"The highest level of skill that must function flawlessly even in the harshest environnts... I now understand what they ant by saying that without guaranteed reliability, you can’t even enter the competition for procurent. After we return, we’ll have to consider more intense mock tests..."
"Right. Oh, speaking of which, I’m looking forward to the new 8.6mm Blackout ammunition. I heard it’s extrely quiet, but I’ll need to test if the power is proportional to the noise suppression, especially the ballistics."
"We’ve been carefully checking the videos uploaded by the review channels. They always manage to catch details that we, as developers, might overlook. I’ll be counting on you for that this ti as well."
November 4th, 12 PM.
The second day of the Sniper Competition began about two hours earlier than yesterday. While it was less noisy than the first day, the atmosphere was far sharper. All participants had firmly steeled themselves, now fully focused and determined to win.
However, separate from them, there were five pairs of eyes watching the event.
General Observers.
This year’s competition, which had grown nearly twice the size compared to the previous years, had recruited "observers," a type of audience not seen last year. The U.S. Departnt of Defense had conducted several votes to select these observers in recent weeks.
The first vote had been to select the five most representative professions from among those in the U.S., which led to the selection of one person each from politics, economics, arts, and content creation.
Afterward, the U.S. narrowed the list down to a few hundred individuals from those professions, conducting nurous background checks based on legal, accessible personal information, including personality and tendencies, before selecting five people.
One actor.
One lawyer.
One fashion expert.
One military-industrial complex developnt team leader.
One military-focused reviewer.
These five general observers, from various countries, were watching the competition live from a different perspective.
"Collins, doesn’t this kind of scene happen often when filming action movies? Of course, they probably use blank rounds or rely on CGI."
"Haha, it depends on the movie. It changes based on what kind of scene they’re shooting. Still, I’m no stranger to this, but... yesterday was truly impressive. Honestly, I think I’ll be overwheld by this atmosphere today as well."
"I understand. I also film videos for my channel where I shoot at various objects with guns or review newly released accessories, but compared to the real deal here, I wouldn’t even be able to hand out my business card."
Five people who would have never t under normal circumstances.
However, in this mont, their prior professions and positions were irrelevant. Here, they communicated freely without any barriers, exchanging their thoughts with ease.
"I was the federal prosecutor in charge of the Los Angeles area about 10 years ago. With my position, I didn’t do it often, but sotis I’d observe SWAT team training or watch police special forces in action through body cam footage, dealing with violent cri. It reminds of those tis."
"Haha, the direction here is a bit different, but there are also excellent snipers in places like that."
"That's true. But... I’ve never t so many professionals who can kill from such a long distance, without even seeing the target. It’s incredible."
Military reviewer.
Forr federal prosecutor.
Actor.
Military-industrial complex developnt team leader.
They exchanged words as they watched the progress of the operation unfold live through various caras, experiencing the scene with heightened awareness.
The first event on day two of the competition was Fire Support after CQB. A team made up of a spotter and a sniper had to clear a building full of holographic enemies, move to the roof, and provide support to a retreating friendly hologram while eliminating enemy holograms.
Unlike yesterday, which had tested human limits, today’s event was more standard. However, that also ant it was a highly probable scenario for snipers to encounter in real operations. And because of that, no team struggled in the slightest.
The four individuals (not five) were deeply impressed by what they saw.
"I don’t know much about close combat, but I can tell that all the participants here are highly trained. Even those from other countries. The Five Eyes aside, even countries outside of that group are impressive. Especially Korea."
"According to my network, for about a year, our country... South Korea has been providing more direct and indirect military support. It might have had so involvent in the excellent performance of the Korean team this year."
"Haha, that might be true. By the way, once this competition ends, we’re also going to try this event ourselves, but I’m not sure how well it’ll go, considering I’m over 50."
"Even at your age, many are still performing at active-duty levels. These days, age is just a number. Especially with the prosthetics, prosthetic arms, and alternative bodies recently released by Icarus Dynamics, they’re considered innovations of the next generation."
Various stories continued, but the mood remained lighthearted.
Around that ti, Olivia, who had been jotting down notes, paused her pen. It wasn’t just a small note; it was quite a significant amount. This was why the other observers hadn’t approached her—her focus was unshakable.
Her eyes never left the screen, and the intense concentration was palpable.
When the pause lasted just a mont, soone else, who had been watching her closely, quickly added to the conversation.
"Personally, I’ve been really curious to hear Olivia’s thoughts on this sniper competition. I’m glad I can finally ask. It’s Chris, the one you t yesterday."
"Oh, it seems like everyone’s been waiting for ."
"Haha, personally, I’m quite interested. It might sound like a stereotype, but I was thinking this might be a bit unfamiliar for you. But that could also allow you to see it from a new perspective. Your opinion on this would likely sound fresh to us, since we’re a bit more set in our ways."
At that, Olivia’s yellow eyes subtly shifted.
Her gaze was almost predatory, like that of a hunter, sending a chill down the spine of anyone who t her gaze. It passed over them as sharply as if a predator had just scanned its prey before vanishing—though she paid no attention to it.
A few facts had beco clear. The four people sitting next to her had clearly not looked at her Grams. How many guns had she fired in Hawaii, how many videos had she uploaded—though, they were people she’d just t the other day. They might only know superficial details.
With that in mind, Olivia thought about how much she would reveal in this mont.
She had many options and felt no particular need to hide anything. She could pretend to know nothing like a stereotypical clueless person, or she could be direct and reveal everything she knew, enjoying the looks of surprise from others.
She didn’t dwell on it long.
She decided to speak her mind.
"This sniper competition is the largest in the last 10 years, and because of that, I believe it’s difficult to predict the winners. In that sense, the current first mission may not have much differentiation, but overall, it feels more like a warm-up."
"...Ah, I see. That’s quite a detailed analysis."
"The sniper missions yesterday—shooting at unspecified distances, long-range sniping, and random firearm assembly and shooting—today’s missions are CQB followed by fire support, friendly fire rescue, and testing new drones and sniper turrets... Physical exertion is an important factor, but I think the main difficulty lies in how well the participants can handle the scenarios."
The proof of that was yesterday’s long-range shooting.
No running. No going far. Just firing 12 rounds in 10 minutes from about 100 ters away. While the ntal strain due to calculations was present, it was less exhausting than the current CQB fire support mission.
But the difficulty of long-range sniping was much higher, aning the differentiation was sharper. This mission tested how well participants could control variables and adapt to the ever-changing forces of nature.
The mont Olivia’s mouth opened, important information flowed out endlessly.
"If you want to see the true skill of the participants in this competition, just keep an eye on the last mission today and see how many points each team gets. The ability to handle an unprecedented situation is the essence of what makes an operator skilled."
"..."
"For now, regarding this competition, the rifles all seem quite similar. Sniper skills will likely standardize quickly. Excluding bolt-action rifles, most semi-automatic rifles are based on the Armalite series, so manuals and procedures will converge over ti..."
Of course, it might not matter much later.
She thought about the ti, knowing that the weapons in her hands—perhaps akin to the value of the land of Arica—would one day reach every infantry soldier, making everyone a sharpshooter and sniper. The XactSystem released long ago was a good example.
With that in mind, Olivia rolled her eyes. She could see everyone’s expressions. What should she say? It was the sa kind of bewildered look as if they’d encountered a bear on the road and watched it suddenly do a backflip before disappearing from sight.
But there was no ti to listen to their responses. As ntioned earlier, after the first mission, there would be a chance for anyone interested to participate in sothing similar, and Olivia wasn’t about to miss this opportunity full of gunpowder-scented air.
At that mont, the instructor carefully placed a rifle and equipnt in front of her.
"This is the setup you requested. Since your requests were so detailed, I can’t guarantee the performance will et expectations. I ask for your understanding."
"No problem."
CLANK!
The sharp sound of tal echoed as she locked the bolt back, checked the chamber, and depressed the safety.
She now held the M110A3, an upgraded version of the M110 SASS, a semi-automatic sniper rifle that fired 6.5mm Creedmoor rounds. It was equipped with a suppressor, a full upper receiver assembly, and nurous other attachnts.
She worked with the rifle expertly, noting that the number of teams who needed to complete the first mission had dropped to four. After putting on her AACPC vest, she expertly loaded five 20-round magazines into her pouch, leaving just enough space for a first-aid kit.
With knee and elbow pads, a holstered TTI Combat Master Glock 34 on her right thigh, and her Ops-Core helt within arm's reach—complete with all sorts of equipnt.
In an instant, Olivia had transford into a special forces operator.
She checked the cantilevered site on the scope to ensure it was functioning properly before adding:
"This is a two-person mission, but I’ll go alone."
"Yes, of course."
There was an undeniable sense of anticipation in her voice that everyone could feel.
It was 10 minutes before the observer-shooting session began.
"…This is Olivia. I’ve arrived at the starting point."
"Roger that. The mission will start once the countdown ends, and holograms will pop up in various places of the building. Do whatever you need to do."
"Of course."
A slight breeze brushed against her face, mixed with the sll of dirt and faint traces of gunpowder.
In this mont, only Olivia and Lorentina were connected through the comms network. Through her scope, she checked the area about 250 ters away from the four-story building. A hologram erged, projecting the enemies as beams of light extending from hovering drones.
The mission ti was six minutes, but Olivia didn’t worry about the clock. After all, the ti limit only applied to the participants. If she were a participant, it would have been a different story, but for now, she was undistracted and focused on her aim.
She could feel the wind, adjust for it in her mind. Others might say it wasn’t sniper behavior, but this was how she always worked, and she had never been wrong.
With a sharp sound, the bullet cut through the air.
“PING!”
One, two, three.
Each ti she pulled the trigger, an enemy was erased. The sniper on the roof, the rifleman on the third-floor railing, the patrols moving around the building—one by one, they fell, like autumn leaves. This wasn’t a perfect stealth mission, and that’s why she could act so boldly.
About 30 seconds later, when the enemies had all retreated into the building, it was ti to move. The first magazine had 13 rounds left. Including the round in the chamber, she had fired eight shots. She kicked off the ground and advanced toward the building.
Since the semi-automatic sniper rifle was too long to use effectively inside, she quickly pulled out the handgun from the holster and carefully opened the door.
A green laser flashed, and the artificially simulated gunfire echoed.
“Ugh.”
She tid it perfectly—BANG.
She poked her head out just enough to land a shot to the face of an enemy. The hologram vanished, and she began sweeping the first floor, following the blueprint she had morized. The layout wasn’t as complex as the real building, but with the number of floors, she needed to move faster.
Basic pie-slicing technique and room clearing. Before the enemies hiding in the corners could react, she landed one shot to the head, another to the chest. The enemy count was low, so the pressure was light.
The muzzle of the handgun released a wisp of smoke, and the sll of gunpowder lingered.
“Phew.”
A sense of emptiness filled her chest, but it was quickly replaced by satisfaction.
She didn’t want to admit it, but her body was undeniably made of gunpowder and steel.
The suppressed shots, which would have been loud in the open, were now music to her ears. The recoil of the handgun traveling through her hand was a source of pleasure, and she felt proud of her precise movents. Perhaps it was because there wouldn’t be any sound traveling outside; she didn’t know, but it felt right.
A smile crept onto her lips, and a strange sense of comfort washed over her. However, she shook it off and returned to the past, replacing that comfort with purpose. She swapped the magazine and started climbing the central stairs to the next floor.
The mission had only just begun.
"Look at that. Told you they couldn’t resist."
"Well, of course."
"Since no one placed a bet on the opposite side, I guess this round doesn’t count."
anwhile, a few hundred ters away, in the auditorium...
Of course, Olivia’s acquaintances had predicted this outco long ago.
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