The Arrow That Chases
The arrow was chasing me.
From the instant it left the bowstring, an arrow that should have followed only its predetermined path was pursuing me as if it possessed a will of its own. What kind of nightmare was this? Why wouldn’t that arrow miss me? Had someone tied an invisible string to my back without my knowledge? Was that why it kept following me to the very end of the line?
“Urgh!”
An arrow slammed into my shoulder as I fled desperately, turning the entire world before my eyes a vivid red. Every last shield had shattered. Two arrows remained. In the worst case, even one could finish me. But it was fine. I had made it inside the building. No matter how monstrous Ara’s arrows were, they couldn’t pierce through solid walls.
I steadied my ragged breathing, thick with rising terror, and used an item to restore my shields.
The reason we had all sniped Ara together was simple. We wanted to bring down that monster of a human. We wanted to prove ourselves in front of the countless viewers watching the stream and become the center of discussion. That was why we had cheered when we matched into Ara’s lobby. Even someone like her had to use the same character as everyone else inside Epic Legend. In a battle royale FPS, numerical superiority was overwhelming. If we stuck together, we believed even Ara would have no way to endure.
We had hunted pro players using the same tactic before, so we had been confident. But that had been a colossal delusion.
When you try to measure a monster who exists beyond common sense using the yardstick of ordinary logic, the frame will never fit. Just as the weapons needed to hunt a rabbit and a lion are completely different, hunting a monster requires a weapon suited to the task. Fail to bring one, and the only fate left for the hunter is to become the prey.
I was currently paying the price for underestimating my opponent.
The six hunters who had begun the match had already been reduced to three—including me. Not a single death had held any meaning. One had danced helplessly under three consecutive arrows, only to die after warning the rest of the danger. Another had emptied his magazine at Ara without landing a single shot before a bullet pierced his skull. The last had been struck by an arrow moments ago, screamed for help, and lost his voice forever. Every one of them had died a dog’s death.
While three of us were sacrificed, we failed to leave so much as a scratch on Ara. We hadn’t made any lasting impression on her or her viewers, nor had we gained any useful information. What possible meaning could those deaths have held?
The three remaining snipers had already stopped talking to one another. When even grouping together felt insufficient, we had scattered to survive on our own. The hunter named Ara had only grown more secure. At this rate we would simply endure until we died meaningless deaths.
Time to counterattack. Even if I died, I would land at least one bullet before I went. No matter how monstrous her physical ability was, she was using the same character as the rest of us. A stray bullet would send her to the graveyard just like anyone else.
I gripped my favorite firearm and steeled my resolve. At that exact moment, the sound of a bowstring releasing echoed from far away. Since the shot couldn’t be aimed at me, it had to be targeting someone else. Perfect. With Ara’s attention turned elsewhere, this was my chance. While her focus was elsewhere—
Huh?
The screen flooded red. What? Where had the arrow come from? Had it actually pierced the wall? How?
As the screen slowly darkened to black, the only thing left to me was the right to wonder.
“To think the ones who revealed themselves specifically to hunt me believed they had skill. Not a single one was worth remembering.”
It was truly lamentable. Lambs who did not know their place had stepped forward to become hunters. Was that not more pitiful than amusing? At least they had the sense to flee desperately, so the hunt held some flavor, yet none of them had posed any real threat. To be unable to utilize numerical superiority any better than that.
“Well then, shall we go greet the one who’s still hiding?”
Two survivors remained besides myself. Whichever they were, both seemed to be cowering inside buildings, wasting time while waiting for others to die. No one in the chat was talking about Enri’s death yet, so one of the two survivors had to be her.
Figuring out which survivor was Enri wasn’t particularly difficult. I could tell simply by looking at the energy flowing around them. The aura that surrounded Enri was something I encountered every single day; there was no way I would miss it. Still, this time I would refrain from using that method and leave it entirely to chance.
Whether the next person I encountered was Enri or not, it would surely be entertaining either way. Since they both appeared to be in the same building, I might as well bet on who I would meet first.
While secretly watching Ara and the others fight from outside the window, Enri began to seriously question whether this was really the Epic Legend she knew. Seeing arrows that ignored the laws of physics and flew however they pleased, she couldn’t help but doubt.
Just what kind of bow technique would make arrows behave like that? Even when she played god archer or spirit archer in Apis, she had never seen anyone shoot in such a bizarre way. So why was this kind of absurdity happening in an FPS game?
“Sorry, but Ara doesn’t have the brain capacity for that! The same person who didn’t know how to take a selfie until recently could never handle a hack program!”
“She’s younger than me age-wise, but she does have this oddly elderly aura sometimes.”
It was like she had never touched an electronic device in her entire life. There were plenty of other strange points too. Her handwriting was strangely old-fashioned. She ate like a wild animal, yet somehow carried an inexplicable grace. Her fashion sense was incredibly outdated, but her movements were impossibly clean and refined. Calling her grandma wouldn’t actually feel that wrong.
“I suppose so?”
“Exactly. She’s Ara. Thinking about it too hard will only tire us out.”
I should take her to an archery café sometime when the chance comes. If Ara agrees, filming a real-life vlog together might be fun.
Even while Enri chatted with her viewers, the arrows continued flying without pause, and the number of survivors steadily dwindled. By the time Ara finally stopped drawing her bow, only three survivors remained.
Whether Ara found Enri first or found the other player first would decide Enri’s final ranking. It was an incredibly important question for her right now.
The points Enri needed at this moment were eighty. Since she hadn’t managed to kill anyone this match, she would receive only the base ranking points with no kill bonuses. Second place in Epic Legend granted ninety-five base points, while third granted seventy. If Ara found her first, Enri would have to play another game. If Ara found the other survivor first, she would promote to Gold.
Right now, Enri’s fate rested entirely in Ara’s hands.
Please, Ara. Go find the other person first. I don’t want to be standing at the doorstep of Gold again. I don’t want my pride shredded to pieces by losing to you! So just send me straight to Gold! I’ll forget everything that happened today, I swear!
Whether Enri prayed or not, the footsteps echoing through the building moved according to their own will.
Is that Ara? Ugh. It sounds like she’s coming this way. No. I can’t die like this.
Enri swallowed hard and raised her firearm. It was true that Ara was an insurmountable nightmare, but this was still just a game character. With a bit of luck, maybe she could take her down.
That’s right! I can’t leave my fate in someone else’s hands! I will carve out my own destiny! I’ll make my own Gold rank with my own two hands!
Her excitement rising from the determination, Enri stood and prepared to fight. The footsteps were coming from the right corridor. If the person approached without suspicion, she could seize the initiative. She would aim down the sights, and the moment she saw a face, she would unload straight into the head. If the attack failed, she would retreat, spam grenades or smoke bombs to buy time, and run.
Thud.
Footsteps.
Thud. Thud.
The footsteps drew closer.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Right beside her.
It was coming.
Did it not know she was here? No. If it was Ara, she probably knew but simply didn’t see her as a threat. Aren’t you underestimating me a little too much?! I may be useless, but the assault rifle in my hands is anything but!
Enri held her breath after a deep inhale, finger steady on the trigger, then froze the moment the person appeared.
It wasn’t Ara.
It was the other survivor who had also been avoiding Ara, just like her.
“Eek.”
In the instant both of them fell into panic at the sight of each other, Enri recovered first. She had been ready to shoot whoever appeared, so she pulled the trigger without hesitation. In an FPS, the one who strikes first holds the advantage. The opponent, struck by Enri’s bullets, fled desperately in the opposite direction.
That was right. There was still a way to reach Gold without involving Ara. If she killed the remaining survivor besides Ara with her own hands, Enri would naturally promote.
“Stop right there! Be a good sacrifice for my Gold!”
Having realized this, Enri clenched her teeth and chased after the fleeing figure.