A red reticle appeared on the screen. A mouse cursor—Binh’s cursor—drifted over the middle figure. A tooltip popped up. Wounded soldier. Can be saved.

Binh pushed away from the desk. The cracked CD case was empty. The disc was gone. But the CD-ROM drive was still spinning, clicking, grinding—even though there was no disc inside.

The third option—the dark one—was glowing brighter.

Duc grabbed Binh’s shoulder. “Shut it down. Force quit.”

A menu spiraled open. Options like “Use Bandage,” “Drag to Safety,” and a third, darker option: “Abandon.”

But Anh Ba was gone. The counter was empty. The only sounds were the buzzing fluorescents and the low growl of the engine fans.

“That’s not the game,” Duc said, his throat dry.

He was waiting for the download to finish.

“Finally got it,” Binh whispered, his eyes reflecting the loading bar that was frozen at 87%. “Tai xuong mien phi.” Free download.

The loading bar hit 100%. The screen flickered.

Duc, Minh, and little Tuan pulled up plastic stools. The promise was legendary. Not the boring, generic strategy games, but this . A game where you crawled through the mud of the A Shau Valley, where one bullet killed, and where the jungle wasn't just scenery—it was a hungry animal.