ShareMax and Sera emerged from the C-shaped building, squinting as their eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight after the dim interior. Their backpacks bulged with precious loot—ammunition that clinked softly with each step, medical supplies hastily stuffed into side pockets, and the reassuring weight of grenades hanging from their tactical vests. The military base sprawled behind them, once a hub of frantic activity now eerily silent except for the occasional creak of metal structures expanding in the heat. The concrete was stained dark in places—visual evidence of the bloodbath that had unfolded minutes earlier.
"Twelve dead," Max murmured, glancing back at the complex. "And we're still standing."
Sera nodded, her hands automatically moving to reload her UMP9. The weapon's mechanism clicked satisfyingly as she slid the fresh magazine home and pulled the charging handle. Her heart still hammered against her ribs, the adrenaline from their previous fight lingering in her system. The sensation was remarkably realistic—pulse elevated, hands slightly trembling, breathing just a bit faster than normal.
"Where to next?" she asked, voice steady despite her racing heart. She brushed a strand of hair from her face, leaving a smudge of dirt on her cheek. Her once-pristine white shirt was now stained with dust and splattered with what looked disturbingly like real blood.
Max checked the map with practiced efficiency, his fingers executing the swiping motion perfectly. The holographic display materialized before him, revealing their position and the shrinking blue circle that would determine their next movements. His eyes scanned the terrain, calculating distances, analyzing risk factors, and identifying potential choke points with a precision that surprised even himself.
"Let's head toward Pochinki," he decided, closing the map. "High loot, but also high risk. We'll get more fights there." His voice carried a hint of excitement that wasn't there before—the thrill of competition awakening something primal within him.
They moved carefully across the open terrain, weaving through sparse trees and low rocks. The wind whispered through the grass, carrying the distant sounds of sporadic gunfire from the east. Every few steps, they would pause, crouch, and scan their surroundings, the motions instinctive rather than planned.
Sera dropped behind a large rock, using it as cover while she surveyed the expansive field ahead of them. Her fingers traced the rough texture of the stone—cool to the touch despite the warm sun overhead. She let out a small gasp of appreciation.
"The grass, the bullet drop, the wind direction... everything feels real," she marveled, eyes wide with wonder. "This level of detail isn't seen in F-rank games. This is C-rank level quality, something only high-ranking game developers with entire teams can create." She turned to Max, expression serious. "How did you do this alone? It should be impossible."
Max smirked, a hint of pride crossing his features before his expression returned to focused determination. His eyes never stopped scanning the horizon, constantly vigilant. The sun highlighted the sharp angles of his face, casting dramatic shadows that made him look older, more serious than his years.
Sera's stream chat was going absolutely crazy, messages flooding in faster than most viewers could read:
"This game is breaking all limits! The terrain deformation is INSANE!" "Sera, ask Max how realistic the physics are! Those bullet trajectories were PERFECT!" "I downloaded the game and it's INSANE. My nerve gear is HEATING UP just running it!" "How is an F-rank developer doing what S-rank companies can't?!"
Before she could relay any of these questions, Max suddenly held up a hand, his body tensing. His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing as he focused on something distant.
"Footsteps. North," he whispered, voice barely audible yet perfectly clear through their team communications. His hand moved to his M416 rifle, fingers wrapping around the grip with practiced ease.
Sera raised her own weapon in response, her excitement rising again. The weight of the UMP9 felt natural in her hands now, as if she'd been wielding it for years rather than minutes. "Let's go," she replied, already moving into a crouch-run position.
They moved through a wheat field, the golden stalks brushing against their clothes with a soft rustling sound. Each step was calculated, each movement purposeful. The wheat parted before them and closed behind, leaving minimal evidence of their passage. Ahead, near a crumbling stone wall weathered by years of neglect, two enemies were hunched over a supply crate, their backs exposed—a fatal mistake in this unforgiving battlefield.
Max signaled with his hand, three quick gestures that Sera interpreted without hesitation. You take the one on the right. I'll take left. On my mark. Their silent communication was flawless, as if they'd been fighting together for years.
"On three," Max whispered, his voice so low it seemed to blend with the rustling wheat. "One… two… three!"
Their guns roared in unison, the sound slicing through the peaceful countryside. Muzzle flashes lit up their positions momentarily, the barrels of their weapons emitting small puffs of smoke. The recoil pushed against their shoulders realistically, forcing slight adjustments to their aim.
The two enemies barely had time to react, their bodies jerking violently as bullets found their marks with devastating precision. They crumpled to the ground, ragdoll physics taking over as they collapsed in heaps beside the crate they'd been so focused on.
A notification appeared in their peripheral vision:
Max (M416) killed Team 19 Player 4. Sera (UMP9) killed Team 19 Player 3.
"That was clean," Sera said approvingly, moving forward to loot their bodies. She knelt beside the fallen players, quickly searching through their inventory with efficient movements. "Level three vest here, and plenty of 5.56 ammo," she reported, transferring items to her own backpack. "We move?"
"We move," Max confirmed, already scanning the horizon for their next challenge. His eyes gleamed with a predatory focus that both thrilled and startled Sera. This was a side of her cousin she'd never seen before—confident, commanding, and utterly in his element.
They ran toward Pochinki, moving through Erangel's diverse terrain with increasing confidence. Rolling hills gave way to small copses of trees, then open fields dotted with abandoned farm equipment. The world felt alive around them—birds occasionally taking flight when they approached, insects buzzing in the grass, and the distant howl of wind through empty buildings.
Max paused at the crest of a hill, pulling a smoke grenade from his tactical vest. With practiced precision, he pulled the pin and tossed it downhill, his eyes tracking its arc with scientific interest. The canister bounced once, twice, before releasing a plume of dense white smoke that began spreading across the landscape.
"See that?" he said, pointing as the smoke billowed and drifted. "The physics system I built accounts for wind speed, terrain elevation, and even moisture in the air. The smoke disperses differently depending on all of those factors." The pride in his voice was unmistakable as they watched the smoke curl and flow like a living thing, gradually thinning as it drifted eastward.
Sera's jaw dropped, her professional streamer persona momentarily forgotten. "That level of realism is unheard of," she breathed, watching the smoke's behavior with fascination. "Even top guilds don't have this tech yet. Their simulations are nowhere near this sophisticated."
The chat exploded with comments, the viewers as astonished as Sera:
"This dude reinvented gaming physics! That's not programming, that's WIZARDRY!" "This can't be an F-rank developer. No way. This is hidden genius level stuff." "Max, you're a monster. I'm uninstalling my other games. Nothing compares to this." "The smoke particles are actually responding to the TERRAIN! HOW?!"
They crested another hill, and there it was—Pochinki sprawled before them, a collection of houses and buildings clustered together like a miniature town. From their vantage point, they could already see the chaos unfolding—muzzle flashes from windows, players darting between buildings, and the occasional explosion sending debris into the air.
"It's a war zone," Sera murmured, her grip tightening on her UMP9.
Max nodded, his expression calculating. "And we're about to join the fray."
They approached cautiously, using trees and terrain for cover. The sounds of battle grew louder—gunfire echoing between buildings, shouts and footsteps, the occasional grenade explosion shaking the ground beneath their feet. They flanked around to the eastern edge of town, approaching a three-story house with red brick walls and numerous windows—perfect for sniping.
Max pressed his back against the wall, peering through a ground-floor window. The interior was dimly lit, dust particles dancing in the shafts of sunlight that penetrated the gloom. He signaled to Sera, holding up three fingers.
"Squad inside," he whispered, his voice barely audible yet crystal clear through their communication system. "Three players. One is watching the stairs, the other two are looting upstairs. They don't know we're here."
Sera crept closer, adjusting her grip on her weapon. A grin spread across her face, the thrill of the hunt evident in her expression. "We push?" she asked, eager for more action.
Max shook his head, his eyes calculating. "No. We make them come to us."
There was something in his tone—a strategic confidence that sent a shiver down Sera's spine. This wasn't just gameplay; this was artistry.
Max pulled out a fragmentation grenade, weighing it in his hand. The metal was cool against his palm, the pin offering just enough resistance to require deliberate force. He counted three seconds in his head, then tossed it with perfect accuracy through an open second-floor window.
Time seemed to slow as they watched the grenade's arc. It sailed through the air, a perfect parabola that ended with the grenade disappearing into the darkened interior. A moment of silence followed—one heartbeat, two—then chaos erupted.
The explosion rocked the house, glass shattering outward in a glittering spray. Dust and debris billowed from the windows as the structure itself seemed to shudder. A scream cut through the air, abruptly silenced by the roar of the blast.
A notification appeared in their vision:
Max (Grenade) knocked Team 11 Player 2.
Max's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "They'll panic. Now, we rush."
Without hesitation, he sprinted forward, vaulting through a first-floor window with athletic grace. The sound of breaking glass punctuated his entrance as he rolled to his feet inside, weapon already raised and scanning for targets.
Sera moved simultaneously, charging through the front door and taking the stairs two at a time. The wooden steps creaked under her weight, announcing her presence, but she moved with such speed that it hardly mattered.
Upstairs, the remaining two enemies had moved to revive their fallen teammate—exactly as Max had predicted. They huddled together, one frantically attempting to help their downed comrade while the other provided cover. The room was in disarray, furniture overturned, a grenade crater in the wooden floor, and dust still settling from the explosion.
Max appeared in the doorway like an avenging spirit, his M416 already tracking the first target. A three-round burst erupted from his weapon, the bullets finding their mark with unerring precision. The enemy dropped instantly, their body crumpling beside their fallen teammate.
The last opponent spun toward Max, weapon raising, but Sera had already reached the top of the stairs. Without even aiming down her sights, she hip-fired her UMP9 at close range. The spray of bullets caught the enemy in the chest and head, ending the threat before it could materialize.
Two more notifications appeared:
Max (M416) killed Team 11 Player 3. Sera (UMP9) killed Team 11 Player 1. Team 11 eliminated.
"Textbook execution!" Sera cheered, her voice echoing in the now-silent house. She high-fived Max, the impact of their hands producing a satisfyingly realistic sound. "We should do this professionally. We'd make a fortune in the competitive circuit."
Max chuckled, already moving to loot the bodies. "Maybe we should. But first, let's win this match."
They ransacked the house quickly, taking only what they needed—ammunition, medical supplies, weapon attachments, and a few grenades to replace the one Max had used. The entire process took less than thirty seconds, their movements efficient and purposeful.
"Blue's coming in," Max noted, gesturing to the map. "We need to move."
They exited the house and ran toward the road, their footsteps crunching on broken glass and debris. In the distance, Sera spotted a gleaming object—a motorcycle leaning against a tree, its chrome surfaces reflecting the afternoon sun.
"Transportation," she pointed out, already changing direction toward it.
Max grinned, a rare expression of pure joy breaking through his tactical demeanor. "Time to test the stunts."
They reached the motorcycle, examining it briefly. Every detail was perfect—from the textured grip on the handlebars to the tread pattern on the tires. Max swung his leg over the seat, settling into the driver's position with practiced ease. Sera climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist for stability.
"Hold tight," Max warned, turning the imaginary key. The bike roared to life beneath them, the engine's rumble vibrating through their bodies. It was so realistic that Sera could feel the heat from the exhaust against her leg.
The moment the wheels touched the pavement, Max twisted the throttle. The bike's acceleration was smooth yet powerful, pushing them back slightly as they shot forward. The suspension system absorbed the small bumps and dips in the road, creating a remarkably authentic riding experience.
"This thing handles better than real-life bikes!" Sera laughed as they sped up a hill, the wind rushing past them, forcing her to shout to be heard. The countryside blurred around them, a smear of greens and browns punctuated by the occasional structure.
"Watch this!" Max called back, spotting a natural ramp formed by a large rock jutting from the hillside. He aimed directly for it, increasing their speed.
The bike hit the ramp at full throttle, launching them into the air. Sera's stomach dropped as they went airborne, the ground falling away beneath them. For a heart-stopping moment, they hung suspended, the bike beginning to flip forward in a controlled rotation. The world spun around them—sky, ground, sky again—before Max somehow managed to level them out just in time for landing.
The tires connected with the ground with a satisfying thud, the suspension compressing to absorb the impact before they sped off again, hardly losing any momentum.
The chat exploded with excitement:
"MAX IS A STUNT GOD!" "Physics engine = 100/100. That flip was PERFECT!" "This is NOT an F-rank game. NO WAY. I refuse to believe it!" "Did you see how the SUSPENSION COMPRESSED on landing? That's REAL physics!"
Their moment of joy was cut short as the roar of engines approached from behind. In the side mirror—a detail so small yet so perfect—Max spotted a convoy of vehicles in pursuit. Two Dacia cars, each loaded with a full squad, were gaining on them rapidly. Muzzle flashes erupted from the windows as the occupants opened fire, bullets whizzing past them with alarming proximity.
"They're hunting us!" Sera shouted, ducking instinctively as a round passed close enough to ruffle her hair.
Max's mind worked rapidly, analyzing terrain, distances, and angles. His eyes locked onto a two-story building ahead—sturdy construction, multiple windows, tight interior spaces. Perfect for defense.
With a dramatic skid that sent dirt and gravel flying, Max brought the bike to a halt beside the building. He jumped off in one fluid motion, already readying his weapon.
"Let them chase us into the squad house. We'll trap them," he said, voice cold and focused once more. The playful stunt driver was gone, replaced by the tactical genius.
They sprinted into the building, boots pounding against the wooden floor. Max immediately moved to secure the upper level while Sera watched the entrance. Outside, the cars skidded to a stop, engines dying as doors opened and slammed shut. The sounds of multiple footsteps approached—cautious but determined.
"Four-man squad. They're coming up," Max said, his enhanced hearing picking up every subtle noise. He could distinguish individual footsteps, the metallic sounds of weapons being readied, even hushed whispers as the squad communicated.
Instead of anxiety, Max felt a strange calm settle over him. He pulled out three grenades, weighing them in his palm with a thoughtful expression. "We use their aggression against them. Watch and learn."
The first grenade left his hand with surgical precision, sailing down the stairs in a perfect arc. It landed at the feet of the lead enemies just as they entered the ground floor, the metal canister clinking against the wooden boards. Their eyes widened in the split second before detonation.
BOOM! The explosion shook the building, dust raining from the ceiling as the shockwave propagated through the structure. Screams and shouts followed, cut short by the devastation.
A notification appeared:
Max (Grenade) knocked Team 7 Player 1.
The remaining squad members scattered in panic, exactly as Max had anticipated. One dashed behind a wall for cover, another ducked into a side room, while the third tried to drag their downed teammate to safety.
Max smirked, already preparing his second grenade. "Exactly what I wanted."
The second grenade flew through the air, bouncing once before rolling behind the wall where one enemy had retreated. The player never saw it coming.
BOOM! Another explosion, another scream cut short.
Max (Grenade) knocked Team 7 Player 2.
"They're panicking!" Sera laughed, watching them scramble below like ants whose hill had been disturbed. "They have no idea what to do!"
The last two enemies finally realized the danger of their position. They shared a brief glance of understanding—they needed to retreat and regroup. But as they turned toward the exit, their escape route was cut off by Max's final grenade, landing perfectly between them.
BOOM! The third explosion was the loudest yet, the shockwave rattling windows throughout the building.
Max (Grenade) killed Team 7 Player 3. Max (Grenade) killed Team 7 Player 4. Team 7 eliminated.
The entire squad had been wiped before they even fired a shot, destroyed by Max's precise grenade placements and understanding of human behavior under pressure.
A profound silence fell over the building. Sera stared at Max in awe, genuinely impressed by what she had just witnessed. "You didn't even see them. You just knew where they'd go," she said, voice filled with newfound respect. "That wasn't luck—that was prediction."
Max shrugged, reloading his weapon with practiced efficiency. His expression revealed nothing, but deep inside, he allowed himself a moment of pride. "I am a pro," he said simply, as if that explained everything.
Her chat went absolutely insane:
"MAX IS A STRATEGIC GENIUS!" "No wonder this game is next level—look who created it!" "I need to learn how to grenade like that. That was SURGICAL PRECISION." "Is Max a military strategist? Those were TEXTBOOK ambush tactics!"
They left the squad house, stepping over the remnants of their ambush. Outside, the battlefield had grown quieter—fewer gunshots in the distance, fewer players remaining. The kill feed at the edge of their vision showed their names repea