Comrade Su, Don’t Pretend to Be Someone Else Again.

"Mr. Mike," Jiang Xiaoci asked quietly from the side, "Do you want to donate the next batch of supplies now?"

Whenever Jiang Xiaoci asked such questions, they were either unimportant or of great significance. Clearly, this one fell into the former category. Mike had already secured third place, and the estimated value of the next batch of supplies certainly didn't compare to the 2,500 soldiers. Donating them didn't carry much weight.

"Let's hold off on that for now. We just need to secure our spot in third place," Mike said as he glanced at the rankings. The other contenders were all hovering just under a million points, and surpassing him wouldn't be easy. As long as he kept his focus and stayed on track, third place seemed safe for now.

The war points ranking was crucial as it determined the inheritance of war legacies. These legacies came from the national military's actions during the apocalypse wars, and most of the rewards were considered part of these legacies. Many survivors, participating in donations, were focused on acquiring these war legacies, hoping to strengthen their shelters. But Mike knew better. Shelters ranking high already had immense power. For them, it wasn't just about boosting strength—it was about the prestige of holding an official position.

"No one knows when the national army will return, or if they will return at all," Mike mused, "But everyone wants recognition. With an official identity, they can claim more tangible benefits."

Mike narrowed his eyes in contemplation. He was fully aware of the sharp minds out there. It wasn't just the shelter's internal mechanisms that determined power—there were other elements in the real world that contributed to growth, and the most effective one was power itself. Power often came from identity, a sense of belonging rooted in the ideals of the nation.

After the donation, the shelter settled back into its usual rhythm. There was still quiet development, and the residents worked diligently in their assigned roles. The leader of the city center was still recruiting, but didn't seem to be clashing with Mike's territory, deliberately avoiding any conflict.

Mike was left to enjoy the calm. During these crucial three days, he swiftly absorbed the resources and population of the Little White Bear Shelter and began organizing his survivor army. Throughout these days, Mike didn't receive any big wins or multiplier rewards; instead, he had only received a few B-level food production items like the Large Bread Trees, which could feed up to 20,000 people—nothing extraordinary.

What was more exciting was the parasite talent Mike had acquired. Over the three days, he successfully replicated the basic stats of Chen Dafeng—his neural response, endurance, and self-healing immunity. Though slightly weaker, Mike's physical abilities now closely mirrored Chen Dafeng's standards, a vast improvement from his former self.

But what truly preoccupied Mike was the war points leaderboard. For the past three days, the top ten had remained relatively stable. By the third day, even the top 200 had solidified. Clearly, everyone had their estimated donation amounts, and once they reached their limits, they stopped donating. This gave Mike a sense of relief—no one was overtaking his third place, allowing him to save resources for future use.

That night, as Mike prepared for another round of the Civilization Game, something unexpected happened.

A new notification appeared before him.

[Due to your current rank in the War Points Leaderboard, you have successfully received a communication request from the national military.] [There is only one communication opportunity with the national military during each apocalypse war. Based on your rank, you have been granted 10 minutes for this communication.]

Mike's heart skipped a beat. Finally, the most important part of the war donation mechanism was here!

He took a deep breath, composed himself, and spoke steadily, "Agree."

He understood that while the national military appeared to be accepting donations nationwide, they truly held all the initiative. They could always select individuals based on the leaderboard and initiate communication at their discretion. Even the leader of the top shelter couldn't proactively contact the military unless the military reached out first.

As Mike agreed, an electronic virtual interface popped up before him. There was no visual, just fluctuating waves of electrical signals, accompanied by a clear, steady, and elderly male voice.

"Hello, may I speak to the survivor of the [Unnamed Shelter]?" the voice asked, calm and reassuring.

"It's me," Mike nodded, "Are you with the national military?"

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Wang Jianguo, a staff officer at the Special Operations Command of the Apocalypse War, and I am also the leader of the First Special Team of the Apocalypse Mobile Warfare."

Mike raised an eyebrow. Wang Jianguo continued with a slight pause, sensing Mike's confusion.

"You might not have heard of this department. It was specially established by Chief No. 1 to address the global crisis we are facing—a special emergency combat unit."

Mike frowned, sensing the significance of this information.

"I understand it might be hard to grasp, but before the apocalypse, I served as a war zone commander with the rank of general."

A national general? Mike's heart raced. This was a highly significant identity—there were very few people like him, real military powerhouses.

Wang Jianguo seemed to notice Mike's surprise and smiled gently. "Please relax, no need to be nervous. For the sake of clarity, may I know your name?"

"I'm Mike," Mike hesitated before answering truthfully. There was no need to hide his identity from the national military; after all, they weren't on Earth, yet they were still fighting for the safety of the people.

"Comrade Su," Wang Jianguo said after a moment, "I noticed you're currently ranked third on the War Points Leaderboard, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Could you tell me in detail what supplies you've donated? We need to gather a rough count."

Mike raised an eyebrow. "I donated 2,500 modern army soldiers. They're recruited talent units."

"They're yours!" Wang Jianguo's surprise was evident. After a moment of silence, he laughed. "They mentioned that their commander cares deeply for national and ethnic security, and that they were sent to assist us. They also said more support would follow."

Mike didn't reply, just silently acknowledged.

Wang Jianguo continued, "This is a just decision, worthy of praise. I commend your dedication to the nation. Your actions embody the resilience and awareness of the Chinese people in the face of disaster."

Mike chuckled. "It's the least I could do. When the country is in crisis, everyone must do their part. I will do whatever I can."

"You've done well," Wang Jianguo said. "I've heard from your soldiers. You've established a gathering place in the Jinling area, rescuing many who couldn't survive on their own in the apocalypse. It's said you eradicated a notorious killing spree group. Is that true?"

"It is," Mike nodded.

Wang Jianguo's voice shifted, a faint smile in his tone. "To be honest, we used lie detectors. But the truth is, they were all honest. Restoring electricity, clearing water lines, comforting the people, building entertainment facilities, creating a labor system—you've done so much. It's hard to believe, but I commend your outstanding performance."

Mike was stunned. "A lie detector?"

It seemed the national military had access to a lot of mechanism-type tools in the apocalypse war.

Wang Jianguo smiled. "You don't care about the quality of the population, nor whether they're a burden. You simply want to save more people. It's rare to see someone like you, someone who hasn't lost sight of their initial goal, even in such a chaotic world."

Mike cautiously replied, "I know what I've done might be a bit presumptuous... maybe even a bit of identity misrepresentation, but that was never my intention."

"It's not about misrepresentation," Wang Jianguo's smile grew. "But Comrade Su, I hope you won't pretend to be someone else again. It could lead to misunderstandings."

Mike blinked, confused. "Misunderstanding what?"

"Misunderstanding your identity as not truly just, which could be twisted by some with ill intentions. A hero's sacrifice should not be misunderstood, nor should it lack a legitimate identity. The people need you, and that is the best identity you can have."

Mike's heart skipped. "So, you mean...?"

Wang Jianguo paused, his voice calm. "Comrade Su, this fake identity is simply not appropriate. I hope you can truly become a worthy leader in the apocalypse. A hero acknowledged by the nation, one who puts the people first in times of disaster."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to officially offer you a new appointment on behalf of the Special Command of the Apocalypse War."