Chapter One: Two Bewildered Souls on the Beach

"Woo woo woo—"
"Woo—"
Zhou Shu felt the wind rushing against his face, then immediately roaring past his ears. He sensed his entire body plummeting, forcefully yanked downward by some powerful force.

His mind was foggy, his eyelids heavy, unable to open his eyes at all; he could only perceive alternating flashes of red and black "before his eyes."

"Bang~"
"Boom~"
"Ah—"
The chaotic noises nearby finally managed to coalesce his consciousness. In the red phase, he forced his eyes open to a thin slit, only to be instantly overwhelmed by the light, causing him to shut them again.

But just in that fleeting moment, he became lucid, his mind flashing with several crucial pieces of information!

"There’s light!"
"If there’s light, it means morning has come, and probably broad daylight!"
"There’s class today, morning study period—I might be late!"
"And finally... those rascals in the dorm went to class without waking me!"

At this thought, Zhou Shu immediately widened his eyes.

If only he hadn't opened them; the moment he did, he was scared witless by what he saw.

Day had indeed broken. Whether he saw red or black depended on the sunlight being in front or behind him, or whether his eyelids were exposed to the light.

That rapid alternation between red and black wasn't the sun shifting positions, but him moving at high speed.

More precisely, he was flying through the air, revolving around a certain point, the sensation of falling caused by centrifugal force from the rotation!

Stunned, he glanced to the side. His vision was blurry, with many figures and numbers flickering rapidly.

It seemed several people were flying nearby, each strapped with what appeared to be a metal frame, trailing a steel cable, spinning rapidly.

It was reminiscent of the spinning chairs at an amusement park.

Damn, being nearsighted was a real setback—without glasses, everything was just "seems like."

"Crack~"

Before he could react, he felt something snap, and his body suddenly dropped!

"Wha—"
"Splosh!"
"Damn!"

Zhou Shu crashed into a puddle, his body feeling as if it had fallen apart.

He landed face-first in the water, instinctively propping himself up with his hands to keep from choking.

Just that subconscious push, and his whole body shot straight up in an instant!

That movement was so forceful he stumbled backward two steps on the wet ground before regaining his balance.

And then, he was dumbfounded.

Granted, he was dumbfounded quite a lot lately, but who could blame him? Anyone witnessing this scene would be equally stupefied.

His vision was dirty, streaked with traces of flowing dirty water. It turned out he was wearing a helmet with lenses, the dirty water streaming across them.

At the same time, sharp, chaotic noises blasted through the helmet's headphones, evidently damaged by the fall, now so loud his ears felt deafened. He quickly tore the helmet off.

Once removed, his vision improved significantly—though still blurry from nearsightedness, he could roughly make out that he stood on a damp stretch of beach, the sea behind him.

It should have been a vast, open scene, but now the skies were filled with helicopters, and people in metal frames kept running around him.

Farther along the beach were more people, vehicles passing by, and torrents of fire and black smoke billowing from shattered helicopters.

The sounds of running, machinery, and splashing water filled his ears.

Shouts, explosions, buzzing—his head throbbed.

To Zhou Shu, the scene was utter chaos, making his mind buzz.

Only now did he realize: he was on a fiercely contested battlefield!

But he was supposed to be sleeping in his dormitory bunk—how had he ended up on a battlefield, wearing a metal frame that let him run everywhere?

A dream, perhaps?

But it felt far too real!

Dizzy.jpg

He was still dazed when he heard someone behind him shout in English, "Yeah! Woohoo—we did it!"

"Thank God, we did it! Ah—"

Turning toward the sound, he saw a metal-framed figure crushed beneath a falling helicopter, sand, muddy water, and debris spraying everywhere.

"Holy—!"

Alarmed, Zhou Shu bolted—one should never stand beneath a crumbling wall, much less a falling troop transport helicopter!

He hadn't yet turned fully when a piece of flying debris zipped past his face, grazing his forehead and vanishing into the distance.

Blood immediately began to flow.

This struck his soul with a chill; his fuzzy thoughts and vision sharpened in an instant!

He finally saw clearly: the items he and others wore weren't just metal frames—they were full sets of powered exoskeletons!

But this place was too dangerous; best to escape quickly.

Seeing others run forward, he instinctively followed—they couldn't flee to the sea behind them, as there was nowhere to go.

Even running with others required strategy: always keep someone in front to act as a shield, and constantly scan the sky, lest a helicopter drop and crush him.

Whether asleep in bed or truly on a battlefield, Zhou Shu had no intention of dying.

Even more so, he hadn’t yet figured out what was happening—dying in confusion would be the worst.

Once moving, he noticed the seemingly rugged, heavy exoskeleton was astonishingly nimble; as soon as he made a motion to step, the assistive power kicked in.

He progressed in a "half-walk, half-push" manner, while fiery balls spewing spiral smoke streaked across the sky, blanketing it.

Suddenly, one of these fireballs broke formation, hurtling straight toward the person ahead, striking his "iron shield."

"Boom—"

The exoskeleton-clad figure in front collapsed instantly, prompting Zhou Shu to sidestep quickly.

"Damn, I’m really clever!"

He was startled by his fallen comrade, about to follow another, when someone collided with him.

Turning, Zhou Shu saw a middle-aged foreign man, face tense, somewhat familiar.

The man was also clad in a rugged exoskeleton. Seeing Zhou Shu turn, he hurriedly asked, "Buddy, my safety—oh God, are you even fifteen?"

What kind of question was this, a foreigner suddenly speaking to him? But he understood the English about age, having practiced plenty during schooldays.

"Of course, I’m an adult!" he replied smoothly, also in English.

He still had more than a month before turning eighteen, but outside he always claimed adulthood—everyone his age did.

But now wasn’t the time for that; this place was far too dangerous, and he needed to escape.

"Hey, hey, buddy, don’t go, help me out," the man blocked him, asking, "Do you know how to unlock the safety?"

"Safety??"

Zhou Shu echoed the unfamiliar English term, face full of confusion.

"Yes, I can’t unlock my firearm safety—no, I can’t even find it. Can you tell me where it is?"

The man spoke rapidly and nervously, his sentence structure muddled—Zhou Shu barely understood, but surprisingly, the scene felt familiar, and he guessed the man’s meaning.

Looking at his hands, he found each gripping a handle connected to the mechanical arms; the right arm held an assault rifle, the left had three large-caliber launch tubes.

His thumbs pressed several buttons on the handles, beside which was a small screen.

He pointed the gun at the sand and pressed randomly; the screen flashed English warnings and icons: "Weapon locked, unable to activate."

He’d played enough foreign shooting games to recognize the term. Even if not, pulling the trigger without firing made the situation clear.

"Uh... mine, can’t unlock either."

"..."

Both were flabbergasted—amidst raging war, neither could unlock their firearm safety. Incredible!

Was this even reasonable?