Chapter Twenty: "You Have Died"

“We lost Germany, then France, and if we lose again today… there’s no point in fighting anymore!”

“I know you’re all under a lot of pressure. It’s normal to be afraid, but remember: without fear, there is no courage!”

“Paratroop deployment in two minutes!”

Sergeant Farrell paced back and forth inside the cabin, delivering his pre-battle pep talk, while the rest of the squad busied themselves mocking Private Cage, their so-called “officer.”

Just as Farrell said, the garrison’s rumors were deadly. In a single night, Cage had become the camp’s laughingstock.

His comrades’ jeers didn’t matter much; what truly terrified Cage was going to the battlefield, facing death, and—where the hell was the safety catch, anyway?!

The helicopter’s hatch opened below, everyone ready to deploy. As he looked down, Zhou Shu couldn’t help but tense nervously.

Last time, he’d died suddenly on this very stretch of beach.

But now, things were different. Unlike the previous hazy confusion, or even watching it unfold on film, he was fully participating in the action this time, seeing things that were never shown in the movie or in his earlier experience.

When he’d watched the film, almost ninety percent of the scenes at this stage focused on the ground battle and the powered exoskeletons. But being here, he realized it was far more complex.

This operation involved not only quad-rotor transport choppers and powered exoskeletons, but also gunships, Osprey helicopters, and fighter jets providing close air support. The sea brimmed with warships offering naval gunfire, and supply vehicles rolled ashore, ready to resupply at any moment.

Most striking of all were the “Bison-class” hovercraft, capable of transporting both troops and equipment while laying down fire support.

That general truly wanted to turn this operation into a grand victory, to inspire the morale of humanity’s forces.

Unfortunately, the film’s plot had already decreed they would walk into an ambush.

The “Mimics,” those alien monsters, had learned from humanity’s tactics. Most of them hid underground, leaving only a few on the beach to act as bait, luring humans into the trap.

Once the landing began, the aliens unleashed a withering bombardment, inflicting devastating casualties on the invaders in mere moments.

Why not use tanks and artillery to counter the monsters? Because those vehicles crawled across the sand like turtles, and it was from them that the aliens had learned their own “artillery” tactics.

Both sides now possessed artillery, but whereas the aliens darted about with epileptic agility, the human tanks and guns moved as if mired in molasses—easy targets. Thus, the military had abandoned them in favor of powered exoskeletons, which could be fitted with cannons and presented much smaller targets.

Not to mention the naval guns, missiles, fighters, and helicopters in the sky providing support.

Just when humanity thought victory was in their grasp, they fell right into the monsters’ trap.

Zhou Shu marveled at how formidable the Hunter System was—this simulated battlefield not only recreated the film’s storyline, but also added logical elements the movie couldn’t show, making it feel like a world straight out of “Edge of Tomorrow.”

To which the system responded: [The “Edge of Tomorrow” virtual battlefield covers only the areas relevant to the actual plot; the entire Earth and distant stars are not simulated. Internet connections, TV reports, and the starry sky you see are essentially game textures as you understand them. The system does not possess the ability to generate a real world.]

[However, if you wish for a larger simulated battlefield—say, the entire planet—simply “pay more.”]

How droll. The system even had a sense of humor.

Too bad—he was broke.

While Zhou Shu was exchanging friendly banter with the system, the sergeant completed another circuit of the cabin, finally stopping beside him. Checking his watch, he barked, “All units, prepare for drop! Thirty seconds! On my command, get ready, pull your deployment cords, and remember—”

As Zhou Shu listened, he sensed something was off.

At present, he was sitting diagonally across from Tom Cruise’s character—a fine vantage point for watching the show, and the sergeant was right by his side, making it easy to follow orders.

But he seemed to recall, when watching the movie, that it was precisely this spot that…

“Boom—”

He never finished the thought. Fire and thunder consumed him, the world quaking violently, agony stabbing through his very core.

Then darkness.

Three words appeared before his eyes.

[You are dead!]

A strange sensation of falling overcame him, and then light returned—he found himself standing once more in front of the base entrance.

He stared blankly for a moment at the familiar sentry before finally coming to his senses.

“Ah, damn…”

“Damn it, I actually picked the spot that gets blown up!”

He quickly ducked around the corner of the wall, cast a rueful glance at the camp gates, and sighed, “Well, that’s why you have save and reload. Next time, I’ll pick a better place.”

“Hunter, show me my latest stats.”

[Hunter System (Simulation Mode)]

[User: Zhou Shu (Recruit)]

[Mental: 0.93 (+0.02)]

[Strength: 0.74 (+0.01)]

[Agility: 0.75 (max)]

[Endurance: 0.72 (+0.01)]

[Constitution: 0.74 (+0.01)]

[Languages: Native (Fluent), English (Beginner)]

[Auxiliary Equipment: One “Edge of Tomorrow” powered exoskeleton (Good condition)]

[Origin Energy: 1.37]

[Training evaluation updated. Display evaluation?]

“…”

“No.”

[Understood.]

He dismissed the evaluation, which might ruin his mood again. The latest data showed that, except for agility (which had reached its cap due to lack of training), all other attributes had improved.

From Zhou Shu’s analysis, combining his first experience with this round of simulated battle, he’d basically figured out how each attribute grew.

The first time in the simulation, he’d been utterly lost, did nothing, and therefore gained nothing in strength, agility, or endurance—a logical outcome.

This time, with proper training, strength and endurance had increased.

That all lined up.

Then, before dying this time, his constitution hadn’t risen; immediately after death, it did.

He could now be fairly certain of the connection between “death” and “constitution”: each time he died, his constitution increased by 0.01.

“Really…”

He ran a hand over his completely unharmed body, recalling how he’d been blown up in the chopper, unsure what to make of it.

He’d compared the simulated battlefield to a training game, but dying here was anything but simple—the pain before death was all too real, both physically and mentally.

Of course, this time he’d been fully conscious, and the Hunter System understood the difference, ensuring he wouldn’t die of shock or be forced out of the simulation by pain, as before.

But death was still death—a profound shock.

This “real” impact of dying triggered a survival response in his genes, making him tougher and more vital, thereby strengthening his constitution.

The incomplete data released by the Hunter confirmed this.

Because the world was different, the system couldn’t define everything instantly, fearing it might lead Zhou Shu down the wrong evolutionary path.

Now that he’d figured it out himself and tested it twice, the Hunter System validated the information and released its reserve data.

In fact, all living things possess this ability—though most can only die once, making self-driven “evolution” impossible.

Still, evolution could occur in their descendants.

Like armor stacking.

The first generation of creatures, to survive, formed tough shells. Generation after generation of selection made the armor thicker and stronger, eventually giving the species the resilience their ancestors desired.

Yet there was a catch: predators feeding on these armored prey would, in turn, evolve stronger jaws, gradually becoming specialists at cracking tough shells.

“Stack the thickest armor, take the hardest hits”—perhaps that’s what it means.