Chapter Eighteen: Analysis

“Finally, let me share with you one last explosive piece of news: there’s a special reward for surviving to the final hundred. As for what it is, the chief instructor will announce it at the appropriate time—I’ll leave you in suspense for now.”

“All right, we’re here. According to the order I just read, the first ten, disembark.” As the military vehicle came to a stop, the fair-skinned instructor glanced around and spoke.

“Good luck to you all.” After the first ten students had gotten off, the instructor gave a casual wave, and the truck rumbled away, disappearing in a rising cloud of dust.

I was in the second group, and before long, we arrived at our own designated drop-off point.

“Instructor, why are there only two boys in our group?” I hadn’t noticed before, but as soon as we got off, I immediately felt the pressure.

With this many ‘ancestors’ in tow, let alone being the first to find the armory—if we don’t end up getting sabotaged, that would already be a blessing.

The instructor smirked, “Think about it. Your marksmanship is so good—if it were too easy for you, wouldn’t that be unfair to the others? Besides, you can always choose to leave them and go on your own. Anyway, time is short. Good luck.” He waved again, and the vehicle vanished into the dust.

To be honest, though the instructor didn’t mention it, I had indeed considered striking out alone.

But when I turned and saw all those expectant faces, the words stuck in my throat.

“Come on, the closest is Armory One. Let’s hurry and get within range before we fall behind.” Even if I couldn’t bring myself to say I’d abandon my teammates, if they gave up on their own, I wouldn’t persuade them to stay.

Everyone nodded, and I led the group into the mountains.

Truthfully, part of me wished someone would object, so I could become an outstanding lone wolf.

But clearly, that was wishful thinking; perhaps because they knew how good my shooting was, these people figured following me would get them to the end.

“Let’s be clear: my only advantage is marksmanship. Without a gun in hand, we’re all the same. So if you have good ideas or insights, share them and we’ll discuss things together. Since we’re a team, I don’t want any of you eliminated early—at the very least, we should all get to fire a real gun or two, so there’s no regret.”

Since I couldn’t abandon them, I wouldn’t let them think they were just here to pass the time. Only if everyone involved themselves would this be any fun.

A few of the girls, who’d come just to muddle through, found my words reasonable and nodded.

“Let’s introduce ourselves as we walk—it’ll make things easier. My name is Yan Ruyu.”

“Ma Shiba.”

Since I’d introduced myself, the other boy in the group spoke up, too.

“Ma Shiba?” Interesting. I’d come across that name in one of Jin Yong’s novels.

I scrutinized him closely—a face as if chiseled from stone, heavy brows and an icy gaze. From his brief introduction, he seemed somewhat taciturn.

Perhaps it was just his nature. I didn’t dwell on it, as the eight girls had already started giving their names.

After brief introductions, we entered the woods.

We trekked for over half an hour before spotting a tree marked with a red ribbon and the number one—it was only then I realized we’d just reached the border of Armory One’s territory.

Since we had no idea of the armory’s exact location, I suggested we head toward the center—not only because I suspected the armory would be near the middle, but also because if another team found it first, we’d be in the best position to intercept.

The girls had no objections, and Ma Shiba was disinclined to speak, so my suggestion passed easily.

Another half hour of walking, and the girls began to tire. Thankfully, a month of training had toughened their bodies and steeled their resolve; otherwise, complaints would already be flying.

“Everyone, quiet. I think there’s someone ahead.” I stopped the chattering girls and signaled them to squat and hide.

“We’ve been walking so long and still haven’t found the armory. How about we rest for a bit?” The distant voice drifted to us.

So there really were people.

I put my finger to my lips—a gesture for silence. The others, hearing the nearby voices, hid themselves well.

“Let’s stop and rest. We’ve been at this ages and still haven’t seen any sign of the armory. Where could it be hiding?” The leader of the other group, hearing the complaint, decided to call a break.

At this point, I got a clear look at their armor—green, while ours was blue. Obviously, we were opponents.

Their team had six boys and four girls. Looking back at our own two boys and eight girls, I lost all desire for a direct confrontation.

“Everyone, fall back,” I whispered, leading my teammates on a strategic retreat.

“Yan Ruyu, are we just going to run away like this?” one of the girls complained, unhappy with my call.

I wiped my brow—though there was no sweat—and replied, “Did you count? Six boys and four girls on their side, two boys on ours. Do you think the two of us can take on three each, or are you planning to go one-on-one?” My retort silenced her instantly.

“Besides, we’re not retreating—we’re just changing direction. Since they came from that way and haven’t found the armory, and we came from here without success, we should search elsewhere.”

“Most importantly, we can’t let them know their direction leads nowhere.”

“Do you know what our current tactic is called?” I asked the girls.

“Cowardice,” Ma Shiba replied, nearly making me choke.

“Brother, are you saying you could take on four of them and knock them all out?” I shot back.

“Yes!” Ma Shiba answered with such certainty that I simply ignored him. Such mysterious confidence in this boy.

“This is called cautious development. Don’t be reckless. Even if we managed to beat that group, what then? I don’t believe we’d get out unscathed—that’s one. Second, we don’t even have guns yet; if we get bogged down here, what’s the point? Our priority is to find weapons.” My explanation left Ma Shiba without further comment, and the girls seemed to have no other opinions.

Since both our own path and the one the rival team came from yielded nothing, we picked one of the two remaining directions at random.

I didn’t believe our encounter with the other team was mere chance—most likely, everyone was converging toward the center. The location of the armory would soon be revealed.

“Keep talking to a minimum. Other teams are converging on the center, and I believe it won’t be long before someone finds the armory.” Seeing my serious expression, the group quieted down.

Before long, we encountered another group—blue armor, our own side. But since there were no familiar faces, I led my teammates away in a new direction.

“Why don’t we band together? That way, even if we run into the green team, we’ll have nothing to fear,” one of the girls asked softly. The others looked at me, awaiting my answer.

I shook my head. “Now isn’t the time. Let me ask you—what are the conditions for ending this match?”

“In three hours, those holding guns, with only a hundred people remaining.”

“Exactly. So if we all group up and there aren’t enough guns to go around, then what?”

My question left everyone stunned.

“From the start, there’s been no such thing as real teams. The chief instructor’s words were meant to confuse us. By the time people realize this, do you think your back will be safe?”

“But they’re all our classmates. Shouldn’t—”

I cut her off. “Sure, they’re classmates. But there could be people from your own company on the enemy side, too. Would you let yourself be eliminated by them, or would you want to eliminate them? Of course not. This is a competition—a battle game. There are plenty who think like you, but I believe only those who take the game seriously will make it to the end.”

“The rules of this game are that there are no rules. The result is to survive with a gun, as one of the last hundred.”

“Those who are serious will survive to the end; those who aren’t will be eliminated—by their opponents, their teammates, or even by themselves.”

“This contradiction cannot be reconciled, unless you’re willing to forfeit the match. But I’m sorry—I have no intention of giving up.”