"He"s running down B long!", Ace shouted through the mic, warning his only living teammate of the impending danger, it would have been an easy kill, had the player listened to him, but oh well. Ace guided his character through the tunnel, it was only him alive now, but it had been this way for the last 9 rounds, his teammates would run off to do their own thing while ignoring each other"s warnings. Nevertheless, Ace was confident in his win, anyone else in a 4 v 1 scenario would probably be more concerned, but not Ace. He had already taken out the best player in the enemy team, and he simply had to kill every opponent to win. He circled around and came up behind one of his opponents, he shot once, a beautiful shot, and one less enemy player, he reloaded the AWP, it was a one-shot one kill machine, so as soon as he saw it, ace knew he had to use it as his main weapon, the only problem could be the aim and its low fire rate but for Ace, with his inhuman reaction speed and dexterity, it was only a matter of time and training - and not much at that, to begin landing impeccable shots on a regular basis. He kept advancing, as quit as he could, attempting to hear the footsteps of the opposition, he threw a flashbang, waited a full second, and swung around ht corner, his aim scanning the whole area in milliseconds and quickly zoned in on the opponent"s head and shot, one hit, and kill.
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Ricky had been having a bad day, he had just lost almost 10 straight games - obviously his teammate"s fault, none of them near as good as he was, but he could not 5 v 1 all the time.
And now, another a.s.shole had just killed him after flashing him, Ricky grunted, watching the kill-cam and the almost instantaneous shot. He frowned and smashed his keyboard typing in chat, letting out his rage and frustration.
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[You hacker, you can only play with hacks and you are still bad, go **** your mother, you useless human. You probably only use the AWP, you are just a one-trick pony!]
Ace read the chat, his eyes quickly scanning over the message, he grinned, he had already gotten used to the foul language that seemed to be used in every situation, win or lose. He had also found out that being called a hacker when you were not one was the highest form of worship. Furthermore, he was a two-trick pony, he enjoyed playing with the AK-47 when he found himself in the correct team, he had already memorised the full recoil pattern for a full mag, and found it funny how you almost had to aim at the ground for you to aim any accurate shots after a long burst.
Ace, ran down the corner and shot at another user that had poked his head, about to through a smoke grenade, in hopes of halting his path. Only one enemy remaining, Ace was hoping for the 5k [A/N: Killing 5 people in one round, the whole team] but before anything could happen: [BenDovah has left the game].
"Well, that was anticlimatic", Ace closed the game and shut down the PC, stretching his back while he did so, and yet, no pops sounded out,"It still feels so weird", since The Change, and he had started calling it, the pressure on his bones seemed non-existent, his posture forced into perfect position by his own body, it looked like he had a whole spear up his a.s.s. It felt weird, but he noticed that he had lasted even longer in his workouts, and the splits now seemed like a pushup to an Olympian gymnast. He had also been improving in his practice of martial arts, his studies in biology and medicine a great help. He knew where to strike depending on the situation, from a robber with a knife to a spar with one of the members of his gym. He had enjoyed going there, it allowed him to put all he had learned into practice, while also receiving many hits of their own, usually more than he would like to admit, even if they were being reduced bit by bit. The people there were mostly bigger and stronger than him, but there were some exceptions, such as Sebastian, a Venezuelan that looked like he was about to pull a knife on you, he was only as tall as Ace, but everyone in the gym feared his knife hand strikes, in addition to that, regardless of his weight he could rumble with the pros, and took hits like a champ. There was also Allison, she was younger than almost all, at 17 years of age, but she had control of her body that was second only to Ace"s, and her Tae-Kwon-Do techniques showed that she had once kicked a man to the face five times without putting her foot on the ground once, and that was on her "weak" foot. She was refreshing, like a breath of cold air, she seemed amazed with Ace and the control he had over his body at such a young age but had never asked about his training methods or such things: she was far too shy for that. Contrary to what her hobby would indicate, she was actually calm, almost zen-like. "Maybe that"s why she seemed so friendly with me", she seemed to enjoy talking to him instead of the other hyperactive men and women, most ex-military, that only liked to speak about wrestling, racing, and other adrenaline-inducing activities.
They all seemed to think of Ace as their mascot, and contrary to his belief, they all seemed happy to let him join in sparing once they saw his skills. He still lost more than he won, but his experience was piling up, and he was becoming a more and more feared opponent, mostly because no one wanted to hit a young kid with such a "cute" face, as most of the women put it.
His grandmother had also called him, informing him that they would go for the interview with the headteacher of the school and that she would come to pick him up with the appropriate clothing for the event.