Chapter 1169: Chapter 168: Vengeance
On a high floor of a hotel in Chicago city, Illinois, United States, Ryu leaned against the window, staring at the city street scene below.
To say it’s street scenery is somewhat forced, at this very moment,
on the streets of the original Seattle city, everywhere there are American citizens holding protest demonstrations.
They wore sunglasses and various masks, covering their eyes and mouths,
wearing bulletproof vests and protective clothing,
carrying rifles and weapons on their shoulders and backs,
holding wooden signs, banners, and the American Stars and Stripes flag, striding towards the city buildings.
With the various forces fanning the flames, the news of the kill arena game about to update was leaked,
known by ordinary people worldwide.
To prevent rumors from causing deviation and triggering a more adverse reaction, the Global Occult Coalition had to hold a press conference, releasing the full content of the kill arena game update under the name of the United Nations.
But this didn’t achieve any particularly good effect.
With so much time of indoctrination, most ordinary people worldwide already knew the basic operating mechanism of the kill arena game,
very clearly aware that the line in the version update, "dynamically increasing the intensity of regular tasks," would trigger a new round of more terrifying mutations globally.
Fear, despair, and anger spread among the people,
none can remain calm in the upheaval of world affairs—
this is different from the last end-of-the-world predictions of 2012 or the Millennium,
the mass mutations caused by the kill arena game are visible and palpable,
over the past two years, the public has watched news reports of death and injury cases, with friends and family also involved, quietly passing away.
The end-of-the-world predictions of 2012 or the Millennium were at most about everyone dying together,
but the kill arena game can make people unable to survive or die.
Panic emotions brewed and accumulated, finally brewing a deadly poison, bursting forth at this moment.
Ryu leaned against the window sill, looking calmly at the street scene below.
More and more Seattle citizens walked out from buildings and apartments, joining the protest demonstration teams.
The situation was sudden, they didn’t have time to formulate unified slogans and goals for the protests,
but as they walked, they defined everyone’s demands through discussion and conversation.
"Open the city buildings! Open The Portal World! Guarantee citizens’ rights! Fairness! Fairness! We need fairness!"
Chaotic shouts echoed within the protest team,
this emotion, spreading along the networked city streets, expanded and spread.
From scattered to orderly,
from weak to strong.
"There are at least... hundreds of thousands of people, right?"
Ryu scanned with a sweeping glance, the eyes supported by props quickly calculated the total number of people participating in the protest demonstrations on the street.
This time, the protests,
came stronger than all previous protests (including the city building project that time),
not just Seattle, other big cities in the United States,
New York, Los Angeles, Houston...
also erupted with waves of protests.
Fair but unfair city building project became the main target for venting dissatisfaction.
Only privileged elites, high-income intellectuals, and a few lottery Lucky Ones were qualified to move into the city buildings with priced tags,
while others had to continue surviving elsewhere.
Although this change made house prices in big cities plummet, ordinary middle-class families could move into the originally most upscale residential areas,
but everyone knew staying outside would only result in them and their families quietly dying.
Ryu extended a fingernail, gently flicked at the glass window, easily cracking and breaking the tempered glass, letting it fall out the window, shattering into glass shards at the hotel entrance,
strictly speaking, Ryu still counted as an American,
contrary to what people worldwide imagine, American people are actually quite... contradictory,
on the one hand, they can launch a protest wave sweeping across America for a black man dying from being knelt on by a police officer,
or hold protests of hundreds of thousands for supporting abortion or banning abortion.
On the other hand, they can turn a blind eye to some truly evil phenomena existing in society long-term,
such as the astonishing number of missing persons cases in Indian residential areas every year,
such as the fact that forty-seven out of fifty states allow child marriage,
such as the Benghazi incident, the email scandal, the Prism scandal...
These events really twisted the spirit of the American constitution,
instead of drawing attention comparable to the black man being killed by a police officer, or a senator proposing to ban abortion and such matters,
more capable of attracting the eyes of American people, more capable of stirring waves of opposition.
Ryu couldn’t help but show a slight ironic cold smile on her face,
she had a profound understanding of the peculiar psychology of American people,
after long-term indoctrination and brainwashing, American citizens can only see what the upper class wants them to see, only willing to see what they want to see,
even if the city building is price-tagged for outsiders,
these Americans who have long accepted the spirit of "the sanctity of private property," "freedom and democracy," "resist nanny-state governments" might very well acquiesce, acknowledging that rich people are more qualified than them to live in safe city buildings.
They won’t ponder why the American authorities don’t formulate policies to protect the poor as much as possible,
but ponder how to make themselves rich, how to make themselves qualified to live in city buildings.
The American government doesn’t have the power to force, assign citizens to do anything, thus citizens also have no reason to force, assign the government to do anything,
they think and believe this way.
Therefore, Ryu stoked the fire again.
She released the news of the American-held The Portal World.
This Information Broker coldly watched the city below,
protesters gradually gathered along the streets, heading towards the city buildings, directly confronting the police and military forces enforcing martial law.
Conflict was inevitable,
the protest team, like a thick human wall,
collided with the spiked barricades set by the police force.
Those American citizens wearing masks and sunglasses, holding the Stars and Stripes, fiercely shook the spike barricades, shouted loudly at the police officers prepared behind the barricades.
"I’ve worked diligently for the United States for 40 years! Paid taxes for 40 years! Why won’t you tell us the truth!"
"I’m a veteran retired from the Afghanistan Battlefield! I lost a leg, disfigured, and was awarded a national honor medal for the United States! Look at how they treat me!"
"The government obviously has an entire new world available for immigration! Why won’t you tell us! Why won’t you let us migrate!"
"You love America, does America love you?!"
The intense argument echoes above Seattle and almost every American city.
Ryu tilted her head, as one of the world’s top Information Brokers,
she had her own information channels.
After many turns, she finally found intelligence on The Portal World from America’s most confidential military bases and research facilities.
In the last Portal World contest, David, as a member of the Supernatural Accident Place under the Federal Bureau of Investigation, finally received a Portal World as a reward.
The Portal World in his hands, although unlike those of earlier people, an entire colonization star with favorable environment, abundant resources can be easily modified to migrate populations at will,
However, in theory, it could still accommodate a population of 500 million,
and ensure that all residents live with dignity, have enough to eat and wear, without suffering from hunger or cold, maintaining the same living standard as before the Games of Death began.
The United States government has consistently concealed this information,
partly because they don’t want to expose the information about The Portal World in their hands, allowing other organizations to assess its value,
and partly because they don’t want the public to know.
First, the player selection rate of The Portal World is only 12% that of the real world,
collective relocation would mean losing potential for the future.
Secondly, the survival space in David’s The Portal World is relatively limited, with the ideal population model being fifty million.
Fifty million scientists, engineers, soldiers.
This doesn’t leave much room for ordinary citizens (especially those with lower levels of education).
Moreover, Earth’s factories, armament factories, military bases, and financial institutions cannot be left without sufficient personnel to maintain them,
collective relocation would be equivalent to a semi-permanent abandonment of global dominance.
Besides, there are various other reasons,
such as a faction within the United States’ hidden echelon hoping to take this opportunity to make the American population more... pure.
Eliminating some people of color.
For example, they have already developed relatively efficient, boundlessly potential cloning technology,
to provide more outstanding colonial talents for the new world behind The Portal in the future,
without needing these "defective products" from Earth.
The Broker integrated all the confidential information and selectively released it after the Games of Death game version update.
The desperate American public, feeling abandoned and deceived,
under the push of the Broker and some well-intentioned individuals, took to the streets to protest and demonstrate.
They came from all directions, crowding beneath city buildings,
shaking the barricades desperately,
howling and roaring at the police dressed in riot gear, holding assault rifles (loaded with rubber bullets).
Bang!
Finally, a gunshot broke the critical point of the protest.
No one knows who fired first,
or what compelled them to shoot,
after the gunshot, the sound of guns echoed throughout the city in waves.
Years of gun proliferation,
along with the encouragement from private arms dealers like the Broker,
have allowed ordinary citizens to wield firepower no less than the military,
they fired at towering city buildings, at stores that had long closed on the roadside, at fully armed police and military.
The conflict erupted,
and the usual invincible rubber bullets, tear gas, and high-pressure water cannons proved useless against the citizens whose equipment had been entirely upgraded—they wore full-body coveralls,
some people even brought single-person mechas produced by the European Heavy Industry Group,
blocking the rain of rubber bullets fired by machine guns.
"It’s almost like a carnival."
The Broker casually put down their legs resting on the windowsill, bent their body, climbed out of the window, and stood on the narrow ledge.
Just as the information brokers had assessed,
the conflict did not show a one-sided tendency.
The well-trained, well-equipped American police and military,
faced protesters whose equipment was also upgraded, holding numerous heavy weapons,
among them are citizens who had consumed genetic elixirs, temporarily gaining extraordinary powers.
Gunfire, explosions, roars, wails.
The protest site, which was relatively orderly just a moment ago, turned into a battlefield,
the blood from countless people blended together, flowing into the sewers on both sides of the streets.
"Tonight, and for the next three days, people will die worldwide, many, many people will die."
The Broker silently assessed, stepping onto the hotel rooftop.
The wave of conflict sweeping across the United States,
successfully diverted the attention of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Supernatural Accident Place and other intelligence agencies,
all surveillance satellites were closely monitoring the conflict site,
the vast majority of American Transcendents were urgently deployed, sent to critical locations to protect national interests.
No one noticed as the Broker pulled out a uniquely shaped heavy sniper rifle from the void.
[Name: Fixed Gun of Revenge]
[Type: Weapon/Consumable]
[Quality: Perfect]
[Attack Power: High]
[Special Effect: Fires demon-busting bullets that are untraceable, unstoppable, and indefensible at enemies with whom the user has a vendetta]
[Consumption: 500 Spirit Energy Value]
[Cooldown: None]
[Usage Condition: Level 25 or higher]
[Note: Multiple demon-busting bullets can be fired simultaneously, power depends on the spirit energy value invested. Bullets are formless and incorporeal; the farther the distance, the higher the flight speed]
[Note: The user must clearly know the location of all enemy targets. After shooting, the Fixed Gun of Revenge will automatically destroy itself]
[Note: The noblest revenge is forgiveness. But unfortunately, I do not wish to be noble]
This sniper rifle is entirely black, with a silencer at the muzzle that is exceedingly cumbersome.
The Broker took a deep breath, retrieving a list and several photographs from the void.
The paper of the list was crumpled, appearing to be over a dozen years old,
filled with many names,
most of which had been crossed out, the remaining ones were current high-level figures in the United States.
And those photographs were also of the "survivors" from the list.
The Broker silently positioned the sniper rifle on their shoulder, placing it at the edge of the rooftop,
their thoughts surged and roiled.
They remembered their deceased family, recalled the influential people who caused their home to be broken, and thought back on the injustices they had suffered over the years.
After years of operations, long-term planning, finally, an opportunity had come,
an opportunity when all the United States’ top figures had taken refuge in underground bunkers due to the sudden nationwide protest wave.
"...Wish me luck."
The Broker slowly exhaled a breath of impure air, gave one last glance at the photos, and resolutely pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The muzzle of the heavy sniper rifle erupted with a flash of crimson flame, and over a dozen formless and incorporeal bullets shot from the muzzle, speeding to all corners of the United States from the center point of the Chicago Hotel Rooftop.
Revenge, at this moment.
