Why Can't I Use a Shotgun?

The message from Dingsam arrived less than two days after the Pazizik year-end party, thanks to Roofkr's lightning-fast handling of the paperwork. For reference, Dingsam is also part of the Makgeolli Crew, so he'd gotten an earful from Keugaemang two days earlier. The reason? He'd stubbornly kept using formal speech even after being told to speak casually to me. …I felt an odd sense of solidarity. Even if someone tells me to drop the politeness, I can't bring myself to speak casually unless I genuinely feel comfortable with them.

Anyway, my participation in the tournament was now confirmed. The finalized roster would be announced tomorrow through Dingsam's stream and the official tournament page, so I decided it was time to start preparing in earnest. One might think that once teams are formed everything resets, but tournaments like this are ultimately decided by the individual skill each player has built up beforehand and how well the newly formed team can coordinate during that crucial first week of practice. So I needed to use the week leading up to the auction to prepare thoroughly.

No matter how outstanding your FPS genetics might be, failing to adapt to the game means falling behind in the blink of an eye. And hadn't I learned that lesson clearly while supporting the others on the Wicker server? When you're good at something in front of a crowd—especially streamers—they naturally start following your lead. And once they follow? It becomes much easier to build connections.

The way Roofkr, who had been so standoffish during I'm a Wolf, now treated me without reservation and even gave me a spot in this tournament? It was all possible because I'd loaned out a lot of money on the Wicker server. So I had to do my best this time too. I needed to avoid tarnishing Parallel's name and instead leave only a positive impression.

The next day, Serena reached out first.

It was a sudden offer, but I thought it was perfect timing. I'd been wondering who I should learn Combative from anyway. Dora was participating in the Dog Mom Tournament exclusively for players in the Bronze-Silver-Gold tiers, and Komari was busy helping her as a coach. Maru and Rain were swamped handling advertising deals in their place while also recording their new cover song. The boss was now fully occupied preparing for the second-generation auditions, which meant even less streaming time. All I could do was offer a silent prayer.

In any case, that meant Serena would become my Combative instructor. I started with the most obvious question.

“By the way, what tier are you in Combative, Serena?”

Like how Koreans always ask about age when they first meet, gamers—especially those who play the same genre—have to ask about tiers. Since I could flex my Diamond rank in Battle Colosseum, if she was below ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my expectations I was planning to subtly take the lead…

Even if it was a low Diamond, Diamond was still Diamond. I had to acknowledge it.

“Then please teach me, sensei.”

Maybe because I'd grown much closer to Serena recently, a prank slipped out before I could stop myself.

“Sensei. Arigatou gozaimasu.”

I learned this later, but the pink curly-haired elf with the round eyes who introduced herself by saying “I'm a healing-type VTuber” completely transformed the moment she started playing Combative. In a way, it was similar to how a normally sharp and cute elf would turn into a foul-mouthed gremlin the instant she turned on Battle Colosseum. But Serena's version was a bit softer. She usually went around saying things like “What do I do?”, “This is bad,” and “Uwaaang,” but the moment ranked games began, she would issue clean, precise calls that led her team to victory.

She had already decided to participate in Combative before me and had jumped into some internal matches a few days earlier. Even though this was her first tournament, she was already being evaluated highly as an expensive auction item. Of course, since those evaluations came from brain-rotted Battle Colosseum addicts, I couldn't trust all of them. After all, I myself frequently showered the boss with excessive praise on her streams to make her embarrassed, and not all of that was sincere. (Usually the goal was to make her flustered.)

But after playing with her, I could clearly tell—this person was genuinely excellent at explaining things.

Maybe because she knew I was a Diamond player in Battle Colosseum, she skipped over the basic explanations and adjusted everything to my level. She had the kind of sense that made me think she would have been an excellent teacher even if she'd stood in front of a classroom. It was surprising, considering her previous life as an idol trainee meant she had almost no experience teaching others.

Combative was the spiritual successor to a once-popular team-versus-team FPS. While it added skills to create a hyper-FPS feel, it had simplified and made the systems more intuitive, earning praise for being more accessible. However, that also meant the strategies had become quite standardized. The so-called 'national rule composition' of one Infiltrator, two Strikers, one Defender, and one Tactician.

It wasn't like Battle Colosseum where your exact position was predetermined, but each player definitely had a defined role. Naturally, my interest went to the Tactician. You could use smoke up to three times per round to open attack routes or hinder enemy entry. It was exactly my style.

Can't I just run shotgun and smoke plays?

But as I listened to Serena's continued explanation, I realized the way smoke worked in Combative was completely different from Battle Colosseum. Unlike Battle Colosseum's smoke, which you could throw into the middle of the enemy team and then dance in and out of to toy with opponents, Combative's smoke had a much stronger purpose of 'area denial.' You'd place it primarily on locations where enemies were likely to be waiting, forcing their movement or hiding how many people your team was committing to the attack.

The reason for this was the stark difference in TTK (Time to Kill). In Battle Colosseum, even late game it took at least five seconds to kill one person, but in Combative, if you had a good gun, landing a single headshot could drop opponents instantly. It allowed for plays where you could take down enemies in one shot—essentially one-taps.

That's why assault rifles held more importance than in any other FPS. It was more reliable for winning fights to just spray down the head line with full auto rather than trying to precisely aim single shots at the head. In other words, my beloved smoke-and-rush playstyle had to be put on hold for now. How sad….

Serena seemed to know this too. After thinking about a position that would suit me, someone who liked rushing and smoke, she said this:

“Can I use a shotgun in the Striker role?”

“But isn't that standard based ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the pro scene?”

“Ah. I see.”

Even in Battle Colosseum, the superiority of certain guns changes with each version. It's surprisingly common for the strongest gun of one season to completely fall off and get buried ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the next. FPS games are extremely sensitive to balance, after all. If even Battle Colosseum, where killing one person takes several seconds, is like that, then Combative—where one-taps are possible—must be even more so. So there was no need to argue with Serena's suggestion that I should use a good gun and play as a Striker.

However, knowing my personality, she added this:

“Smoker?”

“Really? I'm definitely playing that character.”

“Playing without smoke and rushing is just boring. So? Can that character use a shotgun?”

“Why not? Can't I just close the distance with it?”

That damn one-tap was the problem. Unlike Battle Colosseum, where you could pull off crazy movement to escape, in this game it was difficult. In the end, you had to play strategically, move by move, like chess or go, advancing the entire team together. In a way, it was a game better suited for pro leagues. Because it required thorough standardization and formalization, demanding excellent team coordination.

In short, this wasn't a game that matched my preference for running around with a shotgun and acting obnoxious. Once the tournament was over, I wouldn't touch it again. 'Still, the higher the placement, the better….'

There were five days left until the auction. If I learned as much as possible from Serena during that time and then worked hard to build team synergy after the auction, maybe it would work out somehow. Of course, if the team leader picked terribly at the auction, an absolutely horrific team that could never win might be born. But let's talk about that later. Right now, improving my own skills came first.

“For now, I'll do whatever you tell me to, teacher.”

“If you don't like teacher, how about master?”

Surprisingly, the fact that I had been practicing with Serena spread across the galleries in less than a day. Whether it's the idol scene or the VTuber scene, those fans possessed by madness have an uncanny ability to instantly find out what their oshi is doing. Was my Combative nickname too easy to identify? I'd just used a normal malicious sniper format.

'KimchiPizzaSweetAndSourPorkEatenWithSauce.'

Wasn't that an incredibly common nickname? …

Thanks to that, the fans' mentions and expectations only grew stronger. The trend was especially noticeable among Rapits fans. While you could dismiss friendly interactions between members of different groups as just for show, I was an employee who knew Parallel's internal affairs inside and out. The fact that someone like me was playing in a private room with a Rapits member seemed to spark all sorts of expectations.

Of course, regardless of what people thought, I simply treated Serena as my master. Thanks to her, I learned Combative efficiently and reached a level where I could at least pull my own weight.

“Actually, I don't really want to shoot.”

“That's too small. I need something bigger and longer….”

But this kind of giggling and casual chatting with Serena would probably end today. Once the tournament started, we'd each be scattered into different teams and become competitors racing for first place. Serena seemed to want to be on the same team as me, though….

I was a data-less rookie, so the chances of me being passed over at the auction were high, but Serena was a second-tier player who could give orders, making her a coveted item for every team. We'd only be able to meet if I got extremely lucky and overcame a 25% probability.

“Anyway, good luck no matter what team you end up on, master.”

Serena, who had finally gotten used to being called master after four days, muttered weakly.

My pranks were my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠way of showing we'd gotten closer. Maybe it didn't come across that way? When she first approached me, I thought she'd get used to my teasing quickly, but she surprisingly found it difficult and awkward, so I'd started holding back a bit. Anyway, it was time to prepare for the auction.

The tournament organizers had asked us to turn on our streams during the auction, and there might be interviews during it, so I'd already logged into Talk Code. When I connected to the official Pazizik relay channel, there were already 50,000 viewers. And this was just for the player auction. They said the official relay channel alone would pull in at least 100,000 viewers on the day of the finals. If you combined all channels, it might reach 300,000 to 400,000 like the Wicker Town closing ceremony.

The scale of the numbers had suddenly changed since the Wicker Town event, but since not all these people would be watching me, I could comfortably watch the auction with peace of mind.

…Ah, it's starting.