Chapter 83: Tower Defense Game? Utterly Vulnerable

Lin Mu stopped the car as soon as he heard the voice. By now, he was starting to suspect that some sort of game would always unfold like this. Individuals and teams, after all, were not the same. In front of him, there was no “leave team” button, but instead a teleportation button with a five-minute countdown. He’d also just received a private message from the chubby guy: leave the team.

He wasn’t the least bit worried about these people leaving. The moment someone quit, death was certain.

Zhang Qian stared at the exit button in front of him, swallowing hard. If he pressed it, he’d be free. But… Glancing at his empty backpack, he hesitated. Only a fool would choose to leave when the outside world was so perilous.

When the time was up, the button before Lin Mu lit up on its own, without waiting for him to press it. The corners of Lin Mu’s mouth twitched—so, this was a forced game, was it? A flash of light, and when he appeared again, the green mist was gone. The convoy now stood within a walled enclosure.

At the center of the enclosure was a pile of basic resources: iron ingots, silver ingots, copper ingots, timber… each in quantities exceeding ten thousand.

Lin Mu sighed. What use did he have for these things? He looked up. Overhead, a three-minute countdown ticked steadily downward.

So, what exactly was a “defense battle”?

In the final minute, Lin Mu more or less understood. The enclosing walls slowly descended, revealing four highways leading into the central circle.

“Captain, what should we do?” Zhang Qian asked.

“Arm yourselves and defend. Since it’s called a defense battle, we’ll likely be attacked by creatures.”

Surveying the scene, Lin Mu thought of the tower defense games on his phone. If all four roads led to a single point, wasn’t this a three-dimensional live-action version of Plants vs. Zombies?

He quickly manufactured a stack of AK-47s and tens of thousands of rounds, distributing them among the group. Then he crafted four towed cannons. Though these were modular equipment, they were area-effect modules, meaning the higher your vehicle’s level, the wider the range of deployment.

Lin Mu’s vehicle had a coverage radius of twenty meters, enough to accommodate eight of these cannons—a fact he had just discovered. The only explanation was his shelter mode. After all, at the very beginning, the mysterious voice had said that all abilities could be used.

The shelter mode, previously gray, now glowed green.

“Well then, let’s see what this so-called shelter mode can do.” He initiated the transformation.

Lin Mu’s vehicle began to change. The four wheels disappeared, and the entire vehicle expanded, its size matching the inner space. It transformed into a three-story metal house, measuring 12.8 meters by 7 meters. Mounted atop the roof was a medium-sized machine gun; sixteen floodlights lined the third-floor eaves. Four cannons were installed at the front, back, and each side of the house. As for the collector, longsword, and other tools, they remained concealed in a different dimension.

Zhang Qian stared at Lin Mu’s vehicle in amazement. Smack! He slapped himself hard. “Ouch!” This was supposed to be a road survival game. How had it turned into a metal fortress? Were they even playing the same game?

Lin Mu’s cockpit became more advanced, the windshield replaced by a curved display that offered a panoramic view of the surroundings. All controls were linked directly to Lin Mu’s thoughts. Wherever he wanted to look, he could—though only within a fifty-meter range. But that hardly mattered.

He crafted four surveillance cameras and placed them at the four corners of the rooftop, further expanding his field of vision. He was sure his view was the best among all players in this game.

Just as he finished, the countdown ended. The numbers on the display turned to text—[Round One: Gray Wolves (100) 1/5]

A hundred of them? Five rounds? Ten vehicles—ten wolves per person?

Lin Mu rubbed his chin. If that was the case, it seemed he might not even need to step in. But was it really going to be that easy?

He picked up the radio. “Two vehicles per approach, with one left in reserve for backup.”

“Copy that!”

“Copy!”

Who dared slack off? No one. The threat was very real.

Far down the four highways, a deep, mysterious portal appeared, from which burly gray wolves emerged, sprinting forward.

Watching the split-screen display, Lin Mu saw it wasn’t too difficult. Each pair of wolves advanced in tandem, maintaining a distance of seven or eight meters from the next pair.

This should be a walk in the park, he thought.

As the wolves approached, gunfire erupted—rat-tat-tat! Against modern firearms, these gray wolves stood no chance.

[Round One: 9:58 (2/5)]

The display switched back to a countdown.

They even gave a rest period—how considerate.

“Report your remaining ammunition. Does anyone need resupply?”

The first wave hadn’t consumed much ammo, so there was no need for replenishment.

…

Meanwhile, the entire planet had been divided by barriers into countless small sectors. Some contained entire convoys; others, just a single vehicle.

In the sector next to Lin Mu’s, there was a lone car. Such a single vehicle would face only one road and a total of five wolves, a far easier situation than for a convoy. Some teams had deliberately sent out members alone, hoping to secure more resources. Unfortunately, things hadn’t gone as they’d hoped.

The second, third, and fourth waves ended.

[Round One: Gray Wolves (500) 5/5]

This was Lin Mu’s situation. Despite the increased numbers, the challenge remained simple. Even when facing twenty-five wolves at once on a single road, they were still no match for modern weapons.

For those alone, though, facing five at a time, the difficulty was much greater.

After this round, who knew how many had died?

At the end of the first round, a countdown appeared, granting a three-hour rest.

Lin Mu rubbed his chin. Each round took about four hours—so, six rounds in total?

He opened the regional chat. The message box was awash with red text—urgent messages flooding in faster than he could scroll.

He glanced at the player count.

[Zone 62]—108,000 people.

Lin Mu’s mouth twitched; in just one hour, nearly twenty thousand had vanished.

Ruthless!

But… there were bound to be those who hoped the number would dwindle even further.

With every death, the resource numbers here grew. The figures were all over the place.

10,876—this was now the highest number among the basic resources. Items like electronic components, rubber, and glass ranged from 500 to 800.

Four hours later, the second round began.

When the new creatures appeared, the people below were stunned. Would guns still work against these?

Lava creatures!

Mithril weapons were their bane, but firearms were not.