Reborn in 1937: I Turned the System Over to the Nation

A mushroom cloud shot straight into the heavens!

A sniper rifle cracked. He lunged toward the flash of red amid the ruins, using his own flesh and blood to shield the little girl. As he lay dying, this street thug from the real world turned to the livestream camera and asked one final question: “Guys, was that move just now... cool?” In an instant, the whole internet broke down in tears! The comments froze as millions of viewers frantically sent him gifts: “In our next life, let’s still be Chinese!”

This isn’t a movie. When an esports nerd suddenly “dies” in the real world and wakes up screaming, “Did the tank blow up?” When a food streamer tearfully swallows a moldy flatbread and cries, “This tastes better than Michelin-starred food,” only then does everyone understand: this is more than a game. It’s an emotional bond that transcends time and space.

And I, code-named Chen Mo, a special forces king whose identity is shrouded in mystery, became the only instructor these people had in Nanjing in 1937. I taught them how to trade their lives for their enemies’, how to tear open an enemy’s throat with their teeth, all so they could hold out one more second on this hellish battlefield.

When a thousand new players came raining down from the sky like shooting stars, everyone thought they had seen hope. But what I smelled was the sweet, garlicky scent that meant death.

“Gas masks!” I roared in despair over the all-channel comms.

Behind me were a thousand “new recruits” who still had no idea what was going on.

Before us, the Japanese army was silently releasing a cloud of mustard gas...