The World of Masks

"Tsk!"

I kicked my tongue lightly. In the meantime, I quickly pushed the trigger and filled the medicine room with new bullets.

Ping!

An empty shell bounces off the side. Jack's body flinches for a moment. I almost went to pick up some bullets that were flying unconsciously.

'I wish this habit would go away.'

A Korean military officer who squeezes the budget like a squeeze, not a single empty magazine can be skipped. After a shot, the memory of the star went through panoramic lengths to retrieve all the shells from the ground, like a wild beast searching for food that fell to the ground. Eventually, the habit of that time still did not disappear, so when I saw empty shells flying through the air like that, I couldn't help but think about going to pick them up.

This isn't the army. It's not an army. It bounces back into its head as if it's implying, bouncing back and forth along the surface of the roof on which it treads, trying to turn its gaze away from the shells falling to the ground. I felt uneasy, but I felt uneasy, but could barely pull the nerve out of the shell.

Jack picks up his rifle again, puts his skull into his shoulder, presses down, and puts his eyes on the scope on top of the rifle. I noticed the confusion. NPCs were rounding the streets, surrounding the fallen maiden.

'I can't help but think it's hard to hit them at once.'

Jack had no intention of killing her. It was an accident. Six of them got together and pulled the trigger, aiming for the leg of one of the group heading somewhere, but the bullet flew into the wrong spot and hit an unrelated woman.

'Sniping is hard.'

Jack mutters to himself as if he didn't feel guilty at all. Jack had fired a few shots in the army, but didn't have much of a sniper training. It was a common foot soldier, a so-called groundhog. You hear a sharpshooter with a rifle, but it's not enough to use a sniper rifle to hit a target at long range. If that's possible, we won't raise snipers in the army. Besides, the gun was different from the gun Jack used in the army. At this rate, it would be even weirder if the bullet flew to exactly where Jack was aiming.

You see members of the organization scrambling into the scope. Unlike the NPCs who brawl around after someone's death, these six people quickly find cover and move because they don't even have the concept of a gun. I didn't seem to know where Jack was yet. But I didn't intend to let them get away with it.

Taang!

Once again, the bullet breathes fire. One of the NPCs, who was gathering and murmuring, falls down with blood sprayed again. Jack kicked his tongue again. Another missed shot in a city where there was a gust of wind blowing through the building, the current jack, of course, was unacceptable.

You hear Asrai scream again from afar. Another person falls down for no reason, and NPCs rush at each other as if they were scattered ants encountering predators. Jack chuckles. This has always been fun. Abigail, every action she makes, always excites me. But in the meantime, I didn't take my eyes off those six. Just after one more misstep, they all went in for cover. You seem to have found the place by sticking your head out and checking this way. I even saw a bullet above the shield to see if he pulled out his gun. Jack put his gun down without hesitation. One over here, six over there. Those guys over there are skilled in firearms. In close proximity, those guys on this street were strictly against Jack. Jack jumps off the roof without hesitation.

Shhh!

As soon as Jack jumps, as expected, a bullet passes right past where he was. But the bullets are useless as long as Jack's already come down from the roof. Jack is stunned by the loud gunfire and hides as if he were infiltrating the city, avoiding the NPCs staring at him.

* * *

Kuang!

I hit the desk with all my might. The hard wood desk crumbled like a tofu. The documents on the desk were scattered into the air. But no one cared about it. The current situation was too serious to pay attention to such a trivial matter.

"Son of a bitch!!!"

Creed looks at the boss with his eyes wide open. I've never seen a boss so hot, always leading an organization with a heavy, silent charisma. But I was convinced.

An unprecedented surprise in the city. It was an ambush, just like they did with a gun. Fortunately, the sniper missed several times, whether he or his team were as skilled at range as the rest of the team, but he raised a lot of problems once it was a raid. Once you do, you won't be able to go outside. Shoots at them from a distance, stealing their appearance as they strike back. When I did, I couldn't go outside without feeling relieved as long as I couldn't catch the attacker.

There are no injured members of the organization that have suffered fatal injuries due to the poor accuracy of the attacker, but there are no eyes on the bullet. You could have been hit by a bullet while you were still under attack. The damage to NPCs was immense. The assailant's missed bullets often match the NPC that was passing by. Of course, the NPCs fled in a panic. I had a feeling that I was being evaded because I was still a player, but their image crashed profoundly.

'Psycho bastard.'

I didn't think I'd be walking around shooting guns in the city. To be honest, I felt like getting rid of all my flesh and then going to the bone.

"Boss, I guess that gun took our guns, huh?"

"Maybe."

The only good thing is that the four missing persons are able to guess why they disappeared. Probably ambushed by the one who's attacking them now, or by them. That's why they threaten themselves with guns they make. Of course, as the boss used to say, it may have been a weapon made by other players, but it was more convincing that they were taking their weapons and using them.

As you take your separate waves, you raise your guard and march in droves, making it look like you're changing your M.O. and shooting. I don't know which one it is, but until now, they have been unilaterally beaten. He was a great guy. That's why I split my teeth even more.

"Are you gonna stay like this?"

The boss doesn't open his mouth to Creed's questions. It's better to confront them head-on. They were harassed in this way, so there was no way to complain even if the fever spread. The rest of the team huddles around the guild just waiting for the boss' orders. But the boss' troubles didn't end there.

Knock, knock.

Someone knocks on the door. He was the boss who was nervous. I even seemed a little reluctant to hear a good word from the guys who came through the door these days. However, I sighed and signaled to come in to see if I could escape the boss' responsibilities.

"What's going on?"

A decade later, I asked her with an old voice. Even the members who came into the room took a moment to say that they felt sorry for the boss. However, this report was to be made. Filled with sadness in his eyes (so that it wouldn't be hidden from his mask), the man said an empty word.

"Krifnaph is here."

Creed, who, of course, was listening next to you, was also horribly stiff. Fortunately, the two faces were covered with masks, so the man who came in would have made his face white and stepped back.

"· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · Ha ~."

Here it comes. It was like that. I've been getting ready ever since this chaos started, but I wonder if someone could just laugh at the ordeal in front of me and pass it on. At least the boss himself was not such a great man. I could only comfort myself with one feeling of anticipation anyway.

"· · · · · · · · · · · · · · Where are you?"

"I took him to the reception."

The boss stands up empty-handed. The opposing team's identity requires them to act as leaders of this organization. I can feel Creed's eyes on my side. I can't see his face because of the mask, but it's probably sending a compassionate gaze inside him. Bastard. Then at least help me.

The boss stands in front of the mirror. The person who needs to meet now is also very important to their organization. You shouldn't get caught. I knew they were players, so I wouldn't be picky about manners and dressing up, but that wasn't the level of tolerance. I had to at least show them my well-dressed clothes.

'Goddamn game.'

At first I was amazed at the real NPC response, but now it's just a headache. As I cursed at the wretched creator who made this game in my mind, I headed to the reception room where a guest who didn't want to meet the boss was waiting.