Under the gray sky, Erangel Island was surging, filled with smoke, and gunshots were heard one after another. Countless creatures struggled hard on this broken land, as if they were on a chessboard woven by fate, and every step was on the edge of a knife.
And in the gap between this hustle and bustle and blood, a bright red KFC appeared. The white words on the sign, like a charming flame, tore through the gray sky and stood quietly on the wind-eroded gas station wall. Its existence, like an inexplicable prophecy, announced a kind of inappropriate tenderness.
Players approached one after another, footsteps echoed on the abandoned concrete ground, and the blue light of the ordering machine shone in the dark. The moment the interactive button was pressed, the game nickname popped up on the screen, followed by a seemingly ordinary fried chicken meal, but it carried a heavy meaning.
This meal is not just a supply prop. The bucket of golden chicken legs is integrated with the first aid kit. When the character uses it, the action is so delicate that it is almost ritualistic. He slowly bites off a chicken leg, as if to warn the world: in survival, we still need to know how to taste. French fries are given the identity of bandages, and drinks are transformed into a source of energy. There is indescribable warmth and cruelty in the symbols intertwined with virtuality and reality.
The rhythm of the game is like an invisible reincarnation. Each player can only order once in each KFC until the fourth stage. This is not only a rule, but also a reminder. The waiting and restrictions, like the ups and downs of life, teach people to be moderate and cherish. In addition to charging into battle, you must learn to wait for that moment of peace.
Not only Erangel, but also the desert sands of Miramar, Sanhok, and Vikendi are full of this strange existence. Even on the plane flying to the battlefield, the KFC banner flutters like a flag, telling a call across boundaries.
This is a reflection of reality and the boundary of dreams. The players’ eyes switched between gunfire and silence. They controlled the characters with their cold fingertips, but in the action of gnawing on the chicken legs, there was a hint of human warmth. Perhaps this fried chicken is the softest thought in their hearts, a silent expectation.
In this virtual world full of holes, life is impermanent and victory and defeat are nothing. Only this hot “fried chicken” reminds them: you are still alive and still have the right to enjoy your own warmth.
And that warmth is like a fire sleeping in the depths of time, burning silently, waiting to be ignited.