I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 591

"Ha..."

"...I've been wondering for a while, why do you hold the C4 trigger like a grip strengthener? Is it some kind of routine or something?"

"It just happened..."

Sunday, the long-awaited Final Championship's final day.

Even though we've played dozens of matches over the past week, every time I stand on the verge of this massive challenge called the Final Championship, my chest feels tight. I exhale deeply and repeatedly click the trigger in my hand. At that moment, it feels like the tension in my body slightly loosens.

With only a few minutes left until the actual match starts, there's always one thought that stirs in my mind. Maybe this is enough. Objectively speaking, it's not wrong. After all, it only took me 16 months since I first stepped into the Dark Zone to get here.

Of course, while it might sound like 16 months, the hard training that felt like an eternity, where it seemed like my mind might melt and disappear, made it possible. But right now, that's not what matters.

I glance around and check the map I'll be dropped into in just a couple of minutes.

If I run into someone here, how should I respond to completely overpower them? I run countless simulations in my mind, considering their psychology and the variables at play, analyzing the success or failure of each scenario.

I wonder how I would have reacted if the me from a few years ago had seen me standing here now. Just thinking about it... those 16 months with Yujin have been enough to completely change a person.

To someone who didn't know the meaning of fighting spirit, Yujin has embedded the joy of victory into my very bones.

"...Seeing Mina's expression turning sinister, I really feel like I don't want to meet her today."

"Maybe it's because the first map is a high-value research facility. It's hard to break down walls in a map like this, so I really don't want to be on it..."

"It's not like there’s nothing else. Like a mock combat arena with lots of temporary buildings... though of course, I’m definitely not going there."

"Hehe."

As he says this, Dice glances at his right thigh.

Unlike the others, his multi-purpose pouch is ridiculously stuffed. Inside are all sorts of odds and ends—small wooden chopsticks, a lighter, rubber bands, tripwire, and other various items. Naturally, all of them are trap materials.

Someone once looked at my multi-purpose pouch and called it the "pocket of death." They said that as it empties, more people die. Someone else even asked if carrying this much trap material was cheating, but the answer was that it was perfectly legal according to the game rules.

The items are not directly capable of killing players.

Because of that, my pouch hasn’t been confiscated, but in truth, even if it were, I’ve practiced making traps with just the materials available on the map, so I wouldn't be too bothered by it.

Time is almost up.

With only about 10 seconds remaining, everyone exchanges friendly goodbyes about meeting again in the top ranks, and the countdown reaches zero—soon enough, I wake up somewhere on the lowest floor of the high-value research facility.

"Where is this…"

The damp concrete smell, the sharp paint smell.

The stagnant, murky air of the lowest floor mixed with the metallic scent of pipes. Normally, you'd fall from the sky and enter the facility, but this year, that process has been partially skipped, and the spawn point is fixed somewhere inside the facility from the start.

Well then, what will be my first trap material today? I rummage through my pouch and pull out a pair of chopsticks wrapped with a rubber band, along with a lighter.

"...I think I can manage."

One of Yujin’s many teachings.

I’m not a pure physical and instantaneous decision-making player like Dice, nor am I a perfectly optimized hexagon player. I'm more geared towards creating unconventional traps that mess with my opponent’s psychology. If I just use the same methods every time, it’s to my detriment and to my enemy’s benefit.

Because of this, I have to develop the habit of combining little objects I carry around to create traps that no one would think of—a methodology Yujin taught me.

At first, it gave me a headache, and to be honest, even now, if I get stuck with an impossible combination of items, it stresses me out. But pushing my imagination to its limits is the fate of a trap maker.

...Although, once, when I said this to Yujin, he scolded me for "getting too absorbed."

Since I haven’t run into any enemies yet, I continue gathering supplies, and after a while, I carefully wedge a single bullet between the chopsticks wrapped with rubber bands, preparing it for a future trap.

As gunfire echoes through the walls and hallways, I climb the stairs, cleaning off white paint from my military boots before heading upstairs.

This is some kind of trap the game developers have planted on the map... or something like that.

'You can gauge the enemy’s position by tracking where the paint stains from your shoes lead… terrifying.'

What’s even scarier is that this doesn’t just apply to the lowest floor.

In the past, when I frequently played this map with Yujin, I kept getting killed on the lower floors, so I asked him why. Back then, he told me, "People who don’t clean the paint off their shoes and wander around are always the ones who get beaten by me."

And when I later checked the death cam, I saw Yujin following the faint—though visible—paint stains that led to the room where PDAs often spawn. It was so shocking that I still vividly remember it.

After thoroughly erasing all traces, I begin to search the area. I know from experience that PDAs can track the movements of Garganuts from the lower floors, and you can also randomly find rare PDAs with emergency rescue functions.

For anyone unfamiliar with emergency rescue functions, if you think about the method Dice used to take down Logan last year, you’ll quickly understand what it can do.

I cautiously move toward a room I’ve been eyeing...

???!

In an instant, I see a red laser flash from a distance, disappearing.

Someone else must have already arrived. But they haven’t found me yet. If they had, they would’ve shot immediately. So, while thoroughly erasing my traces, I carefully pick up some broken glass scattered around and quietly spread it near the door.

At the same time, I gently open the door leading to the lab and sneak inside, setting up a trap I’ve prepared in advance.

'...In traps, the most important thing is not the power or composition, but the ability to read your opponent's psychology and timing.'

No matter how carefully a trap is designed, or how much power it has to potentially send two or three operators to the lobby when triggered, if no one steps on it, it means nothing.

It’s about placing a trap in the middle of a path that people have no choice but to walk on or right next to a path they must take. The trap I'm making now falls into the latter category—I cross the chopsticks in an X shape, gather a few nearby odds and ends, and then take out a 7.62x39mm bullet from my pouch and place it across the top.

What I pull from my pocket is a turbo lighter. It’s nothing special, just a regular turbo lighter.

I press my ear against the door and continue listening for sounds from outside.

One second, two seconds, three seconds… How many tens of seconds passed before I heard an eerie crunching sound echoing from nearby. It was the sound of boots crushing the glass I had scattered earlier. I thought the low lighting would make it hard to see the glass, but I was wrong.

At the same time, I make a bluff. I intentionally make a rattling noise and pretend to come out of the door. From now on, it’s all about timing. My opponent has figured out that I'm inside. They’ll probably throw a grenade first and then thoroughly search for me.

With the defensive items I’ve quietly gathered—weapon cases and chairs—I’ve set up a defense line, so I should be able to withstand the grenade shrapnel.

The only thing left is one.

???Tsssst!

With a tiny hiss, the flame from the turbo lighter ignites.

I adjust the flame intensity to its minimum, carefully slide the bullet underneath it, and as I hide behind my makeshift shield, the door creaks open slightly, and the metallic sound of it opening fills the room. Naturally, it's a grenade.

I’ve stacked odds and ends around the trap, pressing the lighter against the wall so it won’t fall—thinking it through, I press my body flat to the ground, and the explosive sound shakes me to the core.

"Ugh…!"

With the explosion, the door crashes open, and the enemy storms in like a wave.

But at that moment, I too have rolled my grenade, curving it toward the wall beyond. No cooking time. Since it takes 4 seconds to detonate, there is a chance they might dodge, but that time starts now.

It’s the moment the trap will activate.

???Taaang!

???Tudududududu!

???Kwaaaang!

"Aaagh-!"

The powder inside the bullet case ignites wildly, and a deafening sound erupts.

Unconsciously, I turn my head toward the noise’s source and unload 10 rounds of full-auto into the enemy, then duck behind the wall again, as the grenade I had thrown earlier detonates.

After barely a second of fighting, the enemy experiences the glorious collaboration of MK47 mutant bullets, a grenade, and the noise trap and quickly retreats to the lobby. It would have been nice if they’d left a five-star review too.

With the relief of the aftermath, I close the door and start gathering the items left by the enemy.

Finally, I retrieve the lighter and exhale deeply.

"Whoever you are, thank you."

There’s nothing like the joy of seeing the trap work as intended.

It’s tough, but honestly, thinking about who I’ll use my traps on next, and how, is quite exciting.

The first match of the Final Championship’s final day started like this.

"Well, it looks like it's still too early to catch up with them. I knew it would be like this... once the conditions are set, the instant-kill strategy becomes too hard to counter."

"Really? I thought that in about a year, anyone would be able to handle it, but it seems that’s not the case."

"A year is much shorter than you think, but that’s not the key. The key is the trend in the methodology they’ve learned."

Meanwhile, inside the Final Championship stadium.

A dignified man with long hair tied back checks the live screen and scribbles down some notes before closing his notebook. The word "Keith" was written there. Until last year, everyone knew him, but at this point, very few people even remember him.

Normally, he would have been standing in the same place as a player, but this year, that wasn’t the case. The reason was simple. All the players, including him, who participated in the 3rd Final Championship last year, were banned from participating by the Japanese Dark Zone Association as a form of retaliation.

Nevertheless, a subtle smile crept across their faces. And on the screen, the only three Japanese players remaining were stuck at the bottom ranks.

In just a few hours, the Japanese Dark Zone Association, especially the stubborn AP officers, would burn like firewood, reduced to ashes and thrown away in the trash bin.

Thinking that, he muttered softly.

"Seems like the strategy was created specifically to kill only operators... I’m curious what that guy is thinking, knowing such a method and being able to break it down into a theory and teach it to his disciple."

"I heard Yujin was once part of a special forces unit in the U.S. Maybe he created this theory based on knowledge and experience from that time, applying it to the Dark Zone. Considering Stormseer also uses a similar methodology..."

"That sounds right."

He chuckled and added.

"Maybe the Dark Zone is secretly getting support from the U.S. Department of Defense, simulating the next-generation operators for urban warfare... It’s a conspiracy theory, but maybe it’s becoming reality. This is the second time I’ve thought that."

"...Wasn’t that a joke?"

"Nobody knows how things will turn out. Of course, whether it’s true or false is not our job to figure out..."

At the same time, he switched the screen to Harmony's using a remote.

Those entering the stadium were given special glasses, earphones, and remotes, allowing them to view the desired screen. After a short wait, the screen revealed the image of a green cat quietly devouring the enemy using all sorts of creative methods.

Amidst the lights hanging from the ceiling, Harmony had placed grenades with their pins removed—secured with safety handles—launched a flashbang to blind the shield bearer, and shot the lights to drop the grenades and set them off in a double grenade trap.

She had dismantled grenades, set fuses, and used tape to reverse it and attach them to the wall, detonating them just before entering the room to catch the enemy off guard.

The lighter trap she had used earlier was also enough to surprise them.

"It's terrifying."

"Do you think so too?"

"Not just making traps, but being able to apply them smoothly in such a high-pressure situation proves that she’s used them in real combat countless times. Just thinking about how many trial-and-errors she must have gone through to perfect them..."

"Exactly."

Except for Harmony, Yujin's team—Dice, Gambit, Summit, Michael—all share the basic principle of shooting enemies with guns. While their playstyles may differ slightly, they all use guns in combat, which is a common trait.

But she’s different. While killing the enemy with a gun is similar, the process is not the focus—it’s mostly about the results. And the process was something that viewers had never seen before, like opening Pandora’s box.

That's what made Harmony stand out more than anyone else.

As the zone shrinks and Garganuts continue to fall, the familiar names keep remaining. Among them was Michael, who had soloed the so-called "ninja Garganut," and Dice, a regular at in5.

Meanwhile, Harmony had looted skill byproducts from those she had blown up—oxidizers and nanite cams—and had begun stocking up on Composition B by disassembling grenades.

Despite Dice’s comment before the game began, the final circle began to narrow toward a mock combat arena filled with temporary buildings.

She was the first to head there and started installing oxidizers, nanite cams, and explosives all around the building, without setting traps, instead.

???Kwang!

A blast rang out from the complete opposite direction of Harmony’s position. This was another form of misdirection, which allowed her to install explosives undetected until the very end.

However, Michael, equipped with a shield and pulse, was like a moving tank. He quickly located Harmony and Dice using his pulse and circled around, never approaching the building. If he had to enter, he’d use a Seeker mine or directional pulse to disable the traps.

With leap mines and pulses causing explosions from all directions, the temporary buildings collapsed and the debris covered the surrounding area—Harmony slowly began to be cornered and eventually came face-to-face with Michael.

The avatar was of a foreign player, but Michael and Harmony had already observed each other's playstyles and knew exactly who the other was.

-I'm not missing this time. It’s about time for you to show up.

-...I guess so.

But Harmony doesn’t show up.

Instead, she smiles.

Her lips part.

"I didn’t think I’d get you here, but I’m glad I could finally lure you in."

-...!

"You can’t run now. That’s because..."

You destroyed the whole building, Michael.

Her words echoed faintly, and Michael, hurriedly stepping back, stopped when he realized his escape route was blocked by piles of stones and steel pipes.

It was then that he understood the whole situation. Harmony had anticipated that Michael wouldn’t enter the building and had directed the explosions and collapsing buildings to block his retreat.

Before Michael could even be surprised by her grand scheme, Harmony quietly tightened her grip on the trigger.

With a deafening crash, the building began to slowly collapse toward him.

???Kugung!

"It was a backup plan I set up long before the Final Championship even started, but I didn’t expect the circle to shrink here."

-...I should’ve just pushed forward instead of retreating.

-Next time, if there’s a chance.

With a horrific sound, the four-story building crashed down on Michael like a wave.

The number 3 on the UI changed to 2, and as the dust began to settle and the rubble from the temporary building piled up inside the mock combat arena, the avatar of a user Michael had never seen before—no, it was Dice in disguise—approached Harmony and, hidden behind cover, added:

-If you want to be first, you’ll have to get past me.

-...I was planning to do that anyway.

Click!

There was no more conversation.

The sound of the grenade pin being pulled signaled the beginning of the battle.