Chapter 3


Players also partook in hackusations; players who managed to avoid damage, scored quick or otherwise 'impossible' kills, or even players on successful killing streaks were accused publicly of cheating in some way. Kirika herself became the subject of them as she became more experienced and began to kill people in streaks. She dismissed them, but came to occasionally respond, depending on her mood.


Omega-killer: white cat hax

Black_Knight: shut up


Despite her best efforts, her team was losing this round. She was in no mood to brush aside a hackusation.

"Hacks, my ass," Kirika said to herself in irritation. "I'll find this asshole."


On the screen, Kirika walked through the departure lounge of a hastily evacuated airport, carbine at the ready. Gunfire from other players sounded in the distance. She came across an enemy player who had appeared from around a corner. The red text floating above the avatar read "Omega-killer."

Excellent.

She fired a burst from her M4A1 carbine, cutting him down. She felt a brief sense of satisfaction as the player crumpled and died.

Now, all I need to do is...


whitekittycat94: meow motherfucker


Scores this round were close. Very close. Seventy-four all. It would only take one kill to win or lose this round. Everyone had to be careful. Of course, some players on both sides were of the run-and-gun sort, liable to get themselves killed. It was behaviour Kirika herself was prone to, but not now.

Kirika inched closer to the screen.

This time, the map was of an abandoned city. Walls were pockmarked with bullets. Windows were cracked where they hadn't been smashed open altogether. Doors to shops were left open. The streets were strewn with rubble.

An enemy player darted out from behind a building. Her hand tensed as she slid the mouse to the left, depressing the left, then the right mouse buttons.

At the same time, Kirika's screen turned red. She was being shot at!

The first two shots missed. The third hit… then the fourth… then the fifth. A miniature fountain of computer-generated blood, too large to be realistic, burst from his avatar.

He was down.

The screen turned black and white.

VICTORY!

"Yeah! That's right, motherfuckers!" Kirika yelled triumphantly. "How do you like them apples?!"

"Hey." Mireille sounded irritated.

She turned away from the screen. "Yes?"

Mireille stood there, at the entrance to the small kitchen. She looked angry.

"I know you're usually really quiet, and it's great that you're expressing yourself, but try and keep it down, will ya? I nearly cut myself with a knife thanks to your screaming just now."

Her triumphant smile faded, and she hung her head in guilt. "I'm sorry."