HOT NOVEL UPDATES



Hint: To Play after pausing the player, use this button

CHAPTER 13 
SHINC Runs 
Almost one hour had passed since the start of SJ2. 
As she sprinted along, silenced P90 in her hand, Llenn learned from her watch’s vibration that there were just thirty seconds to go until two o’clock. She craned her neck as she ran, looking for the nearest place to hide. 
“Found it!” 
There was a small divot in the ground that any regular person would not fit inside, but Llenn hit the deck and did a feetfirst baseball slide. The friction of the soft dirt slowed her down until she fit perfectly into the space. 
If she craned her neck up to look around, she could see the top of the dome, the upper part of the hilly area, and the snowy mountain, all at about the same distance from her. There were no humans around, including Fukaziroh. 
“It’s time, Llenn. Are you ready?” said her partner’s voice in her ear. 
“I’m good. I found a spot to hide. We’re sticking to the plan!” Llenn replied. Then she repeated, “We’re sticking to the plan.” 
The sixth scan arrived at two PM. 
“Whoo-hoo! We survived a full hour!” 
“Yeaaaaah!” 
“Bravo!” 
“Hell yeah! Oh, hell yeah!” 
“Yes, we can!” 
The five members of the All-Japan Machine-Gun Lovers cheered and roared. They had barely moved from their starting location in the hills. The first battle had taught them that they didn’t need to abandon an advantageous position. 
In the last hour, they’d stayed at the top of a hill with excellent vantage. When they saw an enemy team approaching, they backed up a bit. 
“Not yet, not yet…,” they urged, making use of what little patience they had. “Almost there… Almost there…” 
They waited until the enemy crested the hill and came into view, then started down the other side. 
“Now! Fiiire!” 
“Whoooo!” “Yahoooo!” “Ryaaaa!” 
They leaned into it and unleashed a long-distance machine-gun assault from their useful spot. Since these were machine guns rather than precision sniper rifles, it took a lot of bullets to finish off an enemy team. 
But in addition to plenty of bullets, they were also equipped with spare barrels to counteract the issues of overheating and friction. They knew as well as anyone that a machine gun without ammo and spare barrels was useless. 
They’d blast the enemy squad to smithereens, then wait again. Another enemy, blast, wait—for an entire hour. They had beaten three teams, which was an unfathomable leap after their last result. 
Now the sixth scan was coming in. It was a very slow one from the north again. 
They hunkered down in the cramped spot atop the hill like they’d done all the other times, watching their device screens closely to check out their surroundings. 
The northern edge of the hilly area was their current location. The massive wall loomed behind them, blocking all passage in that direction. Since no enemies would come from there, they only had to watch in three directions. 
They peered at their screens, looking for the closest squad. 
“Huh? What is this…? Is this a mistake?” 
There was one team listed north of them. If they touched the dot, it displayed the name T-S. But that was completely impossible. 
“Man, I think this scan is busted.” 
“Yeah. There’s no way that’s true.” 
There were two reasons they could be certain of this. 
For one, the giant fortress wall was north of them, and the five hundred feet of space in between was a gentle slope, of which they could see the entire length. If someone was approaching the spot on the scan, the guys would have to see them, unless they were dealing with the Invisible Man. Some turned to the north to check, just in case. No one was there. 
The other reason was that the team named T-S had been in the far northwest during the last scan—in the middle of the town. It was at least three miles from there to this spot. So they ran through the neighborhood and over the hills at over eighteen miles an hour without being seen? It was impossible. 
“What the hell is this? A system error in the middle of a competition? Talk about a motivation killer!” groaned the guy with the Minimi. 
The one with the M60E3 said, “The server’s a computer, too, so it’s not perfect. You know how a machine gun will break down unless you give it enough TLC? That’s why I sleep with a model M60E3 air gun at home. I put it on the chair next to me at breakfast, and it watches movies at my side on the couch” without any apparent hint of irony. 
“Oh, cool!” “That makes sense.” “I admire that.” “Nice one.” 
It was the kind of team that would accept that as an answer. 
“For the other survivors… MMTM’s on the north side of the dome. That’s about a mile and a quarter away. They’re coming this way leaving the dome. That’ll be our next contact. The others are too far,” reported the one with the M240B. 
“The third-place powerhouse from the last time… Can we even beat them?” wondered the man holding the Israeli Negev machine gun. 
“We’re fine!” replied the FN MAG user with supreme confidence. “We studied the footage of the last one, right? The HK21 machine gun is scary, but that’s the only 7 mm gun. The others are just 5.56 mm assault rifles. In open terrain like this, we’ve got an overwhelming firepower advantage!” 
As his teammates murmured in impressed agreement, he continued, “We’re gonna protect this spot and be winners! Shoot us with your arrows and cannons if you must!” 
Just at that moment, red glowing damage effects appeared on his back, legs, shoulders, and head. 
“Hebwoebe?” he said—a word that did not appear in any dictionary in the world—and died. 
The other four didn’t have the time to process why it had happened, either. 
They, too, took a cavalcade of bullets to the back, losing massive chunks of HP until they died, one by one. 
“Huh? Wait—what—?” stammered the last one, with the Negev. At the time he was eliminated from SJ2, only twenty seconds had passed since the first shot. 
The All-Japan Machine-Gun Lovers were out. 
The scan was still ongoing, so the surviving teams were watching the screen as the white dot turned to gray. 
“Huh? Wow, the machine-gun dorks just got wiped out,” one of the MMTM members noted with annoyance. 
The team was checking on the scan from the transition into the slopes of the hilly area, keeping an eye on the horizon in the meanwhile. The hills to the north featured team T-S closing in on ZEMAL, so they were clearly the culprits. 
“How did those idiots not notice someone right behind them…? Just when they lasted long enough that we were going to grace them with our attention.” 
“At that close of a distance, wouldn’t they have already been in combat when the scan started? And maybe it just wrapped up now.” 
“Or was it…a mutual alliance that broke down in betrayal?” 
Each member had his own ideas and questions, but it was the leader with the STM-556 who figured out the trick. 
“Nope. You’re all wrong.” 
“Aw, geez.” 
The audience in the bar was well aware of what the trick was already. 
The T-S versus ZEMAL battle scene—more of a massacre, really—played out in its entirety for them starting at two o’clock on the dot. 
There were no system errors in Squad Jam. The six members of T-S were indeed just five hundred feet to the north of ZEMAL. But none of the five Machine-Gun Lovers realized something very crucial: that the scan did not account for height. 
On the screens in the bar, the camera looked downward from an incredibly high angle, taller than even the walls. Atop said walls was a concrete walkway about five yards across, with walls around three feet tall to protect against falling off. 
And there were six people pointing just their gun muzzles over that wall and firing down at a distance of five hundred feet and a height of two hundred feet. 
They were sci-fi soldiers. 
They wore dull-gray armor made of unknown material all over their bodies, without a single square inch of exposed skin. They were completely armored from head to torso to thigh to shin to toe, even on all their joints. 
And on their off hands, they each equipped a shield, a rectangular armored plate fixed to their upper arm. That way, they naturally covered their hearts whenever they aimed their guns. 
Of course, they also wore what looked like space helmets. They had tough face guards that covered their cheeks, and goggles as well, so there was no way to make out their faces. It was as close as you could get in GGO to being perfect future soldiers. 
In order to tell themselves apart aside from size, each one had numbers in a special font on the back of the helmet and the shield, from 001 to 006. The matching logo on the rear of each helmet was an orca whale bursting out of the water, sharp teeth exposed. 
Normally, they used optical guns, but in this case, they were making a rare exception for live-ammo guns. Even then, they had chosen ones with the most futuristic looks. 
The machine gunner had a 5.56 mm HK GR9. It was known for having a very rounded design, even down to the scope. 
Four had Steyr AUGs and SAR 21s. These were both bullpup assault rifles, meaning that the magazines were located behind the grip. That made the overall length of the gun shorter than usual, but the empty cartridges also flew right past the shooter’s face, so in order to properly use it, you had to prop it on your left side to fire. 
One had the HK XM8, an assault rifle that never left the prototype stage. It had a very curved silhouette, too, almost like a fish. 
While they were all decked out in wild sci-fi gear, the actual abilities and overall power of the team itself were nothing to write home about. 
In fact, they had lost to another no-name team in the preliminary round but won a spot in the loser’s bracket. They had lost because the other team took advantage of their weakness: Their heavy gear kept their defensive levels high but made their movement very slow. 
But one of the six had pointed to the walls right at the start of the game and had said, “Hey! Do you think…there’s a place where you can climb up there?” and that had changed their fate. 
“Y’know, if you look at the map, the walls are just barely inside the lines…” 
“Since the first ten minutes are the easiest, why don’t we spend the time looking for a place to go up?” 
“Sounds good!” 
So they stuck to the wall and continued investigating near it… 
“Found it…” 
…until they found a hidden door. One of the members pressing around on it saw part of the concrete-like wall open up. It was impossible to see from a distance, but once close enough, you could tell that there was a slight gap. It seemed there was a similar entrance about every hundred yards or so along the structure. 
On the inside was a small, dimly lit room with a spiral staircase that led upward. Obviously, they wanted to keep going as far as they could, and they climbed until they reached the top of the wall. At two hundred feet up, they had an excellent vantage point. 
“Whatta view, whatta view!” exclaimed one of the team members in the manner of the notorious thief Ishikawa Goemon as he looked out on the dome, fields, and town. 
“Hang on a second! The game designers aren’t doing their jobs!” yelled another one, staring at the other side of the wall. 
They all agreed that it was an affront to their sensibilities. Outside of the specially designated map was nothing but clouds and space of the same color, both above and below. In other words, on the assumption that none of the SJ2 players would actually see it, they didn’t bother to add any graphics outside of the walls. 
But why could they reach the top of the wall, then? Was there some kind of communication lapse between the map designer who placed the stairs and the design chief? 
No, they must have assumed that no one would be stupid enough to actually climb up there! 
No, they decided that this surreal sight was a prize for the person who was bold enough to reach this place! 
Their debate took them to all kinds of places that had nothing to do with the actual SJ2 happening around them. 
“Hey! We’re not just playin’ around here, people!” They realized this as the first Satellite Scan approached. They’d climbed to the top of the wall, but what now? 
From up above, they could shoot downward, but only if their targets were within their effective range of four hundred yards. Were they going to have foes coming into that very convenient circle at regular intervals? 
They were split between wanting to go back down and fight in the normal terrain and wanting to stay up there to shoot whomever they could, then wait until the numbers were thinned out to go back down. 
The “Let’s Go Down” faction argued that moving atop the castle wall involved too much distance and effort. The “Let’s Keep Going” faction had noticed something, however. 
It was a distant game item. Through binoculars, they discovered six bicycles, arranged to facilitate speedier movement atop the walls. That convinced the “Let’s Go Down” faction. 
They chose to move around atop the walls, striking and escaping from danger. They made for a rather surreal sight: all sci-fi space battle armor and exotic guns, riding around on typical neighborhood bikes along an extremely tall fortress wall. 
For a while, they had no enemies to shoot and simply enjoyed a breezy bicycle ride with breathtaking views, until finally, they had the All-Japan Machine-Gun Lovers in their sights. They won their first fight with a one-sided attack just an hour past the start of the event. 
“They went on top of the wall. They were in the northwest corner ten minutes ago, so they must have some way of moving around real fast. The machine gunners didn’t know that, and they got ambushed from behind,” said MMTM’s team leader. His members nodded along. 
Jake, the one with the HK21, said, “They’d be a bad team to square off with then, yeah? Once they duck, there’s no way to aim at them from below.” 
It was a good question. The leader patted his grenade launcher. 
“So we attack from above.” 
 
Back at exactly two o’clock. 
“Checking the scanner!” Llenn called out, staring at the screen as she hid in the hollow. 
Elsewhere, Fukaziroh, Boss’s team, Pitohui’s team, and every other living thing focused on the sixth Satellite Scan. 
Even the patrons at the bar. 
The scan scrolled down slowly from the north, first showing T-S and ZEMAL—and the destruction of the latter. 
With the scene itself on display in the bar, some lamented the loss of the Machine-Gun Lovers, who had put up quite a good fight by their standards. 
“Awww.” 
“Darn…” 
“They really did their best.” 
The results of the scan continued to develop on a map screen on the monitors. SJ2 was heading toward its final act. The only teams left at this point were either very tough or very lucky, or even both. 
After this scan, each team would actively and forcefully proceed toward its closest opponent to engage in battle. There was little reason left to wait. The fighting would get fiercer and, like the last Squad Jam, should probably wrap up within about thirty minutes. 
Thus, in order to follow the remaining teams and their locations, the audience in the bar studied the scan just as hard as the players in the event did. 
As the scan moved south, powerhouse MMTM showed up at the start of the hilly area, more than a mile south of T-S. Since there was no other battle happening, the screen showed them, zooming in on the smile of their leader, who was patting his STM-556 grenade launcher. 
“Looks like MMTM’s locked on to the sci-fi boys.” 
“We’ll see who’s on top: the guys with more skill or the ones who are literally on top…,” murmured the spectators. 
Llenn’s team, LF, was next. They were about a mile-plus to the northeast (upper right) of the dome. On the screen, a tiny girl in pink huddled in a dip in the ground, watching her terminal. 
“Hmm… They went way northeast after leaving the dome… They tryin’ not to hit PM4?” someone wondered. Of course, no one had an answer. The camera pulled out slowly, making Llenn appear smaller and smaller. It was just damp ground without any grass around her and no other players. 
“How come the grenade-launcher girl isn’t nearby?” someone asked out loud. Again, no one could answer. 
The scan crept south across the map, until another dot appeared another mile-plus to the east of Llenn. The screens in the bar automatically showed the team name, so they knew it was KKHC. The dot was still moving, running to the northeast in the direction of the snowy mountain. 
The monitor promptly switched to show a green-haired girl wearing a camo jacket with a realistic tree pattern. The camera angle showed only her back and head, from a close angle. 
The shape of a black, crude rifle was visible behind her. 
“Oh! The girl who survived didn’t resign yet!” 
“The Blaser R93 Tactical 2? That’s a pretty neat gun to use.” 
“Go on! Get your revenge!” 
The audience could keenly remember how the rest of her team had been slaughtered, which invested them in her struggle. 
“Yeah, but what can she do on her own…?” 
“Plus…she’s running in the opposite direction, isn’t she?” someone else noted. They couldn’t see her feet, but the changing scenery behind her made it clear that she was running straight up the mountain, pushing farther away from any other team. 
“She’s gonna run and hide until there’s just one other team left. Then she can snipe from the mountaintop.” 
“I guess. There’s not much else you can do with just one member.” 
Farther south, the scan showed the location of PM4—the team with M, the four masked men, and that dangerous woman. They were over a mile to the east of the dome, right around the entrance of the valley between the two mountains, north and south. It was a good two miles from Llenn’s location. 
Then the image switched to the team of six from overhead. Short grass covered the ground. It was the greenest place on the map, excluding the jungle inside the dome. Little brooks caused swampy marshes here and there, like a natural park. It would have been beautiful if they weren’t reflecting a dull, reddish sky. 
There was one building among all the green. It was a two-story log house about twenty-five feet tall and over one hundred and fifty feet across. Literal log houses couldn’t get all that big in construction, but this was a big one. It was very well preserved for a GGO building, with glass windows that were actually still intact. The exterior was rather fashionable, like a fancy hotel. 
The four masked men were about a thousand feet away from the log house. They were spaced thirty feet apart, down at the edge of the brush, watching the vicinity and ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. 
The short one with the bizarre UTS-15 shotgun looked through a large pair of binoculars. 
The tall and thin one who acted as a mule stood to the left of the large fellow with the MG 3 machine gun, ready to feed the gun its linked-belt ammo. 
In the middle of them all was M, watching his device in a crouch. 
The M107A1 antimateriel rifle that had wreaked such havoc earlier was placed before him next to the M14 EBR. He could pick up either one if needed. 
The five men were wearing camo, so they were extremely hard to see among all the green. 
As for the woman, she was facing the other way behind M, still dressed in all her gear with her KTR-09, pressed flat against the grass. The huge backpack stuffed with M’s bulletproof shield was placed in front of her. 
Her right hand was on the grip, her index finger extended, but the gun’s safety selector was disengaged for automatic fire. She was ready for battle. Her expression was fierce. 
“Oh? I figured that chick would be kicking back in confidence… I didn’t expect this,” said someone in the bar. 
But another person said, “She knows the remaining teams are all tough cookies. She can’t be lazy. A single stray bullet can kill you in this game.” 
“Good point. The mighty can’t afford to let their guard down.” 
Six squads were left, and the last one to appear was SHINC. They were in a field to the southeast of the dome. It was about a mile or so to the southwest from M on a straight line. The area around them was all fields with long sight lines, but even the M107A1 couldn’t cover that kind of distance. 
The screen switched to the women. The Amazons had flattened down in the middle of the field in an outward circle to prepare for the scan, so they could see around them. 
From the prior scan, they knew it was unlikely there would be any foes to their south or west, but they were smart enough to stay ready. 
“Those girls had the truck last time around for speedy travel. They must be ready for enemy teams to do the same this time.” 
“Don’t act like that was some impressive nugget of knowledge. We all knew that.” 
“Well, it reminded me that we haven’t seen any vehicles this time.” 
“Good point. Either they haven’t shown up, or nobody’s spotted them yet.” 
“What do you mean? You didn’t see those eco-friendly bicycles?” 
“Do those count?” 
On the monitor, Boss was glaring at the map in a crouch. Her brow furrowed as she frowned, then furrowed even deeper. Her face shot up. 
That glare was trained on PM4’s location. A wide-open space of farmland. 
The slow scan finally came to a finish, and the dots vanished, both on the devices and in the bar. For the next nine minutes, the only way to detect enemy location was by the naked eye. The tactical decisions of where to go and what to do were up to the squads now. 
The patrons at the pub had their fun offering predictions, but as the battle royale approached the climax, everyone was in agreement. 
They all thought that MMTM’s excellent teamwork and their leader’s grenade launcher would easily help them beat the team atop the wall, T-S. 
Llenn was avoiding a battle with PM4, so she would keep moving until the next scan. Since their team was just a duo, they would wait for the bigger squads to become fatigued and lose members. 
The lone member of KKHC would keep running and not engage in any more battle. She would wait for the very last team before she found an opportunity to snipe. 
SHINC and PM4 were going to clash in an open space at this rate. But they were both smart, so they would avoid going into the open, and they’d try to flank the other instead. 
And none of the audience members had the slightest inkling that all those expectations would fail to come true. 
 
After a full minute, the scan was over at last. 
“Let’s do this, everyone! Get your heads in the game!” shouted Boss, tucking her device into her left shirt pocket. 
“Daaa!” said Tohma, the black-haired beanie wearer with the Dragunov sniper rifle. 
“Ushh!” grunted the red-haired, freckled mama with the PKM machine gun. 
“Let’s go!” yelled Sophie the dwarf, prepping her ammo box nearby. 
“Yes, Boss!” said the blond Anna, the other Dragunov sniper. 
“Uh-huh!” murmured Tanya, the silver-haired fox with the Bizon. 
Boss hoisted her silent Vintorez sniper rifle and said, “Okay! Target PM4! Commence Operation Snacks!” 
In the bar, they saw SHINC start marching. 
The six women put distance between one another and began to walk or trot at a decent clip. Rosa with her PKM was in the center with Sophie at her side, then the two snipers on either side of them, then Boss in the middle, then Tanya at the rear. 
They knew their foe was far off, so they didn’t split into two teams, so one could move while the other took point. All six were moving as one. Toward… 
“Huh?” 
“Oh!” 
Based on the locations of the dome and the snowy mountain on the screen, it was most definitely in the direction of PM4, their biggest enemy. They were heading straight across flat, clear land, with no cover or obstacles. 

“What?! What are they thinking?” 
“Aren’t they just asking to be shot?” the crowd wondered. 
They were a mile apart at the moment, but it hardly seemed like a good idea to approach head-on this way. PM4 had an M107A1 with an effective range of nearly a mile, and once they were in range of the Savage 110 BA, they would be sniped to oblivion. 
“What’s up with them?” 
“Are they just giving up?” 
But then someone figured it out. 
“No! The Amazons don’t realize that PM4 has some ultra-long-range sniper rifles! They’re probably more cautious of M’s M14 EBR and his fancy shield, right?” 
“Oh, good point! We only know about that stuff because we’ve been watching the stream.” 
“So they’re probably thinking they’re safe as long as they only approach to 7.62 mm range—about half a mile!” 
While the rest of the audience seemed to find this understandable, only one person pointed out, “Hey, even that doesn’t work for them! They’ll get shot either way!” 
2:03 PM. 
“Here they come,” M announced. 
He stood up at his full, considerable height, staring through the binoculars, facing southwest. In the middle of the circle, he saw enemy soldiers marching toward them. 
“That’s Team SHINC, the Amazons. One PKM, two Dragunovs, one Vintorez, one Bizon. The last one is machine-gun support, perhaps? She’s not carrying anything. Distance, one mile. Approaching directly on foot.” 
The heavyset sniper facing the other direction with the Savage 110 BA said, “So they’re coming for us. Nothing on this side, I’ll go join you.” 
He began crawling across the grass, black sniper rifle in one hand. The large man with the MG 3 machine gun stayed in position but swiveled his muzzle in the other direction. 
Only the small man with the UTS-15 shotgun and the tall courier stayed looking the other way. They both used binoculars to keep an eye out for attacks from the rear. 
“We don’t know how they’ll attack, but we should strike at as long a range as we can. I’ll use the M107A1 from behind the shield. I’ll get it ready now, but wait until they’re within fourteen hundred yards, just in case,” M said. 
“What do I get to do, then?” asked Pitohui, who was watching their flank from beside the backpack. 
He said, “Stay back and find a dip where you can watch our rear and sides.” 
“Awww! I don’t get to shoot the Barrett? Please, please, pleeease?” she whined. 
“These aren’t easy pickings. Do you think you’re a better sniper than me?” he asked without mercy. 
“Tsk,” she snapped, shrugging. “Oh well. Guess I’ll reserve my stamina for Llenn, then.” 
Ultimately, she withdrew, like he’d ordered. 
In the bar, the monitor switched to PM4 getting ready for action. Pitohui left the side of M’s backpack and headed for a lower spot on the flatland so she could watch their rear. 
Then M opened the top of the backpack. 
“Here we go! It’s shield time!” 
He pulled out an object that looked like a connected stack of tiles. Each piece was about twenty inches tall and twelve inches wide. He spread them apart to form a horizontal line of eight slabs. With links connected on the top and bottom, they fanned out into a crescent-angled wall that was twenty inches tall and nearly eight feet across. 
This was the iron wall M had employed behind the waterfall and the same one Pitohui had used at the foot of the mountain against the group of team leaders—and now M would be using it again. 
“That thing’s…just not fair.” 
“Did you mean to say ‘That thing’s gonna be mine someday’?” 
“Yeah, I might have,” admitted the onlooker with all honesty. 
“Enemy sighted! M’s shield! One mile ahead! One building’s worth to the left of the log house!” said Anna, looking through her binoculars as she marched, Dragunov over her back. 
“No one stop! Keep moving as though you’re not aware of them!” Boss commanded immediately. “Anna, give me as much detail as you can.” 
“Roger that. M’s got the shield set up on the plain facing us. There’s a guy next to him, the fat one with the mask and goggles. He’s got a black sniper rifle—never seen its shape before.” 
“He’s spreading out the shield?” Boss asked again, surprised. 
“Absolutely,” Anna said. 
“I can confirm,” said Tohma, the other sniper. 
Boss’s expression grew dark as she walked. “Why…? They’ve still got a mile. Why would he…?” she asked herself. 
Kana, the vice-captain of the gymnastics team who controlled Sophie, agreed with her. “It’s too early, Boss.” 
“Exactly… The effective range of M’s gun should be half a mile. It doesn’t make sense that he’d get set up so early, just because he’s ready for us…” 
“Right. If they stayed down, we wouldn’t have seen them. But setting up the shield is a dead giveaway.” 
“Which leaves…just one possibility,” Boss concluded, arriving at the answer by the process of elimination. She told her squadmates, “M’s team has a gun that can shoot farther than half a mile!” 
“They’ve probably noticed us now,” said the chubby sniper. On the right edge of M’s shield, he had the Savage 110 BA set up on a bipod. 
While he wasn’t quite as well guarded as M, who had the M107A1 set up in the middle, over half his body was protected by the shield. He pressed his masked cheek to the stock and looked through the scope with a goggle-protected eye. 
M opened the caps on either side of the M107A1’s scope, set the magnification to full, and lay prone. “Not a problem. We’ll just keep shooting at them to minimize their number. They might open the machine guns on us. If you see the line, get to cover.” 
“Roger. But let’s wipe them out before it comes to that!” 
“Exactly.” 
The two men saw the enlarged terrain through their scopes. Beyond the fields, six women approached on foot. The chubby sniper read off the distance from his scope’s internal sensor. 
“Sixteen hundred–plus yards to go.” 
“A little more than sixteen hundred yards,” read Anna. 
The six members of SHINC pressed onward. 
“It’s probably a 12.7 mm antimateriel rifle they’ll use. This is close enough, so the fact they’re not firing means they’re waiting for us to get close enough to hit reliably. At the very least, they’re going to shoot before we get to our range of half a mile. I just don’t know if it’s going to be eleven hundred yards or thirteen hundred,” Boss said tensely to six sets of ears. 
“M will fire on us without a line. Be cautious!” she ordered, but no amount of caution could protect against a sniper without a bullet line. The only thing you could do was use your sixth sense and feel for someone breathing down your neck. 
“It’s a bit farther than expected, but we’re going to carry out the anti-shield plan anyway! Get prepared for the order! Tohma, Sophie, Tanya, it’s on you!” 
The three murmured acknowledgment in unison. 
“They’re gonna clash now. This should be good…” 
“Who do you think will win?” 
The audience at the pub was raring for another battle already. Since nothing else was apparently happening, all the in-game cameras were capturing PM4 and SHINC from different angles. 
It was a mystery that the imminent MMTM versus T-S battle wasn’t happening, but the audience didn’t seem that bothered; they were more excited about a clash between two titans. 
PM4 set up their perimeter and waited. Protected by the shield in the grass, they had two long-range sniper rifles: M’s M107A1 and the other man’s Savage 110 BA. There was also a 7.62 mm MG 3 machine gun for support. 
And toward that buzz saw walked SHINC, the team of Amazons. 
“Which side will win? M’s side, obviously! Those women are going to get blasted from a distance, and that’ll be it! Just like the team leaders from that alliance! And if they shoot back, everything will get deflected by that huge shield!” 
“But even if they can’t see the bullet lines, they can still avoid the sniping with that kind of distance, right? I mean, if it takes two full seconds for the bullet to arrive, who cares if it’s within range? They know where the opponent is, so there’s no way they’ll just let themselves get picked off.” 
The crowd was split on who they thought stood a better chance. 
“Can they shoot M while he’s behind his shield, staying mobile and out of harm’s way the whole time? Even if they move to his side, there’s still the rest of his team. So they might put up a good fight, but they’re all going to get shot in the end, I bet.” 
Nobody was able to argue against that logic. 
“Distance, fourteen hundred yards,” reported the chubby man. 
“We’re going to start soon,” M replied. 
Through their max-zoom scopes, they had a clear view of six women walking across a dead farm field. All they needed to do was pull upward a little bit to account for distance, then pull the trigger. 
“Behind them?” M asked. 
“No hostiles as far as I can see,” reported the small man, who was on his belly, peering through binoculars. 
“This is all you guys. Wrap this thing up quick,” added Pitohui, who sounded bored. 
“Okay.” M put every ounce of his concentration into the circular world of the scope. He put his whole mind into his dominant eye, keeping his left eye open all the while. 
Six women in the distance. Some were so burly and imposing that they didn’t look particularly feminine, but they were all women. The first step was deciding which person in the horizontal line to shoot first. Then they had to compare answers, to make sure they didn’t both shoot the same target. 
The chubby guy with the Savage 110 BA was an excellent sniper in GGO, but he had no practical experience with real guns. He couldn’t hit a target at this range without the help of the bullet circle. 
So it would be best for him to generate the circle, and thus the line, at the same moment as M’s first shot. M calculated quickly. It would take two seconds for an M107A1 bullet to reach a target at thirteen hundred yards. 
There was a fraction of a second between contact with the trigger and the visual generation of the bullet circle. If it worked well, he might be able to fire before the opponent took the hit. 
He didn’t know how quickly the enemy side would react to one of their number getting shot, but if it wasn’t lightning quick, he should be able to land a shot. 
“Okay. I’ll take the leader. The tough-looking one with the braids and the Vintorez. When I shoot, you take the blond sniper with the shades on the right end.” 
“The blond one. Got it.” 
Satisfied, M stared at the menacing face of the woman with pigtails. Her mouth was moving, saying something. 
“They should be just about to try us…,” Boss muttered. 
“I’m ready whenever you want,” said Tanya from the back. She had stopped watching behind them and was now up closer to Boss. 
The members of SHINC walked onward, their faces resolute. Bullet lines could appear from behind that shield at any point in the next two or three minutes. In fact, the bullets themselves might simply come roaring at them without warning. 
They had to withstand that fear and keep walking as though unaware of the enemy. 
“Well done. Here we go! Don’t forget, ‘three seconds’ and ‘two seconds’! Now charge!” yelled Boss. 
The order reached six sets of ears. 
Six pairs of feet moved as one. 
First was Tanya in the back, Bizon in her hands, silver hair swaying as she began to sprint. In no time at all, she had flown past the rest to take the lead. 
“Yahooooo!” 
A character with max agility running at full speed in GGO was beyond the limits of the human body. Tanya wasn’t as swift as Llenn, but she was the fastest on this team. Her feet kicked up little clouds of dust as they pounded the dry field. The brown clouds floated upward as she charged at the enemy. 
Tanya wasn’t the only one running, of course. 
The other five began sprinting, too, to keep the gap from growing. But they, on the other hand, were zigzagging, changing directions every few seconds to keep from being easy targets. 
This change was apparent through the rifle scopes. 
“M!” 
“Yeah, I see it… Shit!” M swore, a rarity for him. 
They were just getting ready to fire on their walking targets, when they got the jump, two seconds early. 
“Their leader has good battle instincts. Change targets. I’ll get the little one in the lead. Take whichever one in the back you want. When they get in range, I want machine guns to hold them off. Only at minimal ammo cost. Continue checking the rear.” 
“Roger!” “Roger!” “Roger!” “Roger!” “Okeydoke.” 
M fired the M107A1 while his teammates checked in. It was still quite loud, even with the silencer on. The gas exhaust from either side of the muzzle swept the nearby grass aside. 
The 12.7 mm bullet gently arced toward Tanya and roared past her right side by a foot, after she had abruptly changed directions. 
“Yeow! I saw it! That was scary!” Tanya yelped, the shock wave fresh on her cheek. “If that one hit me, I’d be even smaller right now!” 
“It’s started!” 
“She dodged it!” 
The audience members in the bar clutched their mugs so hard, they could’ve broken the glass. 
One screen displayed an image of M firing his gun from behind the shield. 
The other featured small Tanya, just barely dodging out of the way. 
“About eleven hundred yards away, I think? How close can they get while avoiding shots?” 
“Why, you…” 
The chubby guy with the Savage 110 BA kept it darting back and forth in his aiming position. Every three seconds, the women he could see through the scope switched direction. Since they were very far away, it didn’t take much fine movement to cover the shift, but it was hard to keep his aim steady. 
He could see the bullet circle, because his finger was resting on the trigger. All he had to do was put it on one of the women at the right time for the shot to land. 
“Tch!” 
But they could see his bullet line, bright and red, so they could dodge it. Still, he had to shoot them to keep them away. Even if it didn’t land, as long as it forced them to keep their distance, that was a win. 
The Savage 110 BA roared. A .338 Lapua Magnum rocketed forward, sending up concentric shock waves. 
“Whoa!” 
It passed right before Tohma’s eyes—she had stopped when she saw the line. She spun around, Dragunov in both hands. “I’m not done yet!” 
She resumed charging toward the enemy without firing. 
They had practiced how to lead an assault on the position of an enemy sniper with good visibility. Using real bullets, firing at one another. The trick they had learned? “Move the same way for at least three seconds; get shot. Stop for at least two seconds; get shot.” 
“One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi,” Tohma counted to herself as she ran, then abruptly changed direction. It was a quick, sharp shift, one she’d practiced while doing gymnastics training in the simulation. 
A bullet passed through empty space. 
“Damn! This is pretty tough, M. They cut really sharp,” complained the chubby man, loading his next shot with the bolt handle. 
M fired at Tanya and missed for the third time. “So it seems,” he agreed. Then he ordered, “Change of plans. Alter the independent shooting. Use your line to freeze them, and I’ll pick them off when they pause.” 
It was the technique they’d used earlier to defeat the pack of squad leaders. Of course, the one shooting the M107A1 at that point had been Pitohui, who ranted, “Let me shoot the Barrett, lemme lemme lemme lemme lemme—or I’ll shoot you!” 
The chubby guy said, “Roger that! Start with the blondie!” 
He trained his aim on the beautiful blond woman running along the right edge. 
“Under a thousand yards! Almost there!” shouted Boss as she ran. 
Running without a moment’s rest, while constantly changing direction, was a mentally exhausting task, but if she stopped, she’d get shot. One hit from an antimateriel rifle meant instant death. 
If they didn’t get just a bit farther, to half a mile, their shots would never reach. 
Just seventy-five more yards… Now sixty… 
At that moment, a bullet line intersected with Anna, who was running on their left flank. From behind her, Boss could see the line and watched Anna dodge out of the way. 
The bullet rushed forward, erasing the line as it went, and hit nothing but the ground, right as Anna smiled at her successful evasion. “Ha-ha!” 
The next moment, although she was still smiling, her body flew backward and out of sight. 
“Shit!” Boss swore. 
“Nice one!” cheered the chubby sniper. 
“She’s down!” yelled the crowd in the bar, all at the exact same moment. 
As Boss ran, she let her eyes drift up to the corner, so she could see the HP bars of her teammates. Anna’s plunged to the left until it hit zero. 
“Damn! Anna’s dead!” 
Boss and the other four kept running, unable to even look back to confirm her death. They ran and wove and bobbed. 
Then Tohma called out, “We can still make it! Let’s go! Anna bought us time!” 
That was all that Boss needed to make up her mind. “Okay! Let’s do it!” 
With 930 yards to go, the five initiated their plan. 
“Which one next?” 
The bullet-line feint had worked, and M picked off the blond sniper. The chubby man put a new magazine in his gun and looked back, full of anticipation. 
“Next is… No. Wait,” M cautioned. 
Then the other man saw it. The women who had been running desperately toward them just moments ago abruptly came to a stop, then dropped flat on the ground. Given how level the ground was, they were practically invisible at that angle. 
He squinted through the scope, but the best he could see was the tip of a helmet above the curve of the earth. It was hard enough to know if he could actually hit that kind of target from this distance, and they could see his line, so it was just a matter of rolling out of the way. 
“Distance of nine hundred and thirty-five yards,” said the large man with the MG 3 machine gun, reading it off the distance measurement of his binoculars. 
“How come…?” the chubby man wondered. That distance had to be farther than the effective range of the other team’s guns. Why would they stop like that, when they could have charged even closer? Because one of them was dead? 
No, if they were going to stop because a single member had died, they wouldn’t have charged like that to begin with. They should be pushing forward, even with greater casualties at risk. 
“I can’t figure out what they’re thinking, M,” he admitted. It was beyond his mind’s capability. A good player knew not to lie and pretend he understood just because it would make himself look better. 
“I don’t get it, either. Just don’t get careless,” M said, equally honest. 
At the bar, the audience was similarly dumbstruck. 
“Why’d they just come to a stop? You oughtta keep going, even if you lose more members, right?” 
“Okay! Let’s do it!” ordered Boss to the rest of SHINC—the only people who actually knew the answer to these questions. 
Sophie, the squat, heavyset dwarf, waved her left hand in the air with her head pressed to the dirt. “I’m ready!” 
An item window that only she could see appeared, from which she quickly selected what she wanted to materialize, and she hit the OK button. 
Meanwhile, Tohma, the black-haired sniper, crawled up behind Sophie. She did her best army crawl over the dirt. The Dragunov caught on the ground along the way, and she left it at her side. 
“Here I am!” she told Sophie. Light began to bead together into a form between them, the sign that something was materializing out of thin air. 
“Take it away, gang!” shouted Sophie with a huge smile, standing up. 
“Wha—?” “Huh?” 
Why would she stand up right in full view of the enemy snipers? everyone in the bar wondered. 
“Huh?” 
The chubby man, one of those very snipers, was equally taken aback. When the dwarf woman stood, she was nothing but a target. He took aim, expecting her to start running again. 
“Whaaaa—?” 
But instead, she plopped straight down on her backside. The wide-set woman sat cross-legged, looking their way with a confident grin. Then she extended the fingers of her bulky arms and jabbed them at the ground. It looked like she was going to dig into the dirt, but she stopped them in a thrusting position. 
“…M, what is she doing? What is she trying to do?” the chubby man asked, still confused—no, more confused than before—and looking to his leader for help. 
“I have no idea…but I’m going to shoot,” M said, placing the sights of the M107A1’s scope over the dwarf woman. 
Then something even more unbelievable happened. 
A bullet effect appeared on the head of the grinning woman. The left half of it glowed red, spitting off little polygonal chunks, and the large head on its thick neck base tilted to the right a bit. 
After the three or four seconds it took for her HP to deplete, a DEAD tag popped over her body. She had died instantly—the sitting dwarf was now a sitting corpse. 
“Wha—?” 
M’s finger stopped, just before it was about to touch the trigger of the M107A1. 
He could easily tell it was an insta-kill, because she’d been shot in the head. 
But who had shot her? 
She’d been shot on the right side from his perspective, and the left from hers, but there couldn’t have been a different team in that direction just now. 
Still, M had to move the gun a bit to the right in order to learn the answer. 
She dropped to the ground right away, before he could fire, but through the scope, he briefly but clearly saw…the boss of the enemy team, pointing her Vintorez at her own teammate. 
 



Share This :


COMMENTS

No Comments Yet

Post a new comment

Register or Login