PUBG is not just a game. This is army service, but without food, sleep and sympathy. This is the place where you are killed with a rifle from 300 meters, in a jump, through a bush, smoke and moral protection. And you, in response, approach the enemy at close range, press the cherished clamp button and feel how bullets from your machine gun just flow around the target, like a cadet's water. 👍

You run around the field for 15 minutes, collect clothes, sights, armor, bandages, power engineers. You live, you believe. You listen carefully to the footsteps, crawl down the hill, sneak, almost smell the top. And so, in the very climax, you are filmed by a guy sitting in the grass, which you don't even see.

On the screen. "You were killed by a shot in the head with Kar98k from 226 m." You sit like an idiot with a full backpack and empty hands. The murder cell shows how the dude accidentally pulled the mouse and hit your skull, because "why not".

Close combat?

You're at close range, you have a full body kit. The rival comes out, you start to clamp and everything flies into the sky, into the walls, into some other universes. During this time, the enemy manages to sit down, get up, change the barrel, squeeze the power engineer, and put you in the ground with one shot from a shotgun.

Each rink is like a meeting with a toxic scoop: at first everything is slow, then it hurts sharply.

Every bullet is only in you. Every miss is only from you.

And when you do win... you're not happy anymore. You're just a tired veteran.🫡

Assessment:

10/10 snipers lying in the grass

5/5 cartridges that went nowhere

0/1 chance for close combat

1/1 feeling that you're just a statistic for someone else's highlight