After some time, the protagonist regained consciousness.
He found himself still in the same room, with the corpse of the mutated creature lying beside him.
But his physical condition had improved significantly. The fever symptoms from the infection had vanished.
A little girl was hiding behind a broken counter nearby, watching him with a mix of curiosity and caution.
The protagonist tried greeting her in several languages and eventually discovered she seemed to understand Chinese, though she couldn't respond verbally.
She pointed to her mouth, then waved her hand.
"Oh, she can't speak… Is she a story character?" Chen Sha muttered with interest.
The story continued.
The protagonist stood up and cautiously approached the girl with a friendly demeanor. After a few interactions, it became clear—she was the one who saved him.
The little girl showed him a strange syringe-like device—clearly a piece of specialized medical equipment from the base, likely used for both extracting and injecting fluids.
The protagonist pieced it together: the girl's blood had cured him of the zombie infection.
She then led him to a nearby laboratory.
The place was in ruins, signs of heavy combat everywhere. The air reeked of chemicals, and the protagonist had to take a gas mask from a nearby soldier's corpse just to enter safely.
From scattered documents and the state of the facility, the protagonist pieced together what had happened:
The little girl had antibodies in her system that made her immune to the virus. Her blood was the cure.
After the outbreak, a mercenary team was sent to escort her out.
However, during the evacuation, they were overwhelmed by zombies. In desperation, the mercenaries released toxic gas to eliminate the horde.
But there were too many. The entire squad perished—either at the hands of the zombies or from the gas.
All the infected (including zombified soldiers) were ultimately killed by the gas.
Equipment and containment failed. The girl escaped.
Due to her natural immunity, the virus and gas had no effect on her—and her blood could reverse infections in others.
However, the cure required specialized syringes like the one she used earlier. Each syringe was single-use and would be destroyed after one application.
And so, the protagonist and the little girl began searching for a way out of the facility together.
From this point on, Chen Sha faced even greater challenges.
The maps became increasingly complex—some required solving environmental puzzles to progress.
The monsters got tougher:
Zombies with special mutations appeared—some incredibly fast, others highly durable, and even some that could turn semi-invisible.
Mercenaries now carried more advanced weaponry, and they began appearing in greater numbers.
Besides fighting enemies, Chen Sha had to meticulously scavenge resources from the map to avoid running out of supplies.
In addition to searching for ammo and medical supplies, the protagonist also had to collect syringes.
The girl's blood didn't grant permanent immunity.
Whenever the protagonist was bitten again, he'd be reinfected—and would need another transfusion.
But without syringes, the girl couldn't help him.
And the girl's role wasn't limited to healing:
Because of her small size, agility, and immunity to toxins and viruses, some puzzle sections required cooperation between her and the protagonist to progress.
Her blood could not only cure infection, but also restore health.
Outside of combat, the girl could help locate hidden collectibles scattered throughout the environment.
The little girl had an uncanny instinct for sensing nearby zombies—if she suddenly hid or ducked behind cover while walking, it meant a fight was about to break out…
During combat, Chen Sha found his emotions getting tangled up with hers.
When they solved a puzzle together using teamwork, he felt proud.
When she got surrounded by zombies, he panicked—desperate to protect her.
And when she looked weak and tired after giving blood, he felt a deep pang of guilt—cursing himself for being careless in battle and forcing her to help.
Without realizing it, Chen Sha was completely hooked.
Technically speaking, Ocean Fortress still fell short in several areas compared to big-budget foreign AAA titles—its visuals, animations, and polish weren't quite there.
But Chen Sha didn't care anymore.
Because what Ocean Fortress offered… was something most foreign titles didn't.
The protagonist wasn't some generic soldier or faceless mercenary—he was a Chinese special forces operative, infiltrating a transnational organization's secret base to uncover the truth.
He spoke multiple languages when needed, but in quiet moments, he muttered to himself in Chinese or gently talked to the little girl in Chinese.
That simple detail gave Chen Sha a strong sense of immersion.
A Chinese protagonist in a story told from a Chinese perspective—something rarely seen.
And the most incredible part?
The fact that this was a domestically made game—and it had pulled off a story mode that was not just functional, but actually good.
Even games like Counter-Terrorism Plan and Bullet Scars had avoided making story modes.
And yet here was Ocean Fortress, a relatively unknown title, boldly diving into narrative content—and actually delivering.
Sure, it wasn't flawless. Compared to ultra-refined story modes from big studios overseas, there were some gaps.
But honestly? The difference wasn't huge.
And when compared to other domestic games?
This was S-tier, way above the curve.
What impressed Chen Sha most was how tight the storytelling was.
The plot wasn't overly complex, but it was compact and purposeful—every piece mattered.
Level design was smart.
Enemy and weapon variety kept things fresh.
Difficulty scaled well throughout the game.
But the real MVP?
The little girl.
She didn't just enhance the story mode—she made it.
Without her, the whole thing would've been just another endless shooter—kill zombies, fight mercs, repeat. No soul, no stakes.
But her presence gave the experience heart.
What would've been just a cold, mechanical shooting gallery became something emotionally engaging.
Because now the player cared.
And when it evokes real feelings, that makes a story mode truly meaningful.
In the final chapter, the protagonist—battered and exhausted—fights his way to the top of the sea fortress, defeats the final mutated boss, and climbs aboard the escape chopper.
Once in the air, he presses the detonator.
A massive mushroom cloud erupts behind them, the explosion rippling across the sea.
The vile virus experiments, grotesque mutations, greedy corporate overlords, and their mercenary enforcers—all buried beneath the ocean.
The protagonist pilots the helicopter, and the camera pans to the cabin.
There, the little girl sleeps peacefully, wrapped in his jacket.
In the glow of the setting sun, with the ocean glinting beneath them and the fortress consumed in fire behind them, the helicopter vanishes into the sky.
Story mode complete.
Credits rolled.
What stunned Chen Sha most?
The team was tiny.
Only around sixty people total.
Of those, only twenty-something were internal developers from Tengda.
The rest were outsourced—handling things like modeling, scripting, voice acting, music, and sound design.
Yet despite that, this small team had produced a story mode that was genuinely memorable.
Looking back, the game hadn't thrown a massive cast of characters at him.
No bloated cutscenes or dramatic speeches.
It had focused on one bond—between a wounded soldier and a voiceless little girl.
And that was enough.
It was a shining example of smart, focused design.
Chen Sha sat there in silence, still stunned.
He had assumed the story mode was just a joke—some misguided feature the devs added for show.
But no.
They meant it.
They had the skills to back it up.
<+>
If you want to see more chapter of this story and don't mind spending $5 monthly to see till the latest chapter, please go to my Patreon[1]
Latest Chapter in Patreon: Chapter 102: A Low-Key Grand Opening[2]
Link to the latest chapter: https://www.patreon.com/posts/129254813?collection=1399284[3]
https://www.patreon.com/collection/1399284?view=expanded[4]
[1] https://www.patreon.com/collection/1399284?view=expanded
[2] https://www.patreon.com/posts/129254813?collection=1399284
[3] https://www.patreon.com/posts/129254813?collection=1399284
[4] https://www.patreon.com/collection/1399284?view=expanded