I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 253 Snowy Phantom
The old cat was still lying on the cliff. He saw the Bohemian soldiers slowly approaching him from both sides. Their bright blue uniforms were dazzling in the sunlight, even the pine trees couldn't block the light.

At that moment, the old cat's heart suddenly raced, and his breathing became rapid.

This is not fear, but a subconscious bodily reaction. Once the brain senses danger, the old cat's body naturally secretes adrenaline.

This hormone filled him with power; his muscles tensed, and he felt every cell preparing for the upcoming battle. It also made his reactions exceptionally sharp, allowing him to clearly hear his own heartbeat and feel the rhythm of his blood rushing through his veins.

"It's so real..."

Old Cat sincerely praised it. He had played many games, including some AAA single-player games that were praised as "hardcore" stealth games. However, while those virtual experiences were exciting, they ultimately lacked the immersive realism of being there.

In those games, he could easily make the character perform various complex actions with a thought, but there was always a layer between them. He felt that he was commanding the body, rather than controlling it.

This feeling is a bit complicated and convoluted. If I had to make an analogy, it would be like taking a graduation exam with a female teacher wearing a plastic cover.

However, in "Empire", he could truly feel the character's every breath, every heartbeat, and every muscle tension.

He could feel his adrenaline surging through his body, feeling his body preparing for the upcoming battle. This sense of realism made him feel as if he were truly on a dangerous battlefield, rather than controlling a virtual character from a first-person perspective.

This feeling... it's so easy to get hooked on it.

That's why this game is so hardcore and troublesome, and Old Cat never thought of quitting.

There was no time to think too much; the enemy was already close.

Wearing a white cloak and a blue cotton coat, the old cat lay in the snow, letting the snowflakes bury it. It slowly buried its face in the snow, and its breath was deliberately dispersed into spiderweb-like streams that spread to both sides.

As the sound of his boots crunching through the snow grew closer, his breathing became lighter and lighter.

All the other players had already retreated by this time, but Old Cat didn't leave. He even took the risk because he wanted to get closer to observe the enemy and the equipment and training of these Bohemian regular infantry.

Now, the old cat can observe the enemy up close.

Three meters away, the brass-plated boots of Bohemian scouts were grinding through the frozen pine needles; these soldiers in their azure uniforms were clearly specially trained.

They deliberately walked in a zigzag pattern in the snow, with the latter always following in the former's footsteps, their leather boots intentionally light, so that the sound of their footsteps was broken up in the cold wind.

"They're tough enough to handle."

The old cat's eyelashes were frosted, but his pupils were narrowed to slits as he counted the azure blue figures in his field of vision.

The tactical team consisted of twelve men, in a standard three-on-three assault formation. However, the shoes of the soldier on the left side of the third rank were unusual; they were riding boots. In addition, the other soldiers kept glancing at him as they moved... This was an officer disguised as a private.

Old Cat's right ear was pressed against the ground, capturing more details through bone conduction. The landing rhythm of the pair of riding boots on the left side of the third row was different; his forefoot touched the ground first, and his heel deliberately hovered in the air for half a second.

This is a habitual cushioning action developed by cavalry officers over long periods of riding; ordinary people simply cannot imitate it.

Want to take action?

Old Cat pondered. The enemy was very close. He could hear their conversations. Those deep and professional tactical exchanges made Old Cat's nerves even more tense and excited with every syllable.

"The left side is safe."

"Footprints were found on the right side, but they are not very clear and may have been left by the enemy."

"Continue the advance, but remain vigilant."

Old Cat patiently waited for the enemy to pass him, watching them gaze out from the edge of the cliff. His right hand slowly slid to the dagger at his waist, his fingertips gently stroking the anti-slip texture on the hilt.

He could feel his palms sweating slightly, but his hand holding the knife remained as steady as a rock.

However, just as the old cat was about to pounce, he stopped moving and once again turned into a stone statue, lying quietly motionless in the snow pit.

The reason for this was that the old cat saw the things on the waists of those Bohemian soldiers... familiar, long wooden handles, and round heads made of black iron.

Isn't this something built in the border region?

Although there are significant differences in the details, the overall structure is the same.

Old Cat was puzzled. Had the Bohemians copied the player's equipment?

Oh dear, when did this happen?
Is this NPC really that intelligent? It discovers something useful in the neighboring country and immediately starts copying it?
While Old Cat's mind wandered, his hands moved swiftly. He quietly pulled a piece of ice from the snow and flicked it lightly towards the bushes five meters away. The ice shard struck a dry branch with a soft "crack," and the twelve Bohemian soldiers immediately turned their guns.

"Three o'clock!"

The officer, disguised as a private, hissed.

Just as everyone's attention was drawn, Old Cat leaped up silently like a snow leopard, and after running a few quick and silent steps, his dagger precisely pierced the back of the last soldier's neck, severing his nerves with pinpoint accuracy. At the same time, his left hand covered the soldier's mouth and nose.

The soldier only had time to twitch twice before collapsing onto the snow... He wasn't dead yet, but he couldn't move or call out.

Old Cat quickly stripped the soldier of his helmet and put it on, then removed the grenade from his waist and the medals from his shoulders and hung them on himself. He then stuffed the body into the snowdrift. The whole set of movements was smooth and efficient, and the camouflage was completed in less than five seconds.

The clothes didn't matter, because Old Cat was already wearing a Bohemian soldier's uniform and chainmail—camouflage items he'd acquired from the battlefield. They were slightly damaged, but there was no blood on them. He just needed to take off his white cloak, put on the replica grenade and epaulets, and he'd be a Bohemian soldier. "What did you find?"

The officer suddenly turned around and asked, looking at the old cat that was brushing the snow off its body.

The old cat, who was being questioned, lowered the brim of his helmet to cover half of his face and deliberately responded in a muffled Bohemian accent.

"It might be a squirrel, sir."

The officer looked suspiciously at Old Cat, who was even more robust than the average Bohemian soldier. He frowned and was about to speak when a rapid bugle call suddenly came from afar, and everyone immediately went on alert.

"This is a signal from the main force."

The officer took out his pocket watch and glanced at it.

"Damn it, they want us to retreat to the rendezvous point immediately."

Old Cat secretly breathed a sigh of relief and began to retreat with the squad. He deliberately lagged behind, quietly observing the grenades on the soldiers' waists. A closer look confirmed his suspicions.

This is definitely a replica made in the border region, only the wooden handle has been shortened and the fuse device has been simplified.

During the march, Lao Mao noticed a detail: whenever they passed a steep slope, the soldiers would unconsciously protect the grenades on their waists. This subconscious action exposed the flaws of the replica; its fuse might not be stable enough.

The squad arrived at a sheltered mountain hollow, and the officer signaled for them to rest. There, a second search squad was also resting. Old Cat took the opportunity to sidle up to a young soldier from the neighboring squad.

"How good is the new equipment?"

He lowered his voice and asked, pointing to the grenade at the other man's waist.

The soldier gave him a wary look.

Which company are you from?

"Oh, that's my superior officer next door."

The old cat just made things up on the spot.

"The officer asked me to ask the guys in the neighboring unit about their experience using this thing."

This answer seemed to dispel the other party's doubts, and the soldier, when questioned, patted his grenade.

"I've heard that the weapons copied from the Bagnya mountain barbarians are quite powerful, but..."

He looked around and lowered his voice.

"It's easy for the engine to misfire in winter; if snow gets into the lid, the fuse will be difficult to pull."

Old Cat secretly noted down this important information. Just as he was about to continue trying to extract more information, the officer suddenly blew the assembly whistle.

"Attention! Enemy activity detected on the left. They are attempting to bypass our perimeter. The captain orders us to advance in combat formation!"

Old Cat felt a chill; it seemed the other players' detour had been discovered.

Before he could think too much, he deliberately slowed down and lagged behind the team as they began their search. When the team passed through a dense forest, Old Cat suddenly stumbled and fell into a snowdrift.

"What's wrong?"

The soldier in front turned around and asked.

"It's nothing, I just tripped."

Old Cat waved his hand, taking the opportunity to remove the two imitation hand grenades from his waist, unscrew the wooden cap on the handle, and hooked the cable with his index finger.

Just then, a series of gunshots rang out in the distance, and the officer's expression changed drastically.

"That's the direction of the captain's squad. They've been attacked? Brothers, hurry, follow them! We're going full speed ahead to reinforce them!"

The squad immediately turned and ran. When Old Cat, who was still lying in the snow, stood up, he was just a few steps behind the others. When the others couldn't see him, he took the opportunity to raise the two grenades in his hand and sneered.

"Let you taste the treasures you've created."

After saying that, Old Cat forcefully pulled off the two fuses, then gently tossed the grenade behind the running squad. Without looking back, he darted into the nearby coniferous forest and disappeared into a snowdrift he had already found.

A Bohemian soldier running ahead looked back curiously, only to be surprised to find that his comrade who should have been at the back was gone. He was immediately alarmed.

"Someone is missing, someone..."

"Boom boom!!!"

Two explosions rang out, and two blood flowers mixed with blue cloth blossomed on the snow, followed by a chorus of wails.

(End of this chapter)