Top Warzone Analyst Chapter 49

After the side quest ended, the group wasn’t immediately kicked out.

Once the negative status effects wore off, Song Zheng leaped down from the top of the vehicle full of vitality, hands on his hips, bursting into unbridled laughter.

Cheng Feng sat up on top for a little while longer, then Shen Dan drove over to meet up. The surviving members of the team gathered together and insisted on pulling her down to take photos for keepsakes.

What was there to photograph in a game? Cheng Feng didn’t quite understand. But unable to resist these victory-drunk, immature youngsters, she reluctantly went along with them to the center for a group photo.

The officer who got out of the vehicle from the opposite side stopped about a meter away, arms crossed, watching them with a fond expression. His face wore a complicated look, as if he was struggling to convince himself that they’d just sustained brain injuries from the explosion and needed tolerance and understanding.

After taking a few photos, Li Qing looked down at Cheng Feng, who was a head shorter than him. The muscles in his face were almost numb from smiling – yet this little shorty wouldn’t even give him the slightest bit of enthusiasm. So he ruffled her head and urged, “Big shot, give us a smile.”

Cheng Feng perfunctorily curled her lips into a practiced, professional fake smile.

Song Zheng and Li Qing then raised her hands from both sides, posing her in a victory-celebrating gesture. They didn’t nod in satisfaction until every single person in the photos was beaming with goofy grins.

Cheng Feng said, “I’m logging off now.”

What these people really cared about was indeed not her; heads down, absorbed in carefully selecting photos, they merely waved a dismissive hand in response.

Zheng Yi and a few students who had logged out early were crouching by the training room entrance, sighing deeply.

They had logged off too soon – though they’d lost their lives, their names weren’t even in the game’s finale. It left them feeling empty and melancholic.

When the lead instructor saw them in this listless, zombie-like state, he found it inauspicious and moved a little farther away. It wasn’t until Cheng Feng and the others logged back in that he put on a smile again.

“Well done!” The instructor showered them with unreserved praise. “Although there was a minor slip-up in the first round, you adjusted your state quickly, made precise judgments, and coordinated seamlessly. Cheng Feng’s observational skills were also sharp enough to successfully steer the team in the right direction – excellent work! I could write an eight-hundred-word essay praising you!”

This was absolutely the highest form of praise! Zheng Yi and the others felt a twinge of intense envy.

Cheng Feng wasn’t really listening; her attention was immediately caught by the little owl in his arms.

This poor intelligent robot’s feathers had all been ruffled the wrong way, making it look like an exploded lion’s head.

As a combat robot, despite its small size, it had a bit of a temper. Finding itself unable to escape the instructor’s torment, it kept its head down and continuously pecked at his arm.

However, given its mechanical appearance designed for young children, its resistance was about as effective as tickling. The instructor continued rubbing its soft, smooth fur with his large palm, completely unaware that he had already triggered the owl’s self-defense program.

Cheng Feng took her friend over and held it in her arms, smoothing down its feathers. Song Zheng and the others had also logged out one after another, and the instructor turned to share his excitement with them.

Song Zheng took the water handed to him by the instructor, and surprisingly didn’t feel flattered – his rationality clearly having taken a leave of absence. He asked dominantly, “Tell me, how many rounds did it take for them to succeed?”

“They haven’t succeeded yet.” The instructor said with a grin. “Besides us, the most successful so far is UMU- they’re almost through their fourth life. But they didn’t choose a good save point for this round. If they don’t restart from the hospital location, I estimate it’ll take them another five rounds.”

The group felt a surge of satisfaction, completely forgetting how to spell the word “modesty.”

Cheng Feng asked, “What’s the real story afterwards?”

The instructor turned around, his smile fading slightly. “The vaccine was successfully developed, but there wasn’t quite enough time… Some patients died from their injuries, and some developed rather severe aftereffects. Still, 90% of the citizens were successfully saved.”

Cheng Feng nodded thoughtfully.

The instructor affectionately patted the students on the back and said, “Go get some rest. Everyone worked hard today, and you performed well.”

He turned back and smiled at Zheng Yi and the others. “You too.”

Zheng Yi was momentarily stunned, and a little feeling of pleasure bubbled up inside him.

But the moment it surfaced, he silently scorned himself for it.

Sometimes he found it strangely absurd – playing in competitions, undergoing training… In the end, winning or losing didn’t matter as much as that faint smile the instructor gave them.

They silently wept inside. Was this the aftereffect of being military academy students?

Cheng Feng retrieved her optical computer and lit it up to find that Xiang Yunjian and the others had each sent her red packets.

She accepted them a little sheepishly and replied with a “thank you” for their contribution to the cause of poverty alleviation.

Upon receiving a response, Jiang Linxia immediately fired off over a dozen messages, totaling a lengthy three to four hundred words. The core message was that he really liked this new type of instance and was eager to play it.

…What did him liking it have to do with Cheng Feng?

Xin Kuang screenshotted their photo and sent it over. Cheng Feng stared at her own face in the picture for a moment, and concluded that it looked really silly indeed.

Yan Shen tactfully expressed his opinion, hoping that next time she could spare just a little bit of the gentleness she showed rescue targets for the sniper.

…This guy was dreaming quite pleasantly.

Xiang Yunjian, on the other hand, was more practical. He invited Cheng Feng to eat together and extended the invitation that represents friendship for every struggling student – to play games together next time.

Cheng Feng replied with a smiley face.

Xiang Yunjian: …Next time, better not send that emoji. [Smile]

Ye Guicheng: Why?

Xiang Yunjian: You can send this one. [Owl Smiling]

Xiang Yunjian: Because it’s not cute enough.

Cheng Feng looked at the little owl’s edited, upturned mouth and thought he had a point. She casually saved the emoji to her collection.

…

Two days later, after the higher-ups finished their review, San Yao’s new side quest was approved for implementation. However, the entry barrier was to be strictly controlled, and participation qualifications were not to be opened to ordinary netizens.

This was good news. That very evening, San Yao released a edited video, posting it on their homepage, leaving countless unsuspecting netizens utterly bewildered.

The editor was exceptionally skilled. With the help of filters and background music, they managed to craft a video of grand and majestic scope.

When the video was released, Cheng Feng was in her dormitory doing command training. Unable to withstand the relentless @mentions in various group chats, she hid under the covers to watch it quietly.

She held up her optical computer and put on her earphones.

On the pitch-black screen, a flash of white light streaked by, and the first sound to emerge was the piercing wail of an alarm.

The opening scene was an aerial view of the sky.

Turbid clouds and mist shrouded the city, cold-toned light blocked outside the haze, giving it a distant, otherworldly, ethereal beauty when viewed from afar.

Then the shot descended, weaving through empty, desolate streets.

The background sound gradually faded, replaced by fragments of muffled conversation and faint sobbing, so quiet it was hard to make out.

The camera continued to roam, capturing abandoned structures lying across the middle of the road, capturing pedestrians collapsing by the roadside as they coughed. Finally, it froze on a pair of eyes, leaning against a window, staring out at the world with a desolate gaze.

Inside a crowded carriage, the light was dim and gloomy.

A young man in military uniform spoke gravely, “We can’t fail again. We can’t keep pinning our hopes on the next opportunity. There simply aren’t that many chances out there waiting for us.”

The screen flickered, sweeping through a few close-up shots.

In the corner of a hospital, faces filled with confusion and unease; in the lower levels of a laboratory, patients wearing expressions of numbness or grief. And hands clenched tightly on the corner of a military uniform, knuckles white from the strain, muscles trembling incessantly.

Underlying this was the young man’s powerful declaration, “Can we just abandon them and look away? A soldier’s nature makes such a thing impossible!”

“But what else can we do!”

“Fight with our lives!”

Then the pace suddenly quickened. Infectious music swelled in the background, and the visuals became tragically heroic.

Amidst flying bullets and explosions, the young men stood firm against enemy assaults, their faces and bodies marked with small scratches and stains of blood.

One roared in anger, “Get lost! Do you think I’d let you trample over my corpse a second time?!”

Another chuckled calmly. “Goodbye, guys.”

Immediately after, Cheng Feng saw herself.

She was thrown to the ground by a burly man, glaring back at him with unyielding defiance.

But before two seconds had passed, the scene cut away to footage of other military academy students clashing with the enemy.

Cheng Feng wasn’t too pleased.

Why wasn’t her counterattack footage included in the edit? As the only uni to clear the game in just two rounds, why weren’t UFU given the absolute center stage?

Was this the respect owed to an MVP?

Cheng Feng slowed the playback speed, searching for glimpses of herself.

By the time the video ended, Cheng Feng had appeared in a total of four close-up shots.

Apart from that earlier clip which clearly seemed designed to paint her in a bad light, the others showed her running while carrying a rescue target, leaning against a wall deep in thought, and delivering a philosophically insightful remark – a highlight moment worthy even of being jotted down in a little notebook.

And the final scene of the video featured the five surviving students from UFU, standing in the gentle, captivating autumn breeze, holding high the Alliance’s national flag, smiling with pure and unrestrained joy.

It had to be said, that last shot was captured far better than the students themselves could have managed.

Cheng Feng felt that her expression, standing in the middle, looked really cool.

Oxygen was limited under the covers. After watching the entire video, Cheng Feng was already feeling a bit breathless, and her face was stuffy and warm.

She lifted a corner of the blanket, crawled out, and wanted to see if the netizens of this generation could recognize true talent. So she opened the comment section.

However, she was disappointed. For this kind of mixed edit that didn’t highlight individual universities’ levels, the netizens seemed to prefer giving equal appreciation to all.

“I feel like I won’t be able to sleep tonight. My head is all fired up right now.”

“@All Military Academies, promise me, use this as your admissions video next year. I guarantee you’ll attract a ton of patriotic youths.”

“@111, what are you guys doing? Switching careers to filmmaking? Well then, release the full feature! Who do you think you’re looking down on? Think I can’t afford a ticket?”

“They’re all students from military universities, looks like a joint exercise. So San Yao, when did you secretly start this instance behind our backs? Why wasn’t it streamed live? Does this seem reasonable to you?”

“Where’s the full review? What were the exercise results? Why all the secrecy? Ashamed to show it?”

“Is this what they call ‘uniform temptation’? Well, tempt me, I’m ready! I’m so ready!”

Song Zheng was also watching with great interest, posting his thoughts and reactions in their newly formed team group chat as he watched, though his focus was rather unique.

“I just love watching them fail after talking big.”

“How can they deliver such cringey lines? Clearly just trying to steal the spotlight!”

“Wait until tomorrow when the full video is released, then netizens will know what a truly low-key king looks like!”

“Does anyone have contact info for the other military universities? Can we make a group chat? We can all share experiences, hahaha! I promise I won’t laugh too loud!”

Cheng Feng sent that [Owl Smiling] emoji.

Seeing her appear, Song Zheng’s sidekick spirit rose again, and riding that wave of excitement, he started praising her in the chat.

“Sis, you’re so cool, the edit totally didn’t do you justice, so frustrating!”

“But I guess I can understand, if they filmed it realistically, the others wouldn’t have any screentime.”

“But she’s the best! My glow stick will forever have only her name on it!”

Li Qing couldn’t help but interject. “Don’t you mean your cheering placard?”

Another freshman, Song Zheng’s buddy, immediately chimed in to join the sycophantic praise.

“Sis, soar high without worry, your little bro will follow forever!”

Shen Dan, not wanting to be outdone, forwarded the message and replied: “+1”

The senior students were utterly bewildered.

Was this the new style of this year’s freshmen?

Was there any hope left for UFU‘s future?

The corners of Cheng Feng’s mouth only lifted subtly, and she came out with a leader-like summary. “No, everyone did excellently.”

Her few followers once again shamelessly echoed her sentiments.

The seniors couldn’t take it anymore.

“If you guys keep this up, I’m leaving the group chat!”

“It’s been a while since the semester started – did the freshman year add some weird compulsory course this year?”

Cheng Feng ignored them and went to watch the clip again.

The group chatted noisily until late into the night, before finally each settling down.