Rooftop Embrace and the Triple Tap
We gathered on the rooftop of Korea University's Memorial Hall. I scanned the outside, then turned around. Shai was perched on the outdoor unit duct with her ass hanging off it, while Conel sat pondering something with the radio set down beside her. Around 4 a.m., maybe? A voice crackled from the radio.
Albatross 1, waiting in the maintenance depot, has returned after repairs. Thanks to this, we can monitor some sectors during the operation.
"Can we receive search data?"
In response to Conel's question, the agent laid out the personnel setup at the target points. It was a full briefing with basic placements, so it dragged on quite a bit.
"Hey, but like."
Shai scraped the rooftop floor with her dagger, looking bored out of her mind with the op details.
"How'd you cook folks into targeting just one spot? If we'd said we'd handle it, shit would've hit the fan, right?"
...Easy thanks to Albatross. Sims say current forces have low odds of retaking even one spot, so they bought it.
"Ironically, the VIP made this smooth sailing."
Conel nailed it. They weren't brimming with confidence like me after the Memorial Hall goodies. No way they'd greenlight three randos handling two sites otherwise—that's straight-up lunacy.
"Op kicks off at 5:45. Just to hammer it home: not one minute early or late."
To thwart the terrorists, it was all about timing over raw speed. Conel drilled it into the NIS agent repeatedly.
I stake everything on it. Duly noted.
"Hope you deliver on those words. Screw up, and the news runs pics of the VIP and dead civilians."
The agent didn't flinch under Conel's heat. Gotta have that steel to bet your career on madness. Instead, she went soft on us—like farewelling sailors shoving off.
Line stays open. Hit us if issues crop up... good luck.
Radio went quiet. Silence hung over the rooftop. Conel checked her watch, eyed me.
"...Thirty minutes till go-time, B2."
"Huh?"
"Time to move to positions."
Conel just stared at me blankly, not budging. Shai sighed and hauled herself up.
"Cringe talk's not my jam. Heading down first."
"Shai, watch yourself."
"You first. Don't eat shit from a terrorist sneaking up mid-dump."
"...Who're you calling dumbass."
Shai waved—half teasing, half worried—and vanished. Just me and Conel now.
She hesitated a beat, then spoke slowly.
"This work... it's lonely. Brutal."
"Y...yeah, figures."
"And the dead... they pile up endless."
Conel's eyes dulled. Probably flashing back to lost comrades.
"B2, why're you here?"
"Me? Well..."
"You could've holed up in the Cafe Evergreen basement. Bailed midway. Hell, you're safe in the Liberal Arts Building right now."
...Huh, true? Conel's words hit me—I could rabbit now. Wasn't viable at first, but game changed.
Still.
"Who ditches their squad?"
"..."
"Wait, you think I'm your only squadmate?"
"No."
I flashed Conel a grin. Even back in-game, I dug this faux-German ajusshi vibe. Acts ice-cold but gives a damn, plays aloof but thinks deep. Bet there's some massive reason fueling this terror-busting insanity.
That's why... I wanna back her play.
"Can't do? I say so. This? I can, so I will."
"Heh... you're a fool."
"Why am I—"
Sudden warmth crashed over me. Conel yanked me into a tight hug, stroking my back.
"Sorry... don't you dare die, B2. Handle this your way—the B2 I know."
"...Forgot why I main sniper?"
I pictured my Chasefield X self. Cocky as hell, larger-than-life every time.
"Longest sit-down playtime? I ain't dying."
"Right. That's you."
Her eyes—bluer, brighter than ever. Moonlight? Nah, I decided otherwise.
Conel dipped. I was solo. Weirdly, I smirked.
"Me, field-testing this beast. Bleeding-edge smart shooter—not even market-ready! Ever... Evergreen, whatever!"
Wiped palm sweat, pulled my baby from its railing nook. Planted another kiss—couldn't help it.
"Lens first, yeah?"
Conel's product rundown clicked. Popped the tiny case, slipped on the lens. Faint turquoise HUD bloomed in my vision. AR display.
Next, the bundled headset for ear pro. Smart shooter: armed.
Clack! Wedged it on the railing—no muzzle poke-out.
"Whoa! Time flew..."
Fiddled a bit—twenty minutes gone. Needed bonding time first.
"Power on how...?"
No manual switch. Figured it out quick.
Sniper lit up like it sensed me. HUD popped:
Access confirmed.
User identity scan̶i̴n̷g̸...
"Scan̶i̴n̷g̸?"
Headset garbled weird. Thought busted—nearly smacked it old-school, 150-year mechanic fix.
Glitch? HUD rebooted.
Identity confirmed.
Gl̷i̴t̶c̸h̷!
Child protection mode activated.
Beginner hunting guide launching.
"Child?!"
Hey, kid friend! Welcome to Hunting Classroom! What's your name, cutie?
What the actual fuck...? Bright, peppy woman's voice. Checked timer—cooperate for now.
"Uh... B2! B2 here!"
Hi, B2 kiddo! I'm Evergreen, your first-hunt helper today!
Proceeded with the madness.
Pick your hunt ammo first?
"O-okay... three types, huh. .338 Lapua Magnum to start."
Prime choice! Nothing beats deer for a first hunt.
...Progressing, sorta. Scoped practice in cheek-weld. Magnification crisp, thermals on, peeked inside buildings. But settings auto-tweaked without input.
"Hey... you tweaking these?"
Yup! Brainwave-scanning optimal recs for ya! Timing's everything in the hunt!
Handy as hell. Asked about trigger—nope.
"Time's ticking."
For real? Hunt starting? What's your style, kid?
AI wrestling ate fifteen minutes. Bullshitted back.
"Short window, bag tons of varied game."
Tough gig? But if you want, I'll hook you up! Mind borrowing your data real quick?
"Data? Sure, whatever."
Body scan kicked in. Results... off.
Checked your hunt logs. Five hits—mostly fishing ponds.
"Fishing?!"
Dad took me a few times as a kid. Wait, data means...
Jackpot! Chasefield X—three years logged. Downloading... done!
"Hey, halt—"
Vice-class-prez type, huh? Bit more grind, you'd own prez spot!
"Vice-prez? Nah, I dig mopping floors..."
Banter aside, this shit was terrifying. AI barreled on—no brakes.
Prez dreams? This hunt's your ticket! Wanna squad up tons of pals?
"Pals?"
Linked friendly potentials in 1.5km radius! Happy hunting with buds!
"What the—"
Headset flooded with voices.
[Mobile 1 Team at target.]
[Lieutenant... this cool?]
[Conel said broadcast room's third floor? Hit there.]
[Solid call. Agent says high odds of commander. Still live-streaming.]
Let's make friends!
"Hold up—stop!"
Yelled into headset. Comm chatter cut dead. Evergreen obeyed, thank god.
[Who the hell? Switching to B channel... wait, no dice.]
[Lieutenant! Weird noise on radio. Still live?]
[That B2? What's going on? No way... Evergreen?]
Oh shit... Clammed up.
Ten minutes to launch. Fork in the road: kill the rogue AI or herd cats.
Ditched tech war. "Everyone grinding all-nighters—props. I'm here to back safe terror smackdown and your safe returns."
[Who is this?]
[Lieutenant, sounds familiar...]
[Hmm...]
Over ten voices piled in. Then a booming one exploded.
[What the fuck is this?! Kill the damn radio NOW!]
[Boss! Can't... won't shut off!]
[Can't? Smash it!]
"Hey, pops! Chill a sec. I ain't the bad guy here..."
Grouchy voice bulldozed me.
[Chill?! You terrorists or what?!]
"Not terror—helping your asses..."
[Think we'll team with scum like you? Laughing at Korea!]
This guy's interrupt king. Got snippy.
"Won't team? Fine. What're you gonna do—save your precious VIP? We'll handle the rest our way."
[Wha—abort op NOW! Negotiation window's wide open!]
...Round two, bitch? Gamed his ass gamer-style.
"Abort? Eight minutes to go? I'm firing either way. People die? Your fault."
[You? Caught means life in the slammer...]
"Evergreen—mute that fucker."
Say your piece, then block. Three years gaming taught me: gospel.
My bad! Bad apple spotted! Locked from all channels for you!
[You little...]
"Distraction gone. With me covering, you all RTB safe, no scratches, looking badass."
Bit salesy? Murmurs rose. Then a gravelly middle-aged voice.
True? Save civvies and everyone home safe?
"Damn straight. Trust me and my crew."
...Copy. Hack mil lines for control? Outmatched.
Didn't know Evergreen pulled that stunt. Shivered at AI power. Captain pressed on.
Special Task Force Captain Jeong Jinseong. Op's high fail risk. These kids can't rappel for shit.
Die fine by me. But not them.
Help us out.
"..."
One right line here. Nailed it absolute.
"No worries. With me? Zero deaths. Time's up—get to posts."
Bustle kicked in. Pre-request, HUD corner bloomed with squad action cams—one by one.
"Thanks."
Trust me, kid buddy!
Twenty feeds. Bit more than game squads.
"Fuuu..."
Deep breath in, out. Sniper overwatch? Spoon-to-mouth basic.
Settling in, Evergreen chirped.
First shot: Main Building! Friends there, wide blind spots—easy bag!
"Huh?"
Next: Future Hall! Last: Central Library! Marked fire-easy order.
"Hold up, Evergreen."
Yeah?
AI dictating shot order and spots?
"Why sequence 'em?"
Hunt success ma—
"All three need help? Blast all at once."
Evergreen shut up—first time. Twenty seconds to go.
No explain—demo time.
Go-time synced, but humans? Millisecond drifts. Late first shot, watch skew. Gap: three-to-five seconds.
So.
Three rounds in that window? Same as salvo.
Stop! Odds zero for humans! Precision bots only!
"Odds? Don't know 'em."
Three seconds left. Targets: bomb-switch terrorists.
"Possible or not—that's my world."
Exhaled halfway, held. Squeezed on bomb bitches.
BANG!BANG!BANG!