I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 68 – Refining

* * *

“What the heck. So you were here. Why are you already here, hyung? There’s still 30 minutes left before the scrim.”

“I came to rest, to rest. Practicing solo and squad every day, if I don’t rest like this, my body will wear out in no time. You guys should take note.”

“You’re not some old-timer, these days even guys with three days left in their service get dragged around. And with the start just around the corner, taking a break now is…”

Thud.

A sound of someone slumping into a soft chair could be heard.

Inside the debriefing room of an unopened scrim session, professional gamers affiliated with SSM were gradually filling up the seats, and with that, the noise of conversations was also gradually increasing.

Instead of sitting scattered here and there, they were sitting quite huddled together, continuing their various conversations. The main topics were naturally about the games. This was partly because the tournament was imminent and partly because of their profession.

The twelve members were split into three groups of four. The gaps between the groups were not wide, allowing for easy exchange of opinions.

The reason for sitting like this was simple: most of them were AP squad players who also did AP soloing.

Even though Dark Zone was popular and many clubs made enormous profits through e-sports held in it, there was a limit to financial resources.

Moreover, there was no need to operate separate professionals for soloing and squads within the same game, which would be an unnecessary waste of budget.

Of course, this meant there were exceptions to some extent—those who consistently produced results enough to contribute to the club or possessed enough star quality to act semi-independently.

One such person was Dice.

Unlike other sports where teammates could cover some of one’s shortcomings, AP soloing, where one had to rely solely on themselves, was extremely difficult to maintain a steady career.

This meant that many professionals could shine like supernovas in this area and then be replaced in an instant, while those who consistently shone brightly would achieve tremendous glory.

Perhaps that was why she was quite a topic even among the professionals in the same club.

Specifically, she was often mentioned in such situations.

“By the way, where is Dice? She usually shows up around this time. What’s she doing today?”

“She’s probably practicing. Maybe it’s because she got eliminated at 85th place in the research facility map yesterday? Anyway, she’s logged into Dark Zone.”

“Was she motivated by that Yoo Jin girl?”

“Could be.”

The topic naturally flowed in that direction.

Besides the four who were working as a team, other team members also participated in the conversation, freely expressing their opinions.

“Where do you think she’s going? Do you think she’ll come here?”

“Even after using her wildcard, she got rejected by the higher-ups at SSM. There’s no way she’d join us. Xi, TK1, or Reaper Infected would have taken her long ago. You know how they always have extra rosters ready.”

“Who knows. Maybe she’ll bomb the scrim today or the prelims in KSM tomorrow. Other clubs would have thought that far too.”

“By that logic, how do you know she won’t break through the prelims and show up in the finals?”

“She hasn’t shown much yet. To be honest, she participated in the scrim for the first time yesterday. I’ve seen her records, but we need to see how her career goes in the long run.”

“She got first place in 15 out of 23 matches, isn’t that enough to prove?”

“Fine, I concede. Damn it.”

Arguments ensued.

The fact that she hadn’t shown much meant there was room for imagination—but everyone agreed that her skills were exceptional.

More than ten of the hundred participants in the scrim were professional gamers, and others’ tiers were also Medal of Honor or TIER 1. TIER 2 was merely a qualification to participate in the scrim.

Therefore, they were particularly looking forward to today’s scrim.

Was what she showed yesterday just luck, or was it the beginning of her debut?

As the time for the scrim’s start approached, curiosity about her and the unusual lateness of Dice only grew.

When the opening time came—

“Ugh… I don’t think I can do the scrim today…”

“That’s not happening.”

Everyone had to suppress their surprise when they saw Dice, drooping like a yellow jellyfish, being carried on Yoo Jin’s back.

—[Notification: Gas bomb detonated. All personnel move to XA2 zone.]

—[Notification: Being tracked.]

“….”

Despite numerous patches, the fundamental essence of AP didn’t change.

New terrain, new guns, changes in weapon damage and accuracy, and added variables didn’t obscure the essence of battle royale.

On the contrary, these patches quickly identified those who adapted to changing circumstances, aligning perfectly with the genre’s purpose.

Ultimately, adaptation was for survival, and thus, survival was victory.

Although the drop phase had just ended, gunfire already filled the surroundings. Each flash from a muzzle meant a player was eliminated.

Even if one hid in a building right after landing to increase survival chances, they couldn’t completely avoid accidental encounters. They could only hope to delay the first encounter as long as possible.

That was what it had been.

Every player had their own strategy for the game. Some hid with minimal armament right after landing, while others actively hunted before the second skirmish.

As for me, I used to focus on identifying enemy positions while avoiding early unnecessary fights, then hunting them one by one. But like all tactics, this had its issues.

It was a tracker’s skill, meaning I was weak in direct confrontations.

A dilemma.

I had always pondered whether to supplement this weakness or hone my strengths since becoming a professional gamer.

The distance with the tracker neither shortened nor lengthened.

But considering the common scrim logic, the tracker likely wanted the secondary benefits of tracking me rather than a direct confrontation.

Not moving meant inevitable combat, and constantly moving increased exposure risk.

It was a dilemma I had to avoid.

───Ping!

The now familiar sound of bullets tearing through the air echoed in my ears. The shooting noise and the sensation of bullets hitting my back were not pleasant. The bottom left nanomachine gauge dropped alarmingly fast.

It was the worst-case scenario I feared. Being tracked and attracting unwanted attention while escaping.

A hunter was weakest when hunted.

“…Hah…!”

However.

If it were usual, I would have thought I was unlucky and decided to struggle desperately. But perhaps because of the experiences I had earlier—this time, I was seeing a bit more.

Considering more possibilities, focusing on what I could control, and calmly handling the situation without haste.

One experience a few hours ago wouldn’t change everything dramatically. But recently, there hadn’t been a time when every moment was a crisis, and I gritted my teeth and overcame the hurdles.

Maybe, just recalling that memory would help.

───Crash!

“…!”

The moment I entered the opposite building after crossing the sky bridge, a silenced bullet hit me as if someone was ambushed.

The nanomachine gauge dropped to near zero. It might take minutes to fully recover.

With the distance to the tracker closing in, moving forward was challenging.

Leaning against the wall, I took a deep breath. It was a critical situation. Usually, at this point, I would give up on survival and prepare for the next match.

But.

Wasn’t this exactly why I did that mission?

The enemies wouldn’t be fools.

And if both knew my location, assuming the worst, I had to consider if breaking through was possible—no, it didn’t matter.

It wasn’t about if I could; I had to.

—Crackle.

I heard the sound of a seeker mine rolling and quick footsteps chasing it. Another dilemma. If I intercepted the seeker mine, I’d be exposed to the following enemy, and if I prepared for the enemy, I’d take severe damage.

But as long as it didn’t completely kill me, it was fine.

As the seeker mine rounded the corridor, I gritted my teeth and ran forward.

A blinding white flash and sparks erupted.

—[Notification: Health dropped below 5%.]

I threw myself into the corridor and aimed.

Though my vision was blurred and flickering, I could vaguely make out the figure of the user running towards me.

Since I appeared faster than expected, the enemy was running without even aiming, and the MP7A1 spewed about 40 rounds of armor-piercing bullets.

As the enemy fell, I reloaded. It was a natural action driven by survival instinct, not reason.

Simultaneously, I aimed and fired at the tracker who was slowly entering the corridor, aiming at head level.

It didn’t take long for both enemies to become corpses.

───Click.

“Hah….”

Once I confirmed no other enemies were around, I relaxed.

As the focus I had mustered vanished, confusion enveloped my body. My vision flickered and slowly recovered.

As the non-combat situation began, the HP bar leisurely filled. I scavenged the bodies for recovery ampoules and injectors, and the recovery speed increased.

Barely recovering myself, I leaned against the wall, trying to steady my dizzy vision, and exhaled deeply again. If the previous breath was a mental resolution, this one was a sigh of relief.

Somehow, I seemed to hear the familiar voice of the Anaconda—Seopentia user.

That’s how you survive.

“…I really can’t take this anymore…”

Skills improve when facing limits.

Thus, Yoo Jin was refining the students today as well.