How Can an FPS Player Compete with an RTS Player?

Chapter 11: You Play FPS, How Are You Fighting Me, an RTS Player?

It was dusk on Murphy's side, while the players' real world was around early morning, and conveniently a rest day—far better than that god-awful workday yesterday.

So as soon as Administrator gave the order, the whole group chat erupted into activity.

A bunch of people frantically typed "1" to signal they were ready, even the lurking lurkers who hadn't spoken before popped out.

Leading Pigeon: [Log in, log in! Let's go, let's go! Ah, good pigeon's blood is already boiling, this time we're gonna go all out!]

Meow King: [@everyone

Don't panic! Everyone, once you're online, don't lose your heads. Stick to the plan we discussed, stay calm, and try to show off the style of us closed beta testers—teach that contemptuous dev team a good lesson.]

Invincible Tyrannosaurus Car: [Wuwuwu, o(╥﹏╥)o, Car Car still needs 2 days to revive, so I can only support you guys spiritually this time. But if anyone dies because they suck, we've got a nice spectator seat ready.]

A-Cha'en: [Pfft, you unfilial brat, say something auspicious! If I die in the game, I'll screw you over in real life. Ah, I can log in now!

Hurry!

Charge, charge, charge!]

By then, Murphy had already activated his Otherworldly Creature Summoning spell. Just like last night, the dark psychic energy in his body was squeezed out, dim specks of light dancing in the shadows, gathering into a flash that shot down into the room where Mirian was below.

But this time, Murphy used strategy. Instead of summoning all twelve players at once, he only summoned six over there.

The intense psychic fluctuation was immediately sensed by the scout hunter.

The latter jerked her head up, eyes wide. In her shimmering gaze, several unknown life signs suddenly appeared in the house at the far end of the village, which had been empty moments before.

"It's a summoning spell! An ambush!"

She cried out in alarm.

The female leader beside her, gripping a hunter's sword, reacted faster, charging toward where the two companions had been sent earlier. But in the shadow of the water tower, Murphy—curled up from psychic compression—looked up and poured a vial of Mirian's pure blood into his mouth.

The sweet liquid entered his throat, the crimson craving eased, and then the thirst for blood surged. The power of blood boosted Murphy's battle intent, even replenishing his depleted psychic energy.

Summoning spell, second round!

"Shwoosh"

Another six flickering specks of light danced on the second floor of a house at the village entrance, like an RTS player's box-select-and-A-click technique, instantly trapping the unprotected scout in the rear within Murphy's little player encirclement.

Appearing in the room, Leading Pigeon immediately spotted two hunting crossbows and a set of armor placed there by the NPC—the very weapons he'd looted before being kicked offline.

Without a second thought, Good Pigeon scrambled into the armor, grabbed a crossbow, rushed to the window, and swept his gaze outside. He saw Coo-Coo Chicken and A-Cha'en charging out of a nearby house, ganging up on the slender female scout.

A-Cha'en swung his hunting knife wildly, while Coo-Coo Chicken wielded his hand-and-a-half sword like a warhammer.

The petite scout was flustered for a moment but still managed to block the two noob players' attacks—until Good Pigeon, sneaking from the high ground behind her, shot a few bolts into her thigh. She screamed, collapsed, and Coo-Coo Chicken pounced, smashing her a few more times.

"Amber! Damn it!"

The female Witch Hunter leader, who had been charging toward the ambush house, saw her scout taken down by the summoned militia and immediately turned back to help. But out of nowhere, a sneaky shadow leaped from beside a wall. A swift sword hissed through the air, driven by muscle memory like a striking viper, forcing her back a few steps.

Standing in the shadows, Murphy flicked his Blade of Desire. Though his tone was sinister, he still addressed the female hunter with elegant poise:

"Ah, an enthusiastic pursuer is always hard to refuse. Since you've come for me, let's dance together, fiery gray-haired lady. Let your teammates' screams be our accompaniment."

"Get lost! Vampire!"

Realizing she'd walked into an ambush, the hunter woman snarled, gripping her hunting sword as she charged.

The blade seemed to activate some special psychic energy, blue-green flames boiling along its edge. The purifying power made Murphy's back prickle with alertness like needles.

Not good!

This one's tough!

"There are more at the village entrance! They're breaking in! Quick! All archers, shoot! Shoot!!"

Behind Murphy, the excited, raspy shout of the middle-aged uncle made Leading Pigeon, who had been planning to support his NPC with crossbow fire, jolt in alarm.

He rushed to the other window and saw four veteran Witch Hunters, who had been guarding outside the village, charging toward the entrance. Panic set in, but then he heard his NPC's grim voice whisper in his ear.

"Don't panic! That cart blocking the village entrance is doused in oil, and there are Witch Hunter bombs inside. You've got a gas lamp ready by your hand—twist it open and smash it down!

Let these lunatics taste what it's like to be wrapped in flames!"

Damn, no wonder he's a vampire, that's vicious!

I like it!

Good Pigeon grinned, grabbed the prepared gas lamp from the room, twisted it until a flame flickered out, and hurled it down from the second floor.

The lamp shattered on the dead horse-drawn cart. The sparks summoned the flames, rising like a wall of fire that blocked the four Witch Hunters.

The bombs inside ignited too!

A violent explosion sent the fastest one flying, his cloak catching fire. The other three quickly dragged him back, saving him from becoming a pincushion for follow-up arrows.

But they were overthinking it.

With the players' current noob aim, they couldn't shoot arrows threatening enough to matter!

Just getting the arrows out in one volley was a win.

"These are the ones who butchered this village. These Witch Hunters are all bastards! Brothers, don't hold back! Shoot them to bits!"

Leading Pigeon shouted excitedly, the horrors he'd seen in the village yesterday festering into a rage that burned in his chest.

The two other middle-aged minor players hiding on the second floor swung their hand crossbows to fire in that direction. Their aim was a bit better than Good Pigeon's, and under the chaos, they managed to apply some suppressing fire.

"Ah!"

A scream rang out from behind the female hunter who was chasing Murphy.

She stopped and turned, seeing the door of the house they'd used for the ambush shattered open.

The one-armed veteran Porter was pinned to the ground, two long dung forks pressed into his waist and belly. Two tall militiamen, like they were stabbing a wild boar, bore down on him with excited shouts, while a shorter militiaman hacked at Porter with a hunting knife.

Two had gone in, but only one came out.

The fate of the other Witch Hunter was obvious. The bloodstains on the excited militiamen told the whole story—these damned vampire worshippers!

The land of Transia was riddled with such tumors! This region, poisoned by vampires for four hundred years, was beyond saving!

"Don't worry about me! Little Natalie! Run!"

The one-armed veteran Porter, pinned to the ground, gritted his teeth and shouted to his captain. He fumbled for a bomb, intending to take the vampire worshippers with him, but Duo Dao Le San Wu Dou, quick-eyed and swift-handed, kicked it away. Then Mirian, shrieking, burst out with a wooden club and smashed it down on his head.

The fury of a burned home and a slaughtered village was unleashed in full force. The young woman of Transia, fierce as a she-wolf in that moment, rained blow after blow onto the veteran.

Meow Brother, covered in blood, staggered out of the house.

His leg had been slashed, leaving him limping, but he was ecstatic. Gripping a hunting rifle looted from another Witch Hunter beaten down by the mob, he dropped into a kneeling firing stance outside, looking the part.

"Holy crap! A sniper! A 98K! The mob dropped loot!"

Coo-Coo Chicken, who had just beaten the scout Witch Hunter Amber bloody, turned his head, panting, and caught sight of Meow Brother's pose, blurting out in surprise.

"Bang"

Meow Brother pulled the trigger. A round lead ball flew from the barrel, only to land three feet away from the female Witch Hunter in front of him, kicking up a puff of dust, under Murphy's speechless gaze.

What terrible aim was that?

Missing a ten-meter target with a rifle?

"Cough, not my fault! This thing has no rifling!"

Meow Brother knew he'd made a fool of himself, frantically reloading while cursing in his own defense.

He had a point!

In FPS games, he was always a quick-scope god with a sniper. Who knew that in a real game, he'd miss this badly? This had to be a physics engine problem, right? How could it be his fault?

He was clearly a beast with a sniper!

"You're so useless, Meow Brother. Move!"

The only girl among the twelve minor players couldn't take it anymore.

She rushed to Meow Brother's side, snatched the long hunting rifle from his hands, and with a click, pressed down the barrel to load the bloody lead ball. She glanced left and right with professional ease.

"Classic break-action smoothbore design. Good thing it's not a flintlock—I've never used one of those. But why are the bullets still spherical? What kind of trajectory does that give?

So unscientific, huh?"

She muttered under her breath, held the stance for a few seconds, and the moment Murphy and the female hunter separated again, she pulled the trigger decisively.

"Bang"

A spray of blood burst from the female hunter's back, making her stumble.

The cunning Murphy seized the chance to lunge forward, stabbing the fierce female hunter and kicking away her dangerous oak-burning sword, drawing cheers from the surrounding minor players.

"Hey, what do you do in real life?"

Meow Brother, his face burning, stared wide-eyed at the heroic Lumina Sunscar beside him and couldn't help asking. She rolled her eyes, clicked the rifle open again to reload, and shrugged as she answered quietly:

"Just a student. I go to the shooting range twice a week. What, didn't you guys have hobbies in school?"

The female hunter, ambushed and surrounded, realized she was at a complete disadvantage. Seeing that damned vampire about to charge again, she knew she had no time to draw another sword. She stepped back, reached behind her, and grabbed the thing she'd been carrying all along.

It was heavy—even for a seasoned Witch Hunter, it required both hands.

A metal ring-shaped bolt magazine was fixed to a wooden frame. Inside, a small steam furnace ignited and pressurized, burning gold catalyst volatilizing into the propulsion tubes. White high-pressure steam gushed from the exhaust vents, silver-gray gears spun, driving the entire precision mechanical structure to accelerate with a piercing clatter.

She aimed the dark maw of the Automatic Hunter Crossbow at the charging Murphy.

He flinched and dodged like a monkey, just as one of the middle-aged duo on the second floor, Bulldozer Man Attack, glanced back. His soul nearly fled his body as his eyes bulged and he shouted:

"R-R-R-Ratling Gun!"

But it was too late.

Bolts flew out like a storm, adjusted by the female hunter Natalie to sweep across the high ground. They easily pierced the walls, turning the three minor players who had been suppressing the village reinforcements into sieves. Then she swung the muzzle to spray the damned vampire-worshipping militiamen.

The minor players scattered in panic, clutching their heads. Their crude plan had never accounted for the Witch Hunter pulling out something as unscientific as a "Ratling Gun."

"Inside! Get inside!"

Mirian dragged the female player Lumina Sunscar, whose leg had been broken, into the house. The latter felt the pain but found it wasn't as bad as she'd expected.

The pain dampening had already kicked in. She struggled, eager to fight back with the hunting rifle, but Mirian held her down tight.

Murphy's temporary assistant heard the roar of the Automatic Hunter Crossbow outside. As a student at the College of Engineering, she knew full well that with that thing in play, Murphy's ambush plan was hanging by a thread.

Once Murphy and his summons were defeated, her own fate would be anything but kind.

So Mirian gritted her teeth and made up her mind, reaching into her bodice to pull out an object. She turned and shoved it into the hands of a sturdy player beside her, then pointed outside at the female hunter while making a stabbing motion.

A-Cha's good buddy and fellow jock, "Chen Dian Niu Niu Not Afraid of Difficulty," looked at the thing in his hands, then at the anxious female NPC gesturing toward the outdoors.

He understood immediately. Drawing a deep breath, he charged out with the hopes of the whole village on his shoulders.

Murphy, currently being driven into a frenzy by the relentless suppression of the Automatic Hunter Crossbow, was pulling off a classic move straight out of an anime or movie—unleashing his vampire mobility in the shadows as a continuous line of deadly bolts chased after him.

Wood chips flew, dust scattered everywhere.

Murphy could only dodge for dear life, never daring to stop.

The female hunter adjusted the aim of her crossbow. Each rotation of the steam-driven magazine fired over a dozen bolts, with a rate of fire comparable to an automatic rifle.

It made Murphy feel like he was dodging a hail of bullets, risking his life with every move. One slip, and this mechanical contraption would turn him into a sieve.

But he also noticed the little player charging out of the house.

The latter sprinted over with a ferocious expression, eyes bloodshot, nostrils flaring like a wild bull on a rampage. In his raised hand, he clutched something.

It was a metal cylinder shaped like a pen, perfectly smooth and not something that looked handmade. At its very top was a button. As Chen Dian Niu Niu slammed it, a slender injection needle popped out from the other side, glinting with a chilling light in the sunset.

The female hunter sensed the wind at her back.

But she couldn't stop suppressing the fire, because Murphy had changed direction and was lunging straight at her.

She raised her wrist.

The sighting hole locked onto Murphy.

All she had to do was pull the trigger, and a cunning, sinful soul would vanish from this world.

Time seemed to stretch infinitely in that moment, then snapped back to normal the next.

Click.

The crisp sound of the magazine spinning empty made Natalie's eyes fly wide open, and at the same moment, Chen Dian's attack landed.

"Pfft." A faint, almost inaudible sound, like a mosquito bite, drove the sharp injection needle into her neck.

The next instant, a terrifying dizziness and numbness erupted from a body that had clearly been enhanced by natural spiritual energy. Natalie gritted her teeth and hurled the hunter crossbow at the vampire, but he dodged it nimbly and followed up with a kick.

Thud.

She hit the ground, disheveled and defeated. In her spinning, fading vision, the last thing she saw was the vampire raising his sword at her in the twilight sun.

The hunt was over, but she had failed.

How disgraceful!