Sandstorms. Depending on the severity of the sandstorm, players' vision is drastically lowered from half to almost blindfolded. Several items allow players to look through the sandy turbulence, but people have to find them. Otherwise, unproperly geared players are on the edge of elimination. After victoriously surviving in the area with the richest loot and resources, each of us has a pair of electromagnetic goggles. I can see the fuzzy outlines of the obstacles in the environment and players, but every minute of usage comes with a three-minute cooldown. However, somebody is beating the system by carrying four pairs of goggles. As a sniper, she does not need to engage in close combat, thus her inventory only has a photon sniper rifle with the highest quality attachments, sixty bullets and some grenades. The developers intentionally design the sandstorm-resisting items to occupy plenty of inventory space, but they would never be able to anticipate Mirai's build. On the other ha
- Footsteps from the left, thirty metres. Yuusha, retreat to the container behind you on the right. I will back up if necessary. - Yes. help me slow them down with a grenade. The subsequent play zones shrink towards a construction site. While the colossal cranes, structures and buildings obstruct the view and make long-range weapons slightly disadvantaged, the dispersing construction equipment and material act as covers in close-quarter fights. Obstinate players can still stick to the idea of observing from the high ground; nevertheless, the sheer amount of obstacles, whose towering heights exceed the players', make it impossible to shoot a moving target. Moreover, the top of the buildings are mostly empty, so they risk getting shot by players camping on top of the opposite buildings. For some reason, Mirai does not want to switch to a close-range weapon. Sniper rifles with the correct attachments and modifiers can inflict a lethal headshot upon impact. Howeve
- Anything significant? - Nope. The play zone has shrunk so small, yet I see no traces of the final player. Anyway, let's keep moving. If he is a camper, we can outnumber him. If he is moving, he will accidentally be careless at some point. The match clock has shifted to the twentieth-thirtieth minute, meaning the endgame is near. Most, if not all, players will be equipped with the rarest and most powerful weapon and armour, reducing the effect of modifiers to the borderline. Lingering outside the play zone will result in an almost instantaneous health depletion to death, so the scenario that he is still outside is crossed out. The current play zone is a two-hundred-metre diameter circumference, situated outside an obscure building ground with cranes, containers and construction materials. The ground is even, and with no significantly tall buildings around, sniper rifle camping from high ground is out of the question. Keeping a two-hundred-metre distance fr
Mirai's hostile response is met with a quizzical head tilt. - Yes? I may or may not have seen you during the previous games, but this is the first time I come to greet the two of you. - I am pretty sure I also have never met him. - I add a remark. - Oh yeah, I forgot to enable your spectacles after the last maintenance. Here. - What do you mean by 'maintenance'? Since when did you... A transparent, black screen temporarily pops up on the glass. With the beeping sounds of configuration, my spectacles have returned to the operating state. And that is when I see a red, bolded number on his head. Ninety. I instinctively retreat the way Mirai did when she saw him and me conversing, except that I leap behind her, my hands grappling tightly on her shoulders like a coward. - So there is no point hiding, huh? Very well. Even though his cover is blown, his state of emotion is anchored in the seabed of calmness. With his unchanging face, he t
Suddenly, he remembered them. Those who beat him up badly in their first encounter, also his final mission. Those who held the utmost importance in retaliating against the Intruders, whose heads may have been placed a bounty on by the relentless extremists. And most importantly, when he thought that would be the last time he saw them, they met again as he brought them for a visit at the Huntly Mine. Although he did not observe them from the start, he knew that something big had happened while he was unconscious. He immediately realised that they had taken down one of the organisation's facilities at Huntly Mine only when police investigations resulted in the retrieval of samples he knew by heart just from the first sight. At the age of superior physical condition coupled with a turbulent state of mind, he quickly recovered from the bar explosion that day, but his unconscious cognition could not remove the image of them. After years of the organisation leading his nose, then sa
After the paid leave, we return to the construction site in the middle of nowhere again. Besides the mine that looked no different the day we first took the leave, the first thing we see is a frightened Maric holding a bunch of paper documents and running towards us. - Where have you been during the three days? For some reason, I cannot contact any of you, either by email, text messages or calls. - You look so pale and lifeless. Come, let's help you regain composure and we will talk. Mirai brings Maric back to the control room and gives her a cup of water. After she gulps a fifth of a litre in one shot, Maric takes a deep breath. - After what you said, at first, I was still doubtful. But, after I log into the association's system, most servers have been either disabled or closed down, except for the African region. I have attempted to mail the higher-ups, and they say that they are doing their best to contain the global insurgency, but soon, this contin
The sun is yet to rise from the dune afar. In the early morning sky glowing in a mystically red hue, a hovering motorcycle carrying three people breaks the stillness of the no man's land at the speed of a sprinting cheetah. Everywhere they move, clouds of sand are blown to the back by the powerful wind motors, creating a pattern similar to high-speed canoes riding waves. On the rider seat is no other than Mirai Sasaki, also the person who built this motorcycle, thus the only person who can ride it. Behind her are the two cowards, Yuusha Takahashi and Maric Mileva, each hugging the person in front of them tightly, their legs holding on to the body of the bike with their dear lives. The gusts passing through them are so strong, that without a pair of high-grade motorcycle goggles, their vision would be no better than being blindfolded. Unlike the pathetic riders, Mirai's auxiliary processors automatically filter out winds captured by her visual sensors, and thus she is the one enjo
We briefly describe to Mirai how we got the box. She curiously examines the box, and hears my observations about it, before concluding that we have insufficient evidence to crack it and putting the box into my backpack. The interior of the building is sombrely illuminated by occasional light bulbs along the aisles and inside rooms, perpetuating a mystic and threatening aura the deeper we delve into it. The primary map of the building is stored in Mirai's memory and projected onto my spectacles, so Maric is given the tablet to understand what is going on. Based on all of the occurrences, we conclude that with some lavish and unnecessary underlying mechanism, whenever we have obtained all clues from a room, it will no longer be accessible. While I place my hands on my chest, grateful that such a revelation tremendously shrinks the scope of our objective, the path ahead is still swamped with uncertainty. - Are we going to meander randomly forever like this? -