The hardest thing in the world is to create something, while the easiest is to destroy it.

The California Gas Plant, a massive facility constructed through the collective efforts of numerous scholars and significant funding, was filled with countless safety mechanisms. The facility was designed to prevent catastrophic failures, as any malfunction would result in devastating losses.

For instance, automatic pipe lock systems were installed to prevent leaks. Special treatments were applied to prevent static-induced fires, and there were many more safety measures... and more still. However, it took nothing more than a massive wildfire and the effort of a single person to undo it all.

-[Warning: Pipe Section Lock System Damaged.]

The first thing to go was the pipe section lock system, meant to prevent the flames from spreading along the pipeline. Once the exposed pipes were engulfed in flames, the resulting damage caused the fire to spread uncontrollably, like venom coursing through a vein.

Without any corrective action, the lack of temperature control allowed the gas, which had vaporized in the high heat, to flow into the tanks, where the rising temperature caused the fire to spread quickly. It was as if a poison had entered the heart through the veins.

The systems designed to detect heat and seal off the affected pipelines had long since failed due to neglect, and the devices meant to vent vaporized gas ahead of time had also malfunctioned. Meanwhile, the human-controlled central fire suppression system was sabotaged.

The dump truck, with its brakes and airbags removed by human hands, barreled headlong toward destruction. It finally reached the breaking point.

And then—

BOOM.

A portion of the map instantly transformed into a massive kill zone.

"At this very moment, a huge explosion lights up the mountain! One-tenth of the map has been engulfed in flames!"

As if they were on an amusement park ride, the audience's jaws dropped. Those familiar with KSM recognized the homage, and their expressions turned incredulous, but this time, it wasn’t Dice’s fault. It was a collective mess caused by multiple parties.

If one were to describe the full scope of events, it would take about 10 A4 pages, double-sided, to cover all the details and assign blame. But in short, the summary was this: “They fought inside the control center building, and all the systems got destroyed.”

But at this point, there was no need to assign responsibility. The map’s dynamics had changed.

"There are no user fatalities from the large-scale revolution, but the new wildfire it caused will accelerate the spread of the kill zone in the northeastern area. A total of 11 players are currently affected, including Dice and RedPepperHotKimchi from South Korea."

"Dice is one of the few players stationed in the northern part of the map. He’s secured 3 kill points so far in this mid-stage of the match. A very strong result."

"This player has experience with this map from his time in KSM, where he directly caused a revolution event. His previous experience should serve him well here."

The timer on the ceiling, indicating the estimated end of the match—when the kill zone would consume the entire map—was ticking down faster than before. Many users were rushing to the safe zones and areas not yet engulfed by fire. The remaining 46 players scattered across the shrinking map, quickly adjusting to the sudden shift in the game’s dynamics.

Plans crafted with precision were now in disarray due to this unforeseen development.

To put it simply, here’s what had happened: an explosion in the northern part of the map caused more players than expected to head south. As a result, when the kill zone shrank, the buildings players had planned to occupy might already be taken.

Japan, which had been significantly affected by this tactic yesterday, reacted with heightened vigilance, while Russia pressed forward even harder to counter. The overall pace of the match picked up.

In other words, the kill feed started to fill up so quickly that the casters and commentators struggled to keep up.

"Stinger from Taiwan just turned Dorothy from China’s vehicle into Swiss cheese! The turret linked to his machine gun created an impressive crossfire—but oh! Just as I speak, a barrage of mortars rains down on Stinger’s position!"

The more desperate the situation, the more predictable and simplified the gameplay became.

This made it easier to anticipate enemy movements and preemptively block routes or set up firepower along those paths. It was like watching a sitcom unfold repeatedly: someone backstabs another, only to get backstabbed themselves, and then someone else joins in...

When this cycle happens a few times, it’s amusing. When it repeats five or six times, it becomes dull. But when it happens over fifteen times, it becomes startling.

In a matter of minutes, the player density was halved.

-[Remaining players: 22]

"In just seven minutes, the player count has dropped below half. We’re two phases away from the final kill zone, but the California wildfire has devoured many players. I’m curious to see how this match will conclude."

"As we approach the final skirmishes, we’re starting to see the introduction of incendiary weapons, a hallmark of the California Gas Plant map. This signals that the game is nearing its end."

Twenty players crowded into the shrinking circle, fighting between the hills and a handful of low-rise buildings. Concrete walls were constantly bombarded by bullets and explosives, while incendiary grenades thrown from balconies set everything ablaze.

As the circle shrank, the air became thick with acrid smoke and searing flames. With every movement, the oxygen level gauge on the players’ HUDs dropped rapidly, and failing to manage their breathing led to a steep decline in MOA (marksmanship).

The group of twenty quickly shrank to half, then to half again in an even shorter time. The final confrontation wasn’t about who could fight the best, but who could survive the longest.

Amid the inferno, five players gave their all in one last desperate struggle.

And then—

“Damn it.”

This map always felt like the end of the world whenever I played it. At least, that’s how Dice—me—thought. Even as I looked around, all I could see was fire, fire, and more fire.

In the early stages of the game, there were still buildings and other structures. Now, there was nothing but flames.

The final kill zone was set in the mountains, with a few scattered buildings. The constant crackling of fire and the burning red light had reached a point where it was almost driving me crazy. The hyper-realistic smoke stung my eyes.

By this stage, there were plenty of distractions. The night vision goggles and other gear I had prepared had long since been discarded. Everyone was now wearing the typical hooded gas masks you could find on this map.

These silver, glinting gas masks could cover the entire head, but they severely limited movement. The restricted visibility, difficulty breathing, and the extra weight of the oxygen tanks made it harder to fight effectively.

Yujin had once mentioned this.

"Now, you’ll learn how to fight in low-oxygen environments."

That lesson was playing out right now.

Low oxygen situations weren’t complicated—whether it was wearing an uncomfortable gas mask, fighting in a raging inferno, or both, you needed to know how to adapt. It was something I had learned through theoretical study and ingrained through rigorous training.

In the end, the smallest things decided victory.

"When you’re wearing a gas mask or a full-body fireproof suit, the first thing you need to check is whether you can aim smoothly. You’ll notice a significant difference."

And just like that, everything felt more cumbersome. The protruding red filter on the gas mask and the plastic visor in front of my eyes were enough to mess up my aim. On top of that, the lack of oxygen made it harder to regulate my breathing.

Without having spent hours—no, days—training for these conditions, there’s no way I would have been able to remain this calm.

Crunch.

When fire gets too close, your mind tends to wander. My movements became more direct and bold, but that didn’t matter as long as I wasn’t directly exposed to enemy fire.

I tilted my rifle at a 45-degree angle, keeping my thumb on the tactical flashlight, ready to switch it on at any moment. Normally, I wouldn’t use it to avoid giving away my position, but this was a tactic I had learned from a certain someone.

"In a place like the gas plant, where fire is everywhere, people’s vision can be divided into two types: those who are exhausted from staring at flames for too long and those who were hiding in the dark and aren’t used to bright lights. In either case, a tactical light can be very effective."

Familiar room clearing.

As I aimed around a corner, I flicked on the tactical light. The unique sensation of the button pressing beneath my finger was followed by a shot fired from the enemy, aimed across the hallway. But it missed. Ironically, every single shot went wide.

At times like these, I couldn’t help but think that Yujin really was some kind of god of combat. She seemed to know everything. Once you experienced this kind of lesson firsthand, it was hard not to follow her curriculum.

I closed the distance quickly. Being one step ahead of the enemy was always an advantage, and this time was no different. Before I knew it, I was within a dozen meters of the enemy.

I lined up my sights on the retreating enemy.

This was why I had tilted my rifle at a 45-degree angle.

"A gas mask can drastically reduce your ability to aim. In some cases, it’s difficult or even impossible to get a good cheek weld. That’s when a canted sight comes in handy."

Exactly as she had said.

With the sight further from my face, I could still aim effectively.

I squeezed the trigger, feeling the recoil climb up my shoulder. Through the red dot sight, I saw the enemy collapse as if their spine had snapped. They thrashed on the ground before disappearing into the lobby. It was an unceremonious end for someone who had made it into the top five, but that wasn’t my concern.

Now I just needed to gather what I could and get out of the burning building. I pocketed a few red grenades from the ground.

Napalm grenades. The name alone was terrifying.

"The final fight will be on the ridgeline."

There was already gunfire from the other side, past the sea of flames. I had been preoccupied with the enemy in the building, but now I was sure the remaining players saw me as a new combatant entering the fray. Whoever was left out there was certainly capable of handling the situation.

And without a doubt, Yujin was among the last two players. That was as certain as the sun rising after nightfall. Deep down, I hoped that this time I could finally defeat her in a proper battle.

Of course, hoping for something and achieving it were two different things.

It was time to move in.

-[Warning: You are entering a high-temperature area.]

I moved through the blazing fire, heading toward the nearly silent area ahead. Fingering the pin of my napalm grenade, I prepared to throw it as soon as I spotted a silhouette through the flames.

The player count on my UI had dropped to two. It seemed the final showdown had already taken place. I quietly made my way toward a tree that hadn’t yet caught fire, keeping my presence as minimal as possible.

I tossed a napalm grenade along with a seeker mine in one direction. At the same time, I threw another napalm grenade in the opposite direction. I had to throw them simultaneously because Yujin had once batted away a series of staggered grenade throws with the butt of her rifle.

The napalm grenades arced through the air, and the seeker mine’s motor hummed as it activated.

There was no turning back now.

Fsssssshhh!

The seeker mine skidded across the mountain path, launching a wave of incendiary charges. At the same moment, Yujin burst from cover with unbelievable speed, locking eyes with me.

And then, both of our guns roared.

I didn’t know how she had pinpointed my location so quickly, but I didn’t dwell on it. What mattered was the follow-up, and the napalm grenades were already on the ground, just 0.5 seconds away from detonating.

BOOM.

A yellow explosion swept across Yujin’s silhouette.

"Argh!"

My eyes were strained, and I could barely keep them open against the overwhelming light. As I blinked through the fatigue, I saw the firestorm of napalm roaring a sickly yellow in the distance. In the midst of it was a human-sized flame, presumably Yujin, flinging what appeared to be... magazines? And grenades?

A sense of dread washed over me.

Come to think of it, napalm grenades didn’t have enough explosive power to kill outright—

BANG!

"No way. No freaking way..."

A human-shaped blaze emerged from behind the tree.

Despite being completely engulfed in flames, her blue eyes gleamed through the fire-drenched visor of her flame-retardant mask. And then, that burning figure raised her gun at me.

An unbelievable sight followed.

Yujin, on fire, was running straight at me while shooting!

RATATATATAT!

"No way! This is impossible!"

It was clear now.

Yujin intended to kill me before her shield burned away in the napalm fire, and she had every chance of succeeding.

Through my canted sight, I could see her charging at full speed, engulfed in flames, firing her weapon. I squeezed the trigger, too. There was no time to dodge or take cover, and we exchanged desperate suppressing fire.

My voice, laced with panic, mixed with the sound of gunfire.

How much time had passed?

-[Notification: You are the Apex Predator!]

The thunderous gunfire stopped, and silence fell.

Thus was born the Ghost Rider—no, the Ghost Snake.