After Zuo Yu went offline, Fang Zhao dragged a wooden crate over and sat quietly for a minute, at the same time exchanging his credits for a number of bullets.
What made it better than reality was that everyone in the game had a "bag," and a few small items could be placed inside, including ammunition and food.
Fang Zhao gave a silent laugh.
If only reality was similar to the game. Back then, there would not have been so many casualties.
The game was but a game, not the actual period.
Fang Zhao knew that this was not the world he'd once had, it was just a virtual and incomplete replica. Even though the context was just a game, it was too realistic. The surroundings, even the scents in the air, all of it stirred up Fang Zhao's pent-up emotions that he had suppressed for so long. It was as if, in the depths of his soul, a storm had started to rage.
