"Alright," Shana said, checking his gear. "Let's keep it business as usual."
He signaled to Sinon, who was positioned a short distance away. On cue, the two of them dropped into their sniping stances. At a range far beyond the sightlines of anyone back at the base, the enemy ranks began to vanish, erased one by one by precision fire.
As the hostiles pressed closer, other players specialized in long-range combat joined the fray. Among them, one particular sniper caught Shana's eye. Their accuracy was uncanny.
"That green-haired player over there… she's good," Shana muttered. "Wait, is that a woman? You don't see many female snipers with that kind of form."
"I heard she's from a squadron called the Northern Hunters Club," Shizuka remarked, leaning in. "Apparently, she's a professional hunter in real life."
Shana glanced back at Shizuka. "You know her?"
"Not personally. I just struck up a conversation since we're both women. She told me her squadron is strictly PVE—they specialize in mob hunting and won't touch the competitive player-versus-player scene."
"I see. Maybe being a pro makes her more squeamish about the idea of shooting people, even in a game."
"Yeah, she mentioned something like that."
"What's she like?" Shana asked.
"A bit like Sinon, I think. She plays it cool, but you can tell she's got a fierce competitive streak under the surface."
"And her name?"
"Shirley."
Hachiman—acting as Shana—fell silent for a moment, weighing his options.
"I'm planning to dive into the vanguard," he said finally. "I think I'll go lend that Shirley person my M82."
"What? I mean… I guess it makes sense. You can't be in two places at once, and it'd be a waste to let that firepower sit idle."
"She's not the type to run off with it, right?"
"Of course not."
"Then I'll be right back."
"Good luck."
For Shirley, sniping mobs from the safety of a fortified position was a novel experience. In a controlled environment like this, she could push her technical skills to their absolute limit.
The thrill of the hunt is a bit dampened, she thought, but this isn't so bad for a change. Honestly, just being able to fire like this made the wait worth it.
Just then, her magazine ran dry. As she reached for a reload, a heavy round—significantly larger than the caliber she was using—was placed directly in front of her. Shirley looked up, startled.
"Nice shooting," a voice said.
"Oh… uh, thank you."
Standing before her was Shana—the very player she had been dying to talk to. Shirley scrambled to her feet, holding the heavy round.
"I'm sorry, but this won't fit my rifle."
"I know," Shana replied with a faint smirk. "That's why you're taking this, too."
He held out the Barrett M82. A collective gasp rippled through the surrounding players.
"Wait… what is this?" Shirley stammered.
"I'm heading to the front lines to go hand-to-hand. If I take this with me, it's just dead weight. You want to give it a spin?"
The offer was more than she could have hoped for. Shirley leaned forward, her eyes sparkling.
"Are you sure? I'd love to!"
"Go for it. I wanted someone who actually knows how to handle a rifle to get some use out of it. Here."
Shirley took the M82 with trembling, excited hands. "Thank you! I'll bring it right back to you as soon as the battle is over."
"You know how to work the action?"
"Of course. I've got it."
"Good. I'm leaving all the ammo here, so have fun. See you later."
"Right! See you!"
As Shana walked away, Shirley braced the M82, her heart racing.
"This might be the first and last time in my life I get to fire a monster like this," she whispered.
She peered through the scope, found a target, and pulled the trigger. Through the lens, she saw a massive hole tear through the enemy; the mob vanished instantly. A look of pure delight crossed her face as she began systematically slaughtering the incoming wave.
Watching from a distance, Shana nodded to himself—she was indeed the real deal—before turning to his companions to announce his charge. With the high player count, the enemies were being thinned out rapidly, but perhaps because of that, the remaining hostiles had noticeably increased their march speed.
"The flanks are holding a solid barrage," Shana commanded. "Let's wipe out the center!"
"Look! Shana's moving out!"
"There it is—the Beam Naginata!"
"Man, how does he even swing that thing around?"
"Leave the center to Shana! The rest of us, keep the pressure on the flanks! Don't let a single one through!"
Among the players maintaining the wall of fire was Shinohara, who was currently in a trance of pure joy, holding down the trigger of his favorite machine gun.
"HYAH-HA! Take that, you bastards!"
"Oh! You're a machine gunner too? Me too!"
"Me three! Nothing beats a heavy trigger!"
"Just keep firing! Empty the belts!"
Surrounded by kindred spirits, Shinohara felt a profound sense of belonging. This chance meeting would eventually lead to the formation of the squadron 'ZEMAL' (Zen-Nippon Machine-gun Lovers).
"So he's heading out with her…"
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