Chapter Twenty: Song Soldier Armor

What happens when cold weapons go up against hot weapons? The outcome is obvious. Chen Fan was now regretting it—deeply regretting it.

Holding this seemingly lightweight yet cumbersome large saber, he kept blaming himself. Why did he have to dig his own grave so enthusiastically?

"Let's go. Follow me." Zhao Gu slung the gun over her shoulder, exuding an air of dominance. There was no denying it—this outfit seemed tailor-made for her, accentuating her perfect figure flawlessly.

After sneaking another couple of inappropriate glances, Chen Fan and Zhao Gu officially stepped onto the battlefield.

"Attention, attention! Six free agents have entered the field. Recruit them or eliminate them—it's up to you." The loudspeaker broadcasted the update.

"Zhao Gu, what's the plan? Who do we side with this time?" A Song Soldier Armor-clad Chen Fan leaned against Zhao Gu, gripping his oversized saber while suspiciously scanning the surroundings.

"Side with who? Making friends in battle is a waste of time. My goal today is simple—kill them all."

Seeing the bloodthirsty glint in her eyes, Chen Fan instinctively raised his saber into a defensive stance, just in case she went into a frenzy and started indiscriminately attacking.

The battlefield was divided into two teams—black and white, each with thirty players. As Chen Fan was scouting the area, he spotted about six white-team soldiers in the forest ahead. He was about to report it when Zhao Gu suddenly leaped into a tree and silently advanced toward them.

Six gunshots rang out—no more, no less. Moments later, six players emerged from the woods, each with smoke rising from their heads.

One girl among them pouted, "That's so unfair! How can she just climb trees? I only just started playing, and she even took my glasses off." The guys in her team quickly rushed over to comfort her.

Zhao Gu gracefully landed back next to Chen Fan, made a throat-slitting gesture, and whispered, "First blood."

Chen Fan nearly lost his mind. What the hell did she watch last night?! The last thing he remembered before leaving was that he had put on Global Love Song. Did he suffer memory loss or something?

"Follow me," Zhao Gu commanded once again, now sporting a pair of glasses she had somehow acquired. The accessory, paired with her commanding presence, made her look even more heroic.

With no choice but to follow, Chen Fan trailed behind her. Under Zhao Gu's ruthless leadership, they bulldozed their way through the battlefield. At this point, the black team had fifteen players left, while the white team had been whittled down to just eight.

With such a disparity in numbers, the white team might still have had a chance with careful tactics. But unfortunately for them, at this very moment, the black and white teams collided.

Zhao Gu prepared to use the same trick again—sneaking through the treetops for a clean sweep. However, Chen Fan suddenly stopped her, standing tall as he declared, "A man only dies once, and if I must die, let it be under the Seven-Star Crescent Moon Blade. Dear comrade, this time, leave it to me."

Zhao Gu stared at him, confused, as Chen Fan crouched low, sneaking into the grass. After crawling a bit, he flattened himself completely and began creeping forward military-style.

Chen Fan mentally patted himself on the back. Good thing I didn't forget my military training from freshman year. Today, I will become a cold-blooded predator.

Meanwhile, four black-team members at the rear were watching in bafflement as a grown man in ancient armor slithered across the ground, dragging a massive saber behind him.

"Uh, Brother Wang… What is that guy doing?"

"I have no idea," Brother Wang replied, looking just as confused.

"Looks flashy but useless. Just shoot him," Wang said impatiently.

BANG.

A single shot fired. Instantly, a dark stain appeared on Chen Fan's rear—black team's signature defeat mark.

"What the hell?! That's cheating!" Chen Fan cursed loudly.

Zhao Gu shook her head in exasperation. Without hesitation, she leaped into the trees and sprang toward the black team's position. The rustling sounds of her movement were loud, putting the team on alert. They raised their weapons, scanning their surroundings. But Zhao Gu was a ghost in the treetops—despite their heavy fire, not a single bullet found its mark.

She weaved through the branches, striking with pinpoint accuracy. Within the time it took to brew a cup of tea, fifteen black-team players were down.

The remaining white-team players, seeing that their enemies had been vanquished, lowered their guard and approached.

"Wow, you wiped out the entire black team? That's impressive! Hey, why don't you join us? That way, the game ends, and we all win together."

"No. The game isn't over yet," Zhao Gu replied coldly. Without warning, she raised her weapon and fired.

Before the white-team players could react, their bodies froze in place. Their fingers refused to obey them, as if paralyzed by some dark magic.

Moments later, Zhao Gu systematically took them down with precise shots.

"That's not fair! You didn't even let us finish talking!" One of the white-team girls complained.

The male players, however, quickly dismissed their frustration, too captivated by Zhao Gu's beauty to hold a grudge.

"Wait… there are still four left," Zhao Gu muttered, suddenly turning and firing four more shots.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three colorful smoke clouds erupted in quick succession, marking the defeat of three hidden ambushers.

"One escaped," Zhao Gu noted.

She raised her gun again, but before she could fire, she noticed the smoke rising from her own vest—she had been hit.

Laughter erupted from the shadows.

"Well, well, we meet again, miss. How are you?"

A figure stepped out, smirking smugly.

"But you see, you're all my captives now. Tiger, round them up. And make sure they wear the masks."

This was the final phase of the game—Escort the Prisoners—an exclusive feature invented by the game center's owner. The defeated players had to be escorted to the hall for the game to be officially declared over.

"As soon as she puts on the mask, she'll be at my mercy on the way back. Heh, heh… Just wait and see…" The man chuckled, his mind already running through a hundred possible scenarios.

"Hahahaha!" Unable to contain his excitement, he laughed out loud—

Only to be cut short.

"Uh… B-Brother Long… you're already out."

"Huh?" The man turned around and saw Chen Fan standing behind him, casually holding his saber. His vest was spewing smoke.

"You… you were supposed to be dead! You're cheating, aren't you?" He rolled up his sleeves, preparing to pummel Chen Fan.

"Hahahaha! With your IQ, how could you possibly understand the horror of Song Soldier Armor? Sure, my weapon is this massive, impractical saber, but did I forget to mention…?" Chen Fan grinned and placed a foot on a rock, striking a dramatic pose.

"This outfit comes with an extra life!"

With hands on his hips, he laughed triumphantly.

"HAHAHAHAHA! You hear that? You're all my prisoners now!"