This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 501.1: The Place Where Humanity Is Desecrated

The desert lay to the west of Sunset Province.

Although it was named a desert, it wasn't as barren as most wastelanders imagined.

Collapsed concrete buildings half-buried in sand, rusted warehouses and factories... Everything spoke of a once-flourishing civilization. Even after two centuries of sandstorms, they still hadn't completely swallowed the man-made marvel that spanned over 1,000 kilometers.

Moreover, due to the convergence of underground ocean current pipelines in the area, large amounts of desalinated seawater had seeped into the bedrock through ruptured pipes, forming rich underground aquifers.

So, despite the constant earthquakes, sandstorms, radioactive dust, and thundercloud storms, the species thriving there were even more abundant than those in neighboring Sunset Province. That province only retained a few oases as remnants of its past, but the desert was the complete opposite. The leftover blessings were so abundant they were practically overflowing.

“Damn... What the hell is that?”

A snake as thick as an oil drum slowly slithered between two crumbling high-rise buildings. Its cracked skin resembled dry yellow earth, and it lay hidden in the soft quicksand like a toppled ancient tree.

Watching the several dozen-meter-long serpent squirm through the sand, the soldier wearing an exoskeleton reflexively took two steps back, his scalp tingling in fright.

His name was Su Ming, and he was the team sniper. The number 26 printed on his chest and arms identified both him and his comrades as members of the Enterprise's 26th Assault Team.

As one of the few Enterprise ground forces involved in the Sunset Province campaign, their main tasks during the war included spearheading attacks, guerrilla raids, and sabotage behind enemy lines.

Although most residents of Ideal City credited them with the victory, the battles they participated in were far from few, just not the kind that made for glamorous news headlines.

Yun Song stepped up beside Su Ming and glanced at the giant snake. A targeting box locked onto it through his tactical visor, and a progress bar traced the frame's edge.

“No database records on this creature... You spotted it first. Want to name it?” Yun Song asked.

Su Ming scratched the back of his head. “Uhhh... Wanna call it a Sandworm?”

Before Yun Song could reply, Gu Wei, who was clad in an exoframe, laughed and teased, “That’s way too basic. The other desert already has one, and it looks nothing like this guy.”

“Then... Should we call it an Earth Dragon? Giant Worm? Digger?”

“Just call it a Digger and let’s move on.” Interrupting the chatter, Yun Song raised his finger and tapped twice in midair, saving the image data into a holographic window before switching to the tactical map. “Target’s about one kilometer ahead... Everyone stay alert. We’ll be bringing our guys home soon.”

“Oh,” Su Ming replied listlessly.

They had been deployed for nearly a full year.

They had crossed thousands of kilometers of wasteland, even getting caught up in the war in the Sunset Province. Su Ming kept thinking their journey alone could be turned into a movie.

On Yun Song’s command, the 26th Assault Team resumed their advance. Android soldiers and drones took point, while the rest cautiously followed the broken concrete highway, avoiding quicksand fields and zones with abnormal life signals.

The next moment, the communications officer received an update.

Yun Song raised his fist, signaling the squad to halt at the gates of an abandoned factory.

By then, they were only 300 meters from the Mutant Human tribe. From atop the distant ruins, they could already see camouflaged barricades piled with trash and sentries keeping watch through binoculars.

“Update... We have a new mission and its good news. The Alliance has decided to send an airship to support us before the withdrawal.”

The announcement drew sighs of relief from many.

Not everyone had been deployed this time. Over 30 logistics staff and 20 soldiers remained at the base camp.

Armed with just 10 exoframes and 30 exoskeletons, and with fewer than 30 android soldiers, taking down a mutant tribe with over 10 times their numbers and no heavy support would have been near impossible.

Even if they could win, casualties would be heavy. The Mutant Humans of the Great Desert didn’t just wield iron pipe rifles anymore. They’d traded with the Army and the Falcon Kingdom, acquiring semi-automatic and even fully automatic weapons.

Not to mention the DIY weapons they built from prewar junk. Those weapons might look crude, but underestimating them would be fatal.

They had once seen a mutant wielding a heat ray gun made from the head and spine of a Vanguard-series robot, which it used in an ambush to destroy an exoframe.

Such unpredictable tactics were hard to guard against.

Hearing that Alliance reinforcements were en route, Su Ming’s eyes widened and he yelled in excitement, “Is the airship the one equipped with the 400mm main cannon?”

Yun Song nodded. “Yes... Along with ground troops and those questionable gliders. But first, we need to confirm there are no friendlies in the camp. Then we’ll decide whether to use an axe or a scalpel to finish the job.” He turned to the drone operator at the rear. “The recon job is all up to you now.”

“Copy.” A calm-faced man made a signal, knocking his fist against his shoulder. The drone pack on his back sprang open, and a quadrotor drone launched like a crossbow bolt, whirring to the skies.

The feed connected to his helmet’s tactical display.

The signal was weak but just usable. The drone carefully avoided mutant sentries, circling to the side of the building, weaving through twisted rebar and crumbled concrete until it hovered above the camp.

The entire tribe was based in an abandoned industrial complex that used to house a factory.

Makeshift huts built from trash blended into the collapsing factory shell. Iron sheet roofs and drying animal hides blocked the view of twisted alleyways. But through the cracks, one could still glimpse coal-black bodies, bloodthirsty fangs, and bulging muscles, like orcs from a fantasy movie.

What made one's skin crawl was that those feral, raw-meat-eating beasts had somehow mimicked human behavior to build civilization, with a defined social structure.

There were living quarters reeking of feces, gladiator arenas for violent entertainment, blacksmith shops filled with clanging metal, plantations growing unknown fruits, and ranches for livestock.

As the drone surveyed the massive settlement, the operator felt a chill down his spine.

Especially when he spotted fellow humans caged like animals in a trash-heap-like compound, rage instantly flooded his mind.

“Fuck!”

“What is it?” Yun Song turned to look at him the moment he started cursing.

The drone operator didn’t speak. He drew a line in the air, sharing his view with nearby teammates.

The drone zoomed in.

Rows of cages made from rebar held battered, naked bodies.

Those with swollen bellies were considered lucky. Mutant Humans typically didn’t eat pregnant women. Those who failed to bear children weren’t so fortunate. Many were missing different parts of their bodies as maggots squirmed around their wounds.

Mutant Humans had powerful regenerative abilities and didn’t need bandages or antibiotics, so they didn’t bother treating their livestock. Many of the captives sat blank-eyed on the floor, too weak to swat away flies. Some didn’t even move and it was unclear whether they were dead.

Not far away, a Mutant Human priest with bare arms was crudely and primitively delivering a baby from a woman shackled to a slab. It didn’t care if the mother survived the process.

Followers of chaos weren’t picky eaters. All they cared about was filling their stomachs and keeping themselves strong.

The slaves herded in their camp could have come from the Falcon Kingdom, the Honey Badger Kingdom, the Lion Kingdom, or perhaps even further away, delivered by slave traders. Few people cared where the missing went during wartime.

Even after seeing countless hellish sights during their march across the wasteland, Su Ming’s face turned pale. What he saw was far crueler than the marauders they had encountered.

A nearby soldier even started dry heaving. Eventually, he eked out, “These beasts!”

Gu Wei gripped his heavy machine gun tightly, ready to storm in. “They’ve always been beasts. When did you ever think they weren’t?”

Expressionless, Yun Song worked on his holographic display, marking sections of the camp and flagging areas that might contain survivors. Once done, he signaled the communications officer to set up a signal booster and align it roughly toward the Heart of Steel.

“This is the 26th Assault Team. We’ve confirmed the Blackstone Mutant Human Tribe’s location. Estimated numbers, 2,000. It matches our intelligence reports.”

“Survivors sighted in the camp. We can’t get closer, so we can’t confirm if they’re ours. I hope not.”

After a burst of static, a voice responded, “Copy that... We’ll arrive in half an hour. If possible, try to lure them into a more open area.”

Yun Song looked toward two ruined buildings up ahead, where the Digger had passed earlier. That would be a good location.

Either as a shelling target, or as a mass grave for those beasts.

“Roger. Leave it to us.”

After ending the transmission, he waved to the soldiers behind him.

“Time to get to work.”

...

Meanwhile, dozens of kilometers away on the desert’s edge, a massive airship slowly pushed through the wall of sand, advancing toward the boundless ruins.

When Chu Guang had first entered the Sunset Province, he had been awed by the endless yellow dunes and swirling clouds.

Now, his current sense of shock was no less intense, if not stronger.

“Incredible... This used to be a city?”

Standing on the bridge, Chu Guang gazed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, stunned. A hundred-meter-wide highway stretched straight ahead, merging with clusters of skyscrapers on the horizon. Even from a 1,000 meters tall vantage point, he couldn’t see where it ended.

The land was divided into grids by intersecting roads and ruined rails, half covered by dense buildings, the other half by endless sand.

It might take hundreds or even thousands of years before this land would be fully integrated into the Sunset Province...

Standing beside him, Wu Changnian narrowed his eyes. His expression held not only shock, but a hint of melancholy.