Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Not a Self-Deprecating Broadcast
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“This is our situation. Thank you all so much for coming.”
I started by expressing my gratitude to my companions who had so readily joined me.
The brave trio of comrades sat side by side on crates of supplies.
Perhaps because of this update, everyone was dressed in uniforms from World War II.
Ttalgwi and I wore Soviet uniforms, while Ghost and Wardaddy were in American ones.
Fortunately, none of the three seemed awkward around each other.
Ttalgwi’s cheerfulness, Ghost’s politeness, Wardaddy’s brazenness. Their differing personalities meshed together perfectly.
I figured they’d get along well even with the NPC Irina.
With those expectations, I pointed at Ttalgwi and began explaining the plan.
“There’s an NPC in Frontline who looks just like you, Ttalgwi. I want to find that NPC and keep her safe.”
“Huh? You’re going to rescue an NPC? One that looks like me? Why?”
“It’s... a personal matter. Sorry, I can’t go into details.”
“Hehe, what are you planning to do by protecting an NPC that looks like me? You know you get banned for skinship with NPCs, right?”
“......”
I averted my gaze from Ttalgwi as she wriggled her body playfully.
Reacting to that kind of embarrassing joke would just rile up the viewers.
Sure enough, “Oh yeahs” started popping up one by one in the chat.
I turned to Ghost, who was sitting at the edge, and hurried to continue.
“But I’ve only played three regular games so far. They say I need two more to join Frontline. I’m anxious going alone, so I wanted to ask for your help.”
“Of course we’ll help with that. So, you plan to play Domination then?”
“Yes, I think so. Survival mode only counts if you successfully escape, right? We can’t afford trial and error when we don’t even know the operation area.”
“Understood.”
The best option available to me right now was to play Domination.
Survival mode could fulfill the Frontline prerequisite too, but unfortunately, there were no viewers familiar with it at the moment.
The update had changed the operation areas, so I couldn’t count on audience help either.
In a situation like this, it was better to choose the sure method, even if it meant taking some risk.
“Kid, is that info verified?”
Just then, Wardaddy, who had been quietly listening, asked softly.
When I gave him a puzzled look, he glanced around at the surrounding NPCs and continued.
“Where’d you hear about that NPC even existing?”
“Uh... one of the viewers told me...”
“That’s what I’m saying—is it reliable? Make sure before you go crying later.”
“......”
Wardaddy’s suspicion was reasonable.
Especially since the viewer ‘Jäger’ who had told me had already left the stream.
But from my position, I didn’t need to worry about whether the info was true.
The possibility that a precious comrade was alive had been dangled in front of me. Even if it turned out to be false, I had to check it myself.
Wardaddy was probably just worried I’d be disappointed.
With gratitude in my heart, I tried to answer calmly.
“I don’t fully trust the info either. I just want to see for myself.”
“Got it. But you okay jumping into World War II?”
“Uh, yeah... As long as it’s not the Eastern Front. Rotterdam wasn’t so bad, right?”
“Not so bad? You were rampaging like a mad dog.”
“......”
Either way, the fact that I had to play two rounds of Domination didn’t change.
I shot Wardaddy a glare before trudging over to the Domination registration desk.
Soon, an NPC spotted me, adjusted her glasses, and spoke up.
Surprisingly, the registrar NPC was dressed in a Soviet uniform.
“Will you enlist for Domination?”
“Yes. But can I choose the battlefield?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Ah... Still, please send me to the Western Front if possible...”
“We’ll consider it. Would you be okay joining the Axis powers?”
“Huh? No way? Are you crazy?”
“My apologies. Your enlistment for the Allied forces has been completed. Please head to the battlefield shortly.”
“Ah! S-Sorry... I didn’t mean to swear...”
“It’s fine.”
She’d suddenly said something ridiculous, and the curse slipped out.
It seemed the system was designed to prevent people like me from playing as the Germans.
I felt relieved by the game’s consideration, but sorry for the NPC who’d taken the abuse.
As I grabbed her arm and kept apologizing, she surprisingly gave a gentle smile.
“There’s no need for Ms. Chernakoshka to apologize. Axis affiliation is highly divisive. Your reaction was perfectly understandable.”
“Y-Yeah... Thanks for understanding...”
“Basic gear will be issued automatically upon entering the battlefield. A transport vehicle to the field has just arrived.”
“Ah, okay. I’ll be off then.”
“We pray for the Operator’s victory.”
Fortunately, it hadn’t been reported as verbal abuse.
I’d nearly faced in-game penalties, so both I and the viewers breathed a sigh of relief at her forgiveness.
They don’t care if you shoot them dead with guns, but verbal abuse and sexual harassment are strictly forbidden.
It suddenly hit me that this was a game world.
“Yesss!! No heli spawn!!”
“Ttalgwi... There were no transport helicopters in World War II...”
“Ahh...”
And so, we boarded the transport vehicle and headed to the battlefield.
Some viewers mentioned a “nickname bug,” but with no clue what that meant, I decided to ignore it.
Soon, we emerged from a dark, long tunnel, and the battlefield sprawled out before us.
Our clothes and gear had changed before we knew it, and other transport vehicles began following behind and in front.
But our eyes were inevitably fixed straight ahead, as if by agreement.
Tens of thousands of NPCs stood in formation across the vast beach.
It was clearly set in World War II, but even for me, it was an astonishing sight I’d never seen before.
No PDA either, so I had no idea where we were.
“The enemy invasion has completely collapsed the Western Front!”
Just then, the driver NPC bellowed, answering my question.
Instead of a PDA, it seemed the NPCs would brief us on the operation.
Learning it was the Western Front put my mind at ease.
I let out a sigh of relief and focused on the NPC’s words.
“The Germans have encircled the outskirts of the operation area! Buy time for the British to withdraw! The success of the Dunkirk Evacuation rests in your hands!”
Dunkirk Evacuation.
I’d never experienced it myself, but I’d heard of it.
A massive operation to rescue isolated Allied troops after Nazi Germany’s invasion of France.
It was far from the Eastern Front, so I didn’t know the details, but even I’d heard the rumors that Hitler had screwed up.
Come to think of it, our uniforms and weapons had switched to French ones.
I stared blankly at the wooden stick in my hand and muttered.
“This is an antique...”
“A Lebel rifle. The enemy will have Kar98s, though. The balance is way off.”
“How are we supposed to fight with firewood...”
“Better borrow a Lee-Enfield from the British NPCs on the beach.”
It wasn’t just me annoyed by the gun—Ghost tossed his rifle aside as he replied.
He signaled the driver, steering the transport toward the beach.
Soon, the NPCs on the sand turned toward us with terrified expressions.
We jumped out and headed to the nearby British troops.
“Sukka, is this gun really that bad? Isn’t it just like a Mosin-Nagant?”
Then Ttalgwi, fiddling with her Lebel, said something absurd.
I narrowed my eyes in disbelief and responded.
“Ttalgwi... I didn’t think you were clueless. I’m disappointed...”
“Huh? What? Did I mess up?”
“This isn’t a gun.”
“I-It isn’t?”
I stopped in front of Ttalgwi to explain the Lebel’s flaws.
I’d nearly died using one before, so I couldn’t let the “like a Mosin-Nagant” comment slide.
From the reload mechanism onward, dozens of drawbacks came to mind.
I worked the Lebel’s bolt back and forth and opened my mouth.
“See this? I cycled the bolt, but it didn’t reload. I died because of this—”
But I couldn’t finish explaining—I had to dive for cover.
“Get down!!”
“Kyaa!! Sukka?!”
My body reacted first to the familiar noise.
Yelling to hit the deck, I grabbed Ttalgwi and rolled across the sand.
At my shout, the tens of thousands of NPCs on the beach urgently ducked as one.
From the direction of the noise, they flopped down in chaos, like waves made of soldiers.
Horrible screams, desperate cries. Amid the terror loomed the shadow of death.
The sudden fearful situation left no room to resist—I blacked out.
“Sukka!! Are you okay?!”
Panic gripped me again, narrowing my vision.
This nightmare dwarfed all previous panics.
My whole body froze solid—I couldn’t even breathe.
To escape the panic, memories flashed by like a montage.
“Snap out of it!! Sukka!!”
My first panic: I’d despaired, thinking I’d been possessed again.
So I’d tried suiciding multiple times to escape the game.
Second panic: Rage at a comrade about to die.
I’d fought bravely, risking my life to save her.
Third panic: Calm thanks to trained instincts.
I’d regained composure like against snipers and seized victory.
Fourth panic: Thrilled by lingering reflexes.
I’d rampaged wildly to protect my following allies.
“It’s Stukas! Everyone down!”
But against the trauma now screaming in, no action was possible.
In this fifth panic crashing down,
- WEEooo────
All I could feel from the siren overhead was overwhelming terror.