I'm the Strongest, You Know

A quiet, secluded island. High above, a fierce sun baked the earth until it burned.

This place was the middle of a desert, plain and simple. Not a drop of water in sight—just me, staggering in circles with nothing but my own body for company.

And yet, unlike this scrap of land, the main island—several times larger—was still roaring with gunfire. If I strained my ears, I could hear it without mercy.

The distance to the main island was a mere three kilometers. Swimming it would be exhausting, but it wouldn't be hard.

It was a distance I could definitely cross.

Or, by the will of the heavens, the world in front of me would simply vanish.

Or I'd take damage for no reason at all, watching my health tick away.

And every so often, all kinds of items would rain down from the sky.

My loadout, though, was already the best this place could offer. From head to torso to legs, I'd hit the max level of three, and I was stuffed with ammo and consumables besides.

In this state, I was confident I could fight anyone and win.

That was when it came.

A woman's voice. A blue sphere wrapped the entire island, then began shrinking, bit by bit, as time ticked on.

The little island had started out the size of a soccer stadium. Now it had withered down to something like a basketball court.

"I suppose it's time to get off this rock."

I'd tried to hold out here as long as I could, but the magnetic field shrank according to how many people were left.

Forty players remaining.

It had already contracted through a third phase, and I still hadn't made a move to leave the little island.

The reason was simple.

"I got lucky."

The first magnetic field had spawned around the small island. The second and third had overlapped it too, so I hadn't seen any point in leaving.

That luck was finished now.

A fresh kill log popped up, the count dropped from forty to thirty-nine—and in that same breath, the magnetic field shrank again.

Unfortunately, this time it didn't overlap the little island at all. As if the game itself were telling me to get out already, right as I'd started thinking about leaving.

"Perfect timing, then."

I clasped both hands and prayed to the sky.

"Please. Until I make it to the main island, no weird chatter from the heavens."

For a while I didn't move. I just stood there.

The will of the heavens did not speak.

Finally. It actually listened...

In high spirits, I threw myself into the sea.

And then—

The will of the heavens crashed down the instant I hit the water.

It's dark... and my body's so heavy... Am I about to drown like this?

I couldn't even tell if I was swimming in the right direction.

"No! I prayed and everything! What is this?!"

I could scream all I wanted. What had already happened couldn't be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠undone. All I could do was stretch my arms and legs and claw forward on nothing but gut instinct.

I had no idea how long I swam.

A hand scraped up onto land.

Five minutes of real-time swimming later, I'd reached shore.

"How can the donations just keep popping off like that?!"

Right up until I hit land, there had been nothing in my vision at all. Even after I'd barely made it ashore—

"Where even is this?"

Only then did the blackout lift, and a new stretch of earth swam into view. The main island.

"Whoa...."

The awe lasted about a second.

A chorus of guns racked around me.

A whole pack of them, ringing me in. In this game, cooperating with anyone who wasn't on your official team was supposed to be forbidden.

The number of barrels pointed at me alone was ten.

"This is too much!"

I bellowed it.

"Fine! Let's see who dies first—me or you!"

Even if they'd struck some pact, unless they were an actual designated team, friendly fire still applied. I lunged for the empty space.

There was no gap. The encirclement tightened, dense and seamless.

"Why are you doing this? To me! I said why are you doing this?!"

The players didn't say a word. They just came on, muzzles raised.

But betrayal lives everywhere.

One player suddenly swung their gun around and spat fire into the person standing right beside them.

A burst of automatic fire. In an instant, one of them went down.

My fight started there.

The sudden backstab threw the cooperating players into chaos. The second I confirmed the barrels that had been trained on me were swinging somewhere else—

"Hate to waste it, but I'm using this here."

I pulled the Panzerfaust 250 off my left shoulder and leveled it at them. I'd finished loading it before I ever crossed the water.

"Biggest cluster spotted! Target locked—firing!"

A huge bang, and the warhead spat black smoke as it flew.

Then a thunderous blast. It struck a player dead-on, and the shockwave tore through everyone standing nearby.

"Okay! Six left! I'll mop them up and move on!"

The Panzerfaust 250 took more than ten seconds just to reload. Firing it again wasn't realistic. I'd have to dump it here.

I scooped the items the dead had left behind and grabbed the Kar98 hanging off my right shoulder.

Even in chaos, people come back to their senses given time. They aimed at me.

But—

"Too slow."

I weaved through the incoming rounds, and every bullet I sent back found its mark. A full auto chatter of hits.

Someone might cry ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hacks, so I threw in big, obvious flicks of the mouse now and then—proof it wasn't a cheat.

"Yahoo!"

The heavens cheered my possessed movement and near-perfect shooting. A full five seconds of invincibility.

With this, I was the strongest!

"Ah—aah, that's dangerous!"

Little Boy's voice cut in from the side.

"Don't worry!"

"Excuse me? Even if you've got five seconds of invincibility, there are still six of them. Charging in is reckless!"

"I told you it's fine! Because right now, I..."

I'm the strongest, you know.

"Die! Die! Shineeee!!"

Tsuki's hands never stopped. She flicked her guns left and right in a blur of rapid fire and mowed the enemies down. Ten players vanished in a heartbeat.

"Fuu... that was a nasty round."

Up in the kill log at the top right, a flood of nicknames scrolled past.

"That name..."

One player crossed her vision.

Dong_suk99.

She snatched the phone off her computer desk and jumped online. At the very top of the site sat a familiar handle.

A few months back. He'd been a judge on the VTuber Music Project, and every time Kuro streamed he'd crashed in with bizarre questions, muddying the chat and putting her on the spot.

"Nnngh... unforgivable! Shineeee! Kusoyarou!"

Tsuki loaded her gun, pulled a grenade from her bag, and hurled it at Dongsuk.

Watching a streamer's broadcast while they were in-game ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was cheating—ban-worthy, even. But Tsuki isn't watching that guy's stream anyway, so it didn't matter.

If anything, she was going to seize this chance and make him feel it in his bones.

I'll make you understand who you picked a fight with... kusoyarou.

The pin came out with a metallic click. She calculated the grenade's hang time against the distance to Dongsuk—the system's throw limit.

"Target acquired."

Tsuki lifted her finger off the mouse.

The grenade sailed into the distance. She'd thrown it with his movement path already predicted. There was no need to spam them.

A sharp blast. By precise calculation, the grenade dropped right on Dongsuk's head.

"Nice!"

She pumped her fist.

"Th-that's impossible! This is hacks! It's definitely hacks!"

Dongsuk's panicked voice spilled from the phone speaker. Flush with the thrill of having wrecked him, Tsuki hunted down his dead character and unloaded into the corpse without mercy.

That, too, was the kind of BM you were absolutely not supposed to pull in this game. But if the other party was a streamer, the rules were different.

"Stop! I said stop! Why are you doing this to me?! I'm already dead!"

His scream-choked voice was a delight. Tsuki snorted a laugh, planted one more grenade, and strolled away from the spot.

"Let's see. Players remaining..."

Twenty-four.

Not many left.

She wasn't hoping for some last 1v1 with Jiwoo like in the anime she always watched. She just wanted that if Jiwoo died, the player who killed her would be Tsuki.

"Alright! Just a little more!"

The fifth and final magnetic field wasn't far off. Damage outside the zone only got worse as time passed, and with Jiwoo's skill, she'd survive to the end.

After all, it wasn't anyone else who'd taught her the game. It was Tsuki.

"Jiwoo-chan's skill isn't pro, maybe, but it's semi-pro. Tsuki knows that better than anyone. So..."

Kill a few more players, and they'd meet soon enough.

"Heheh... eheheheh..."

If she was the one who killed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Jiwoo in a final 1v1, what would she even say when they met in person?

Hi! I'm a fan!

Too lame.

Jiwoo-chan! To celebrate us meeting, your chest—!

That would just get her a fist to the face.

I've decided! The second we meet, I'll run up all excited and nuzzle my face into her chest!

Future Tsuki could deal with the aftermath.

"Come at me, all of you! I'll smash every last one of you!!"

And so, in the same moment the Japanese legend known as sukichu_kill11 made landfall in Korea, Jiwoo's play collided with the arrival of an entirely different disaster.

Meanwhile, Jiwoo ran and ran, conserving every bullet she could and sparing her fingers the extra strain.

One player left.

Hiding, she'd watched them work. They were better than a pro. Pros had ranks among themselves, too, and this last player was top-tier.

"Fuu... I can do this."

Her position was good. She could ambush whenever she wanted, and the opponent still hadn't seen her.

"That's enough. Here I go!"

Jiwoo hit the movement keys and, in the same motion, lined up her sights on the last player.

And then—

A single gunshot.

".....Huh?"