The jungle was alive with the echoes of distant battles, but here, in this small clearing, all was still. Tae-young, the number one Assassin in Korea, stood poised, his eyes locked on his opponent, Hana, the second-best Fighter in Korea. The air between them crackled with tension, each waiting for the other to make the first move.
Tae-young struck first, true to his aggressive style. He launched himself at Hana with blinding speed, his dual blades a blur as they sliced through the air. His movements were precise, almost mechanical in their efficiency, designed to overwhelm and disorient his opponent.
Hana, however, was not so easily caught off guard. She sidestepped the initial flurry, her blade sweeping up to parry Tae-young's attacks. Her Fighter training had made her versatile, able to withstand and adapt to different combat styles. She absorbed the impact of his strikes, her health pool giving her a buffer against Tae-young's relentless assault.
But Tae-young's speed was daunting. He danced around her, a whirlwind of blades and motion, constantly shifting angles and pressing the attack. Hana knew that one misstep could spell her end, yet she remained calm, her focus sharp. Her movements were deliberate, conserving her energy, waiting for the right moment to strike back.
The clash of their weapons echoed through the jungle as they exchanged blows. Tae-young's strikes were sharp and lethal, designed to end the fight quickly. But Hana's resilience kept her in the game. Her attacks, though slower, were calculated, aiming to capitalize on any opening Tae-young might leave.
Hana's versatility as a Fighter allowed her to withstand Tae-young's barrage. Her health gave her a second chance, enabling her to survive hits that would have felled a lesser opponent. She blocked and parried, biding her time, her eyes scanning for an opportunity to turn the tables.
For every step forward Tae-young took, Hana met him with equal force. Her blade clashed with his, the sound of metal on metal ringing out as they pushed each other to their limits. She felt the strain in her arms as she deflected his attacks, the relentless pace forcing her to stay on the defensive. But Hana was patient, waiting for the inevitable moment when Tae-young's aggression would overextend him.
And then it came. Tae-young, in his eagerness to land a finishing blow, overcommitted to a strike. Hana saw it in a split second, a brief window where his guard was down. She pivoted on her heel, bringing her sword around in a powerful arc aimed at his midsection.
But Tae-young was fast. He twisted his body just in time, Hana's blade grazing his side instead of delivering a crippling blow. Blood splattered onto the forest floor, a testament to her skill, but Tae-young hardly flinched. Instead, he used the momentum to spin back into the fight, his daggers flashing in a counterattack that forced Hana to leap backwards.
They paused, both breathing heavily, their eyes locked. Tae-young's shirt was stained with blood, but the fire in his eyes was undimmed. Hana's chest heaved, her own body aching from the toll of their clash. Despite her health advantage, she knew that Tae-young's relentless assault was wearing her down.
But Tae-young didn't give her time to recover. He surged forward again, closing the distance between them in an instant. Hana barely had time to raise her blade before he was upon her, his strikes faster and more vicious than before. It was clear that Tae-young thrived in the chaos of battle, his ferocity unmatched.
Hana gritted her teeth, her muscles burning as she blocked and parried, each movement becoming more laboured. Tae-young was relentless, his attacks coming in a ceaseless torrent that left her little room to counter. But she refused to back down. She was the second best Fighter in Korea, and she would prove her worth.
The two continued to clash, their skills and determination on full display. Every swing of their blades, every dodge, and every party was a testament to their status as top-tier players. The fight was a dance of death, a battle between two of Korea's finest, each pushing the other to the brink.
Joon-ho and Hyun-ae paused their pursuit of Soo-jin, realizing the danger of continuing to chase an elusive target in this unpredictable jungle. Instead, they decided to wander cautiously, hoping to find another opponent while avoiding potential ambushes. The timer ticking down in the corner of their HUD reminded them that this team deathmatch had a limit—victory wouldn't require eliminating all opponents, but simply surviving and outscoring the other teams before time ran out.
Despite this, the tension never left them. Every rustle of leaves or crack of a twig put them on high alert, knowing that danger could strike at any moment. As they moved through the dense foliage, Joon-ho suddenly froze, a gut instinct screaming at him to stop. In the next instant, a bullet whizzed past where his head would have been, striking a tree trunk ahead with a sharp crack.
Joon-ho's eyes widened, realizing how close he'd come to being eliminated. "We've got a Marksman on us," he whispered to Hyun-ae, who quickly dropped into a crouch beside him. They scanned the area, knowing that a skilled Marksman could end their run if they weren't careful.
The two began to move more cautiously, lowering themselves to blend into the underbrush, using the natural cover to shield them from view. Joon-ho found a large rock and positioned himself behind it, leaving only a small area exposed. It was a calculated risk—he knew that if the Marksman wanted a clean shot, they would have to manoeuvre into his line of sight, giving him a chance to identify and counter them.
It didn't take long before Joon-ho spotted movement. A face appeared in the narrow gap he'd intentionally left uncovered, the familiar profile of Jin-kyong, another friend and teammate. She had her rifle trained on him, already lining up the shot. Joon-ho's heart raced, but he didn't panic. Instead, he dropped to a crawl, making himself as small a target as possible.
Jin-kyong's shot rang out, but it missed, hitting the rock where Joon-ho had been just seconds earlier. He knew that staying low would cost him speed, but it also reduced the chances of Jin-kyong getting a clean shot. With careful, deliberate movements, Joon-ho began to creep towards Jin-kyong's position, using the undergrowth for cover.
Hyun-ae, seeing Joon-ho's strategy, followed suit, moving parallel to him but keeping a safe distance to avoid giving Jin-kyong a double target. The two moved with the precision of seasoned players, each step calculated to avoid detection and maintain the element of surprise.
As they closed in on Jin-kyong's position, Joon-ho noticed her shifting, likely frustrated by her missed shot and unaware of how close her opponents were getting. This was their chance. Joon-ho signalled to Hyun-ae, indicating that he would make the first move.
In one swift motion, Joon-ho sprang from his cover, his daggers glinting in the dappled light as he charged at Jin-kyong. Startled, Jin-kyong turned her rifle towards him, but her reaction was a fraction too slow. Joon-ho closed the distance and struck, aiming to disarm her rather than eliminate. It was a tactic he preferred, giving them a chance to strategize rather than simply cutting down a friend.
Jin-kyong stumbled back, her weapon slipping from her grasp as Joon-ho knocked it aside. Hyun-ae emerged from her cover, ready to back up Joon-ho if needed. They had Jin-kyong cornered, but instead of pressing the attack, they paused, waiting to see what their friend would do next.
Jin-kyong laughed, raising her hands in a playful surrender.
"Alright, you got me," she said, her tone light and teasing.
Joon-ho and Hyun-ae, relieved by her easygoing demeanour, allowed themselves to relax. They let their guard down, taking a moment to breathe after the intense encounter.
But as Jin-kyong stood there, seemingly defeated, she shifted slightly, her eyes flicking to something behind Joon-ho. The movement was subtle, but before he could react, a sharp click echoed in his ear.
A gun had been cocked right beside his cheek.
Joon-ho's heart skipped a beat as he slowly turned his head, eyes tracing the barrel of the gun until he saw the steely gaze of its handler—Chin-hwa, the second-best Marksman in Korea. His calm expression was a stark contrast to the weapon he had trained on Joon-ho.
The realization hit Joon-ho like a ton of bricks. Jin-kyong's surrender had been a ruse, a brilliantly executed setup that lured him and Hyun-ae into a false sense of security. Now, with Chin-hwa in position, they were caught completely off guard.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the four of them frozen in the intensity of the moment. Joon-ho would have never guessed that Jin-kyong to be teaming up with Chin-hwa on this. Yes, they are in the same team for the same role, but to think they can work together this seamlessly was a bit of a shocker.