The First Generation's First Anniversary Song, Releasing November 5th (1)

“MoovGun, sir, please do not hold me back. I’m planning to take first place today.”

Of course, the moment those words left my mouth the chat window went up in flames.

I didn’t respond. Skill isn’t something you prove with words; you prove it with actions. Once I fell silent, MoovGun, perhaps because it was his own stream, stepped in to calm the overheated atmosphere. His method was pretty simple: revealing my username.

“Got it.”

The instant I entered the waiting room, laughter exploded across the 3p: FirstGen1stAnnivSongNov5Release chat.

The laughter only grew brighter thanks to MoovGun’s perfect support.

He spoke clearly without a single stutter even though the name was a tongue-twister. Guess quitting pro and doing this for a while pays off. Still, the whole thing looked like he was trying to suck up to our boss, so it honestly just pissed me off.

…Should I kill him?

“Just to be safe, would it be okay if I team-kill you before you can grab my ankle?”

“You’re famous, MoovGun, but I’m not. The reason my name got known was because I went around sniping trolls. If I grab your ankle, that makes me the troll.”

A supporter-class teammate who had been watching our conversation finally stepped in to mediate.

…It didn’t take long before I got swept up in MoovGun’s pace again.

“Of course.”

Everyone was losing their minds over MoovGun reading the full username, but that was an unspoken rule of this custom match, an iron law. Reading the username was simply basic courtesy. What MoovGun needed to focus on now was providing excellent sniper support. Our team had to take first, after all.

With that goal in mind I first-picked Crazy Shot. It was the class I was best at, and the message was for them to build around it. MoovGun asked,

“I survive ranked games with just that and smoke grenades.”

MoovGun let out a short groan as if weighing the composition, but surprisingly accepted my pick without complaint.

Assault, Controller, Supporter. The three classes that usually split into rush, recon (area control), and support need to mesh well for a good team. I was best at rushing, and we happened to have a decent sniper and supporter. In a way, MoovGun had perfectly read my intention. Since we had to aim for first in the heavenly server, I couldn’t completely ignore composition either. In other words, my role in this squad was to be the spearhead rusher. My job was to charge in and turn the enemy lines into complete chaos. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠If I could smash them, even better.

“I’m just going to drop smoke and run straight forward no matter what. Clean up the scraps on your own.”

In truth, before today’s custom match even began, every team had the same weakest link in mind.

MoovGun’s team.

No matter how skilled a sniper he had been in his pro days, he couldn’t withstand concentrated fire from all directions. That was the weakness of being a sniper. If one person attacked him the attacker might die instead, but if two went in, MoovGun was the one who ended up dead more often than not. Of course, if a backline supporter or healer class that focused on team care stuck right beside him the story would be different….

Maybe it was because of that time his team won the international tournament. After MoovGun took high ground, shredded the enemy teams’ shields, and let his other two teammates clean up for the victory, he had preferred to hold position alone ever since. Therefore, when facing his team, the easiest strategy was to rush him first. Once MoovGun was neutralized the other two could be cleaned up easily. His sniping was certainly fierce, but if you used cover to sneak up on him there was a limit to how well he could react.

“No. Opposite. We clear the frontline first.”

However, this named player known as Employee D or SignalFlare was only known by one-third of the players. The remaining two-thirds had to look her up on the wiki. Either way, she was a ramming dinosaur who only knew how to charge.

In the pro scene, rushing without properly identifying enemy positions was practically suicide. Even if you brought smoke grenades, they weren’t invincible. There was a limit to how much they could block vision, and once you got close everything was visible. On top of that, pro movement was ridiculously fast. It was already a game with a long TTK (Time To Kill), and when you added high-level movement a single magazine often wasn’t enough to finish a fight.

For a surprise rush to work, the rushing side needed to down at least one person first. If they failed? The mid and backline support would immediately rush in, catch the rusher from behind, and down them instead. One of the biggest differences separating Diamond from the ranks above was precisely this organic team cooperation. Therefore, Employee D’s brainless rushing had a high chance of dragging the whole team down to defeat.

“Confirmed.”

So the moment they heard the double-barrel blasts from nearby, Team C’s players immediately ran toward the sound, took position using the house and surrounding walls as cover. A perfectly laid ramming-dinosaur trap. Just as expected, after pretending to fight and making gunshot sounds for a while, a single cylindrical object came spinning through the air.

Clang——— psshhhhh.

The instant the smoke grenade landed it began spewing thick white smoke.

The assault player holding the foremost position fell back while reporting.

“She’s circling to eat us.”

Even from the chat it was obvious she was fighting too simply. The mood was already praying for Employee D’s soul, saying she would soon be surrounded and killed. But before the retreating assault player could exit the smoke, something shot through the blurry vision and revealed itself.

Long braided red hair and blue lipstick. The one thrusting two ridiculously large gun barrels forward was none other than Crazy Shot.

It was insane. The squad was already about to surround the smoke. If she stayed trapped inside she wouldn’t be able to escape, yet she charged in anyway, determined to kill whoever she saw first. But the assault player wasn’t new to this. Just because a barrel was in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠your face didn’t mean you were guaranteed to die. At this close range, violent movement actually made it harder for the opponent to land shots——.

Bang! Bang!

It wasn’t even a shield; it was a level-3 shield. One step below the max level of 4. Even a heavy sniper round to the head would leave one shield bar. Yet the assault player had been cleanly dropped by two double-barrel shots. It meant Employee D had landed most of the shotgun pellets on his moving head despite the blurry vision penalty from the smoke.

“What? How did that happen?”

“Confirmed.”

If the team had rushed into the smoke the moment the assault player went down, they could have downed Employee D within the six-second double-barrel reload time. But their reaction was too slow. They never dreamed he would go down in just two shots. They had heard the rumors that SignalFlare ran around destroying people with smoke and double barrels, but there had been no data showing it worked against pro-level movement.

“Let’s throw grenades.”

While the supporter and controller stayed behind cover and prepared to throw presents at the Employee D trapped inside the smoke, Crazy Shot came flying out of the smoke with her braided hair whipping behind her. This time she appeared on the supporter’s side. The moment she heard the sound of a grenade being cooked (the technique of holding it so it explodes the instant it lands), she burst out of the smoke without the slightest hesitation.

Bang! Bang!

The double barrel spat fire twice more and the supporter player went down.

The controller belatedly released his grenade and circled around the smoke, but Employee D had already slipped back inside by a hair’s breadth. He poured bullets into the expected escape route, but only managed to scratch the shield a little.

“Her escape speed is ridiculous…!”

The controller quickly took cover again.

“No way. I’ve never even heard of a Diamond playing like this. Is she really Diamond? Is she a pro?”

In the meantime another smoke grenade went psshhh, spreading white smoke across the area. The smoke had been thrown right in front of the wall where the controller was hiding. I roughly know where you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠took cover. If you stay there I’m coming in with the shotgun. As the smoke gradually spread and crossed over the wall, the controller now had only two choices: enter the smoke and fight head-on, or retreat further and wait for the smoke to dissipate completely. Normally the former would have matched his playstyle, but… the scenes he had just witnessed were so absurd he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It felt like the moment he stepped into the smoke his head would fly off. With no other option, the controller began running away from Employee D. He planned to fall back first and then revive his teammates. The double barrel’s range was short, after all. He calculated that if he sprinted at full speed it would be practically impossible to chase him.

But… wasn’t he forgetting something?

—— Bang!

Crash!

“Ah, shit. We’re fucked.”

Employee D wasn’t alone. Since they hadn’t been able to finish her off while she charged in, what remained was the sniper round from MoovGun who had taken position behind her. The instant the shield shattered with a crystalline sound, Crazy Shot burst out of the smoke like the wind. Once again the double-barrel muzzle was aimed precisely at the controller’s head.

BANG!!