Chapter 215: Flashdance

The stun grenade, that is, not a random flashbang effect in a can; even Felix wasn’t so cruel as to include joke crates with debuffs on an already lethal map. That said, this wasn’t entirely without problems, as Emma didn’t have a belt or anything to clip the grenade to, so she had to settle for carrying it in her free hand.

“I don’t know how I lived fifteen years without a storage item,” Emma remarked, tossing the grenade up and down as she walked.

[You never know what you’re missing until you get that first taste of luxury.]

The terrain grew increasingly treacherous as she advanced; the ground going from smooth metal to a constant hodge podge of potholes and raised squares, requiring every step to be carefully measured. No more crates were forthcoming, no even empty ones, suggesting that all of the available equipment had already been picked up.

“Everyone spawns on the outer circle with a few crates, then it’s a race to the middle?”

That was Emma’s hypothesis, anyway, one that seemed plausible given what she’d seen so far. Before she could think more deeply on it, a loud popping noise pulled Emma out of her thoughts. Her first thought was champagne, which was admittedly possible given the eclectic selection of beverages the crates had seen fit to offer, but on reflection, gunfire was the more likely culprit. It hadn’t been aimed at her, so Emma pivoted in the direction it came from, anticipating an ongoing battle. For the first time, she actively sought out the high ground, climbing the next hill made of shipping containers in pursuit of a better viewpoint. It took a bit of doing, requiring her to throw the crowbar and grenade up each level before climbing after them, but eventually she found herself about halfway to the roof, overlooking the chaos below, where a three way battle was afoot.

Almost directly below Emma, a runty looking man was reloading his flintlock musket; a far slower and cumbersome process when compared to modern firearms, but still more than capable of killing on demand. Further away, two girls circled, both of them keeping low to the ground and sticking to the scant cover of the odd container as they approached. The situation seemed to be in stalemate, as there was no cover in the final stretch to reach the gunman, and although he could only fire in one direction at a time, and was thus vulnerable to being rushed down, neither of the girls wanted to be the sacrificial lamb. Further out, a man’s dissolving body showed the danger of taking a bullet dead on, even from such an antiquated weapon.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

“So that’s where the previous shot went,” Emma concluded, sitting herself over the ledge to watch the action.

It amounted to a rather comical dance, with one girl approaching, only to back away as the rifle turned her way, opening the door for the other to advance, and then back again as the pendulum turned. The gunman was reluctant to take the first shot himself, since even if his aim was true, whoever didn’t get shot would have enough time to jump him before he could reload. He didn’t look to have any other weapon, either, while the girls both carried long machetes, so if they could get into arm’s length the battle would only end one way.

Emma could have ended it immediately, but she was content to wait and see; the winner of this event was simply the last man standing, so she didn’t feel any pressure to chase more kills. None of them had any exciting equipment to plunder, either, just mundane weapons that didn’t register to the System in the slightest. So, Emma continued to observe, as the two girls eventually stopped the rat race, moving closer to each other, close enough to actually talk it out. The gunman trained his rifle their way, but like before, he still hesitated, and they were able to huddle, metaphorically speaking. Unfortunately, they were too far away for Emma to hear, nor was she trained in reading lips, so the exact content of their conversation was lost to her. The aftermath, on the other hand, was entirely clear, as one girl took the lead, rushing headly towards the gunman while the other stayed behind her.

Left with no choice, the gunman fired, hitting the first girl centre mass and taking her down for the count. He tossed the rifle away immediately after, reaching for his pocket to pull out a swiss army knife as the remaining girl advanced. It wasn’t nothing, and Emma could see half a dozen ways to make it count, achieving at least a draw despite the disparity in weapon length. The gunman didn’t have that though, his posture showing only panic and his arm shaking as he stood his ground. He dodged at the last minute, the machete catching his arm and lopping it off at the elbow; not ideal, but still better than losing his head, as the original angle of attack aimed to accomplish. He still tried to make it count, stabbing forward for the side of the girl’s neck, but she demonstrated significant skill and spun on her heels. She still took a shallow cut along the front of her neck, but crucially preserved the arteries on either side, leaving her bleeding but alive as her follow up swing decapitated the gunman, bringing the fight to a definitive end.

“That was fast! Only twenty-five combatants remain, so here’s the second round of the stage adjustment!”

Felix’s voice preceded another wave of red covering the mini-map, though this time Emma was already clear of the flood, having done nothing but walk coreward after dealing with Dione. Accordingly, she was happy to stay where she was, leisurely pulling the safety from the stun grenade, priming it, and dropping it off the ledge, where it landed right next to the surviving girl, and then there was light.