The afternoon sunlight shone upon the quiet Defense Sector 06, as usual, the weather was clear and sunny.

On patrol along the fortifications, Li Shudong adjusted the oxygen tank on his back, then glanced up at the hazy gray sky, thinking how nice it would be if it rained.

Even if the rain couldn’t wash away that suffocating musty smell, at least it would make the air look a little cleaner.

He was a soldier of the First Corps, having enlisted only at the start of the year.

Although the day of the Tide’s eruption drew nearer, he didn’t feel much fear, in fact, he even felt a bit of anticipation.

Rumor had it that once the Tide ended, the First Corps would be reorganized into the New Alliance’s First Army, following the Federation’s old structure. If he could earn some merit in the battle, perhaps he might even be promoted to squad leader or platoon leader.

Fighting brainless Slime Mold was always easier than fighting the Wislander.

At least, in theory that held true.

Just as that thought passed through his mind, a long, drawn-out “beeeep, ” suddenly came from behind his head.

He instinctively turned around, and just happened to see, from a building not far away, a wall window from which protruded a massive loudspeaker.

To be precise, not just one, but a whole row of them.

Dozens of speakers of varying sizes were mounted on the wall like climbing ivy, all pointing directly toward the city center.

As he stood there confused about what was going on, the row of loudspeakers finished its sound check and finally began to broadcast.

A clean, proper Federation-accented voice drifted from the speakers.

It sounded like The Survivor’s Daily was being read out?

Li Shudong wasn’t the only one stunned. Wang Dashan, who was standing next to him, also froze.

“... Why are they suddenly playing the news?”

“No idea...”

Usually, the news only played during mealtime in the mess hall, this was the first time they had ever heard it on the frontline.

“What’s going on?”

“Did the logistics team plug something in wrong?”

“Who’s gonna ask?”

The soldiers all looked at each other in confusion.

At that moment, their squad captain walked over, cleared his throat, and said, “Back to your posts. No gossiping.”

As the captain approached, Li Shudong quickly saluted. “I have a report, sir! It seems the broadcast on the line’s acting up!”

As if anticipating the question, the captain replied casually, “Relax, there’s nothing wrong with the broadcast. It’s part of a new tactic the shelter residents developed for the Tide. Central Command mentioned it in yesterday’s briefing, just let it play.”

The operation was codenamed “Bodyguard,” the same codename used for both the building and the radio station.

According to Central Command’s assessment, the Tide that year might attack from an unexpected direction, potentially bypassing the defense lines designed based on spore-cloud concentrations.

To regain battlefield initiative, they had to exploit the Mother Body’s misunderstanding of human behavior, by creating a fake weak point along the middle of the left defense line as bait.

He didn’t quite understand how a bunch of loudspeakers could serve as bait, but since it was the shelter residents’ idea, he trusted it.

If the plan succeeded, the Slime Mold main force would be lured toward Defense Sector 06, allowing the New Alliance to concentrate its forces to crush the portion of the Tide that penetrated their interior lines.

The soldiers looked at each other blankly, their faces full of confusion, even the veterans who had fought in the Luoxia Province campaign wore the same expression, like they were seeing something utterly foreign.

A... new tactic?

Can this even be considered a tactic?

...

The Survivor’s Daily played for half an hour, then they read the newspaper for another half hour, and then they ran out of content.

Standing beside the radio tower, the group of unprepared players looked helpless.

Turning to the others behind him, Falling Feather scratched his head. “So... what do we play next?”

Everyone exchanged glances. Stopping Fights tried to suggest, “What about the weather forecast?”

Mosquito rolled his eyes. “There aren’t even weather satellites, what forecast? ...Wait, why don’t we loop it?”

Ample Time shook his head. “Better not. If it’s all in Federation language, it’ll be easy for that thing to notice patterns... ah, damn, I almost forgot, we can play stuff from the real world!”

Old White scratched his head and offered, “Then... Why don’t we broadcast Earth’s news reports?”

Falling Feather’s eyes lit up. “Good idea.”

Ample Time cleared his throat and quickly stopped them. “Let’s think a bit broader. It doesn’t have to be the news, we can play comedy, skits, music... anything that Thea can’t interpret or find a pattern in.”

Escaping Mole scratched his head, feeling the plan sounded shaky, but he couldn’t think of a better one. “So then it’ll think this is our Mother Body? Isn’t that... a little too easy?”

Ample Time shook his head. “Of course that alone isn’t enough. We’ll need to adjust our troop deployments when the music starts, or launch feints outside the line. That’s the real trick, as long as it believes it’s found a pattern, our deception will work.”

That, at least, everyone understood. Sideline Slacking grinned, picked up his rifle, and said, “Got it, the feint’s on our Death Corps!”

Mosquito chuckled, “I got it! I’ll do some singing! That’s my specialty!”

Seeing him brag, Falling Feather couldn’t help rolling his eyes. “Shut up, you goose. That duck voice of yours will scare our allies away.”

Night Ten burst into laughter. “Hahaha!”

The room filled with laughter. Even Gale, who rarely showed emotion, couldn’t help but smirk. The only person who looked offended was Mosquito.

“Tsk, don’t underestimate my heavenly voice. I have to show you what real art is today!” Mosquito snapped.

He immediately grabbed the microphone from the radio console. Falling Feather didn’t stop him, he just grinned and flipped the broadcast from recorded to live.

“Yiwu?”

“It’s fine, Little Feather, if he wants to show off so badly, let him.”

The room fell silent.

Everyone waited for Mosquito to start.

He cleared his throat, mustering all his courage.

“Ahem!”

He was ready, emotions prepped, just about to sing, but the awkwardness hit. He hadn’t actually decided what to sing.

Shame, the mic was in his hand, and everyone’s eyes were on him. If he didn’t sing something, he would truly embarrass himself.

The room stayed quiet. Mosquito’s face turned red as his toes clenched into the floor.

Then... It hit him, there weren't just 10 people listening.

There were tens of thousands on the Defense Sectors who would hear him sing.

With the sheer volume of those speakers outside, half of Boulder Town could probably hear him cough!

He didn’t care what the NPCs thought, but there would definitely be some asshole who would record his singing and upload it online.

If his singing really leaked, how was he ever going to brag again?

Sweat trickled down his forehead.

Finally, inspiration struck.

If I’m not afraid of it being awkward, who cares! They can think what they want!

“Now presenting the debut song of my favorite singer!” He took a deep breath, raising the mic with the drama of a master carpenter lifting a violin saw.

“It’s al-...”

He hadn’t even finished the second syllable before the others lunged forward and wrestled the mic away.

“Okay, okay! We believe you can sing!”

“Forget it, Mosquito, bro, please!”

“I’m begging you, don’t sing!”

As several strength type monsters snatched the mic and started hauling him out the door, Mosquito yelled, “Let me go! I can still sing! Let me finish!”

Watching his figure vanish outside, Ample Time turned his gaze back and coughed softly.

“... Let’s just play some normal music.”

Falling Feather nodded earnestly.

...

After an entire afternoon of chaos, the battlefield radio station codenamed “Bodyguard” finally started functioning properly.

Although called a battlefield station, it had basically turned into the players’ personal radio.

The process was simple. All they had to do was leave a comment on the official forum thread, and their requested song would be added to the playlist.

Accessing the official site was easy. There was no need to log out. As long as their VM was within signal range, they could open it in-game. Syncing real-world data into the game was no problem either, just one VM did the job. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

At first, the songs were pretty normal.

There were kids’ favorites like Lonely Warrior, and older folks’ picks like The Viral Factor.

Even some trending BGM from short-video platforms, Berlin Flakturme, Tunak Tunak Tun, and others started playing.

But after two days, most popular songs had already played, and everyone was getting tired of them. They were quickly running out of fresh ideas.

Except for Ample Time, Spring Water Commander, and a few veterans who were still taking the mission seriously, most players had nearly forgotten what they were even supposed to do.

So the jokers began to show up, slipping all kinds of weird stuff into the playlist.

Like My Little Pony.

Or I Got Smoke.

One moment the radio was blasting the N word, and the next it jumped into rickrolling the enemies.

Players behind the machine guns were laughing so hard their stomachs hurt, while Sideline Slacking, out on patrol, could barely keep a straight face.

The NPCs, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy it. They couldn’t understand the lyrics, but found the rhythm catchy. Some even hummed along.

Three days into Operation Bodyguard, the deception results were still uncertain.

Whatever it was, the so-called battlefield radio had already been completely turned into a joke.

Not only Ample Time, Old White, Spring Water Commander, Escaping Mole, and Sideline Slacking were struggling to keep it together, even Chu Guang had black lines running down his face.