Let's Give Some Coaching
Let’s give some coaching.
Acrid smoke, gunfire, and the frantic clatter of combat boots.
In the heart of the battlefield, grim-faced soldiers geared up and charged toward the enemy lines.
Red team: four. Blue team: five.
Word had come that one of the enemy had peeled off for some reason, and Blue’s morale shot through the roof. The idiot deserter was even the other team’s ace.
This was a fight they could not lose. They’d put a bullet through that silent runaway’s forehead back at base, too.
Blue’s excited advance poured tension into the war zone. No sniper rifles. Only charge after charge. Concentrating firepower with the numbers advantage worked pretty well. Simultaneous rushes left Red in chaos, and Blue grew more and more certain victory was right in front of them.
Right in the middle of the slaughter—
“Aaaaaaagh—!”
“What’s going on?!”
“He’s back! He’s back!”
A teammate’s radio crackled that the sleeping tiger had opened its eyes, and the panicked screams cranked the dread up high.
True to the reputation. The enemy soldier everyone whispered about single-handedly tore their formation apart. Heads popping left and right, he roared like a tiger declaring, Your festival’s over!
Was this the reverse…? How were they supposed to stop that monster? God, watch over us.
Maybe the desperate prayer reached the heavens.
He froze—
“He’s stopped moving!”
“Kill him! Kill that bastard!”
They managed to drop the merciless monster who had just wiped three of their own in an instant. But—
“Pick up the tempo… pick it up! If he comes back we can’t guarantee anything.”
The moment they tasted his power, the current score advantage meant nothing. All they wanted was to rack up seventy kills and get the hell out of this gunpowder-stinking battlefield.
Bullets rained for a long while after that.
62 : 55
The commander stared at the cruel board that reduced soldiers’ lives to numbers. Only eight more lives and it was over.
But then—
Bang—!
WoniWoni>.< ︻デ═一 DataRecovering
A sharp crack of gunfire rang across the hellish battlefield. The signal that he was back.
“Yeah. No way it was going to be that easy.”
Life never is.
“He’s back! But victory’s right in front of us—don’t freeze up!”
According to comms, the weapon he carried was a Winchester—Win34. Every shot packed serious damage, but it wasn’t built to handle the endless spray of rifles.
Move to terrain where sniping’s hard.
“Charge!! Avoid the sniper and push into the densest cover we can find!”
Under the commander’s orders, Blue headed into the tangled ground snipers hated—and ran straight into the enemy there.
Yeah. This was better. If it turned into a pure dogfight of mutual slaughter, their side would hit seventy first.
Victory medals already glittered in the Blue commander’s eyes.
Sadly—
Bang—! Bang—!
“What?!”
The sniper’s heavy report that should have come from far away was vibrating right in their faces.
“Aaaaaaagh—!”
“He’s…! He’s come down himself with the sniper rifle!!”
Victory cheers turning into screams made the commander’s beard tremble.
“Th-this is—! This is rifle terrain! This can’t be happening.”
Miss even one shot and close-range fire will pour in—and he’s using a sniper here?!
Click-clack—!
He racked a heavy assault rifle and headed to the front himself.
I’ll kill this monster with my own hands.
On the front line thick with death screams, he waited for any trace of the guy. The instant that familiar bang—! sounded—
“You bastard!”
How dare you touch my men!
The Blue commander lunged out, muzzle already leveled. He thought he’d seized the perfect first move…
The enemy’s long barrel whipped toward him with shocking speed.
BAAANG—!
The merciless shot dropped the commander coughing blood.
Th-this can’t be…
Terrifying reaction speed, almost beastlike. Through fading vision, only a pair of rabbit ears that had no business on a battlefield fluttered.
At some point the board had flipped to a reverse.
68 : 69
And soon—
Blue Team Eliminated
One late-joining enemy monster had flipped the entire war.
Facing bitter defeat, the commander decided to leave one last line for his hardworking teammates.
Even in loss, Angler wasn’t too mad—he was already thinking about the YouTube edit.
The second Mom left the room, she dove straight into the game and scrambled into action.
Thanks to her teammates holding the line, the gap hadn’t been as brutal as she’d feared, and she’d clawed out a razor-thin win.
“Whew, that was close, right?”
I really thought we were cooked for sure!
If she was allowed a little self-praise, her read on the situation had been clean.
People need to know how great I am.
“When the kill score’s against you, you die as little as possible while still farming as many kills as you can, yeah?”
She chattered the explanation out for the viewers.
“In that spot a sniper’s usually best, but the enemies all brought rifles and forced close range.”
So what do you need then?
“That’s exactly when you need the Winchester. You can still fight the rushing rifles head-on and play defense too.”
Truly educational content. Strategy and execution both on display.
After the short lecture from soon-to-be Diamond 2 Teacher, she opened the chat.
Surely everyone was clapping for her triumphant general-level performance?
“Uh.”
Oh crap.
She’d left chat unattended while gaming and completely forgotten.
I was streaming the vacuum cleaner noise the whole time, huh?
But hey, even-steven. They’d messed with her mic settings first.
Still, she didn’t ban the trolls or the spam. If she had the right to terrorize, they had the right to type.
If I just leave chat and play a few more games it’ll settle, right?
What they needed was time to calm down. She should be the understanding one. Ugh.
She shook her head side to side, debating one more game, when—
Ding—!
The unusually polite tone for a viewer made her check the name again.
Super familiar… wait.
“Momoji?”
Momoji?
The only person who’d kindly read her chat when everyone else ignored the wall of coaching text. The angel who’d taken her side when the whole room pointed fingers and called her a sniper.
Even if she did autopsy my chat later and betray and roast me.
That night she couldn’t sleep and kicked the blanket all day…
Seeing Momoji made her feel weirdly glad and bubbling at the same time. Good or bad—she didn’t even know herself. Puberty?
“What is it….”
She asked a little sulkily.
Coaching?
She always gave careful coaching… Even the day of the autopsy she’d gone with pure good intentions. She’d gone to dump a cheerful wall of text and gotten wrecked instead. Too embarrassed to ever enter that room again.
“Jesus…”
So freebies were over.
“Hm?”
Asking a merchant for the price first. Reeked of sucker.
She decided to personally teach the lesson: Live like that and people will take advantage of you!
Something she needed right now that was rare… yeah, that would do.
“Give me ranked… Arena Coins and I’ll do it.”
Coins!
She needed the Arena Coins you got from ranked. Her ranked games were so few she was desperately short. Customizing signature weapons took hundreds of Arena Coins, and the max per game was only six. She currently had a little over 160.
“Yes! How many can you give?”
“Holy crap. Yesyesyesyes.”
Heh heh.
Just for teaching Deadzone she was getting these precious coins. Five hundred was more than a hundred games could farm.
Yes! Time to dress up my signature guns!
“Hee.”
Hmph. Donations don’t mean anything to her.
Winchester (Win34) or MF5 first…?
A little hum slipped out on its own.