This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 497.2: Griffins Death

Griffin cut him off.

"Don’t think like that. I will be honored as a hero and given a state funeral in Triumphant City. I don’t want my lifetime of effort and honor to be wasted by a single mistake."

"Promise me, Karloff. Let me go alone. Don’t hate our people. Don’t resist."

His voice carried a note of pleading.

Karloff stood silent for a long while. Finally, he nodded. "I promise."

Seeing the young man nod, Griffin finally smiled with relief. His tone softened. "My adjutant will assume command. Horn Fortress will surrender to the New Alliance, and the ceasefire negotiations will conclude soon. The war is over."

"In time, you’ll all go home."

"Go now. Wait outside the door. I’d like to spend the last few minutes alone."

Karloff turned away, choking back sorrow and tears, and walked out the door.

With the room empty, Griffin felt strangely at peace. After all, their efforts weren’t meaningless.

At the very least, Triumphant City had sent a five star governor-general.

With direct backing, in ten years’ time, they would gain a stronger vassal. Then, perhaps the eastward march would begin again. And their sacrifice would become the driving force of the Wislanders.

Someone would remember them.

Someone would carry on what they left unfinished.

"The world will bow beneath our feet." Griffin poured himself a glass of red wine, opened a silver case the size of a cigarette box from the drawer, and took out a capsule of nerve toxin.

It would let him die painlessly and preserve his body.

"No one can kill me..." Griffin grinned. "... Except myself."

He tossed the capsule into his mouth, drank the wine, and leaned back in his chair.

This time, he could sleep for a long while.

...

Less than 10 minutes after his death, news spread quickly among Horn Fortress’ senior officers, causing a storm of panic.

His second-in-command, General Yalek, immediately assumed command of the fortress and garrison.

Karloff cooperated with the temporary command transition, but refused to surrender Griffin’s body, stating they would guard the bunker until General Joseph arrived to relieve them.

Yalek saw no need to provoke Griffin’s subordinates. He and many other officers, knowing the battle was lost, just wanted to go home.

Ignoring the situation with Griffin, his first act after assuming command was to restore communication with the Adjudicator and report the true state of the fortress to the new governor-general, coordinating a dignified withdrawal.

If they didn’t want the war to drag on forever, the New Alliance troops surrounding the fortress wouldn’t push too hard.

The New Alliance commanders had already broadcasted their message.

Lay down their weapons, and they could retreat through the New Alliance-designated safe corridor to the nearby riverbank, where food and water would wait for them.

Inside his tent, Willick paced anxiously.

He had only just heard of Griffin’s death, but since his location at defense sector 5 was far from the command headquarters, he couldn’t verify the truth.

Just then, footsteps sounded outside.

When his trusted aide entered, Willick asked immediately, "Is Griffin really dead?"

The aide nodded solemnly. "Yes."

A flash of joy crossed Willick’s face, but he quickly suppressed it. "How did he die?"

The aide hesitated, then shook his head. "Griffin’s personal guards captain, Karloff, claims it was a stroke. But there are many suspicious details. They refused to let army doctors perform an autopsy and insist the body be handed over directly to General Joseph. I suspect the cause of death may be something else."

He paused, then continued, "... Currently, all troops in the Sunset Province have been temporarily placed under General Yalek’s command. I hear he’s negotiating a formal and dignified withdrawal with the new governor-general."

Willick asked gravely, “Then what do you think was the real cause of Griffin’s death?”

His aide replied cautiously, “I don’t know, but Griffin had been investigating the mole behind the assassination attempt on him... maybe Karloff suspected us, which is why he refused to hand over Griffin’s body and insisted on sending it directly to General Joseph.”

“How can that be...” Willick scoffed, about to say it was impossible. After all, even if his colleagues were stupid, they wouldn’t act again so soon after a failed attempt. But then he remembered... A few days ago, after the assassination failed, he had indeed privately ordered a powerful subordinate to finish Griffin off.

Shit! Did that Pangolin guy really do it?!

A jolt ran through Willick’s chest. The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. After all, Griffin’s stroke as a cause of death sounded utterly fake. It was complete nonsense. He knew firsthand how cunning Griffin was. There was no way someone that sly could be brought down by anything short of a real expert. To be able to get through the tight protection of the bodyguards and the bunker without a sound and kill Griffin, before retreating completely unnoticed... It seemed as though Pangolin was truly extraordinary!

Who the hell is this guy?!

After pondering for a long moment, Willick muttered, “Bring Pangolin to me.”

His aide clearly had the same idea. He nodded seriously and replied, “Yes.”

He knew the general had taken a liking to the man. If Pangolin truly had such skills, then there was no doubt he was worth recruiting. Not only did he possess the strength to fight a thousand on the battlefield and single-handedly slay a super Deathclaw, but he also had the ability to kill a commanding officer under heavy guard.

Even General McClennan had spoken highly of the man. For someone like him to serve under a mere commander like Cowley... It was a waste of talent.

Just as his aide was about to leave, Willick suddenly stopped him. “Wait! Does he have any hobbies? Money, women, power... Anything?”

The aide paused, then thought for a moment before replying, “He doesn’t show interest in women in the military, nor in riches. He doesn’t seem power-hungry either. Aside from his enormous appetite... He doesn’t appear to have any hobbies.”

No hobbies... It’s going to be difficult...

But then again, it wasn’t unusual. Most Wastelanders lived primitive lives, and the concept of prosperity meant little to them. Naturally, Dinar had little appeal.

Once he gifted him a manor and took him to see the capital of Triumphant City, Willick figured the man would develop a taste for the finer things in life.

Right! I heard he was getting close to that reporter...

A foreigner wanting to marry a Wislander? There was no way unless they were filthy rich. Moveover, that lass was the daughter of an official! In the Army, even though civil officials couldn’t compare to the military officers, they were still an official!

Having made up his mind, Willick looked at his aide and said, “Alright, go to the mess hall and have the cook prepare a fine meal with good wine and bring it here. Invite Pangolin to join me.”

The aide nodded. “Yes, sir.”

...

At that same moment, elsewhere in Horn Fortress...

Battlefield Cheerleader had no idea his assassination target was already dead, let alone that his general thought he had done it!

When he realized his actions could affect the game’s future plot and possibly its entire version trajectory, he didn’t feel nearly as thrilled as the fucking fools on the forum imagined.

Crouched in the latrine, staring at the wrinkled note in his hand, he cursed under his breath. “Damn... If only I could save my game progress right now!”

The note had been sent by Willick through an intermediary and listed Griffin’s upcoming schedule. But it was practically useless! Ever since the failed assassination, Griffin had barely left the bunker.

There was only one possible opportunity, and that was the day after the next. That morning, Griffin was scheduled to inspect his defense zone. Maybe that would be his chance.

However, it was basically guaranteed that a crowd of powerful awakeners would be guarding the general. Even if he found the right moment to shoot, he would probably be dead within seconds.

He didn’t care whether Griffin lived or died. What bothered him was that he could only choose one of the two paths of the game.

If possible, he wanted to see both endings! Only then would he be able to choose whichever outcome gave the best rewards. Well, that was how he played most RPGs anyway.

Too bad he wasn’t playing a simple player game.

In Wasteland Online, player actions had permanent consequences on the main world questline! His kind of playstyle just wasn’t possible.

After copying the note’s content into a notebook from another world in his room, he flushed the original down the latrine. Pulling up his pants, he walked out and headed toward the barracks to ask Cowley’s opinion before deciding. After all, the two had shared life-and-death moments. Cowley wouldn’t betray him.

Well, mostly he was reminded by something Teng Teng had said casually about Cowley risking it all to save him.

That day, when they had come with General Willick, Cowley’s hesitant words and unsure tone had indeed felt odd. He hadn’t had a chance to ask back then, and then he forgot.

Outside the barracks, Battlefield Cheerleader approached a sentry and said, “I’m looking for Commander Cowley.”

Recognizing his face, the guard saluted. “Commander Cowley’s not here. He went that way.” He pointed west.

“Thanks.” Nodding, Battlefield Cheerleader followed the direction and found Cowley sitting by a supply tent.

Cowley was sitting on a concrete step, smoking a cigarette, staring blankly at the distant concrete fortifications and the slowly setting sun. He didn’t even notice when the burning ash reached his fingers.

Hearing footsteps, he turned and raised an eyebrow. “You’re here?”

Battlefield Cheerleader nodded and sat beside him. “General Willick sent me a letter.”

Tapping the ash from his cigarette, Cowley snapped with irritation, “He’s rushing you to make your move?”

Battlefield Cheerleader nodded. “Yeah. He gave me General Griffin’s schedule. The day after tomorrow is the only chance.”