Chapter 1452 - 473: I’m a Professional Commentator, and a Professional Commentator Must Dare to Make Judgments

Chapter 1452: Chapter 473: I’m a Professional Commentator, and a Professional Commentator Must Dare to Make Judgments

At dusk, the sky gradually darkened, a round of crimson setting sun slowly pierced into the body of the Titan Giant Beast, fresh red wounds gushed forth boiling blood, emitting a tidal roar akin to the beast’s wails, wave after wave, until the greedy darkness completely licked the sun’s blood clean, all returned to silence, leaving only faint starlight scattered down.

A halo hidden in the darkness slowly moved, only by staring intently could one barely make out its faint refractive effect on the starlight, as if a barely visible veil was floating in the air.

With a ripple-like wrinkle, a finger emerged from the veil, but soon retracted.

"Pull your damn hand back, stop fooling around here, if the enemy radar discovers us, I tell you, get ready to be chased by me and the whole server."

The Mongolian Toplaner’s hand, reaching out from the edge of the optical camouflage, was forcibly pulled back by the Swordfish, he said sheepishly,

"I’m just curious, really can’t be seen from outside if we’re hiding in here?"

The two of them were currently standing on top of an electromagnetic cannon, this cannon was welded on the deck, as high as twelve or thirteen meters, the top was just a little over a meter from the optical veil, standing on it stretching out a hand slightly could go outside.

The Mongolian Toplaner said sheepishly,

"I wasn’t bored, just trying casually."

Then he shifted the topic, asking,

"How far is this from the Hood? Surely that guy didn’t run away?"

The Swordfish sat on the barrel, blowing the sea breeze, pointed at the small map for the Mongolian Toplaner to see,

"Not yet, isn’t it still lit on the small map, still in Bermuda, probably another hundred kilometers, and we’ll bring that guy into range."

"By the way, can you really do it? We only have one chance to shoot, if you miss even a little, we’ll all go down together."

The players wouldn’t naively believe there was really only one Hood out there maintaining, surely there were a large number of escort ships hidden around.

If discovered, definitely would be concentrated fired upon, in the same scale situation, the Polaris’s force field shield couldn’t withstand other escort ships’ main gun shots, if hit by one or two, they’d all go down with the ship to feed microorganisms.

"I’ve never shot a cannon, how would I know? I’m a virgin, are you satisfied? Damn it."

The Mongolian Toplaner swore while jumping down from the barrel,

"This thing’s aiming mechanism isn’t the same as a cannon at all, no genius could hit the mark first time with this, that’s cheating, not shooting."

Despite speaking so, his hand on the barrel kept exploring, his tone deepened,

"I never thought, having never been a soldier, I could play with an electromagnetic cannon, the closest I got to one before was watching a Railgun sister’s MAD on my uncle’s website."

"This game...is remarkable..."

The Mongolian Toplaner was full of emotion, feeling that the moment he was selected was perhaps the biggest stroke of luck in his life.

This game caused a global storm in reality, now everyone knows, this game can’t be made with current human technology, countries argue fiercely, the capital is as lively as the United Nations holding conferences every day, the conference hall’s threshold is nearly worn down.

If not knowing this isn’t something that could be seized by force, the Third World War might have started over the ownership of this black helmet.

Out of more than seven billion people worldwide, only two thousand were selected, and he just happened to be one, the chances like winning five million in the lottery.

The Mongolian Toplaner looked up at the Swordfish,

"Have you ever thought why we can enter this game? Logically speaking, the place is in California, wouldn’t Americans be more familiar?"

"Or maybe Europeans, Africans, Russians or something... Surely it’s not really like those guys chanting in churches say, we were chosen by Jesus or something?"

"Hmm...."

The Swordfish thought for a moment, looking at the already risen moon on the horizon, said,

"I think... maybe it’s because we’re good people."

The Mongolian Toplaner showed an expression of disbelief, how could the reason be so strange, sure it’s not just putting a flattering spin on it?

Seeing he didn’t believe, the Swordfish spoke out his long-held speculation,

"I used to follow residents around in Night City, you should know how bad that place used to be, before I wouldn’t even dare to think about it, I never thought a society could rot to this extent."

"Things you only saw in history books and news happened alive right before you, it’s really distressing, I’ve seen residents more than once secretly cry in corners, no matter how hard they tried, it was useless, there were always endless patients, poor people, and the streets full of drug addicts, gangs who could cause trouble at any time, the whole city was numb, indifferent, and collapsing.... Night City felt like a big grindstone."

"The same is true for both the upper and lower levels, everyone is being driven into the grind until all flesh is completely drained, leaving only residue to be discarded, in the end, only this city itself being nourished."

The Swordfish took a deep breath then shook his head, he had so much to say, but couldn’t organize words to describe such a sense of despair regarding the whole societal system, those seemingly lofty rich people, what about high-level officials?

One wrong move and everything goes down, ending as a nameless corpse in the sewers, seemingly elegant and luxurious, yet walking a narrow plank that could collapse anytime.