Chapter Six: Once There Was a Dream

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Ten years ago, he truly was a professional gamer. The game called CS (Counter-Strike) had given him countless beautiful memories. Yet the career of an e-sports player is fleeting—three or four years at most—and then comes retirement.

After retiring, Wu Hua lived a quiet life, working at a small company, barely getting by on a modest salary. Games, though still appealing, had become mere entertainment to him, something to fill the occasional evening at an internet café, a means of reminiscing about those youthful days of brotherhood.

But time marches on. With the advent of the full-immersion virtual game pod, “Stellar War World” crashed into his life, turning everything upside down.

Compared to Stellar War World, Counter-Strike was a world apart—like heaven and earth. In the old days, it was just a computer, a handful of guns, limited shooting knowledge. Stellar War World was an entirely different beast: not only was it a fully immersive simulation, but the sheer variety of weapons—some familiar, some utterly alien—was staggering.

Wu Hua’s obsession with all things military, paired with his deep experience in marksmanship and firearms, made getting started in Stellar War World almost effortless. But growing strong within the game was another matter entirely. In the first month since launch, he’d been spectacularly unlucky, and he’d chosen the gunman class—a notorious money pit.

There was a reason he chose gunman. First, his love for firearms was pure personal passion. Second, it was a nostalgic tribute to the bloody struggles of his CS days.

His brothers from back then had all gone their separate ways; some he’d lost touch with completely. Yet whenever he thought of them, Wu Hua’s blood would surge with excitement, and he’d recall that wild, nearly impossible dream of youth—the vision of one day raising a champion’s trophy high on the world stage.

He’d once tried to console himself: a dream is only a dream, after all—if it could be realized, would it still be a dream? But now, things were different. “Stellar War World” had rekindled his ambition. In certain ways, this game could turn that dream into reality—Desert Eagle in the left, AK in the right, grenades at his waist, flashbangs at his chest—if an enemy comes, he’ll kill; if a god stands in his way, he’ll slay a god; sniper in hand, the world is his...

Daydreams aside, reality was harsh. After a month, he’d only reached level 13, and his gear was in a pitiful state. But Wu Hua was not discouraged. He believed that with perseverance, brains, and faith, he would break through all obstacles one day, just as he had once evolved from a rookie to a gun god.

At this thought, he remembered the 1,000 credits Hotgirl had promised him, and immediately put down his chopsticks. “Big bro, you eat first, I’m full—I’m off to game.” With that, he headed to his bedroom.

A-Jie watched his retreating back and shook his head helplessly. “Ah, this kid...”

He lay down in the game pod, waited for the lid to close, the indicator light to come on. A series of retinal scans, identity confirmation, neural projection—Wu Hua entered the virtual world once more.

Upon logging in, he found himself at the Federation’s General Affairs Hall revival point in Dreamstar City.

The revival point was science fiction come to life—a hexagonal flying saucer hovered above, like a UFO, projecting a massive beam of light to the floor below. The dead would walk out of that light.

The hall was crowded, mostly with people returning from wild zones.

The moment Wu Hua appeared, several female players gathered around, giggling:

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“Look, what a poor guy!”

“Haha, he’s been blown back to just his underwear!”

“Hey friend, where’d you go hunting monsters to end up like that?”

...

Wu Hua immediately sensed something was wrong. Looking down, he was nearly moved to tears.

He was stark naked, save for a pair of bright red boxer shorts. His brown vest was gone, his camouflage pants were gone, even his shoddy cloth shoes were missing. Bare feet touched the ground. Worst of all, his beloved Mauser, once holstered at his waist, had vanished during that mutual annihilation with Malagobi.

“Malagobi, curse you to the ends of the earth!” Wu Hua howled at the sky, startling everyone nearby.

“Tsk, tsk, he’s been looted senseless and started babbling nonsense.”

“Oh, poor soul.”

“Let’s go, before he really loses it.”

...

The more Wu Hua thought about it, the more depressed he became. He’d rarely died before, but this time he’d lost big—an astonishing haul for whoever killed him.

Once he’d calmed down, he remembered that he’d managed to grab two pieces of loot before he died. He hurriedly opened his inventory.

Relief washed over him—the sensor was still there. If he’d lost that, he’d have considered deleting his account. However, three out of his five boxes of 7.63mm ammo were gone. Each box was worth three credits; the loss stung, given how hard he’d earned that money.

But when his eyes fell on the last two items, Wu Hua no longer felt like crying. Instead, he wanted to shout, “Long live the motherland! Long live Malagobi!”

“Fire Dragon Armor, purple rarity, level requirement 25; Defense 210, Durability 1221/1500, General Resistance 24.5%, Fire Element Resistance 62%. Additional Attributes: Spell Mastery +1, Ranged Mastery +1, Elemental Mastery +4.”

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With a fire resistance of 62%, Wu Hua finally understood why Malagobi had chosen to “wait for death” in the cave. The real reason was this armor. Generally, at 40% resistance, elemental attacks are halved. Malagobi had managed to secure armor with 62% fire resistance—no wonder he could stand on magma without his HP dropping from heat or temperature, and with +4 elemental mastery, it was no surprise he could stir up lava with a gesture.

Getting his hands on this armor proved Malagobi was no ordinary player.

There was also a hidden socket in the armor for gemstones, allowing further attribute enhancements. Its value was clear. Maybe, as most players’ levels and gear improved, it would become less remarkable, but at present, with the average player around level 20, this armor was exceedingly rare.

“Malagobi, you really were unlucky—mainly because you ran into me. You had it coming,” Wu Hua laughed.

The second item was also purple rarity:

“Fire Dragon Boots, purple rarity, level requirement 25; Defense 40, Durability 120/300, Resistance 7.4%. Additional Attributes: Spell Mastery +2, Strength Mastery +3, Movement Speed -8%.”

The boots’ attributes were underwhelming by comparison, though still valuable in their own right.

All his previous confusion was suddenly clear. The combined 250 defense from the boots and armor explained why bullets from the 576-joule Mauser and the 630-joule MP5 only did a few dozen points of damage in that harsh environment.

Realizing this, Wu Hua broke out in a cold sweat. He’d taken a huge gamble at the end. If he hadn’t spotted Malagobi’s weak spot, not just him, but even if he, Hotgirl, and Housewife had gone in together, they would have been moths flying into a flame.

All in all, Wu Hua’s gains and losses from this mission were balanced, but in truth, he’d come out ahead. He even felt as though, after this battle, his run of bad luck had finally ended. The time to escape poverty and rise to fortune had arrived.

Just as this thought struck him, the General Affairs Hall’s broadcast system came to life. An NPC’s melodious female voice rang out: “Hello, esteemed player Blast Maniac, your friend Hotgirl wishes to see you. She’s waiting on T3 Street outside the General Affairs Hall. Please proceed to meet her promptly. Repeating, hello, esteemed player Blast Maniac...”

Wu Hua’s spirits lifted at once. Barefoot, he dashed out the door.

Behind him, sighs and murmurs:

“Wow, his name’s Blast Maniac—no wonder he got blown up like that.”

(Author’s note: I know it’s a new book and everyone’s waiting for more chapters. I’ve updated three times today—at least give me some votes. These stats are really dismal.)