I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 175 ­ No One Can Hide

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“Ugh….”

My body was stiff, and my eyes were sore.

It was strange to hear such words coming from people barely in their 30s, but someone’s curriculum, too frightening to even speak of, dragged fantasies into the realm of reality.

One day passed, then two, and then three.

As we entered the third week, only a single day remained. By then, we naturally realized that not only simple and repetitive tasks but also complex and systematic routines were enough to make time vanish.

With the end of sweet rest, the usual routines descended upon us, the ones who bore the title of pro gamers. It was time to once again feel the weight of the pro status that we had briefly shed.

Normally, the intensity of the training we had been doing should have increased gradually, like getting soaked by a light drizzle. However, with Yoo Jin’s participation, the intensity increased faster than before. In other words, the fatigue we felt also increased proportionally.

But the increased “quantity” was just one of the problems.

“…Wow, what is this?”

Achieve a specified level of accuracy in lead shots in a specific area.

Kill a certain number of enemies while under the status effects caused by grenades and other explosives.

Achieve a specified level of accuracy in moving shots with a specific type of firearm.

Numerous bizarre conditions were listed endlessly. While these could occasionally be seen in previous training courses, it was different when all 19 national representatives, except for Yoo Jin, received different missions.

Yoo Jin collected all the play data of a single user, analyzed every habit and movement, and presented a curriculum that could enhance the strengths and trim or eliminate the weaknesses.

In just five days.

“…Does this person not sleep and just research?”

“I know, right.”

Her actions seemed to defy common sense.

She personally checked numerous data and constructed a raw, unpolished curriculum, which was therefore more effective.

To be honest, the strategy presented by the team alliance wasn’t particularly special. They simply shared opinions, absorbed the strengths of other teams’ strategies, and sought better methods.

In other words, if asked whether the presented strategy was dramatically different from the curriculum received by team-affiliated players so far, it would be hard to deny it easily.

Anyway, aside from some minor complaints from behind, time was passing without any significant issues.

Complaints and doubts about the curriculum or Yoo Jin naturally disappeared. The question of whether it was appropriate for her to sit in that position was inevitably erased once the engagement began.

No one had ever beaten Yoo Jin. Even Dice. Despite having selected the best from a mountain of jewels to assemble a team capable of competing with other countries, her divine position remained unshaken.

Regardless, everyone was busy. Even Yoo Jin. No, Yoo Jin was even busier. Recently, it had become difficult for her to even do personal training due to being busy with adjusting various things.

Yoo Jin and the twenty others became one with the shooting range and training area. Even the task force personnel who came to check if everyone was doing well got tired of watching and left.

However, as the work piled up, limits became apparent. There comes a point where it’s difficult to manage everything simultaneously. For Yoo Jin, that point came as the scrims with foreign users approached.

On the last day of the second week, in front of the 19 who had completed all the curriculum, Yoo Jin—I—stood on the podium just like the first day.

“Nice to see you all.”

I exchanged glances.

It hadn’t even been a week since the curriculum started, but seeing the change in everyone’s eyes, I could easily guess that there had been a significant mental shift. Specifically, they looked half-dead.

The beginning of everything comes from realizing that it’s not a joke but real. Breaking the self-imposed limits and paving the way forward is naturally harder. Especially considering their skills, it had to be.

Anyway, I wasn’t saying this out of the blue.

I waved my finger to display the screen.

“The third week is approaching tomorrow. In other words, the scrim is not far off. I believe you all have more experience in this area.”

Although there were some differences in the schedule compared to last year, the basic structure remained largely unchanged. From this point, professional gamers from countries furthest from the host country began to arrive in Korea.

They adapted to the time difference for a few days at the hotel, got used to the food, communicated with the people assigned by ICARUS Korea, and familiarized themselves with Korean equipment through the hotel facilities.

That was roughly the explanation.

But the important part was elsewhere.

“I heard that the scrim will be conducted in a unique format. The reason I gathered you here is because of that.”

All scrims are conducted with the first team of one country facing the second team of another country.

For example, including myself, Korea’s first team—the national representatives, in other words, the top 20 players—would face the second teams from Russia, Japan, the Chinese Federation, and Taiwan, meaning the players ranked 21st to 40th.

That made a total of 100 people. The minimum condition to establish an AP was met. The mock battle was conducted in this format. The first team would never face another first team directly, and the second team would only indirectly relay information about the first team.

In other words, the first team had to eliminate the second team members from other countries as quickly as possible to minimize the exposure of their strength and hide the top national representatives. Conversely, the second team members had to hold out as long as possible to gain more advantages.

Here comes the main point.

“Even though it’s been less than a week since I started teaching you, we need to toughen up the second team members as much as possible before the scrim. The curriculum priority will be temporarily reversed.”

Everyone seemed to get the hint.

But articulating it had a different weight.

“We have one week until the scrim and about two weeks until the Asian qualifiers, so your skills can grow sufficiently by then. However, the workload has increased, and Dice and I can’t cover the other twenty by ourselves.”

I had considered entrusting the training of the second team to the task force, but after much thought, the result was obvious.

Where money was involved, drastic movements or extreme attempts were naturally avoided. The fact that I was standing here was closer to an extreme challenge than just boldness.

In other words, the task force and I had different goals. It wasn’t a matter of direction, but purely a matter of aiming for a different height. We had to look further ahead.

The quicker we hit, the better results we could get.

In the process, everyone, including myself, would be pushed to their limits. An unprecedentedly brutal schedule awaited them. And that was only natural.

In the past, debriefing after an engagement was standard for me. Whether the engagement ended at 8 AM, 4 PM, or 6 AM, two hours of discussion and conversation were mandatory, and the word ‘circadian rhythm’ was erased from the dictionary.

Fortunately, VR had a function that accelerated time by three times, and I intended to use it thoroughly.

At least we would be able to sleep on time.

“Although I’ll have to rely on your yet-to-be-completed abilities, that part will naturally resolve itself.”

Swish.

At the same time, bright red hats, like those used by training camp instructors, were placed in everyone’s hands except for mine and Dice’s.

The reactions varied. Those who had served in the military laughed wryly, while those who hadn’t wondered what this was, or lightly stroked the shiny hats, having a vague idea.

Seeing that, I smiled lightly as well.

For the next two weeks, everyone would come to feel the weight of the hat.

I waved my hand and briefly explained the upcoming schedule. The length was more than double that of before. Naturally, interactions with the second-team players and personal training were entirely separate gears.

I added while watching their shocked expressions.

“It’s going to be a tough two weeks, so brace yourselves.”

Later, Dice would say in an interview that hearing those words felt like “a bus driver stepping on the gas pedal on a one-way road to hell.”

“…What’s going on? Why did they call all of us?”

Another twenty people cautiously walked into the training area.

They were not familiar faces. Unfortunately, they were the ones who narrowly missed becoming national representatives. The preliminary national representatives, ranging from 21st to 40th in KSM. Among them, there were quite a few who participated in last year’s Asian qualifiers.

Their expressions couldn’t be said to be bad, but they couldn’t be said to be good either. It was only natural for those left behind to feel that way. Moreover, aside from a few at the top, these players could also take the top spots at any time.

Anyway, that wasn’t the important part. They also knew what they had to do—though it wasn’t as intense as the actual national representatives, they too had interviews and scrim preparation schedules.

Moreover, today marked the start of the third week. National representatives from the country furthest from Korea would be arriving at Incheon Airport. There wasn’t much time left until the full-scale scrims began.

In such a situation, the sudden call for special training. It was natural for them to enter in a daze.

Of course, some had a rough idea.

“What’s with this all of a sudden… Hey, aren’t you Blooming from SSM? Why do you look so down?”

“…I have a bad feeling about this.”

“….”

Anxiety is contagious.

Especially if some people roughly guessed what was going to happen, the speed of contagion accelerated exponentially. The term “special training” seemed off. A professional gamer from SSM seemed to have figured out something. The strangely rising sense of unease.

What on earth was going to happen—the

curiosity quickly turned into ‘please tell me it’s not what I’m thinking,’ but unfortunately, the wave of truth and reality hit faster.

A foreboding voice echoed from the ceiling, and the surrounding space began to change rapidly.

­[Notice: A 40-person mock battle will start at this time.]

“What, what!? What’s this?”

“Just pick up your gun! Did you swap your wits for lunch?”

At the same time, a flash of light blinded us.

The next moment, the twenty people were scattered across a wide map—each placed separately. Even those who hadn’t noticed were forced to regain their senses within seconds by the sounds of gunfire all around. Those who instinctively grabbed their guns quickly scanned their surroundings.

A brief moment of silence. But it didn’t last long. For some reason, bright red hats were absurdly visible on the heads of enemies appearing one by one. Although they didn’t know who those enemies were, they soon found out.

They were the first-team members.

With madness and fatigue coexisting in their eyes.

───Drdrdrdr!

“No way, what the hell is this!?”

The muzzles spat fire. The firing pins struck the primers with force, releasing arrows and flames from advanced steel bows. Dozens of such shots per second. The projectiles crossed the air, hitting each other and transmitting massive physical force to the shields.

Thus began a literal brawl. Tactical maneuvers continued repeatedly in areas where objects were bizarrely placed, and gunfights broke out in narrow areas where long firearms were unusable.

All kinds of battles continued without end. Data accumulated one by one. Of course, the snake’s tail that slithered through them all hit both the fully analyzed first-team members and the second-team members equally.

Every type of engagement happened everywhere. Hundreds of invisible cameras watched them like Big Brother from the ceiling. The analysis engine under Yoo Jin was running.

The OT had begun.

And the second team began to notice changes in the first team.

‘…Something seems different from before.’

It wasn’t a dramatic change. It wasn’t like their physical abilities had improved to the point that an average person would notice. But conversely, those who were not average could notice the slight changes.

The second team wasn’t completely outmatched by the first team. In fact, the skill gap was barely a paper-thin margin. But when that paper-thin margin doubled, quadrupled, and octupled, the story inevitably changed.

Moreover, all KSM members knew the strengths and weaknesses of their opponents. It was like rock-paper-scissors. But now, a week later, the second-team players were feeling that their perception was off for some reason.

There should have been a reaction when hitting this spot, but there wasn’t. Even when they attacked what they thought was a weakness, the response was much more skillful than before.

This was no exaggeration. The first-team players were literally evolving into those with no weaknesses.

Of course, that growth rate could only be described as slight. To put it simply, it felt like the frequency of a ticklish person’s side being poked and them laughing had decreased compared to before.

But in just five days. For fellow pro gamers to noticeably experience such changes in less than a week was an unbelievable speed.

Well, be that as it may….

“Overturn everything!”

“Catch them, catch them!”

“Your good days are over, you chicks!”

“Why are these guys so nuts!”

The twenty people suddenly thrown into the engagement area couldn’t understand why these guys were so frustrated, even until the very end.

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