PSIA INTERNAL FIELD REPORT - EYES ONLY
TO: The Director, Division of Unconventional Warfare
FROM: Agent K. Takahashi (Field Designation: "Sensei_GG")
DATE: [Redacted]
SUBJECT: Status Report & Tactical Absurdity Assessment: Operation God Mode
OPERATIONAL THEATER: Operative is embedded at the Global Gauntlet Championship in Seoul. Cover as an 18-year-old "rookie pro-gamer" is holding, primarily because I now possess the thousand-yard stare and poor posture of someone who has been staring at a screen for 72 hours straight.
ASSET DEVELOPMENT: A civilian team ("Team Scramble") has been successfully integrated as cover. The team consists of: An enthusiastic but naive entry fragger ("Kid Flash"). A cynical but brilliant strategist ("Static"). A human battering ram whose primary motivation is free food ("Rampage"). A silent prodigy who communicates primarily through quiet judgment ("Zero").
My leadership has been established by delivering mission briefings disguised as philosophical pre-game speeches. They believe me to be a Zen master of tactical chaos. They are not entirely wrong.
THREAT ANALYSIS: The target, Chef Ayame, is confirmed on-site, personally overseeing the "optimization" of the enemy team, the Seoul Soul Crushers. The "God Mode" energy drink is a cover for a far more advanced variant of Cerebralax, administered intravenously for maximum effect. The enemy team moves with inhuman precision and exhibits no emotional response. They are no longer players; they are programmable, biological weapons. Ayame has identified me as a "statistical anomaly" and an "inefficient bug" that needs to be "patched". This is a deeply unsettling development.
NOTABLE EVENTS: Team Scramble secured a victory in our first match. This was achieved not through skill, but through the deployment of "weaponized incompetence". My inability to navigate the game map was interpreted by professional commentators as a "500 IQ meta-breaking" gambit. The Takahashi Paradox is now operational in the digital realm. Operative was assassinated in my hotel room via a poisoned dessert. The attempt was neutralized by flushing the offending mille-feuille down a toilet while delivering a monologue on the "hollow perfection" of my enemy's philosophy for the benefit of her hidden camera.
CONCLUSION: The mission has escalated from intelligence gathering to open warfare. Ayame is not just selling a drug; she is demonstrating a new form of human weaponization on a global stage. Our team is outgunned, outmatched, and our primary strategic advantage appears to be my ability to be so unpredictably terrible at things that I short-circuit the enemy's logic. This is not a sustainable model for victory. Or sanity.