Tech Hero in Another World
Chapter 126: [125] Kiriya’s past (6)

Chapter 126: [125] Kiriya’s past (6)

The match pressed on, and Team Seventeen found themselves close to eliminating nearly every other team... when suddenly, a new announcement boomed from a speaker mounted on one of the support pillars.

"Aah... dear participants! To celebrate this special day, the organizers are bringing you a surprise challenge: three members of an elite special forces unit have entered the game!"

Ren whipped his head toward Fujisawa, eyes wide. "They’re actually doing it!?"

Kiriya bit his lip, realizing the game had just escalated—fast. "Only three of them, yeah—but they’re real soldiers! This isn’t just for fun anymore!"

Fujisawa rubbed his chin, trying to calm his teammates. "Relax. They probably added some handicaps to make it entertaining—not totally insane."

The speaker crackled again, this time with more excitement:

"Each of these special forces members is worth... 100 points! Don’t worry—we’ve scaled the difficulty so everyone can still have a happy, fun time!"

Ren ran the numbers in his head. "A hundred points... If we tag even one of them, we win outright!"

Kiriya took a deep breath, knowing this was both a golden opportunity and a major risk. "Yeah, but... they’re real combat-trained soldiers."

Fujisawa slapped Ren on the shoulder, his tone suddenly sharp and decisive. "This is our golden moment, kid. We’ve held our own against weekend warriors—now it’s time to prove we can hang with the big leagues and secure my dinner!"

Ren clenched his fist, adrenaline pumping hard. "Alright... then tell me the formation," he said, voice tight with both eagerness and tension.

Fujisawa exhaled slowly before answering, "Okay, listen up—let’s start with the basics first..." He then launched into a clear breakdown of their next-phase strategy and team formation.

---

Captain Hoshino watched the small monitor in the command room while his two subordinates—Sergeant Arai and Constable Sato—prepared themselves on the field of the 15-story arena. Their headsets buzzed with the footsteps of participants and distant instructions from the control center. Their mission: eliminate the rookie team with high efficiency, keeping within the boundaries of fair play.

"This team... is different," Hoshino muttered. "They’re amateurs, but they’ve managed to take down nearly every other team." He made a note on his tablet.

Arai, already fired up, clenched his fist. "Yeah, even with our own junior embedded in this thing, they still beat them... Guess this might be worth it after all."

"Right. They’re using formation tactics, minimizing chatter, executing clean—doesn’t sound like kids at all." Hoshino turned to Sato. "One minute left. Remember, this isn’t real combat. Keep it clean. But they’re playing sharp, so we should too."

Sato gave a firm nod. "One minute. Standing by."

The red light on the monitor flicked to green—go time. The special unit, codenamed "Karasuno"—Hoshino, Arai, and Sato—entered the arena from a diagonal back corridor, giving them freedom to move vertically between floors. They stepped into a wide warehouse-like hall, full of concrete pillars and maze-like turns—perfect for stealth and precision tactics.

Hoshino moved forward silently. Through his headset, he ordered: "Split up. Arai right, Sato left. I’ll go straight to the second floor. Sweep them clean." His voice was calm and professional.

Arai took the right corridor, footsteps silent. His sharp eyes scanned for movement. He knew their tactics would require speed, coordination, and near-sensory communication. A dim light flickered at the end of the hallway—prime contact zone.

He leaned in and stepped forward, silent. Spotting a shadow behind the pillar, he shifted position and fired—direct hit on the opponent’s chest plate sensor. "Feel that?" he wondered as the infrared tag registered on Ren’s chest display.

He saw the jolt in their reactions—Ren and Kiriya stumbled back a second, while Fujisawa instinctively created distance with practiced reflexes.

Arai reported through comms: "Primary contact. They’re reacting. Expect counter from the soldier-type."

Sato kept a low profile on the left flank, calculating oxygen levels, ambient temperature, and the position of the artificial lighting. He spotted Fujisawa adjusting his stance—preparing to retaliate.

Sato slipped through a side door and took a higher position. From above, he lined up his reticle with Fujisawa’s back—then fired. A solid hit.

Fujisawa ducked quickly, taking minimal damage, and readied to retreat. Sato’s shot added pressure but wasn’t a full elimination.

Meanwhile, in the heart of the arena, Ren, Kiriya, and Fujisawa moved quickly in a closed triangle formation—Fujisawa as front leader, Ren in the middle, Kiriya holding the flank.

Ren heard the shot from Arai, then saw Fujisawa fall back behind a concrete column.

Unexpectedly, Kiriya moved fast. He adjusted his helmet, then raised his compact airsoft gun toward the origin of the shot. A clean shot hit Sato’s left arm—"hit registered" flashed on the HUD.

Hoshino reacted instantly over the headset. "Quick shot. Fall back and cover! We’re pulling up!"

Ren took advantage of the confusion, bolting for the next column. Footsteps echoed—Arai was closing in. Ren took aim, lifted his gun slightly higher, and—"Hit!" The system lit up.

Fujisawa barked through the comms: "Nice! Two outta three—one more and we win!" He grabbed his backup infrared pistol and aimed toward Column Two—the one Ren had just left—then advanced cautiously.

Sato called it in: "Captain, they’re not fully eliminated."

Hoshino nodded quietly. "Understood. Final target—probably Fujisawa. Or Ren... They’re impressive."

He quickly vaulted to the opposite side of the arena, raising his rifle and taking a shot at Fujisawa. But the man was no novice—his reaction was pure combat instinct. With precise movement, he dodged and countered using a mix of CQC techniques picked up during his time as a PMC—a blend of evasion and baiting.

In the silent, empty shell of a 15-story building, only the faint hum of the infrared system and heavy breathing echoed between the pillars.

Fujisawa stood firm, his infrared pistol held at the ready. Hoshino stepped back slightly, his eyes locked on target, his face calm and focused.

"Let’s settle this one-on-one," Fujisawa called out, voice steady and in full control. The air between them crackled—while Ren and Kiriya stood by, ready to back him up.

Hoshino smirked. "Wow. Didn’t think I’d be baited into a duel in this kind of game." He stepped forward slowly, relaxed and steady.

Captain Hoshino moved in from the eastern flank, eyes narrowing as he spotted subtle movement. Keeping his body low, he used the support pillars for cover.

They emerged from their hiding spots, ten meters apart—face-to-face. No crowd, only the soft ticking of the simulation timer alarm filled the air.

Fujisawa struck first. He dipped low, shifted left, and fired a clean shot toward Hoshino’s chest. The bullet narrowly missed—Hoshino pivoted fast and fired back at Fujisawa’s legs. A sensor blinked—almost.

They clashed in a tight, brutal space—like two feral cats guarding territory. Hoshino tried to bait Fujisawa into breaking cover with rapid bursts, but Fujisawa remained calm, crouched low, and fired back with surgical accuracy.

The duel played out in suffocating silence. Each move was a tactical exchange—fast, clean, and calculated like a choreographed pro fight.

As Hoshino lunged forward aggressively, Fujisawa reached for the backup pistol hidden at his waist. He tossed his main weapon like a decoy, and in one swift, practiced motion—like something from real battlefield training—he aimed and fired.

Hoshino’s arm sensor blinked red.

Hit.

But before Fujisawa could even crack a grin, Hoshino reflexively pulled the trigger—

Fujisawa’s chest sensor lit up and beeped. Hit registered.

The two men stood frozen, panting, eyes locked. They knew—even if it was just a simulation match—the intensity, focus, and weight behind every move felt exactly like the real thing.

From a lower floor, Ren and Kiriya—who had been watching from a safe distance—rushed up the stairs. They found the two men standing there... shaking hands.

"A draw, huh?" Fujisawa muttered.

"Draw. But a damn good fight," Hoshino replied.

Ren gave a small grin and shook his head. "You two are way too serious for a game."

Fujisawa let out a tired laugh. "I just wanted a free dinner."

Kiriya laughed too. "Man, what a crazy day."

That fight became the most talked-about moment of the tournament.

---

All the participants heard it—echoing through the arena’s speaker system: the heroic standoff above. Spotlights flared as the announcer’s voice rang out, "Team number 17—Ren, Kiriya, and... Fujisawa—wins by full victory!"

Applause thundered across the central floor. Even the special forces unit entered the field, but with smiles and respectful nods—they had clearly enjoyed the challenge from the underdogs.

Captain Hoshino approached, offering a formal military salute. "Impressive. You actually held your own against our special unit. I respect that."

Ren lifted his helmet, his breath still heavy, but a wide smile spread across his face. Sweat trickled down his temple, but the fire in his eyes spoke of nothing but pride. "Thank you... really, I learned a lot from you guys today."

Hoshino raised an eyebrow, then grinned wide. "Who would’ve thought... civilians like you could keep up with us. And not just one of us—you took on all three."

Fujisawa chuckled from where he leaned against the wall, patting the chest pocket of his floral shirt. "It’s no big deal. But yeah... I’ll admit it—I had fun too."

"Oh really?" Hoshino laughed, removing his neck guard. "Well then, I guess this is our loss. You earned it. Go on—claim your prize... and thanks for playing fair."

Ren nodded firmly. "It was a pleasure, truly."

Kiriya clapped Ren on the shoulder from behind. "I think this time, we were actually cool."

"And hungry," Fujisawa added, rubbing his stomach.

They all laughed—and that laughter echoed through the hollow building like the truest kind of victory.

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