off for him, when he heard the bad news from Cowley.

“...The 4th Battalion is wiped out. Defense zones G40 to G49 are all lost. The New Alliance’s tanks have already driven straight up our ass.”

“Those useless bastards... I thought their failure earlier today was already dumb enough, but I still underestimated how much worse they could get! They didn’t even last one night!” Cowley cursed angrily, his tone full of fury.

But after hearing the whole story, Battlefield Cheerleader, who had been a little tense, actually let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Not bad...

At least no one was suspecting him...

After all those free kills his buddies handed him earlier, he had been feeling uneasy. Especially after seeing the stunning progress the various New Alliance Corps had made across the neighboring defense zones, it had made him so nervous he could hardly eat.

It seemed now that worry had been unnecessary.

Thinking about it, it made sense. With the way he usually behaved, there really was nothing to raise suspicion. Sure, there were traitors who would shoot their own, but not many who could kill friendlies with a straight face and zero hesitation. Not to mention thousands of them...

Aside from eating and shitting a lot, there wasn’t much unusual about him. If he was a traitor, then everyone in the Army might as well be a traitor.

Quietly listening to Cowley rant, Battlefield Cheerleader waited until he paused to catch his breath and asked, “Any new orders from command?”

Cowley didn’t hide anything. “Plan Two.”

Battlefield Cheerleader frowned. “Plan Two?”

Cowley gave a brief explanation. “Simple. Abandon Oasis No.3. Fall back to Oasis No.2 and rebuild defenses. Given the current situation, that’s the best option. The New Alliance tanks have already torn open our defensive line. If we can’t seal it, we have to throw it away.”

Battlefield Cheerleader really wanted to say...

“You don’t need to simplify, feel free to elaborate in detail. Even if I don’t understand, I’ll remember.”

But he quickly realized that his superior was no general. He merely commanded a defense zone. There was no way he would know the full deployment of Plan Two. Asking would be pointless and might even draw suspicion.

Being able to get a sense of the bigger picture was already a win. As for the details, the Burning Corps would surely pry them out of that big fish they caught next door.

In the end, Battlefield Cheerleader continued playing his role as the taciturn, no-nonsense soldier. He spoke simply, “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

Cowley smiled warmly. “For now, nothing. Just rest up and recover. Oh, I almost forgot. I’ve got good news.”

Seeing the cheerful look on his face, Battlefield Cheerleader asked, “You got promoted again?”

Cowley chuckled. “Not me, you.”

Battlefield Cheerleader froze. “Me?”

Cowley nodded, cleared his throat, and continued, “Given your outstanding performance at the frontline, my superior intends to transfer you to the Officer Corps as an advisor. You’ll be helping train frontline officers for the various Battalions. It’s those losers in the 4th Battalion’s fault. Now HQ is seriously questioning the combat effectiveness of everyone on the frontlines and is demanding retraining of junior officers... If those good-for-nothing gluttons had half your skill, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

As he spoke, Cowley couldn’t help but curse a few phrases in hard-to-understand dialect they used in the West Coast.

Battlefield Cheerleader felt even more relieved.

The 4th Battalion had been right next door. Their nearest post was less than 10 kilometers away. If Griffin had ordered them to cover the retreat, his career as a double agent might’ve come to an end instantly.

But from the looks of it, the developers didn’t want him getting that exoframe reward just yet. His infiltration role was likely going to continue.

“If we leave, what about this position? Are we going to just abandon it?”

Cowley was silent for a moment before giving an ambiguous answer. “Some people will retreat. Some... will stay.”

Battlefield Cheerleader was momentarily puzzled, but he quickly understood what that meant.

Many officers in frontline units had been promoted up from reserve forces, including his adjutant, the signaller, and so on.

They wouldn’t receive any retreat orders. Instead, they would be left behind with their clone squads to defend the current position, acting as bait to stall the New Alliance and give the illusion that the Army hadn’t retreated yet.

That explained why he was suddenly being pulled from the frontlines to join the Officer Corps of the 5th Battalion.

Most likely, the 7th company, the one he was in, was one of those being left behind to cover the withdrawal.

What surprised him, though, was that when Cowley said this, a flicker of complexity passed through his expression.