[Transmigration + Alternate History + Dark Comedy]
My name is Lao Tie. That's right, I'm a rifle. A professional shit-talker, and a lifetime honorary member at that.
One second, I was in the creaking, muddy wasteland of Ukraine, listening to Katyusha rockets sing me a duet. Those shells hit the ground with a thump-thump that had more rhythm than my grandpa's snoring. The next second, someone had dug me out of the dirt, and there was this ridiculously handsome young guy in front of me. He called riding a horse “piloting a Gundam,” and called my cold lump of iron “a divine weapon from the heavens.”
The kid's name was Zhao Yun. He looked upright and honorable, had his head full of benevolence and morality, and gazed at me with eyes as bright as searchlights. He was practically ready to kowtow.
I thought, what kind of bullshit is this? A divine weapon? Buddy, I'm just a killing tool straight off the assembly line. My only superpower is that ammo is free and I have a bottomless supply. And so, a sweet, naive classical hero paired up with a modern old-timer like me, who can't stop saying, “Oh, screw it, let's just get this done.” Our careers kicked off in the chaotic Three Kingdoms era, and things got wild fast.
They all say Zhao Zilong charged in and out seven times at Changban Slope, in Yichang, Hubei. They call it a legend. Bullshit! The two of us just absolutely demolished the KDA! But the more we killed, the more I realized something was wrong.
I watched these idiots throw away their lives for that vague “greater good,” rushing forward like moths to a flame, one after another. I watched that kid Zhao Yun, covered in blood but still with a light in his eyes, fiercely protecting the crying baby in his arms as he charged again and again. That
Yes, the writing is simple and emotional, and it is very comfortable to read.
This idea is ok, a little passionate, and not lacking in romanticism