I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 195 – Yoo Jin on Fire

The hardest thing in the world was to create something, while the easiest thing was to destroy something.

The California gas field, created through the collaboration of numerous experts in the field, along with extensive data and a significant investment, had countless safety devices. This was because any malfunction would result in severe losses.

For instance, an automatic pipe locking system was installed to prevent leaks, and special treatments were applied to prevent ignition from static electricity, among other measures.

However, all it took to ruin everything was a large wildfire and the effort of one person.

[Warning: Pipe compartment blocking system damaged.]

First, the blocking system designed to prevent the flames from spreading along the pipes was damaged. As the above-ground pipe system was exposed to the flames and the pipes broke, it was inevitable for the fire to spread along them like blood through veins.

Due to the lack of any subsequent measures, temperature control was impossible, and the vaporized gas climbed into the tank, following the high temperatures. Just like poison traveling through veins to the heart, the spreading flames moved quickly.

The system that detected the temperature and blocked or bypassed the infiltrated pipeline, or at least preemptively released the vaporized gas, had long since malfunctioned due to prolonged neglect. Additionally, the central control fire extinguishing system was destroyed by human hands.

The dump truck, with its brakes and airbags removed by human hands, was heading straight for disaster, and soon it reached the critical point.

And then—

───!

Boom.

In an instant, a part of the map turned into a massive kill zone.

“A huge explosion just lit up the mountains! One-tenth of the entire map is engulfed in flames!”

People gaped in awe as if they were on an amusement ride.

Those who had watched KSM recognized what this was an homage to and showed belated expressions of disbelief, but this time, Dice was not the culprit. It was merely a collective effort of many.

Describing the entirety of the incident would fill about ten A4 sheets, detailing the depiction and responsibility distribution, but all of it could be summarized in one sentence: ‘They fought in a building equipped with a control system, destroying all the devices.’

However, regardless of everything, there was no need to hold anyone accountable for what had already happened.

The dynamics had shifted.

“While no players died from the major revolution, the new inferno sparked by the explosion is expected to accelerate the spread of the kill zone in the northeastern area. Currently, there are a total of 11 players directly or indirectly within the affected area, including the Korean players Dice and RedPepperHotKimchi.”

“Dice is almost the only player positioned in the north in this match. With the game entering the mid-to-late stage, he has secured 3 kill points, which is an excellent result.”

“This player has previous experience creating a revolution on the same map during KSM. It’s likely that he will use that experience to handle the situation even more skillfully this time.”

The expected end time displayed on the ceiling—essentially the predicted moment when the kill zone would engulf the entire map—was clearly reduced from before.

Many players hurriedly moved to safe zones and areas not yet engulfed by the flames. The 46 scattered players moved quickly across the shrinking map.

Individual strategies, meticulously planned, were disrupted by the sudden addition of new variables.

In simple terms, if an explosion occurred in the north, causing more players than expected to head south early on, there could already be someone occupying the building they planned to enter when the kill zone narrowed.

Japan, which had suffered significant losses from such changes in rankings using this method the previous day, reacted obsessively, pushing even harder to counter Russia’s tactics.

The game’s tempo started to speed up overall.

In other words, the kill logs began to rise so quickly that it was difficult for the casters and commentators to explain everything in detail.

“Taiwan’s Stinger player turns China’s Dorothy player’s vehicle into a sieve! The double barrage of the turret linked to the machine gun proves effective—Oh, just as I was saying, mortar turret shells rain down on Stinger’s position!”

As the urgency increased, the gameplay became more standardized and simplistic.

It meant it became easier to predict.

This made it easier to block incoming paths in advance or deploy means to project firepower on those routes. Such sitcom-like scenes occurred repeatedly. Someone would hit the back of the person who had hit someone else, and then another person would appear to hit that person’s back.

After a few repetitions, it was amusing; after five or six times, it became tedious, but after more than fifteen times, it turned into bewilderment.

How much time had passed like that?

In just a few minutes, the player density was halved.

[Remaining players: 22]

“In just 7 minutes, the number of players drops below half. Currently, we are two stages away from the final kill zone, but many players have already been devoured by the California wildfire. I’m already curious about how this match will end.”

“As the final battle intensifies, the characteristic incendiary weapons of the California gas field map are starting to appear. It means the match is nearing its end.”

About twenty players crowded within the small circle.

Engagements occurred around the ridges and a few low-rise buildings. The concrete walls never had a day of peace, being riddled with bullets and explosives, and incendiary grenades bursting from balconies quickly spread fire everywhere.

As the ring narrowed, the stinging flames and thick smoke spread in all directions. Even the slightest vigorous movement quickly depleted the oxygen levels shown in the UI, and any lack of attention to breathing control drastically lowered MOA.

Thus, around twenty players were reduced to half, and within an even shorter time, halved again. The final engagement was less about who fought better and more about who had superior survival skills.

Five players, trapped in a whirlwind of flames, burned their last efforts.

And then—

“Going crazy.”

This map always made me feel like I was placed in a world on the brink of an apocalypse. At least, that’s what Dice—I—thought. Looking around, all I could see was fire, fire, and more fire.

At the start of the match, there were still buildings visible, but now, it was just fire everywhere.

Today’s final kill zone was a building and a portion of the surrounding mountain. The crackling sound that seemed to induce neurosis and the red light that made my eyes sting were terrifyingly realistic. Smoke swirled before my eyes.

By this point, there were many obstacles. Night vision goggles and other items used to see in the dark were discarded long ago. Towards the end, everyone wore the hooded gas masks commonly found on this map.

These silver, glittering gas masks could cover your entire head, but they severely restricted your actions. Visibility was limited, breathing became difficult, and carrying an oxygen tank added extra weight during combat.

Yoo Jin had once said:

‘From now on, you’ll learn how to handle combat situations under low-oxygen conditions.’

This was the most direct example.

Low-oxygen conditions weren’t complicated. Whether you wore an uncomfortable gas mask, fought in areas where fire was rampant, or faced both situations, you learned how to act in such conditions.

The theories learned and the training embedded in muscle memory came into play effectively in actual combat.

The smallest detail could determine victory or defeat.

‘When wearing a gas mask or a full-body fire suit, first check if you can aim smoothly. The sensation will definitely be different.’

As she said.

What hadn’t been an obstacle before now became one. The red purifier sticking out and the plastic visor in front of my eyes were enough to mess up my aim. Moreover, the ever-present lack of oxygen affected my breath control.

If I hadn’t spent several hours a day, for days on end, preparing for these situations, I wouldn’t have been able to stay so calm now.

───Rustle.

When the fire drew near, my attention shifted. Therefore, my movements were more linear and bold than usual. As long as I wasn’t directly exposed to the enemy’s aim, it didn’t matter much.

I held my gun at a 45-degree angle, ready to turn on the tactical light with my thumb at any moment. Normally, I didn’t use it to avoid revealing my position, but this too was influenced by a certain someone.

‘In a place like the gas field, where fire is everywhere, people’s eyes fall into two categories. They’re either exhausted from seeing too much fire, or they’re not used to bright light after waiting in the dark… But in either case, a tactical light can be highly effective.’

An all-too-familiar room clearing.

The tactical light turned on as I aimed around the corner. The unique sensation transmitted through my finger pressing the button coincided with the enemy’s bullets flying across the corridor. Yet, none hit their mark. Ironically, they all missed.

Seeing this, sometimes I wondered if Yoo Jin was truly a god of combat. She knew everything. Experiencing this learning firsthand made me inevitably follow her curriculum.

I quickly closed the distance. Being a step ahead of the enemy’s expectations always had a significant effect, and this time was no different. Before I knew it, I was only a few meters away from the enemy.

I aimed at the quickly retreating enemy.

And here, the reason for tilting the gun at a 45-degree angle became clear.

‘Gas masks can severely hinder your aim. In some cases, it may be difficult or impossible to press your face against the sight. In such situations, a canted sight is very effective.’

As she said.

The distant sight worked effectively.

With a slight pull of my finger on the trigger, the recoil traveled up my shoulder. The red dot beyond the red dot sight revealed the sight of an enemy crumpling to the ground as if their spine had folded. They flailed on the floor before disappearing from the lobby. For a user who made it into the top 5, it was a rather anticlimactic end, but that wasn’t my concern.

I needed to gather only what I needed and get out of the burning building. I put a few red grenades that had fallen on the floor into my pouch.

Napalm grenades. The name itself was terrifying.

‘The final engagement is on the mountain ridge.’

Already filled with flames, gunshots echoed from the other side.

While dealing with the enemies inside the building, I inadvertently became a new enemy C to those on the other side. But it was certain that whoever was there had the capability to respond to such a situation.

Moreover, Yoo Jin was definitely among the remaining two. That was as certain as the sun rising after nightfall. Personally, I wanted to win this time through a proper battle.

Of course, that was just my wish.

I wanted it, but whether it was achievable was another matter.

It was time to advance.

[Warning: Entering high-temperature environment.]

Crossing the blazing flames, I headed towards the area where the gunfire had almost ceased. I fiddled with the napalm grenade, preparing to pull the pin, while searching for a silhouette amidst the flames.

By then, the number of remaining players on the UI had dropped to two. It seemed the winner had already been decided. I moved as quietly as possible and hid behind a tree that hadn’t caught fire yet.

I threw a combination of napalm grenades and a seeker mine. Pressing the button, I threw the napalm grenades in the opposite direction at the same time—simultaneously. Yoo Jin had once shown a bizarre tactic of deflecting grenades with the stock of her rifle when thrown sequentially.

The napalm grenades flew in an arc, and the motor of the seeker mine on the ground started running.

There was no turning back.

───Sizzle!

The motor whirred as the seeker mine scoured the path, leaping into the air and scattering incendiary mines everywhere. At the same time, Yoo Jin emerged from cover with unbelievable speed and locked eyes with me.

In that moment, both our guns fired.

I couldn’t understand why my position was exposed, but I accepted it. What mattered was my next move, and the napalm grenades were already on the ground, mere 0.5 seconds away from their characteristic fierce explosion.

Then boom.

The yellow explosion swept across Yoo Jin’s figure.

“Ouch!”

Perhaps due to eye fatigue, I couldn’t bear to look at the rising flames with my bare eyes, so I quickly blinked.

Amid the chilling yellow flames of napalm, distinct from the wildfire, a human-sized blaze was visible behind the tree. Assuming it was Yoo Jin, she threw something fiery in all directions.

Upon closer inspection, it was magazines and… grenades?

A sense of foreboding hit me.

Come to think of it, napalm grenades weren’t lethal by their explosion alone—

-Ratat!

“Wow. This is unbelievable… truly unbelievable.”

A human-shaped flame emerged from behind the tree in an instant.

Despite being engulfed in flames, blue lights seemed to flicker through the fireproof plastic visor coated with napalm. The living flame aimed a gun at me.

And then the unimaginable happened.

She was shooting while running towards me!

───Tat tat tat tat!

“No way—!”

It was clear.

Yoo Jin intended to kill me before her shield burnt out, and she had a good chance.

I aimed through the canted sight at Yoo Jin, sprinting and shooting while engulfed in flames, and pulled the trigger. We exchanged suppressive fire without the ability to dodge or hide.

The sound of fear dissolved between the gunshots.

How much time passed like this?

[Notification: You are the Apex Predator!]

The echoing gunfire that seemed to shake the mountains stopped, and silence fell.

The birth story of the Ghost Rider, no, Ghost Snake.