Chapter 1: Multinational Counter Terrorism Force
Did you ever imagine getting isekai’d into a game?
It’s a common fantasy, right? Stepping into a game world, becoming an overpowered badass, conquering everything.
It’s the kind of daydream every burnt-out student has while rolling an eraser between their fingers.
Getting isekai’d into a game is a popular trope. Tons of novels and webtoons are based on it.
But there’s something odd about this trend.
Why are these games almost always fantasy?
The reason is simple.
Fantasy settings offer escapism. They tantalize us with new worlds, unexplored civilizations, and the satisfying thrill of good versus evil, things we can’t experience in the real world.
So, what about FPS games?
Games where bullets whiz past your face, grenades explode overhead, and peeking around a corner earns you an instant headshot.
Imagine getting isekai’d into a hopeless FPS game like that.
Huh? You can’t imagine it? You think it’d be fun? That being overpowered is possible in FPS too?
Bull
.
Let me debunk your optimistic fantasies.
Imagine watching your comrades fall, riddled with bullets.
Imagine your commanding officer, the one you promised to marry, getting blown to bits by a grenade.
Imagine getting deployed at a moment’s notice, no questions asked.
Imagine being on constant high alert because some terrorist group spams ads like a mobile game.
Oh, sorry. Got a little carried away.
Let me give you the straightforward conclusion:
It
sucks.
How can I be so sure?
Because I got isekai’d into an FPS game.
.
As a woman, no less.
Force of Six.
An FPS game where special forces from around the globe team up to stop a world-threatening terrorist organization, Black Mamba.
Why the game explanation?
To show you how utterly hopeless this game is.
Those sitting comfortably at their computers, clicking keyboards and moving mice, have no idea.
For someone trapped inside, every single day is hell.
“
! ”
BOOOOOOM!!!
An explosion rocks the earth, sending debris flying.
“Dammit! What the hell is Alpha Team doing?! Those BM (Black Mamba) bastards are tearing us apart! Send reinforcements,
! ”
The acrid smell of gunpowder fills the air.
Dirt and dust swirl in a blinding cloud.
Burning barrels tumble through the sky.
‘Like some kind of Spider-Drum-Man. Metal barrels flying through the air…’
I’m hunkered down behind a metal container with my teammate.
Bullets rain down. Grenades arc overhead.
Snipers watch us like hawks. One peek and they’ll blow my head off.
And then I’d be discharged from life.
And…
I look at the bodies.
My squadmates. Alive just moments ago.
One wandered out, got sniped, instant death.
Another tried to drag the body back, got turned into Swiss cheese.
And…the one who raised a death flag about his fiancée back home? Got clipped by a stray bullet.
It’s absolute chaos.
“
! ”
My teammate slams his fist against the dead radio.
He and I are the last survivors of Beta Team.
“What’s the status on Alpha Team’s support?!”
RATATATAT!!!! BANG BANG BANG!!! BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!
“What?!”
The gunfire drowns out my voice. I yell louder.
“Are reinforcements coming?!”
He finally hears me, shakes his head, tears streaming down his face.
No support from Alpha Team.
No support.
Meaning we’re completely stranded. Deep in enemy territory.
“Mom…”
“Shut up.”
He’s given up, calling for his mother.
Giving up over this? After all that training?
I can’t die here.
Not until I shove a grenade up command’s
.
“What are you doing?!”
He watches me, tears still flowing, as I stand up.
If this were a bar, him looking up at me like this with a disgusted expression would be a reward. But this is a warzone. Rewards don’t matter if I’m dead.
“You giving up here?! Don’t you want to see your mom again? You gonna go before her?”
“
! There’s nothing we can do, Captain! Snipers are playing whack-a-mole with us! What can we do?!”
“Don’t worry. I’m not dying until I’ve given command a piece of my mind…and a grenade.”
“What are you planning?”
I give him a smile.
Not a beautiful smile. The most cowardly smile in the world.
“Are they all dead?”
“Seems like it, sir.”
A man in a bizarre mechanical mask.
Big Brother, the leader of Black Mamba.
He’s notoriously cruel.
After the US bombed one of his bases, he retaliated with a bio-chemical attack on a college campus, killing 40 students.
The US, understandably furious, vowed to wipe out Black Mamba. They deployed a massive force and created a special anti-terrorist unit, recruiting special forces from all over the world.
We were all hand-picked aces. I made it onto the Korean team with top marks.
Command rushed us into action, and this is the result.
“We’re leaving this place. They’ve found our base.”
“Yes, Leader! We’ll be ready right away!”
Big Brother prepares to leave. His men follow suit. I prepare to take him out.
I’ve been playing dead, hidden under the bodies of my team, letting them think we’re all wiped out.
I calculate.
His route.
And plan my attack.
The dirtiest, cheapest tactic I can think of.
Hidden, I use a tool to bore a small hole through the wall. My gun barrel points towards his path.
Finally, he starts moving.
One step.
One step.
One step.
Come closer.
One more step and your head gets a new hole.
Big Brother enters my sights. I squeeze the trigger without hesitation.
THWACK!!!
“Gah!!!”
“Leader!!!”
“There are still enemies here!! Find them!!”
The bullet hits him square in the head. He collapses, blood gushing.
My teammates avenged. Mission accomplished.
Now to escape. They’re searching, but the silencer hides my position.
That’s the beauty of a silenced Bullpup. Cry about it, terrorists.
The tension drains from my body as I watch Big Brother fall. I collapse.
“Captain! Captain!!”
My teammate’s frantic voice fades as…
Ding!
A small window appears before my eyes.
[Final Mission Complete: Congratulations on completing your mission, Code Name Scuro.]
‘Ha… the system window I haven’t seen in years pops up now? After killing Big Brother?’
I finally understand. Big Brother was the game’s final objective. This unhelpful game, silent for years, finally reveals its purpose.
“Oh,
.”
A sharp pain in my back. The metallic tang of blood fills my mouth.
‘Damn, no experience points? I could level up and heal this.’
Of course not.
This game is far too realistic. In all the wrong ways.
[Returning to the real world. Congratulations on your discharge.]
‘But I didn’t even get to…’
I lament, disappointed I couldn’t give that arrogant leader what he deserved.
The system window fades, and so does my consciousness.
I received a dishonorable discharge.