Chapter 568: A Mild Warm Up
Irene won.
A complete and utter slippery landslide sliding her all the way to victory.
I an – who’s surprised? Who’s shocked? Who’s calling this a plot twist? Of course she won.
Was there ever even any doubt at all in the first place?
The only sliver of hope, or any prospect of success I had for myself was surviving for as long as I could... but alas, it seems a lone survivor I was not.
It truly was quite a comforting thought knowing that if WW3 was just right around the corner at so point, I’d be right on top of the list of confird casualties.
The first round started off well enough – had myself bunkering down inside a big empty crate with so good line of sights on either end, staying out of the unceasing crossfire as best I could ’cause outside it looks as if Irene had garnered a strong vendetta against poor green for so reason.
.....
I was hoping all the noise would draw everybody else’s attention, and I could just spray away and take victory in the comfort of my crate.
As I anticipated, it happened – the sound of heavy boots crunching against gravel. I was smiling. I was delighted. Until I realized the sound was getting louder, closer...
I scrambled.
Then from one of the entrances, I heard a quick yelp, a gasp, and then a crash.
When I went to peek around the corner, I saw red face flat on the ground, and she definitely saw too.
I aid my gun at her, and she fumbled for hers... only to horror, discovering it strewn way beyond her reach.
A free kill, an easy kill, literally falling onto my lap. I didn’t even think to think twice... then she whimpered, frightened, staring up at the barrel of my gun with those quivering puppy-dog eyes, and I just...
Yeah, I choked.
And for my act of rcy, I was generously bequeathed a reward – in the form of a bullet to the back of my skull.
The moral lesson here is – looks can actually kill.
“First rule of the battlefield, rookie,” cackled a dastardly blue devil behind . “Hesitation is defeat! You fall for your opponents, you’re dead! Ever heard of equal rights?”
“You’re very kind...” whispered red, throwing a fleeting apologetic gaze before breaking away. “But better luck next ti.”
I was promptly booted off from active combat, placed beside a suddenly sullen-looking green... vacant eyes hauntingly reflecting back the untold horrors of war.
Not even a full minute later, red and blue ca to join us by the sidelines, displaying so battle scars of their own – one on the temple and one on the chest, and I considered myself avenged.
I thought I fared much better in the second round, with better positioning, and a better understanding of the grim reality of war. I managed to take blue by total surprise mid-reload behind a barrel, completely helpless and utterly defenseless.
She knew she was done for, she knew she had to do sothing quick – and quickly, she did... throwing a silent plea for rcy, batting those sa frail, maidenly eyes I’ve seen before.
Except I didn’t fall for it, not this ti, and so, entirely benumbed to compassion, I raised my gun. Sorry blue.
Equal rights.
After eliminating one of the biggest threats to the competition, I set my sights on the true apex predator of the arena... and after walking and creeping from one landmark to another, I ca to the realization that I haven’t seen Irene once the entire ti. Not in this round, and not even in the round prior.
See, green’s movent was about as subtle as a pair of clown shoes in a funeral, and on the other hand, red couldn’t help but emit panicky squeals every ti she’d relocate – but the detective herself was like a total ghost, floating invisibly across the battlefield, not a single trace of her presence to be heard nor seen.
Hell, she could give Adalia a run for her money. Considering the skills she possesses... it’s really no wonder she’s always a winner every damn ti.
Except, sohow, for this ti.
I’m still piecing it together myself. Must have gotten complacent over ti, stumbled myself into the direct line of sight of enemy fire...
The next I knew, Irene bolted out into the open from her hiding spot, spraying bullets upwards at a nearby tower – and at the sa ti, I heard a wimpish squeal of defeat just as a stray pellet closely whizzed by from the sa direction.
But we were far from being safe still, as behind us sprung another ambush, a volley of bullets gushing out from a busted car window – manned by a vindictive green, spraying and praying perhaps a little too eagerly.
It was too late to do anything else – and Irene and I sadly beca potential canvases for little Miss Jackson Pollock over here... claiming a surprise victory for round two, and achieving her revenge.
Yet it didn’t have to be... Irene could have simply bided her ti, left to die alone due to my own sheer negligence, but she didn’t... for so reason, she tried to save .
Why?
No clue... and she stomped off back to the starting grounds before I had the chance to ask. And so now they’re tied – a match point – anwhile, I’m just here holding onto my big fat zero for three.
The final round ended up being a total massacre. In ticulous fashion, one by one, I heard the churn of crackling gunfire accompanied by a scream only for a swift and deafening silence to follow right after.
It seems Irene doesn’t take to losing too well.
I heard green first, two minutes later, red followed suit... then peeking over my tal sheet of cover, I saw blue dashing out into the field, arms up in surrender... out of ammo, I guessed.
“Okay, you win!” She proclaid to the open, empty air around her. “Just save your bullets, detective! You’ll need them. Just... just let walk, I’ll see myself out, alright?”
A lie. I see that sidearm she got concealed around her hip. I could also see through her plan...
Get Irene’s guard to drop, take that walk of sha as a chance to survey her surroundings, find a better position, an advantageous vantage point maybe... and hopefully get the drop on her.
This girl’s crafty, if a little rule-breaky... kinda reminds of soone I know.
But alas, if I could see through her ploy... then it’s a given that Irene could too.
And indeed, as a voice rang out from sowhere and everywhere, my assumption was confird true.
“First rule of the battlefield...” Irene said.
Blue let her arms drop, pure apprehension her only sole expression. “Hesitation is defeat.”
At once, blue spurred into action, quickly uncoupling the handgun on her holster, but Irene was just much too fast on the draw for her... and with a few well-placed shots, the crafty devil was sent dragging her feet out of the arena, her head hung in sha.
Leaving just as the sole, lone survivor.
Yet of course, we already know how this all would end.
I ran around the stage, desperation, and paranoia gradually replacing the oxygen in my bloodstream, and with the turn of a corner – I was halted, standing frozen... staring cross-eyed directly towards the barrel of a gun, her gun.
We t each other’s gazes, my shock reflecting in her visor, her cold callousness gleaming in mine... and I blinked once, accepting my untily would-be death.
But then...
“Bang,” Irene said, lowered her gun, and promptly walked away.
She didn’t even pull the trigger...
Was that a surrender? Did she just force a surrender onto ? I think she did.
Rather than open fire at , she coerced into conceding.... Whatever the hell happened to hesitation is defeat?
Either way though, that was ga, set, match. With the reigning champion still going undefeated.
“So...” Irene said, walking over to the lifeless corpses of her three victims. “I believe that was two weeks of double shifts, am I correct?”
The blue one groaned, her eyes staring stiffly. “Actually you said just one.”
“Two shifts it is, then,” She said a little firr. “Starting tomorrow, am I clear?”
The three begrudgingly nodded their heads.
Not a good enough answer, apparently. Irene took another step forward. “I said – am I clear?”
“Sir, yes, sir...” All three chorused as lackluster as can be.
“Good, very good,” She approved, then whirling around to , she spoke. “Alright, now that we’re done with warmups, let’s move on to the real deal, shall we?”
“Um...” I looked back at the stage, freshly adorned with splatters and streaks left in the wake of our destruction. If that was just warm up... “What’s the real deal?”
Irene nodded forward, directing my gaze over across to the other side of the premises, where an even bigger, intricate arena sat, brimming with even louder screams, louder gunfire – chaos on a whole ‘nother level.
“Capture the flag,” Irene said, a wry expression visible even through her mask. “Still eager for so more fun?”
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