Chapter 15: The Duel for the Trident

The most distinctive feature of the Red Wasteland is its vast open terrain.

With almost no cover and flat geography, the area naturally forces players into a wide-open line of sight.

This makes it a map where long-range weapons hold a significant advantage.

The occasional sandstorm event may obscure visibility,

but it doesn’t change the fact that melee weapons are nearly useless here.

As a result, very few players use melee weapons in the Red Wasteland.

But what happens when the game enters the later stages?

As the mist closes in, the safe zones shrink over time, gradually nullifying the advantage of range.

Furthermore, the number of players dwindles naturally.

This is when the strengths of melee combat start to shine.

Still, melee weapons are unpopular because surviving until the late game is an immense challenge.

Even with a defensive playstyle, players must move around to gather resources for growth.

If one can somehow endure all these trials and difficulties…

Melee weapons can undoubtedly dominate.

Of course, this applies only to melee weapons that can counter long-range attacks to some extent.

Trash melee weapons with no resistance to ranged attacks are an exception like tridents, forks, or other Poseidon-themed tools.

Take the trident, for example.

There’s no denying it’s a trash weapon.

However, its flashy appearance and attack animations are undeniably well-designed.

In short, it’s fun to watch.

Not that such aesthetics hold any value for me.

As someone who always prioritizes victory, the most important aspect of a weapon is its performance.

Yet, I find myself in a rather unique situation right now.

This time, it’s not just about winning. I need to draw attention.

That’s why I’m running around skewering enemies with this trident.

“G-get away from me!”

The panicked voice of my opponent reached my ears.

Well, it’s understandable. Anyone would panic if faced with a lunatic charging recklessly with a trident.

The opponent immediately opened fire, unloading bullets in a desperate attempt to fend me off.

But I didn’t even bother dodging. I simply tanked the hits and kept charging.

In this game, the importance of physical skill diminishes in the late stages, giving way to the importance of growth.

Victory depends on how thoroughly you farm resources, level up, and assemble set effects.

From that perspective, my victory is practically guaranteed.

I’ve taken down over ten players already, growing at an absurd rate.

I’ve even completed three set effects.

Bullets? They don’t faze me anymore.

Faced with such an abnormal situation, my opponent was visibly terrified.

Unfortunately for them, mercy wasn’t part of my plan.

I dashed forward and thrust my trident directly into their chest.

Their health plummeted to near-zero instantly, leaving them in a critical state.

Another stab finished the job.

I offered a brief moment of silence to the fallen player, pulled the trident from their lifeless body,

and watched as the water was absorbed into the weapon.

After a quick rummage through their loot, I continued on my way.

Repeating this exact process two more times led me to victory.

It felt almost too easy—so easy, in fact, that I was left slightly bewildered.

I had expected to encounter at least some skilled players, even in an amateur tournament.

If this is the competition level, today’s first-place title seems well within reach.

Still, I can’t afford to let my guard down.

As the match ended, I removed my headset, greeted by the overwhelming noise of the commentators’ voices.

“Ugh.”

Are they always this loud?

It’s surprising I didn’t hear them during the game.

The real issue, however, is that I can already guess what they’re talking about and I’m sure it involves me.

This wasn’t baseless confidence but a rational deduction.

Though I had committed to this strategy, I couldn’t help but worry about the aftermath.

Perhaps it would be a good idea to change my username after the tournament ends.

The first match ended, and a five-minute break was announced.

Afterward, the second match would begin.

Naturally, the tournament wouldn’t end after just one round.

Unlike regular solo queue games, tournament matches have a faster tempo, typically concluding in under 30 minutes.

Given the scale of the event, it wouldn’t make sense to wrap up in just half an hour.

Thus, the tournament consists of three matches, with the final rankings determined by cumulative results.

Even with this structure, the format is relatively light.

Amateur tournaments often span five matches or more, sometimes even lasting several days.

Despite this, I stayed put, deliberately keeping to myself.

I didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention.

That’s why I intentionally picked the most secluded spot to sit.

Some fans who peeked over my shoulder might have already realized that I was the infamous “Jjamppong Enthusiast.”

So, the plan was to stay quiet and avoid any unwanted spotlight.

Even though I was bored, there wasn’t much I could do.

Tournament rules required us to hand over our phones,

and engaging in any activities outside the game on the computer was strictly prohibited.

If caught, it would immediately be deemed cheating.

It was a strict setup, but better this than a loose system.

“The second match will now begin.”

The referee’s announcement brought my attention back to the screen.

The next match, of course, started on a completely new map with different conditions.

But memories don’t reset.

Other participants had likely taken notice of me, the winner of the first match.

Those who were eliminated early probably watched every move I made.

On the other hand, having survived the longest, I didn’t get to see anyone else’s gameplay.

In a sense, I was starting at a slight disadvantage.

But that was fine.

Such a minor setback wouldn’t affect the bigger picture.

The gap in skill and preparation was simply too vast.

None of the players I eliminated in the first match were particularly threatening.

And those who died without encountering me? That meant they were even less of a concern.

Of course, it’s possible someone fell victim to sheer bad luck or an unavoidable disaster.

However, such chances were slim, and as long as I remained vigilant, winning all matches seemed achievable.

Now then, time to go for another chicken dinner.

“Hm.”

I entered the waiting room with a bright smile.

A sight that I welcomed more than anything greeted me ruined buildings.

As I’ve mentioned before, this is my favorite map.

It may hold no meaning now, but back when survival in the game was the goal,

it was the only battlefield where remnants of modern civilization could still be felt.

Even if they were just ruins.

This map offered better conditions than the Red Wasteland from earlier.

With plenty of cover and tight spaces for close-quarters combat, melee weapons had a clear advantage here.

How grueling was the midgame in the previous round?

Relying on the sandstorm to block visibility just to take down snipers almost made me curse aloud.

That’s right.

I planned to use melee weapons again this time.

Not just any melee weapon, but the trident.

Once more, I would aim for first place with this unconventional choice.

People tend to go wild over extreme concept players like this.

I picked my spawn point, closed my eyes, and opened them again.

As soon as I landed, I began my search for the trident with laser focus.

“…Ugh.”

I let out an involuntary groan.

Unlike last time, the trident wasn’t easy to find.

Instead, guns and bows of all kinds appeared in abundance. Ranged weapons, everywhere.

It was time to make a decision.

If I didn’t arm myself soon, I could be in real danger during an encounter.

Should I temporarily use another weapon and switch to the trident as soon as I found it?

But that would ruin my trident-only concept.

Last match, I resisted the temptation to pick up a Kar98k, even when it was staring me in the face.

I had no choice now but to hold out with a secondary weapon.

I decided to play cautiously, avoiding other players as much as possible.

“Wait—”

“…Ah.”

No sooner had I made that decision than I ran into someone.

Our eyes met, and for a moment, silence fell between us.

Just as I was about to make a run for it, my gaze locked onto the weapon in my opponent’s hand.

Why do you have that…?

I stared at the trident in their grip, feeling a crushing sense of disbelief.

It was like seeing a cheating lover in someone else’s arms.

Wait, no. I’m a woman now, so would that make it a cheating boyfriend?

Either way, I felt the sting of betrayal coursing through me, a real-time NTR experience.

That gut-wrenching emotion quickly morphed into something far more dangerous a reckless decision.

I’m taking that back.

No, not taking reclaiming what’s mine.

I fixed a deadly glare on my opponent.

The player flinched, clearly shaken.

Their face was familiar; they must have been one of the players I eliminated in the previous match.

Perfect.

“Hand it over, now!”

Without hesitation, I clenched my fists and charged.

The opponent swung the trident to counter,

but I dodged with a swift roll to the side and lunged forward with a body tackle.

The greatest advantage of a trident is its superior reach.

Which meant I had to eliminate that advantage by forcing close-quarters combat.

Seeing my opponent’s balance falter, I swept my leg to trip them.

Once we transitioned to grappling, victory was guaranteed.

But in a situation with no stat differences, getting to that point wasn’t easy.

It didn’t matter. If it didn’t work the first time, I’d just keep trying until it did.

“W-wait! Time out! Hold on!”

“How dare you steal my trident? Unforgivable!”

“Fine! Take it! Just let me live!”

“I don’t need your permission!!”

Grabbing the collar of their outfit, I pulled them closer and hoisted them off the ground.

Maintaining my footing, I spun my body and executed a flawless slam.

The move was clean, precise absolute perfection.

I pinned my opponent to the ground and unleashed a flurry of punches.

The one-sided beating ended with their character’s literal death.

Caught up in the moment, I forgot to even offer a moment of silence for the fallen.

Instead, I raised the trident high, basking in the euphoria of victory.

What I also forgot was that this entire scene was being broadcast live to the tournament audience.