Ten meters. The red dot on my minimap was so close it felt like it was inside my head. The shotgunner was walking slowly, methodically, down the alley. He was checking every shadow. Soon, he would reach this trash container. He would look behind it. He would find me.
My mind was a storm of panic. A direct fight was not an option. It was suicide. My P-19 pistol was useless against his S-12 shotgun at this range. He would fire once. I would die. Game over. Termination.
If I die here, I die for real.
The thought was a sharp needle, piercing through the fear. I had to think. I could not out-fight him. I could not out-run him. The other two were nearby. They would hear the fight and close in.
I had to out-smart him.
My gamer brain, the part of me that had logged thousands of hours in this digital world, took control. It was not panicking. It was calculating. It was searching for a solution. It scanned the environment, not as a real place, but as a game level. A collection of assets. Cover. Choke points. Hazards.
Hazards.
An idea sparked in my mind. A memory from the game. A feature of the Dustgate map. It was a huge risk. A gamble. But it was the only play I had.
Just past this alley, there was a small, open courtyard. In that courtyard, near the center, was a cluster of large, red barrels. In Aegis Protocol, those barrels were explosive. You could shoot them. They would detonate, killing anyone nearby.
I had to hope this world followed the same rules. The same physics. If it did, I had a chance. If it did not, I would be running into an open area with no cover, and my death would be quick.
It was my only shot.
I needed to lure them there. Not just the shotgunner. I needed all three of them. I had to get them all in the same place at the same time. I had to set a trap.
The shotgunner was almost here. Three meters away. I could hear the crunch of his boots on the gravel. I could not wait any longer.
I had to become the bait.
I took a deep breath. Then, I acted. I deliberately kicked my foot out and hit a loose metal can lying on the ground.
CLANG.
The noise was loud in the quiet alley. It echoed off the walls.
"He's here!" the shotgunner yelled. His voice was close. Too close.
I did not wait to see him. I broke from my cover. I ran.
I did not run away from them. I ran toward my target. I sprinted out of the alley and into the small, open courtyard.
The world opened up around me. I felt exposed. Unsafe. I heard footsteps behind me. Heavy, fast footsteps. More than one set.
"Get him! Don't let him escape!" one of them shouted.
I glanced at my minimap. It was working. Three red dots, grouped tightly together, were chasing my little blue arrow. The entire pack was on my tail. The bait was working perfectly.
My heart pounded in my chest. My lungs burned. I ran into the center of the courtyard.
The red barrels were there.
They were exactly where I remembered them. Three large, metal barrels, painted a faded red. They were rusted and dented. They looked real. They looked solid. Please work. Please be explosive.
I did not stop. I ran right past them. I needed distance. I needed to be outside the blast radius.
At the far end of the courtyard was a low stone wall. It was crumbling, but it was cover. I dove behind it, just like I had done to escape the grenade. I landed hard on my shoulder, skidding on the dirt.
I spun around immediately. I brought up my P-19 pistol. My hands were shaking, but my vision was clear.
The three hunters stormed into the courtyard. They saw me behind the wall. They raised their weapons. The leader, the man with the powerful shotgun, was in the front. His two teammates with assault rifles were right beside him.
They were excited. They thought they had me trapped. Their prey was cornered.
They were standing right next to the red barrels.
Perfect.
My mind went quiet. The fear was gone, replaced by a cold, sharp focus. I did not aim at them. I did not aim at the man with the shotgun.
I aimed at the big red barrel in the center of the group.
I held my breath. For the first time since I woke up in this nightmare, my hands were perfectly steady. I saw the iron sights of my pistol line up on the barrel.
I pulled the trigger.
Bang.
The first shot hit the barrel with a loud, metallic CLANG. A small dent appeared on its surface.
The hunters hesitated for a fraction of a second. They were confused. Why was I shooting a barrel?
Bang.
The second shot hit the same spot. The clang was louder this time.
The leader realized what I was doing. His eyes went wide with panic. He opened his mouth to shout a warning.
Bang.
The third shot hit. It punched a hole through the rusted metal.
The world erupted in a blinding flash of orange and black.
A massive fireball engulfed the center of the courtyard. The sound was a deafening roar, a physical force that slammed into me. It was ten times louder than the grenade. The shockwave hit my stone wall like a sledgehammer. The wall cracked. I was thrown back, my head hitting the ground hard. Dust and smoke filled the air. The heat was intense, even from this distance.
For a moment, I could not see anything. I could not hear anything but a loud, painful ringing in my ears.
Did it work?
Then, the notifications appeared in my vision. Bright, beautiful blue notifications.
[ENEMY PLAYER ELIMINATED]
[ENEMY PLAYER ELIMINATED]
It worked.
The fire and smoke started to clear. I slowly pushed myself up and peeked over the broken wall.
The courtyard was a wreck. The ground was scorched black. The red barrels were gone, replaced by twisted, smoking pieces of metal.
It had worked perfectly. Two of the hunters were on the ground. Their bodies were twisted and broken. They were not moving. They were gone.
But he was not.
The third player, the leader with the shotgun, was still on his feet. He had been thrown backward by the blast. He was on the other side of the courtyard, struggling to stand. His armor was smoking. He was wounded. Badly. But he was alive.
He pushed himself up to his full height. He looked across the courtyard, his eyes burning through the smoke. He saw me. His face was a mask of pure, murderous fury.
"YOU!" he roared. His voice was raw with hatred.
He raised his S-12 shotgun. It was still in his hands. He aimed it directly at me.
This was not a hunt anymore. This was a duel.