When Kirov, the ship's mother, enters the game world through a different virtual game capsule, her first impression is that it is real, extremely real.

Unlike Thunder World, which only allows players to have an interactive interface in the virtual world, this virtual world called StarCraft: Successor from the Stars is a real world.

The faint smell of gunpowder smoke mixed with an inexplicable sour smell, the friction and touch of the heavily polluted air accompanied by the breeze on the face, and even the fine dust in the air are simulated and real.

If it weren't for the fact that Kirov was sure that she had entered the game through a virtual game pod, she would have even thought that she had arrived somewhere in the real world.

Of course, in the real world, there are no ruined cities like this that can only be seen in science fiction.

Looking at the wreckage of the skyscraper in the distance, Kirov could guess at a glance that the skyscraper would have been at least a thousand meters tall if it had not been cut off.

The wreckage of the skyscraper is surrounded by a number of buildings in similar condition, with strange purple-red formations attached to them.

Looking back from the vista to the side, you can see that the ground is littered with all kinds of wreckage and limbs, from unknown beasts to humans in strange armor.

There were also tanks that were close to ten meters high, and fighters that fell nearby and had only a section of the tail left.

Kirov is certain that this kind of thing does not appear in the real world, at least not the armor that should be prepared for interstellar warfare at a glance.

Kirov, who had read some historical posts, knew that during the time when the ship mother first appeared, because the transformation core had not yet been discovered, human scientists also studied equipping the ship mother with high-tech armor.

But that kind of armor adheres to the characteristics of not hindering the combat effectiveness of the ship mother itself, so it is all very exquisite, and the role is more than protection is to allow the ship mother to achieve smooth communication and protection of key positions in the case of deep-sea breath interference.

The armor worn by these wrecks is so thick that it would turn into a humanoid tank.

And judging from the wreckage of these armor, although they are about to turn into humanoid tanks, they are not much use in the face of these beasts.

There are very few dents in the armor worn by the torn limbs, which shows that these beasts are very clean and neat to tear apart the heavily armored humans.

When Kirov sighed at the realism of this virtual world and was accustomed to analyzing information from as far as his eyes could see, the sound of leather boots came from far and near.

"What are you doing? Staff sergeant! A hint of doubtful reproach reached Kirov's ears, and when she came back to her senses, she saw a small destroyer woman standing in front of her with a pile of familiar weapons.

Compared with the familiar weapons in the other party's hands, the clothes worn by the destroyer mother made Kirov stunned.

Only in the deepest part of her memory, the military uniform that belonged to the memories carried by the ship's uniform.

"Commissar?" Kirov shouted hesitantly, and for a moment she was caught in the entanglement of whether to salute the ship's mother or use the Red Army salute, although the difference between the two was not very big.

"Comrade?" Hearing Kirov call herself like this, the destroyer lady was stunned for a moment, threw the weapon in her hand to the ground, and then leaned over to Kirov's side, looked at her badge, nodded, and ordered:

"Comrade Kirov, welcome to the battlefield, now gather your soldiers, distribute these weapons, your task is to hold this place!"

"...... this?" Kirov, who heard the destroyer in front of him wearing the military uniform of the commissar raise his weapon, and looked down at the so-called weapon, was surprised.

"A modified version of a special Kalashnikov automatic rifle, our most reliable comrade-in-arms, pick her up, comrade, and fight for victory." The little political commissar said with a proud expression.

"AKM ......" Kirov, who is the mother of the Mao ship, naturally has this weapon in her memory, but it's not a joke to fight aliens on the battlefield of aliens with this weapon.

If the enemy is this group of monsters who tear a few meters of metal by hand, no matter how trustworthy the AKM is, it is useless.

Kirov for a moment had the same feeling as rushing to the MG42 machine gun position with five bullets.

"Not satisfied? It doesn't matter, if you survive the first attack and kill enough enemies to earn Battlefield Points, you can exchange them for more and stronger weapons from HQ, but for now...... Take your weapons and don't disgrace the Motherland! Moscow is always behind you! ”

The little commissar took a part-time job as a game commentator.

"The ...... of the motherland" didn't expect that the little political commissar in front of him, who was the same Mao ship mother as himself, would be so natural when he mentioned the motherland, and Kirov couldn't help but be stunned in place.

Because for most Mao's ship mothers, the motherland is a topic that they will never want to mention.

"Prime Minister Romanov and General Kukov are watching you, recreate the Soviet victory in Europa on this pale planet." After saying a bunch of incomprehensible words to Kirov, the little commissar suddenly remembered something, took out a small tin can from his chest, threw it over, and said:

"But compared to those righteous and awe-inspiring words, I think this is what you need most, come on, comrade!"

With that, the little commissar strode towards another place.

Kirov, who was stunned, subconsciously took the tin can handed over by the little political commissar, and only after the other party walked away did she remember to unscrew the screw cap of the tin can.

Suddenly, a familiar scent entered Kirov's nose and rushed to his brain, instantly making the hairy ship mother enter a state of frenzy.

"There is no coolant with added fuel!! Am I dreaming? If it's a dream, I don't want to wake up!! ”

Kirov pinched her arm filled with fuelless coolant and trembled slightly, and under the repeated battle between heaven and man, she raised her head and poured a whole mouthful, the familiar smell made the face of this hairy ship instantly turn red.

"It's forbidden outside...... Kirov burst into tears.

Because too much intake of non-fuel coolant will cause great damage to the ship's equipment, this kind of thing is forbidden to be sold to the ship's mother.

This prohibition of sale specifically refers to the hairy shipwives who regard coolant as the root of their lives, and the shipwives of other nationalities drink coolant like swill, but the hairy shipwives can't stop this taste.

Since many Mao-based ship-on-girls were banned by legislation because of excessive ingestion of this fuel-free coolant that caused the ship's equipment to disintegrate, it is difficult for Mao-based shipwives to buy a drop even if they have money, and they can only drink those alcoholic fuels with vodka-flavored fuel to get too dry.

Kirov, who carefully slipped the remaining coolant into his pocket, decided to support the game even if it wasn't fun.

Even though he knew that the world was virtual, this feeling of drinking coolant made Kirov prefer to believe that the world was real.

When the team members who entered the game with Kirov found their captain, they only saw their captain sitting next to a pile of assault rifles, looking happy.

It scared these shipwives who had always regarded Captain Kirov as an idol. (To be continued.) )