Although Young Master Cao claimed that this thing couldn't replace actual training,
in reality...
it could.
Because the average soldier only trained for about... an hour or two a day!
The body needed rest too.
Practicing once in the morning and once in the afternoon was already enough.
But gaming was different—it belonged to the realm of the mind. Most people could easily play for four or five hours without issue.
Those with stronger mental endurance could play even longer.
Even if the feedback from each session was minimal, the sheer duration made up for it.
Moreover,
training in a virtual battlefield was worlds apart from drilling in the usual military training grounds.
One was routine practice.
The other was life-and-death combat.
How could they be the same?
...
However,
Young Master Cao had never served in the military in either of his lifetimes, so he had no idea what actual soldier training looked like.
He just instinctively assumed that since the game only provided 20% feedback, it couldn’t compare to the full physical feedback of real-world training.
That’s why he had said those things to his father-in-law.
This was just a blind spot in his knowledge.
No big deal.
Once this technology was handed over to professionals, they’d naturally figure out how to maximize its benefits.
Right now, the priority was just to accompany his father-in-law for a round of gaming.
Though Cao Cheng had never been a soldier, never enlisted, and never undergone systematic training,
his physical prowess was undeniable.
And this time, they were connected to the network—
the internal network.
Many people were already using it, including security and bodyguards who had their own helmets as part of the beta testing.
So after Cao Cheng and his father-in-law logged in, they only had to wait a few minutes before matching with seventy or eighty players, supplemented by a few dozen AI soldiers.
Then the slaughter began.
From boarding the plane to parachuting...
Speaking of parachuting, this virtual jump wasn’t like in regular games—there was no forced parachute deployment.
If you were skilled enough, you could push the limits, opening your chute at just 100 meters—basically gambling with your life.
And if you forgot to pull the cord?
Splat. Meat paste.
But you know what?
His father-in-law seemed to have some real skills.
Though Cao Cheng didn’t see how the old man fought, the match ended in about thirty minutes, and his father-in-law logged off too.
He ranked in the top ten.
Cao Cheng, of course, took the chicken dinner.
The moment his father-in-law removed his helmet, his first words were:
"What an exhilarating battle. It’s been years since I last held a gun or experienced such intense combat."
"What place did you get?" Cao Cheng asked.
"Seventh!" His father-in-law didn’t hide it.
Cao Cheng was surprised. "Not bad, old man. I never expected those creaky bones of yours to—"
Before he could finish, his father-in-law flew into a rage and kicked out—still thinking he was in the virtual game—only to nearly throw out his back.
They scrambled to steady him.
Cao Cheng chuckled. "This is reality, old timer. Take it easy. Even though you’ve been consuming those body-enhancing supplements, age is still a factor."
His father-in-law shot him a glare but reluctantly sat down, sighing. "I really am getting old. But in that virtual game, for a moment, I felt young again. It was wonderful."
Still curious, Cao Cheng pressed, "This match had only a few bots—most players were bodyguards and security personnel, battle-hardened veterans. How’d you manage seventh place?"
"None of your business!" His father-in-law side-eyed him, tone sharp.
"How many kills did you get?"
"Still none of your business!" His father-in-law huffed.
Cao Cheng suddenly understood. "Don’t tell me you just crawled to the final circle, popped up, and immediately died?"
"..."
His father-in-law clenched his fists.
Silence.
Cao Cheng burst out laughing. "Hahaha! Truly, what an exhilarating battle indeed!"
His father-in-law grabbed a teacup, ready to hurl it at him—this brat was getting more insufferable by the day.
Luckily, the elegant older sister arrived just then, carrying a fresh fruit platter.
As she walked in, she remarked, "I could hear you two from outside. Done with the game? How was it?"
His father-in-law silently set down the teacup, saying nothing.
Cao Cheng, however, grinned.
Another glare from his father-in-law—dark, very dark.
The elegant older sister glanced between them and quickly pieced together what had happened.
Not surprising.
In her eyes, her husband had always been competitive in his youth, but age had tempered that.
And gaming? Who knew how many years it had been since he last played.
Now, suddenly diving into a game—especially one with a helmet, something he’d never even seen before—of course he wouldn’t do well.
Seems like Young Master Cao had been teasing him.
Heh.
She shook her head with a smile. Only Cao Cheng, this fearless brat, would dare. In the entire Tang family—whether it was their own sons, daughters, or relatives’ younger generations—who else would be so bold in front of her husband?
Just Cao Cheng.
She was used to it by now.
His father-in-law snorted. "I was being cautious. In a real battlefield, who runs around recklessly? Besides, it was my first time playing. Caution was necessary—otherwise, how could I have placed seventh?"
"I was up against bodyguards and professional security personnel—a hundred of them! They train daily and have seen real combat. If I hadn’t been careful, could I have ranked seventh?"
Here, his father-in-law even preened a little.
He raised an eyebrow at the elegant older sister, as if asking: Pretty impressive, huh?
She was genuinely surprised. Seventh place?
Even without knowing the game’s rules, ranking seventh out of a hundred was undeniably impressive.
Cao Cheng knew his father-in-law was just saving face. While his reasoning made some sense, it was clearly just pride talking.
A bit childish.
But this time, Young Master Cao held back his laughter. He could afford to give the old man some dignity.
He explained the game to the elegant older sister, including the rules.
Sure enough, when she heard it was a battlefield—real guns, real bullets, a free-for-all in a confined space with a hundred solo players—
the risk factor was undeniably high.
His father-in-law could only bring a fraction of his physical abilities into the game, while facing off against young, battle-tested men. Under those circumstances, seventh place was legitimately impressive.
Seeing the admiration in her eyes, his father-in-law seemed reinvigorated.
He slapped the table.
"Another round!"
Cao Cheng raised an eyebrow. "Aren’t you tired?"
"Tired from this? Hardly! Let’s go again. It’s been too long since I’ve moved like this. And after that match, I actually feel a slight change in my body."
He pointed at the helmet. "Keep this here. I’ll use it occasionally to unwind."
Cao Cheng smiled and shook his head. "No need for the helmet. I’ll get you a top-tier gaming pod instead—way more comfortable."
His father-in-law nodded. "Fine. Consider it your filial duty."
Cao Cheng grinned. "Deal. I’ll get Tang Xin to play too. You two can team up—father and child on the battlefield."
"Hmm..." His father-in-law’s eyes gleamed at the idea.
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
d intelligence to keep the plot moving, and sometimes even the protagonists are forced into absurdly dumb decisions. Why does the A-list celebrity heroine in urban romance novels ditch the top-tier movie star and become a lovestruck fool for a pockmarked male lead? Why do the leads in historical tragedy novels keep dancing between love and death, only for the blind healer to end up suffering the most? And Gu Wei never expected that after finally landing a villain role to stir up trouble, she’d pick the wrong gender! No choice now—she’ll just have to crush the protagonists as a girl!
ive and Ruthless] Before his transmigration, Ye Xuan was playing a game called "Severing Emotions to Attain the Dao." The game's core wasn't about leveling up by fighting monsters, but about conquering various "bad women" with wicked personalities and cold, fickle natures. There was only one method to conquer them: stay unwaveringly by their side, then die at a critical moment, driving them to madness after losing the protagonist. The higher their level of regret, the higher the player's score. To dominate the server, Ye Xuan conquered all the bad women. In the early stages, he showered them with boundless tenderness, only to choose to sacrifice himself for them later, making them weep bitterly and drown in regret. Among them were: Xia Lengyue, the unfaithful immortal wife who chased after powerful men and discarded her husband like trash. Ye Qingcheng, the Demonic Venerable of the Joyous Union Sect, who appeared pure and innocent but was, in reality, promiscuous. Wu Lingxiao, the Empress of the Great Xia Dynasty, who lusted after men and loved maintaining a harem. Bai Qiangu of the Endless Demonic Sect: a bloodthirsty mass murderer. However, when the protagonist transmigrated into the game world, he made a horrifying discovery. Eight hundred years had already passed. The bad women he had conquered had now each become deities and revered ancestors. Faced with the endless stream of toxic women coming for him, Ye Xuan could only rely on his god-tier acting skills to carve a path of survival through this world of treacherous women.
