Chapter 8 The Rise of the Empire

After a few minutes, Xiao Buli felt that the thing must have left. When he entered the living room again, the strange chill had already dissipated. Xia Zuowei lay on the ground, his chest soaked with blood seeping from his military coat, dyeing it bright red. His helmet was still on his head, but inside, his brain had turned into a mushy pulp. The air was filled with a stench of blood mixed with feces and urine, reminding him that this wasn't just a game.

"Poor fellow." He gazed at the body on the floor, silently pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and putting it in his mouth. His fingers trembled slightly as he tried to light it several times before finally getting the cigarette to ignite. For the first time, Xiao Buli felt fear toward this game.

This could perhaps be how my own end comes about, he thought to himself but promptly suppressed the thought—fear never leads to anything good.