Don't Want to Be Ordinary Even Though I'm an Extra Character-Chapter 110: [109] Survival training (3)

The sharp cracks of paint rifle fire echoed through the trees, blending with the sound of soldiers maneuvering across the battlefield.

The second skirmish had begun.

Two squads were now locked in an intense firefight, each side searching for an opening, every soldier struggling to hold their ground under the relentless assault. There was no more time for elaborate plans—only split-second decisions and pure survival instincts.

Amidst the chaos, a man strolled calmly toward his new team—neither rushing nor hesitating. The enemy’s focus was no longer on him.

Hans, already eliminated, was no longer considered a threat.

Someone approached him—a tall man with a sharp expression. He walked with unshakable confidence, weaving between his teammates as if the battlefield around him was nothing more than a stage he had already mastered.

"I didn’t expect you to get caught, Hans," the man remarked, his voice calm yet laced with an unmistakable weight.

He was the captain of the opposing team—one of the few people who could analyze strategies quickly and execute them flawlessly.

Hans smirked, casually dusting off his paint-stained shoulder.

"Yeah, well... it happens."

Then, he turned to glance at Erik, who was still busy coordinating his team. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

"You were right about that kid."

The captain let out a quiet chuckle.

"Told you so."

But there was no time for idle talk.

On the Frontlines

The standoff between the two squads remained tense.

Neither side wanted to retreat, yet their positions were growing increasingly unfavorable.

Erik could see it—his team was running low on ammo.

"Erik! What do we do now?!"

One of his teammates shouted from behind a tree, his rifle completely empty.

Erik gritted his teeth.

This was worse than he had anticipated.

If this were a standard battle, they might have been able to hold their ground with a defensive strategy.

But the problem was—the enemy had someone like him.

Someone who could read the battlefield, make split-second decisions, and—even worse—someone better than him at it.

Time was ticking down, each passing second like a bomb ready to detonate.

Erik could feel his pulse quickening, his mind racing for a solution.

If they stayed put, they’d be sitting ducks.

If they moved recklessly, they’d be picked off one by one.

’If only we had a shield...’

The thought flashed through his mind.

Then—his eyes widened, followed by a grin spreading across his face.

The answer was right in front of him.

With a sharp turn, he looked toward Henes, who was lounging against a tree, looking bored and half-asleep.

The man yawned, stretching lazily as if completely unconcerned by the ongoing battle around him.

As an eliminated player, Henes had no reason to care about the fight anymore.

But then—

A sudden chill ran down his spine.

He could feel something—a gaze so intense it made his hairs stand on end.

Slowly, he turned his head... and found Erik staring at him, his eyes sharp, his lips curled into a suspicious smile.

A smile that did not bring good news.

Henes blinked a few times, trying to convince himself that he was imagining things.

"Erik...?" he asked hesitantly, a bad feeling creeping up his spine.

Erik didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

His expression said everything.

Henes immediately knew—he was in trouble.

###

The sharp cracks of paint rifle fire echoed through the trees, blending with the rhythmic stomping of soldiers maneuvering across the battlefield.

The second skirmish had begun.

Two squads were now locked in a fierce firefight, both sides searching for openings, each individual struggling to endure the relentless assault. There was no time for deep contemplation—only split-second decisions and raw survival instincts.

Meanwhile, standing at a vantage point, the enemy team’s captain observed the unfolding battle with keen eyes.

For the past few minutes, Erik’s squad had been unnervingly silent.

No gunfire. No noticeable movement.

Just an unsettling stillness.

Narrowing his gaze, the captain analyzed the situation.

’Silence like this can only mean two things—they’re either planning something or they’ve completely run out of ammo.’

He had no intention of letting Erik make the first move.

"Prepare to advance!" he ordered, signaling his team with a sharp hand motion. "Stay in formation, and don’t let anyone get caught in a trap!"

But just as they began moving forward...

Someone stepped out from behind cover.

Henes.

The enemy captain raised an eyebrow, as did several of his soldiers.

No one had expected a player who was already eliminated to walk straight into the battlefield.

"Huh?" one of his soldiers muttered in confusion. "Why is someone who’s already out just walking over here?"

The rules of this training exercise were clear.

Once a participant was hit and declared ’dead,’ they were allowed to remain on the field as an observer, but they were strictly prohibited from interfering in the ongoing battle.

Since they were officially out of the game, enemy combatants typically ignored them.

But there was a flaw in this unspoken rule.

Nowhere in the guidelines did it explicitly forbid eliminated players from moving freely around the battlefield.

Normally, those who were out would simply remain where they were or move to the sidelines to spectate.

But if someone like Erik found a loophole in the rules—

Then that loophole could turn into a lethal weapon.

Under the confused stares of their opponents, Erik, Gav, and one other teammate advanced—with Henes walking ahead of them.

Henes’s expression was indescribable.

His face radiated pure defeat and resignation, as if silently asking himself: ’How the hell did I end up in this situation?’

The enemy squad remained frozen, still trying to process what they were witnessing.

Some exchanged glances, unsure whether they were even allowed to shoot someone who was already ’dead.’

But in the distance, Hans, who had been eliminated and was now lounging casually with his squad, immediately understood what was happening.

Instead of reacting with shock or frustration, he burst into laughter.

"HAHAHAHA! Unbelievable!" Hans clutched his stomach, doubling over with laughter. "I knew Erik was a sneaky bastard, but I never expected him to be this shameless!"

The enemy captain, usually composed, now stared at the scene in complete disbelief.

He had never imagined Erik would pull off something like this.

’He’s actually using his own teammate as a human shield...’

But before he could fully react—

BANG!

Erik pulled the trigger without hesitation.

A paint bullet whizzed through the air and struck an enemy soldier on the right.

The man flinched before realizing what had happened—

"What the—?!"

Then came the realization.

"SHIT! OPEN FIRE, NOW!!" the enemy captain roared.

Instantly, every remaining enemy soldier aimed their rifles at Henes.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A hail of paint bullets rained down on him.

Henes, having long accepted his fate, simply stood in place, taking the full impact from all directions.

In mere seconds, his entire body became a canvas of color—blue, red, yellow, green—like he had just walked out of an art festival instead of a battlefield.

But Erik and his team had anticipated this moment.

As soon as the enemy’s focus shifted entirely to Henes, they dashed into new cover, looking for an opening to strike back.

Meanwhile, Henes simply stood there, his soul visibly drained from his body.

"Screw all of you..." he muttered weakly.

###

The Aftermath

The battle was intense, but in the end—

Erik’s squad emerged victorious.

His unorthodox strategy had completely disrupted the enemy’s combat rhythm.

Erik’s tactics weren’t about brute strength or superior numbers—they were about manipulating the rules, exploiting psychology, and seizing even the smallest advantages.

Many wouldn’t admit it, but Erik had proven that warfare wasn’t just about who had better weapons—but about who could break their opponent’s composure first.

The enemy captain stood in stunned silence.

His team had lost.

Slowly, he turned his gaze back to Erik, who stood there completely relaxed, as if this victory was nothing unusual.

There was a mix of admiration and frustration in his expression.

As someone who prided himself on reading the battlefield, he had to acknowledge that Erik was on another level.

Even though it annoyed him, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking—

’That tactic... I could use it next time.’

But just as that thought crossed his mind—

He glanced toward Erik, only to find the man already watching him with a knowing smirk.

Casually, Erik whistled, feigning ignorance as he stared up at the sky.

Immediately, every person around him shot him sharp glares.

Henes, still drenched in paint from head to toe, glared at Erik with personal vendetta in his eyes.

Gav and a few others merely sighed, already accustomed to Erik’s tricks.

Meanwhile, the defeated enemy soldiers shook their heads—some in frustration, others in admiration.

Finally, the enemy captain approached Erik, arms crossed.

"Somehow, I understand why the commander has his eye on you," he muttered, his tone neutral, but his gaze filled with reluctant respect.

Then, without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his team’s flag.

With a single motion, he handed it to Erik.

"I’ll admit... You won this time."

Erik took the flag with a slight smirk.

"Much appreciated."

But his gaze shifted to the distance.

"Now, there’s only one left."

The battlefield had settled, but the tension hadn’t disappeared.

Everyone knew—the final fight would be the toughest yet.

Just then, the enemy captain spoke up again, his expression subtly changing.

"Ah... about the last team," he muttered. "That guy’s going to be a problem."

For the first time, Erik’s relaxed expression faltered.

His eyes narrowed, his mind processing the implications at lightning speed.

There was only one person who could make him react like this.

"Yeah..." Erik sighed heavily, eyes lowering as if searching for a better answer.

"Because that guy is crazier than me."

The room went dead silent.

Everyone had seen how ruthless Erik could be.

But if even he called someone else "crazier than himself"...

Then whatever came next—

Would be pure chaos.