It was 2:35 PM.
The men in the pub watched events unfold over multiple screens. Although there was no explanation being written up for context, a sampling of the various monitors told the story well enough.
These were folks who had put up with an entire hour of looking at nothing but milky-white fog. They were made of sterner stuff.
“So Llenn’s team isn’t leaving the tower. Or they can’t.”
The seven survivors of the combined squads of the pink demon and the Amazons were holed up in the tower directly to the north, where they were not attacking the others around them.
“They must be holding back their fire to conserve bullets. That makes sense.”
“I guess they’re staying put and hoping that the other teams will take each other out.”
The five members of MMTM had the tower loosely surrounded from a distance but were not actively attacking, either. They were just keeping it encircled.
“There must be some agreement between David and Vivi.”
ZEMAL was currently moving straight through the center of the small map, convincing other players to head toward Llenn’s location. The audience couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was clear on sight that the people they spoke to were turning on their heels and rushing straight toward Llenn.
The occasional burst of short machine-gun fire was simply the outcome of those who would not go along with the plan.
As a concession from the devs, there was a map on one screen that displayed the location of each surviving player as a moving dot.
Now you show this to us?! the audience all thought, but no one said aloud.
“All the survivors are gathering in the north,” they noted.
The lit dots aside from Llenn’s group and MMTM were all making their way north, like ants converging on a sugar cube.
“If I were down there, I’d sneak away to the south and just hide the whole time…”
“I can see it now. When the toughest team is the last left alive, they’ll track you down and corner you, and you’ll gnash your teeth and cry ‘Dammit! Better this than letting them kill me!’ before you jump over the edge.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you were a prophet.”
It was fun to be in the audience here, because you could eat and drink to your heart’s content and say whatever the hell you wanted to say while you watched other people fight to the death for your amusement.
“So this is setting up a thing where all the bounty-hungry scum come together to beat Llenn’s group, then get slaughtered by ZEMAL and MMTM, so they can face off for the championship, right?”
“Yeah, probably… I’m sure those last two teams are plotting to betray each other.”
“Once you know the outcome, it really drains all the tension out of it… It would be nice to have a new surprise or shocker right about now.”
“Those words mean the same thing.”
“Why don’t you run down there and join the fight, then, smart guy?”
“Oh, sure! Whatever you say! I’ll just dive right into the screen! Is that what you want?!”
“Yeah. Thanks for the mental image.”
“You’re welcome. May I sit here?”
“Be my guest. I kept it warm for you, my lord.”
“Ah, very good, very good… Wait a second, this is my seat!”
“Aaaand scene. Thanks for your assistance, my friend.”
The two of them had taken it upon themselves to accompany the show with some entertainment of their own.
“Can you guys get a room and stop being annoying here?” said a coolheaded watcher of the action. “Isn’t it weird that this much time has passed, but none of the dead participants have come back out to watch with us? That doesn’t make sense! Right?! Why isn’t anyone talking about this?! Tell me!!”
It turned out that he was not that coolheaded after all.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Our goal is to win, so we’re going to let someone else get the hundred million credits. Tackling the tower is up to all of you. Go crazy on it,” David explained gently to the arriving men, who were all blinded by the promise of riches.
There was a heavy implication in his statement that “You guys will never come close to sniffing the victory,” but he made sure to stoke their greed by mentioning the hundred million credits.
“The current survivors in the tower are SHINC’s leader, one of their gunners, and two snipers. LPFM has their sniper, the tomboy, the little grenadier, and the bounty. Seven in total,” he offered helpfully.
He didn’t know the exact number, but there were close to twenty people in the group, it seemed, and no one was in direct command over them.
They passed by David, giving him sidelong glances. A man in desert camo with an M16A4 said, “I choose to be grateful for your generosity,” fixing him with a rather intense stare.
It was the look of someone who understood full well that David and Vivi were using them as pawns, or disposable tools to wear down their enemies.
And even knowing that, he was on his way to defeat Llenn.
His team had been split up from the start, and none of his squadmates had survived. Winning Squad Jam now was an impossible dream. If there was one way he could actually get back at SJ5 and its horrible special rules, it was this.
“I’ll pray for your good fortune and courage,” said David, who understood the other man’s plight. It was exquisitely sarcastic.
He moved out from behind the barricade he’d been using as cover and began to withdraw, carefully looking out for anyone who might sneak up on him. He didn’t want to get sniped from the top of the tower at this moment, so he had a teammate stay on watch.
It seemed that Boss and her girls were not looking out at all, however. They were probably staying put and keeping their heads down, hoping all the other teams would wipe each other out.
“But it’s not going to be that easy,” he muttered, a message to the unseen Boss.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Damn. Blast it,” Boss muttered darkly, peering through the binoculars briefly as she stuck her head over the edge a tiny bit.
“Blasted, huh? What is?” asked Fukaziroh, sitting on the spiral stairs.
The population density in the tiny bell-less belfry at the top of the spire was too high, so they were sitting a little bit lower down.
“Your head, probably. From playing too many games,” Clarence said snarkily, her dark clothes a natural camouflage in the gloom, three steps down from Fukaziroh. She was rude as a general rule, but that was just how things worked with Clarence.
“We’re being surrounded by the teams that are left,” Boss announced.
The remaining members of SHINC—Rosa, Anna, Tohma—stayed low and silent atop the tower, the mood gloomy.
“I had a feeling,” admitted Shirley, who was recovering her hit points. “The others have called a temporary truce in order to hunt down Llenn. Someone must have rounded them all up and talked them into it.” She was sitting on the top step of the stairs.
“You had a feeling, and you didn’t tell us?! You should share that kind of information!” Clarence pouted, although she still sounded like she was having fun. She was always having fun; that was just how things worked with Clarence.
“It was only one of a number of possibilities I foresaw. And if Boss is our leader, I’m not going to tell her what to do,” Shirley explained.
On the inside, Boss grumbled. Shirley was probably a grown adult in the real world, unlike the teenage high schoolers in SHINC. It wasn’t a bad thing to have a hierarchy within the game, but surely she could have said something if it was on her mind. Of course, Boss wouldn’t say a word of this. She couldn’t.
Instead, she gave a silent apology to M, for making the wrong choice as group leader.
Shirley, meanwhile, told the downcast Boss, “Give me a little space,” as she climbed up the steps to the belfry where the four members of SHINC were all squished together. She popped her head out into the open. “I’ve got an idea for how to get us out of this predicament. May I?” she asked.
She asked because she wanted to give the leader the opportunity to make a decision, but she didn’t offer details because of the lack of time.
“Do it,” Boss said immediately, without asking.
“Good,” Shirley replied, satisfied. Into the comm, she demanded, “Llenn! Hurry back up the stairs!”
“Huh? You want me back?” asked Llenn in surprise, 140 feet below.
“That’s right. And get your second loadout from Fukaziroh. Might as well fight like Pitohui’s team would.”
“Huh…? Oh! I get it!” she cried.
“Hoh-hoh-hoh. Ah, I see, I see. So that’s what you’re after. Then I suppose I’ll oil up these old joints and get ready. Upsy-daisy!” Grandpa Fukaziroh added.
“Hmm?” Boss did not get it yet.
“Nice one, Shirley! It’s a brilliant plan!” said Clarence, pretending she understood.