Chapter 12: Chaos Beneath the Peace

“War? Is there really still war going on? Doesn’t the internet preach peace every single day?” Zhou Luo muttered under his breath, a look of confusion on his face. After all, war felt far too distant to someone like him.

“That just shows how little you know.”

Shu Yiheng set down his chopsticks, leaned forward slightly, and lowered his voice even further, as if sharing some closely guarded secret.

“The internet’s propaganda is one thing, but localized skirmishes have been going on continuously these past few years. Haven’t you noticed gas prices dropped a bit last year and this year?”

“Seems like it. Two years ago, gas prices went through the roof. Back then, I only rode a bicycle when going out, leaving my car at home as a display piece since I couldn’t afford to fuel it up. I’d rather pedal a bike for two kilometers than step on the gas once. But I heard gas prices in the neighboring country really took off over the last two years,” Zhou Luo replied.

“That’s because production at the oilfield jointly developed along our border with them kept falling in recent years, and it couldn’t supply both countries at once. Then the neighboring country took advantage of us being off guard to seize the field and station troops there, which drove our gas prices sky-high a few years ago.”

“But two years ago, we sent special forces in to take the oilfield back, which is why prices dropped,” Shu Yiheng said with an air of mystery.

“For real?” Zhou Luo’s eyes widened instantly.

“If you don’t believe me, ask Brother Kai. He was in the special forces, so he definitely knows more.”

With that, everyone turned to look at Liao Yunkai in unison. Zhou Luo asked in a low voice, “Brother Kai, is that true?”

Liao Yunkai fell silent. He touched the stumps of his legs, and only after a long pause did he speak: “It’s true.”

Because the world had gone so long without open war, no country maintained a large standing army, but the vast majority of their forces were special operations units. Liao Yunkai had once been one of them.

He had taken part in that battle for the oilfield back then, and it was in that very fight that he lost both legs forever. After his discharge, the government provided him with generous benefits, ensuring he would never have to worry about food or shelter.

Yet he refused to spend the rest of his life confined to a wheelchair like an invalid, so he turned to virtual games. In the virtual world, he could still run as swiftly as ever, just like any normal person.

Among them, 《Battlefield Vanguard》 was the one he knew best and played most often. In fact, a map in it called Blackwell Oilfield had been modeled directly on the battle he had fought at the oilfield back then.

He played that map again and again, imagining how things might have gone if only he had done better back then.

Later, drawing on his past experience as a special forces soldier and his deep understanding of that map, he gradually became a major streamer for 《Battlefield Vanguard》.

“Then is 《Battlefield Vanguard》 really a military training ground? Will we get drafted to fight against other countries in the future?!” Zhou Luo asked anxiously. This was a topic heavily debated online right now.

Some claimed that 《Battlefield Vanguard》 was training software secretly developed by the military to groom all players into reserve soldiers without their knowledge.

The game’s authentic firearm data had been supplied by the military, all so civilians could familiarize themselves with weapon handling in advance.

Others said that once war broke out, all high-ranked players in 《Battlefield Vanguard》 would receive draft orders.

“I don’t know…” Liao Yunkai shook his head.

He truly didn’t know whether 《Battlefield Vanguard》 was a training ground. He had left the service years ago and lost contact with his old comrades, so classified insider details like that would never reach his ears.

Still, he had his suspicions. That oilfield struggle years ago was by no means an isolated case; identical conflicts had flared up between many countries.

He had even heard that two small nations hadn’t seen rain for an entire month; rivers ran dry, reservoirs emptied out, and crops began withering across vast stretches of farmland.

In the end, to fight over a single cross-border water source, their armies faced off along the border for three whole days and nights, stopping just short of an all-out battle.

Tensions between nations had long been festering and deepening, merely suppressed beneath the surface and hidden from ordinary citizens.

But he knew that this resentment, pent up to the absolute limit, would erupt completely sooner or later.

“I hope 《Battlefield Vanguard》 is just a game, and I hope you never have to step onto a battlefield,” Liao Yunkai said.

He had fought in war, and now he still spent twelve hours every day playing 《Battlefield Vanguard》, charging into battle with rifle in hand. Grenades, rocket launchers, tanks, aircraft; he had used every weapon and seen every kind of battlefield.

In the eyes of many, he seemed exceptionally warlike, as though he had been born for the battlefield.

But he knew in his heart that he was simply trapped in that day.

Every time he played the oilfield map, it felt as if he were back in that smoke-filled afternoon, as if playing just one more match, winning just one more match, could change something.

Yet whenever a match ended and the word “VICTORY” flashed across the screen, he looked down, only to see those two empty trouser legs.

A game was ultimately just a game.

Between it and real war lay a world of difference.

If you died in a game, pressing the respawn button brought you right back to your feet. But on a real battlefield, a single bullet to the chest put you down; there was no countdown timer, and no respawn button.

In Liao Yunkai’s eyes, sending people who had only ever played games off to war was nothing short of sending them to their deaths.

Liao Yunkai’s words plunged everyone around him into silence.

“All right, let’s drop it and eat. The food’s getting cold,” Shu Yiheng called out, serving dishes to everyone around him.

The others stopped dwelling on the subject and moved on to new topics.

“《Battlefield Vanguard 2》 is coming out soon. I heard the rifles will all be automatic, so we won’t have to work bolt-action handles anymore.”

“Really? Automatic rifles? That’ll be amazing! My hand’s about to get tendonitis from working those bolt actions.”

“I’m looking forward to the new vehicles. I heard tanks are getting fire-control targeting and autoloaders, so we won’t have to haul ammo like pack mules anymore. Last time I streamed, I spent five whole minutes hauling shells, and the chat was completely spammed with, ‘Hey streamer, did you come here to haul bricks^[1] or fight a war?'”

“I’m looking forward to the SMGs. The range might be short, but flanking to pick people off from behind is practically unbeatable!”

This new topic drew everyone’s attention once again. After all, it directly affected their future streaming careers.

Right as the discussion was growing heated, the front door was pushed open, and a sharply dressed middle-aged man in a suit walked in.

“Boss, what brings you here?” Seeing the middle-aged man walk in, everyone was a bit surprised. That was Tan Qianfan, the head of their streaming company. At this time of day, he was usually out negotiating business deals and landing sponsorships for his streamers.

“Since everyone’s here, I have an announcement. For the next couple of days, stop streaming 《Battlefield Vanguard》. Starting tonight, you’ll be streaming Miteng Company’s 《Resident Evil: Raccoon City》.”