BXBX NOVEL Chapter 73: Boom! Headshot!
"Death Seekers," the defender replied through clenched teeth.
I couldn't help but smile at what would become my new norm. I didn't really care about him, but every Reaper was a valuable resource. And I, who wanted to overthrow the world, not only had to kill as many undead as possible, but I also needed to protect as many reapers as I could.
"Don't think too much about it, reaper. I will fight so that you don't have to. May your fate end the darkness. Farewell."
[Limitless, a new zone has been selected, please state your intention]
{Reaper NA20230799-FRM, John Smith reporting for combat.}
In response to my words, brilliant lights shone from my feet again. This time I was able to look down and see the emblem of the Death Seekers being drawn below me.
{Welcome John Smith, initiating summon. Entering zone 1084-3 in 3...2...1...}
When the re-creation of the emblem was complete, I again felt like I was being thrown into a free-falling elevator. A couple of seconds later, I had the familiar feeling of being slammed into the ground.
The feeling brought me to my knees. Maybe it was because it was my second time. The falling sensation and the arrival didn't bother me as much as before.
"But fuck, this is going to take some getting used to," I complained. Unable to stop myself from having my mood soured, I tried to get up.
[Limitless, welcome to zone 1084-3. This siren is a Priority 5 and was issued 20 minutes ago. Would you like a sitrep?]
"Please do Aira."
The alert priority system was something the mercenaries came up with. Basically, because of the way the zones are designed, it was hard to respond to every single siren. Ideally, Mercenaries wouldn't be needed at all, but life was never fair. Zones fell every hour on the hour.
Due to the limited amount of manpower available, each mercenary was given a grade indicating the jobs they were allowed to handle. As a rookie, I was naturally at Priority 5 or the lowest rank.
This meant that I could only respond to Priority 5 sirens. These were the lowest kinds and had little to no impact on the overall war. The more missions I completed however, the faster my rank would increase.
From the mercenary downloads, I learned how complicated the Reaper War had become over the years. Each floor had 7 tiers, and each tier's zones depended on its proximity to the boss room. This meant that each floor had 28 zones of varying difficulty.
Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but the reapers eventually learned that they didn't have to clear all the rooms to get to the next floor.
Floor.jpg
Just like in games, some played as speed runners, while others liked to complete everything the game had to offer.
This difference in mindset also manifested itself in the way the battlefronts waged war. Each continent had a specific style of how they wanted to clear their floors. The greatest floor number a continent fought on was called the frontline.
Europe, for example, had both the fewest Reapers and the lowest casualty rate, they played like a completionist. They only got to the 39th floor.
But every European floor had 100% purification, or all 28 zones were under Reaper control. That meant they didn't have to worry about their backs being attacked outside of a floor break.
Asia, on the other hand, did the opposite, boasting a large Reaper pool, they played speedrunners. Reaching up to floor 52, they usually completed the absolute minimum per floor.
They averaged only 10 to 12 zones per floor or 42% purification. This meant that their 12 zones were attacked by 16 zones worth of undead. Forget beachheads, Asia usually fought surrounded on multiple fronts, resulting in catastrophic encounters on a daily basis.
Each approach had its pros and cons. Better loot from deeper levels or faster growth of Reapers or, ultimately, the number of fatalities.
North America was one of the battlefronts that took a balanced approach. We learned that if you clear every floor with no exceptions, your wraiths will be forced to fight on the front lines.
On the other hand, if you left too many zones open and unprotected, the defenders would quickly be overrun. Both situations resulted in a loss of combat power.
So NA's approach was to take the center and achieve a 60% purification level, or 17 zones. 11 zones on the "wings" would be left for the Wraiths to get combat training without much risk. It wasn't perfect, but it provided the best long-term results.
Priority 5 sirens were calls to 11 training zones on each floor 40 floors behind the front line.
Priority 4 was for wings 30 floors behind.
Priority 3 was for core and wing zones up to 20 floors behind.
Priority 2 was for zones 10 floors behind.
And finally, Priority 1, the highest, was strictly for within 9 floors of the front line.
This was because the 9 floors behind the front were the Specters' lifeline. These zones were the only thing the Specters could call on for help. If the line was cut, the undead would quickly surround the Specters and either crush them with wave tactics or push them until they collapsed.
Unlike the undead, who never tired, hungered, or rested, reapers could only survive for a short time on will power. They still needed to rest their minds, bodies, and souls. Although they were humans who had returned from the dead, Reapers were still very much like people.
[Roger, I detect the presence of 1 Phantom and 2 Wraiths. They are currently under siege by a small force of 50 Rank F undead led by a Rank E Undertaker. The defenders have already been informed of your arrival. Do you wish to speak with them?]
"Yes, please connect me to them."
[You are now connected to the defender network.]
After thanking Aira, I addressed the surviving Reapers and tried to get a sense of my surroundings.
"Reapers, I am John Smith, a mercenary who responded to your dirge siren. Where are you and what is your status?"
A gruff voice came from the line. Both exhaustion and relief could be heard in his words.
[You magnificent bastard! This is Scott Davis, an adventurer. The defender is unconscious and hemorrhaging. We stabilized him, but my partner and I are injured and out of souls. We used a soulgear to block the castle door, but it will not last long. There are about 50 zombies led by an Undertaker].
The undertakers were skeletal mages who carried lanterns. They were weak, but had the power to resurrect undead of lesser rank. This meant that the defenders probably tried to kill the zombies several times, only to have the Undertaker bring them back into battle.
[Before you ask, we tried to kill the undertaker, but there were two of them. We barely managed to kill one. I'm sorry, but we're in no shape to help you. We will fire a flare, so head for it. Kill the Undertaker before you kill the zombies. Good luck].
As usual, there was no light in Hellsgate. Good thing he thought of using a flare, otherwise I wouldn't know how to find them. A few seconds later, a bright scarlet flame lit up the sky. With {Thief} I ran towards the flare, armed with the AR15.
"Understood. Wait for me, I will save you."
Soon, I saw a medieval castle on a hill. The towers and walls of the castle were still in one piece. Then I noticed a tornado of fire blocking the place where the drawbridge should be.
"The tornado must be the soulgear, but it is still impressive that a simple medieval castle could block undead. I guess the lack of brains made it possible."
The horde of zombies all stood in front of the tornado, waiting for it to dissipate. Much like an undead chief, the undertaker had the ability to lead and command the zombies.
I tried to find high ground and set up the M24 sniper rifle in a prone shooting position. Most of the leader type zombies used their hordes like a wall. So assassinating the bastard was the fastest way to kill him. The light from the fires gave me a clear view of the undertaker as his jaw chattered.
Snipers were the bane of officers for good reason. In the age of chivalry, commanders rode on top horses and wore flashy gear that proclaimed their importance to the world.
When snipers started shooting the most conspicuous ones during World War I, the military started dressing them up like everyone else. Funny stories emerged of officers deliberately stripping off anything that indicated their position for fear of being shot.
This was also why snipers were feared as a whole. Without a leader, a large army was nothing more than a mob. I aligned the sights of the M24 and checked the distance.
"Hmm. 900 yards. Let's go for it."
The M24 was the military version of the Remington Model 700. It had an effective range of 875 yards and a maximum range of just over a thousand yards.
This basically meant that its bullet would be fairly accurate for 875 yards. Of course, this was taking into account all the nuances that affect that bullet.
What made a sniper above average was being able to shoot accurately past the effective range of the weapon. While luck was a huge factor, some of it could be mitigated by skill and experience.
One of the issues bullets faced was gravity. Because the bullet falls to the ground, the shooter has to guess how far the bullet will fall the farther it goes.
For this reason, scopes had numerous little lines across the crosshairs called mils and subtentions. These were a quick way to indicate the drop at fixed distances. Of course, you still had to determine wind and heat convection, but knowing these things were the basics of being a sniper.
I had the M24 with a Knightforce NXS 5.5-22x56mm scope using the Knightforce MOAR-T reticle. It was straightforward with 1 mil markings and 0.2 mil subtensions. I tried using the Horus TREMOR3, but that thing was confusing as fuck.
Shooting at 100 and 1000 yards were two completely different beasts. My shooting at 1000 yards sucked balls due to the complexity of the ballistic, wind and heat convection calculations. But when I trained yesterday, my shooting was almost mythical. Why do you ask?
" {Mage}".
Due to my fates, physics had nothing on my rounds. And so, like swatting a firefly, I took down an undertaker by smashing his forehead with a 7.62 lead FMJ with a single trigger pull.
"Boom! Headshot! hahaha."