Players Invade Cyberpunk

"European journalist investigation team? You all want to go to the frontline?"

Wildman was astonished by this group of people in front of him. Each was carrying a camera and dressed appropriately, with all the proper journalist credentials.

But this group clearly didn’t have Brother Dao’s journalist demeanor; instead, they looked like a bunch of tourists out for an adventure, with a casual air, accompanied by bodyguards who clearly had combat prowess.

And Europeans...

Wildman wanted to say something

Your future reports’ inaccuracy is your responsibility.

He also didn’t believe they would speak nicely; it would probably still be the same strange tone as the BBC or AFP.

Really don’t know what the BOSS was thinking, actually agreed to this kind of thing.

"Are you the commander-in-chief of Horizon Corporation, Major Wildman?"

A French journalist stepped forward from the group, scrutinizing Wildman up and down with an aggressive gaze.

"Do you think Horizon Corporation can still win in this war?"

"Of course."

Facing the camera, Wildman was no stranger to big occasions. The year he won the championship, he handled dozens of camera lenses without flinching.

Just a nuclear bomb, who does he think he is?

Solar?

Huang Xudong’s not here, I’m invincible!

"Hmm!"

The French journalist, though small, had a big temper and was quite disdainful of Wildman’s confidence.

"What if more nuclear bombs are dropped? Do you plan to fight back with sticks and stones?"

Even when the war situation previously was at a stalemate and players’ brave fights created countless miracles, Horizon Corporation still wasn’t favored, the disparity in power just like an ant trying to topple a tree.

As if with a little bit seriousness from the European Community, the Horizon Mercenaries would crumble.

"Nuclear bombs are indeed powerful, but using them to intimidate us is still too soon."

Wildman looked at the French journalist, as if this guy didn’t know he was a human faction player; using nuclear bombs was Wildman’s forte.

"Arthur Harris said something, now I’m passing this onto you."

"The Nazis entered the battle with a naive fantasy that only they could bomb others, and nobody could bomb them."

"If more nuclear bombs appear above Cuba, no one can guarantee that Paris, London, and Munich will remain untouched."

This is the most absurd and sci-fi thing.

The Soviet Union’s using nuclear bombs on the Middle East, Europe’s using electromagnetic cannons on Colorado in the United States, yet nobody’s throwing nuclear bombs on Europe.

There’s this female protagonist vibe from a women’s literature; I can break rules, but you can’t.

Just say it’s the common ailment of white folks.

The French journalist’s face suddenly turned quite sour.

"Seems you know nothing about Europe’s air defense security, no one can breach the European Community’s space defense power."

He indeed had the right to say this; Europeans deployed satellite weapons in space enough to intercept most supersonic long-range missiles in the atmosphere, and even Dongfeng doesn’t suffice.

"I like the impossible."

No player but Wildman is more qualified to say this, he retorted unreservedly.

"Because every impossibility in this world is a prelude to creating miracles."

After winning the championship against all odds with a 0.37% victory rate, he doesn’t believe there’s anything impossible in this world anymore.

The French journalist wanted to argue back, but was stopped by his colleagues beside him.

"Farse, we didn’t bring you here to cause trouble, if you continue like this, just go back home!"

They were here to enjoy the spectacle, seek novelty, if they upset the host and got sent back, wouldn’t that be a wasted trip?

Not everyone had the same attitude as Farse and Lancaster; most of the second-generation kids didn’t care about this war at all, with a completely indifferent mindset.

Their education made them never consider these issues, their minds occupied only with pursuing pleasure.

Women, alcohol, drugs, promiscuity, novelty, vanity...

Anything that can fill that bottomless void, they will try.

But no matter how much is filled, it can never satisfy the void, and it only gets bigger.

"Here’s the pass you wanted."

Wildman didn’t want to argue with these journalists over trivial matters, he adhered to an old Chinese mindset.

I do my thing, you say your thing.

I don’t care what you Europeans think, anyway, when the new map opens, I’m going to teach you how to behave.

What Eiffel Tower, Big Ben.

Wait for the wormwood.

Especially you!

Finnish guy!

I remembered you.

If I can’t fight off Sardines, surely I can handle you Finland?

What nonsense French Gun King, watch me Lu Bu take on five!

Wildman thought fiercely.

Meanwhile, the ’journalists’ who got the pass were already happily planning their itinerary.

"Where should we go? East Line or Western Front? I heard the nuclear bomb just went off at the Western Front, will it be dangerous?"

"What’s there to see on the East Line, just a bunch of Cubans? Of course we should check out the Western Front, danger’s where the excitement is, and Black Forest and Global Guard are over there, the fight’s bound to be thrilling."

"That’s true, just don’t know how far Global Guard has fought, hope it doesn’t end too soon."

"Will there be a lot of blood...."

"Don’t worry, haven’t we seen war Mewtwo before, just be mentally prepared..."

Actually, they don’t care about danger or not, not to mention their personal security, even if they did encounter the European army, flashing their identity would probably get them released obediently.

They often played extreme sports, seeking that very tension and excitement.