Progressive Overload
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Chicago, Illinois, United States
I’ve seen this man play without a monitor, doesn’t need one. He’s got every map burned into his skull like a supercomputer running 24/7. Your “game sense” is his warm-up lap. Your crosshair placement? Cute. His? Surgical. He doesn’t just flick, he deletes people from the server like they were never meant to spawn.

This isn’t talent, this is weaponized obsession.
Hours of deathmatch in dusty LAN cafés while you were still figuring out how to bind jump to spacebar. Podbots fed him more bodies than your entire matchmaking history. He’s studied demos like holy scripture, while you’re still replaying your one lucky 3K like it’s an ESPN Top 10 clip.

Movement? Yours is a drunk toddler. His is a ghost through the netcode. Strafes razor sharp, peeks so tight they make your reaction time look like dial-up. He owns the angles. You borrow them. Ping is irrelevant, his skill is mighty and surpasses everything.

Utility? You’re still team-flashing in spawn. He’s popping flashes that burn into your retinas, smokes that block the only sightline you had left. Every HE grenade he throws is a signed death certificate.

He’s not some random pubstar. He’s the conductor and you’re the out-of-tune triangle in his orchestra of destruction. When he pushes it’s not risky, it’s inevitable. You’re already dead before you even hear the footsteps.

Spray control? Your AK kicks like a mule on meth. His recoil bends to his will. Every bullet knows exactly where it’s going. When he peeks, time slows, the server holds its breath, and you realize you’re not in a match, you’re in an execution.

You don’t kill him. You don’t beat him. You just vanish.

This isn’t just a player. This is the end of your scoreboard.
This is what happens when discipline meets violence.
Every rep is war. Every set is a statement.
He doesn’t play to get better, he plays to make sure you never even matter.

-noforcemaccel -noforcemspd -noforcemparms -freq 240 -refresh 240 -high -nofbo -nomsaa -full

-tickrate 128 +fps_max 0 -novid -nojoy -high -refresh 240 -fullscreen

bind "shift" "+speed;r_cleardecals";
bind "w" "+forward;r_cleardecals";
bind "a" "+moveleft;r_cleardecals";
bind "d" "+moveright;r_cleardecals";
bind "s" "+back;r_cleardecals";
bind "MOUSE1" "+attack;r_cleardecals";
bind "TAB" "+score;r_cleardecals"
I’ve seen this man play without a monitor, doesn’t need one. He’s got every map burned into his skull like a supercomputer running 24/7. Your “game sense” is his warm-up lap. Your crosshair placement? Cute. His? Surgical. He doesn’t just flick, he deletes people from the server like they were never meant to spawn.

This isn’t talent, this is weaponized obsession.
Hours of deathmatch in dusty LAN cafés while you were still figuring out how to bind jump to spacebar. Podbots fed him more bodies than your entire matchmaking history. He’s studied demos like holy scripture, while you’re still replaying your one lucky 3K like it’s an ESPN Top 10 clip.

Movement? Yours is a drunk toddler. His is a ghost through the netcode. Strafes razor sharp, peeks so tight they make your reaction time look like dial-up. He owns the angles. You borrow them. Ping is irrelevant, his skill is mighty and surpasses everything.

Utility? You’re still team-flashing in spawn. He’s popping flashes that burn into your retinas, smokes that block the only sightline you had left. Every HE grenade he throws is a signed death certificate.

He’s not some random pubstar. He’s the conductor and you’re the out-of-tune triangle in his orchestra of destruction. When he pushes it’s not risky, it’s inevitable. You’re already dead before you even hear the footsteps.

Spray control? Your AK kicks like a mule on meth. His recoil bends to his will. Every bullet knows exactly where it’s going. When he peeks, time slows, the server holds its breath, and you realize you’re not in a match, you’re in an execution.

You don’t kill him. You don’t beat him. You just vanish.

This isn’t just a player. This is the end of your scoreboard.
This is what happens when discipline meets violence.
Every rep is war. Every set is a statement.
He doesn’t play to get better, he plays to make sure you never even matter.

-noforcemaccel -noforcemspd -noforcemparms -freq 240 -refresh 240 -high -nofbo -nomsaa -full

-tickrate 128 +fps_max 0 -novid -nojoy -high -refresh 240 -fullscreen

bind "shift" "+speed;r_cleardecals";
bind "w" "+forward;r_cleardecals";
bind "a" "+moveleft;r_cleardecals";
bind "d" "+moveright;r_cleardecals";
bind "s" "+back;r_cleardecals";
bind "MOUSE1" "+attack;r_cleardecals";
bind "TAB" "+score;r_cleardecals"
Sedang Offline
Etalase Ilustrasi
Scanning reaction time be like
22 Jan @ 6:13pm 
New FFA deathmatch CSDM Server

Connect 162.248.93.3:27015
PRAWN KING OF SPADINA 6 Mar 2023 @ 9:07am 
Tiny, but very cute pp
RAMMI 23 Feb 2023 @ 12:17pm 
I've seen this dude play, he doesn't even need a monitor. He visualizes the map in a detailed rendering, completely in his mind, like a biological wallhack. His godlike perception is crisp with the precision of his cross-hair placement. His mouse-work gracefully swerves across the table, making immaculate twitches as he flicks from head to head. Each bullet that escapes his gun barrel is surgical; making a deadly strike in between his opponent's eyes. His spray control is otherworldly, his cross-hair erratically jolting across the screen as his wrist muscles perfectly manipulating the next bullet's location. Time literally stops as he peeks, sunlight curving as his trigger finger impacts his left mouse button, sending enemies to a digital shadow realm before they even know what happened. He is un-killable. He is undefeatable. This "Man" is the epitome of eternal.
smuggler^ 19 Agu 2019 @ 8:20pm 
hey add im from chicago
$3XY$@M 10 Sep 2017 @ 6:19am 
ARE YOU ALIVE?
V 21 Apr 2017 @ 5:03pm 
My ♥♥♥♥♥