<Rubinstein has donated 10,000 won!>

 

­”Help me. My cruel employer locked me in the basement and keeps throwing 10-hour videos at me to edit.” (Shaking carrot）

 

­”Hahahahahahaha.”

 

­”The editor bursts onto the scene, lolololololol.”

 

­”Such cruelty, dang.”

 

­”So, there’s a backstory like this, hahaha.”

 

­”??: Please… stop… playing… games…” (Gritting teeth)

 

“Ah, Rubinstein… Hey, Rubin! I think I’m gonna die too! This feels more like when I cluelessly followed along to a Marine camp as a kid, not just a game!”

 

As I exhaled roughly, my mint-colored hair, which had lost its shine from soot and concrete dust due to countless battles, gently swayed.

 

Seriously, even the editor brazenly shakes a carrot in donations. Doesn’t this really make me look like the cruel employer as the donation said? Though I did provide plenty of caffeine drinks.

 

Anyway, it wasn’t a good situation to just space out and give an explanation. Maybe from staring too hard through the scope, my eyes felt dry and my head was pounding, even though this was just a game.

 

In short, I was mentally exhausted.

 

­[ISO: The basement is entirely flooded. Whether someone deliberately burst it or it just broke due to lack of maintenance, it’s impossible to access the network equipment without dealing with that. The ice is thin enough to break through easily.]

 

­[ISO: There’s a control room nearby where you can operate the drainage pump. Once it starts working, the enemies will notice, so I recommend not letting those idiots reach the server room first.]

 

Following the path along the wall, the floor was made of perforated steel, and beneath it, greenish wastewater with a thin layer of ice filled the basement level.

 

Reaching the end with an unsettling noise, we were greeted by a small room filled with various machines.

 

Due to some script-based judgments, Harmony familiarly opened the control panel and pressed several buttons. With a grating sound as if rusty machinery was forced to move, vibrations spread through the water below.

 

The water began to drain.

 

And the enemies were approaching.

 

­[ICA: Water level decreasing. Enemy level 94%.]

 

­[ICA: Estimated time required… 5 minutes.]

 

­[ICA: Multiple enemies approaching.]

 

“Damn this fucking game!”

 

“This is a tricky situation. Our escape route is unclear.”

 

“…If I fall behind, you’ll just shoot them all, right?”

 

“If necessary, that’s what will happen.”

 

­”Not denying it, hahahaha.”

 

­”What a Deus Ex Machina, seriously, lolol.”

 

­”Psychology expert Harmony, lol.”

 

­”It’s not even been a day since we started playing together, and she’s already mastered it?”

 

­”Both the streamer guessing right and the teammate agreeing, lol.”

 

It was a response that matched the resigned tone.

 

Meanwhile, from a distance, multiple splashing sounds were heard, followed by thick curses and slang.

 

The two of us quickly turned our heads and scanned the surroundings. The path widened on both sides from the control room, meaning each of us had to handle enemies coming from both directions.

 

The water was leaving marks on the wall as it receded. Initially reaching our waists, it now only came up to our thighs, but the enemies didn’t care and kept approaching.

 

However, their speed was slow, and the still-draining water made it harder for them to find cover.

 

A belated turkey hunt began.

 

“Fucking bastards, eat this, ahhhh!”

 

“Shit, I can’t see! Where are they?”

 

Ear-splitting gunfire and whip-like sounds filled the air.

 

Slowly, red mixed with the receding green water, and the corpses, face-down in the water, would never rise again.

 

But more enemies kept coming, and the dwindling countdown felt painfully slow for Harmony.

 

While Eugene was piling up bodies, Harmony, less experienced, was overwhelmed by the continuous reinforcements from her side.

 

Even using grenades in resistance, the sheer number of enemies made even blind suppressive fire a threat.

 

Eventually, she had to call for Eugene.

 

“Teacher! It’s dangerous here!”

 

The next moment, Harmony saw Eugene charging towards her with immense speed.

 

The image that flashed in her mind was more like a rhino than a superhero, but she didn’t say it out loud.

 

As Eugene found a suitable position and began firing, the suppressed, sharp gunshots sliced through the air. Each pull of the Geissele trigger sent enemies spraying blood from their necks and heads, falling face-first into the water.

 

Soon, the blood-red water flowed into the drain, revealing the heads of the corpses that seemed like they would never surface again.

 

Enemies fell like autumn leaves. Harmony nodded as if she expected it.

 

“…I knew it.”

 

“What are you doing? Shoot with me!”

 

“Oh, yes!”

 

Of course, there was no time to rest.

 

I had never once thought I wasn’t a special forces soldier, but on the other hand, I never thought I was fit to be SOF.

 

It was quite an absurd thing to say, but this was a complex issue with many factors involved. Strictly speaking, in that other world, I was officially an operator.

 

However, if asked whether I went through all the proper procedures and courses to become a special forces soldier, I had to answer NO.

 

On average, it costs at least $150,000 and takes several years of extensive training to cultivate one U.S. Special Forces soldier. Countless practical training sessions are just a bonus.

 

The higher the tier, the exponentially more budget and training each individual requires, leaving only those with at least seven years of service experience.

 

In short, only the strongest remain.

 

But I was… a bit of an anomaly.

 

With boundless stamina that never ran out as long as I was well-fed and endurance that allowed me to carry over 100kg of gear for at least 3 days and 4 nights. My body had an innate ability to learn any muscle memory taught to it.

 

All these factors created a tremendous synergy, allowing me to rival those who had been in war for decades in just six months.

 

Then, during the subsequent four-year period, I gained extensive real-world experience, going out for combat dozens of times a day.

 

In some ways, it was an unprecedented case, and one that probably would never be replicated in this world.

 

Anyway, the reason I’m saying all this is… nothing significant.

 

“Ahhh, I’m dying….”

 

I just realized that it’s incredibly difficult to transform someone into a battle-ready individual, except for anomalies like myself.

 

People tend to project their standards unconsciously in specific situations, even if they know theoretically that they shouldn’t. Maybe I did too.

 

Honestly, it wasn’t necessary to go this far. Whether it’s a game or not, adapting to something inherently requires enough time.

 

In that sense, as I said, there was no need to harshly push this person to quickly adapt to such combat situations….

 

“Everyone. Is this mission originally supposed to take a few tens of minutes? Yes? The average is 25 minutes? It felt like it took me an hour. Was that just me?”

 

“It only took 35 minutes. During engagements, time feels like it drags.”

 

“Oh, really? That’s the first time I’ve heard that. But didn’t I do well this time? Didn’t I shoot better than I thought? Guys, isn’t it average if we cleared a recommended 4-man mission with just two people and only 10 minutes late?”

 

…If you let up just a little, this person quickly becomes overconfident.

 

Actually, there wasn’t any profound reason, but maybe, in some way, this person chose me over other members. So I should match that choice to some extent.

 

In short, as long as this person sought me out, I planned to help her adapt to this game as quickly as possible. I just mixed in a bit of strictness.

 

So,

 

“You seem to still have energy, should we rest a bit and go for the second mission?”

 

“No, no, no, that’s not it! I said it wrong. I’m so tired I can’t even move a finger. I won’t brag anymore.”

 

“You’re unusually honest.”

 

“Ahaha….”

 

She was a truly easy-to-understand person.

 

“Still, since you said so, let’s take a long break. We need to debrief too.”

 

“Debrief?”

 

“It’s the process of talking through what we did well, what we did poorly, and how to improve. It’s essential.”

 

How could I put this simply? An error log? A reflection? The truth likely lies somewhere along that border, but finding the exact point wasn’t my job.

 

After returning to the base, we had a brief discussion near the shooting range.

 

“Was there anything you found ambiguous during the mission? Be as specific as possible, just one thing.”

 

“Uh….”

 

She looked like she was thinking briefly before speaking with difficulty.

 

“Just, it was harder to see the enemies than I thought, and positioning myself to shoot was difficult. Unlike other games, the enemies didn’t come directly towards me.”

 

“You pointed it out well. That’s a positioning issue. It’s not something that gets resolved in a day or two.”

 

“But when I get an order to go somewhere and do something, I can see the enemies well, but when I try to do it alone, it’s not quite right….”

 

“When two people push together, the enemy’s position can change depending on one’s actions. Simply put, if I suppress the enemy with fire, holding them in place or driving them out, the person on the opposite side can take them out.”

 

She finally nodded.

 

This meant that killing the enemy wasn’t just about shooting skills, but about how you led the overall engagement.

 

Many people think that fighting is just about aiming and shooting, but that notion shatters when you actually get into combat.

 

It’s not about waiting for the enemy to come to a convenient position to shoot, but guiding them to such a position. That’s one of the core aspects of any engagement.

 

“It’s similar to the roles of a hunting dog and a hunter. This game involves team missions for that reason. The more people there are, the easier it is to break a stagnant frontline.”

 

“Oh… I think I understand what you mean….”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes. Your explanation is really clear, so I understand. But when I actually play, it won’t go as I want, right….”

 

“Haha.”

 

As I always said, in the end, you can only learn through lots of actual combat.

 

Understanding the flow of engagements and using an animal-like instinct to exploit the enemy’s weak spots, leading them into your team’s fire line as if herding them.

 

Even if you fail, creating variables in the engagement to secure a stable retreat route.

 

It’s not just about clearing paths and standing at the forefront to absorb fire; that’s the true essence of a point man.

 

“If you want to get a quick grasp on positioning, it’s better to learn how to push actively first.”

 

“That sounds hard.”

 

“Combat is inherently hard.”

 

It was difficult to take lives while not getting hit by bullets, that’s why it was hard.

 

As I was about to get up to replenish ammunition, leaving Harmony, who seemed mentally and physically drained, she added.

 

“There’s a lot to learn. Shall we take another 10-minute break and then do the next mission together?”

 

To that, I just gave a faint smile.