I’m the Mic Mouse in Delta Force

(Feel free to read Chapter 7 first; there’s a twist.) My name is Mai Xiaowen, codename Hound. In the Hot Zone of Delta Force, my teammates prefer to call me Little Mouse Mai.

It’s not because I’m a coward. It’s because I’ve turned knife-running into my signature specialty. From the start, I take only basic armor, a tactical knife, and two first-aid kits, keeping my gear value as low as possible. With just a signal decryptor, a flash drone, and a data knife, I dive into classified maps as a “battlefield scavenger.” Other players enter to fight and wipe squads. I go in to avoid fights, scavenge high-value loot, and earn the most HAF coins for the lowest cost. Once I’ve built up enough assets, I gear up and charge in with my teammates, taking out all the frustration from my knife-running days on the enemy.

Right now, I’m crouched in a gap between shipping containers at Zero Dam, my heart pounding and my headset full of my own breathing, along with the muffled booms of a Red Wolf player’s triple-shot grenade launcher in the distance.

Anyone who’s never been a little mouse will never understand the misery of knife-running.

Before entering the map, I checked my gear value three times: level-two armor, a level-one helmet, and a basic backpack. I didn’t even bring a decent pistol, just in case the cost went over budget. If I got killed, I’d lose everything. I spawned in a remote corner of the camp. While everyone else rushed the Administration Building and the safes, I could only creep along the walls, walking softly across the concrete. I relied on Hound’s passive sound suppression to keep my footsteps as quiet as possible, and didn’t dare slide around carelessly. A knife-runner’s stamina is precious; every drop has to be saved for escaping.