Veteran Streamer in a Reversed World

[3 o’clock! Heavy weapon spotted at 3 o’clock!]
[This is my last magazine!]
Loud gunfire and shouting from all directions.
While an intense firefight was taking place with enemies in visible range, I was surprisingly calm.
Keeping my posture low to avoid getting hit by stray bullets, I grabbed ammo from the supply box and passed it to allied AIs, and when allies pulled back to reload, I provided suppressing fire through the window to prevent the enemy from counterattacking.
When I run out of ammo, I take cover, replace the magazine, and immediately move to another position to fire.
If you keep poking your head out and shooting from the same spot, naturally, the enemy can predict your movements.
If you don’t want to die, you need to make your movements more complex.
-Look at that peeking
-Mu
-Bing
-Mu
-Bing
[Alpha – 1,000 won donation]
-Is this the physical ability of a war veteran…
Chat was rapidly scrolling on the broadcast monitor, but there wasn’t even time to check its contents.
Despite many having fallen, the number of enemies was still high, and due to the numerical disadvantage, our forces were gradually being pushed back.
[Malfunction!]
“Ah, who the hell maintained this machine gun? What kind of machine gun keeps jamming?”
-Gasp…
-Wow…
-Brother is angry…
-Emer!!!!gen!!!!cy!!!!
“Damn it…”
At the urgent cry of the machine gunner who was providing suppressing fire against the enemies, I momentarily felt irritated and muttered a small curse.
This is just a war simulation game targeting virtual enemies.
It’s an obvious fact, and I’m aware of it too.
The machine gun bullets getting stuck is clearly part of a scenario set by the developers to give players a sense of urgency.
But even so, I keep getting overly immersed in the scene of chaos and violence unfolding on the monitor.
Conducting a war simulation from the perspective of someone who has experienced the ‘real thing’ is no different from forcibly dragging out buried memories and stirring them up.
Anyway, it felt shitty in many ways.
While rushing to fill the firepower gap left by the machine gun, I heard Natasha’s shout from upstairs.
[Yuri, bad news!]
[What is it?]
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
I muttered quietly while killing an enemy who was hiding behind a building wall with only his head exposed.
Usually, in this situation, bad news likely means enemy reinforcements have arrived.
[3 BMPs approaching from 11 o’clock! With escort troops!]
“Oh, fuck.”
As expected, what Natasha said was exactly what I had anticipated.
Three infantry fighting vehicles and mechanized infantry…
“We’re screwed.”
Right now, we didn’t have anything that could be called anti-tank weapons.
Infantry small arms are virtually useless against armored vehicles.
It might be possible to penetrate if you aim for parts with relatively thin armor, but to do that, you’d have to jump into the middle of the enemy’s fire net.
It’s already overwhelming just dealing with the infantry right in front of us, and now BMPs show up?
In this situation, anyone who stands against the enemy is either a complete idiot or a damn patriot.
“But why aren’t they saying anything about retreating?”
It’s clearly an overwhelmingly disadvantageous situation for us.
From the moment the infantry fighting vehicles appeared, the balance of this fight was as good as completely tilted.
[We must defend the strongpoint! Don’t let them pass!]
[Hold on by any means until allied support arrives!]
Yet these damn squad members, supposed to be veterans, chose to defend the strongpoint, blinded by patriotism or something.
Logically, it would be more ideal to abandon this building that looks like it would collapse with one artillery strike, and slowly move to the rear while limiting the enemy’s movements.
The squad members, who are supposed to have gone through thick and thin according to the setting, couldn’t possibly not know this fact.
“Well, fuck, the patriots have arrived.”
In such a disadvantageous situation, the standard procedure is to make a strategic retreat, regroup, and then push the front line back up.
What can we do against infantry fighting vehicles?
Holding out here will only result in a dog’s death.
It’s just a waste of ammunition and lives for nothing.
[BMP approaching! Watch out for the autocannon!]
Bang-!
“Shit!”
With a loud noise, the squad members standing by the window were shattered.
I lowered my posture to avoid the flesh and bone fragments flying in all directions and hurriedly headed for the back door.
The BMP was clearly firing its 30mm autocannon.
[Aaaaaargh!!!]
[Fuck!! Aaaaah!!]
Bang-!
The machine gunner, who was shouting and spraying bullets next to the assistant gunner who had fallen after being hit by shrapnel, had his upper body cut off by the BMP’s counterattack.
As the biggest threat, the machine gun, was neutralized, enemy infantry started pouring in, and the battle quickly turned into a chaotic melee.
Ratatata-!
[Urgh…]
[Mom!!! Mom!!!]
Flashes and fresh blood sparkle through the dust cloud raised by collapsing concrete structures.
Soldiers who escaped the building and took refuge on the street vaporize into a red mist of blood when hit by the BMP’s 30mm autocannon.
A soldier whose right hand was blown off hooks the rifle’s handle onto his right arm and resists by pulling the trigger with his left hand.
A soldier who ran out of ammo takes out a bayonet, hides behind a pillar, and stabs the blade into the neck of an approaching enemy.
The merciless gunfire of the following enemy troops turns the soldier into a beehive along with the enemy.
Behind them, another soldier who was trying to throw a grenade was exposed to the same fire net, got shot in the neck, and collapsed.
The grenade that fell from her hand rolled to the feet of friendly troops.
A comrade nearby jumps in and covers the grenade with the pin pulled out.
Bang-!
A medic rushes to save the soldier who survived with a shattered body armor plate.
To cover her, I fire indiscriminately at human silhouettes in the dust cloud.
“Aaaaaargh!!!!”
At some point, I was shouting.
“Aaaaaargh!!!!”
Fear.
Confusion.
Anger.
Excitement.
To shake off all of this, I shouted.
“Aaaaaargh!!!!”
The muzzle spews fire, and spent casings fall and bounce on the floor.
Blood splatters, and intestines spill out.
Click-
I heard the sound of a round getting stuck in my rifle.
An enemy was aiming their gun at me right in front of my face.
There was no time to shout “Malfunction!” and remove the stuck casing.
“Die!!!”
I rushed at the enemy suddenly and thrust my rifle like a spear.
Crack-
“Ack…”
The muzzle shattered the enemy’s teeth and pushed deep into their mouth.
Ratatata-!
The enemies, not missing the gap, open fire on me.
I blocked a few bullets using the body of the enemy soldier with the muzzle in their mouth as cover.
“Fuck!”
Fortunately, the enemy soldier who had been firing at me stopped shooting and started replacing their magazine, probably having run out of ammo.
I was lucky.
“Huff… Huff…”
Taking advantage of that brief moment, I roughly pulled the bolt handle to remove the stuck casing.
“Urgh!!! Uuuuh!!!”
The enemy soldier, drooling blood from their mouth while biting on my rifle’s muzzle, seemed to realize their fate and made a last struggle to push away the barrel with their hands.
Bang-!
Without hesitation, I pulled the trigger, driving a bullet into their mouth.
As the enemy’s body with a shattered brainstem collapsed, I pulled the rifle back, removing the blood-covered muzzle from their mouth.
Bang-!
I turned the muzzle and fired at the face of an enemy who had just finished reloading and was pulling the trigger at me.
As the enemy with a shattered face fell, I felt an impact in my abdomen and fell backward.
The enemy’s bullet had hit my body armor.
“Huff… Huff…”
It’s hard to breathe.
But I can’t just lie here like this.
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to get up.
The medic who succeeded in rescuing the wounded soldier comes and supports me.
With her help, I take cover behind a pillar for a moment and check my remaining ammo.
“Damn…”
The last magazine I had put in my chest rig pocket was torn to the point where it was hard to recognize its shape.
It was clear that when I was just hit, the bullet had struck this magazine.
“Haa…”
Now, after firing the 8 rounds left in my rifle, I have to decide whether to fight with a bayonet or run away.
I’d prefer to retreat if possible, but the squad members don’t seem to have any intention of doing so.
But if I face the enemy, I have no bullets.
Bang-!
The ceiling collapsed with a loud noise from the BMP’s autocannon fire.
Through the debris, I thought I saw Natasha’s blood-stained sniper rifle and her hand slightly.
“Hahaha…”
When fear and anger pass, all that’s left is despair.
I planted the last bullet in my magazine into an enemy’s face and then discarded the rifle.
I drew my bayonet and faced the turret of the slowly approaching BMP.
The moment flames shoot out from that black muzzle, I die.
There’s no way to escape.
Thinking this, I tried to slaughter even one more enemy with the last of my strength.
“Everyone be careful!”
“!”
A projectile that came flying from somewhere…
“It’s a hit!”
…before it blew the lid off the BMP.
Boom-!
The BMP’s turret, which had been spewing sparks near the turret bearing, separated from the hull and fell off.
It was an ammunition cook-off.
The enemy infantry standing nearby were covered in sharp steel fragments from the blast and screamed, covered in blood.
“Reinforcements! It’s our anti-tank missile!”
“Tanks have arrived too!”
Leaving behind the enemy forces that had started to retreat hastily, I carefully walked out to the street.
I let out a hollow laugh at the scene unfolding before my eyes.
On the street stained with blood and spent casings, a steel beast was displaying its majestic figure.
Only now.
After so many comrades had died.
Only now.
Overwhelmed by a sense of futility, I suddenly lost strength and collapsed right there.
I was just too exhausted.
Both physically and mentally.
As I watched the reinforcement troops running towards me from afar, my vision slowly faded to black.
In the quiet darkness, a message window appears.
[Mission Complete]
It took considerable time to understand the meaning of the white letters that appeared on the black background.
Mission accomplished.
With that simple phrase, my body, stiff with tension, relaxed, and my blurry focus sharpened on my face reflected on the black background.
I was just sitting in front of a computer.
The cold yet damp sensation of cold sweat flowing on my forehead.
Panting breath as if I had just sprinted 100 meters.
A heartbeat pounding as if it would burst.
I couldn’t possibly check the viewers’ reactions.
More precisely, I wasn’t in the mood to do so.
“…I’m ending the broadcast.”
With trembling hands, I pressed the broadcast end button and collapsed onto the bed.
I didn’t even have time to check if the broadcast had ended properly.
With my face buried in the pillow, I closed my eyes.