The Rising Super Rookie Streamer (2)
But the viewers' reactions were anything but ordinary. What I'd shown them as a perfectly normal display seemed, to everyone else, like something close to a divine miracle.
Hmm... how was I supposed to explain this properly? If Soldier had been a complete incompetent, I could have used him as a sandbag and walked them through it nicely. Ah — so Soldier was the problem. This had happened precisely because, for all his posturing, his skill was only half-baked. Still, I was going to have to add an explanation.
"Ah, that must have been a little difficult. When that happens, you watch with your eyes and slowly learn—"
That was genuinely dangerous. I'd been so startled that I clapped both hands over my mouth on instinct. If the sentence had kept going, the viewers would have gone ice-cold without a doubt. The words waiting on the other side of that pause were roughly these: watch it with your eyes, learn it slowly, then practice it yourself until it becomes your own.
Wow. Even thinking it over again... Why on earth had I started thinking like those lecturing old-timers from the Heavenly Realm? Back then, the moment I heard that line, I'd sworn that no matter how strong I got, I would never act like one of them. I pressed a hand to my chest in relief and checked the chat.
Strange. I'd expected them to get angry, and yet most of the reactions were positive. Back when I lived in South Korea, plenty of people hated unsolicited advice... Had the trend shifted? Hmm. The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Ten years had passed, virtual reality games had appeared, and people were broadcasting from inside them — why wouldn't that have changed too? I nodded to myself and turned my gaze toward Soldier.
He was jammed into a crater punched into the rock. A moment later he flopped onto the ground amid the shattered debris, spawned an assault rifle, and started using it like a cane to haul himself upright.
"Y-you think one hit gives you room to act all relaxed...?"
The words spilled out as he rose, trembling. His speech was stumbling, and yet his eyes were glaring. Still, I was glad he wasn't the sort of loser who folded the instant his tactics were read. If he'd tucked his tail like a beaten dog, he would have gone from insect to garbage that couldn't even be recycled. For now I watched to see what scheme he was cooking — and he was fumbling a dagger onto the assault rifle.
"Bayonet fighting...? You've lost your mind. You're seriously trying to close in on me?"
I only pretended to be surprised. If I looked shocked, he'd let his guard down, and he clearly had some other angle. Otherwise he never would have made a decision that foolish. Sure enough, Soldier kicked off the ground and charged, leveling the rifle in both hands as if he meant to run me through. The dagger was aimed at my heart. He was going for a critical hit.
He came in fast. I twisted just enough to slip the blade — but he didn't stop there. He'd clearly predicted the dodge, and he immediately spun the rifle to smash the stock into my waist. Blocking would be best. But I'd said I'd finish this without landing a clean hit. So I had to dodge. I jumped back as if retreating, and the strike missed.
After I evaded, though, something was off. He showed no sign of closing in on me. Why wasn't he following? He'd invited a close-range fight himself, and now he was just sizing me up from a distance. Suspicious, I used One Fist, One Shot again — the same technique I'd fired when I launched the grenade. Soldier only shot from where he stood, canceling the attack, and didn't seem inclined to leave that spot at all.
In that instant, a thought flashed through my head.
"Ahh~. So that's what this is. You planted mines around here, didn't you? I was wondering why you were acting like that. Did you really think I'd fall for it?"
The realization hit all at once: this whole area was probably carpeted with mines. That had to be his angle. When I'd landed earlier, I'd caught a glimpse of a mine buried in the sand, so it was only reasonable to assume there were more nearby. He'd wanted me to decide that this spot — well away from where the bullets had been flying — was clear. Then, by forcing a close fight with bayonet work, he'd expected me to wander around without thinking and step on one.
For the record, every exchange since we'd met had happened in a straight line. The sensible conclusion, then, was that the mines had been laid outside that straight corridor.
The viewers were just as impressed by the read. I never thought those miserable years in the Heavenly Realm would help a broadcast this much. Meanwhile, Soldier's face was a spectacle. He clearly hadn't expected his trump card to be read; his eyes went wide, and cold sweat poured down his face. Better than last time, when he'd simply flown into a blind rage. That had been hard to watch with both eyes open.
Let's see. If there were mines all around, then he couldn't leave that spot either. Having decided as much, I charged him in a straight line.
"Everyone watching, let me show you something fun. Eyes on me, okay?"
The moment the words left my mouth, I swung a fist through empty air and sent three shots of One Fist, One Shot flying. The first, he answered with a round from the rifle. The second must have caught him on a delay — he stabbed it with the dagger, and it burst with a dull whump.
This next part was the point. If I had it right, he'd already spent a bullet and the dagger, so the odds were high he'd block the last shot with the body of the gun itself. Then all I had to do was put my weight into the rebound and send him flying. Sure enough, Soldier brought the rifle up in front of himself to stop the third One Fist, One Shot. The instant I saw it, I closed the distance at tremendous speed. And the moment the block shoved him a step backward—
—I drove my fist in and launched him into the same rock he'd been buried in before, giving him back the very words I'd heard when we met on his GodTierGunslinger character.
It felt incredible. Back then, listening to him squeal like a pig at slaughter had nearly rotted my ears. In a word, call it him paying off the karma he'd earned. The man who'd gone flying off my fist was jammed right back into that crater in the rock, and I closed in to hammer his abdomen. At the same time the stone let out a grinding crack, and Soldier began to scream without a sound.
"Don't tell me you're wearing body armor? The hit feels wrong..."
The feedback in my hand was all off. It didn't feel like striking a living thing so much as punching a cushion. Hmm. Looking closer, his clothes seemed pretty thick. Then I'd have to hit him hard enough to burst the armor — hard enough that the impact got through to him for certain.
The viewers looked fully locked into the moment. The time to end round one was coming. With that thought, I drew my cocked fist back and drove it straight into his abdomen — the same spot I'd just hit. A thunderous boom followed, and Soldier was driven deeper into the rock. His eyes were on the verge of losing focus. Time to hand him a defeat and let him rest easy.
From there I threw another punch into his abdomen and sent him flying along with a great mass of the rock face. The impact, of course, blew the stone to pieces. Soldier went with the fragments, so there was no question he'd taken enormous damage. The shards came down with a heavy crash, and only after a little while did the sound die completely.
I walked out through the debris to check on him. He was flat on his back, apparently unconscious. I waited a moment in case he got back up, but he didn't so much as twitch a finger.
Round 1 goes to user Baekryun. The current score is 1:0.
A mechanical voice. Same as last time, it seemed — I'd knocked him out and taken the round. But Battle Mania was honestly a little frightening. A virtual reality game being this realistic was nice, and yet a big enough impact could actually knock you unconscious. It wasn't as if I was going to be the one passing out, but scary was still scary.
Judging by how hot the viewers' reactions had gotten, though, this broadcast had hit its highlight. All right. Once he woke up, I'd need to dig into a few things — exactly what kind of guild Chess Guild was, and why he'd been seal-clubbing newcomers on an alt. If there really was a guild out there doing that kind of smurf-stomping, the worst kind, I intended to tear it out by the roots.