That battlefield is like an endless wasteland, with the wind blowing and the smell of rust. In the world of UBG Mobile, the sound of gunfire is like falling stars, illuminating those lonely figures. The 2.8 update put a silent gun, AUG, in the hands of everyone, turning it from a mysterious light in the sky into a real object in front of them. It stands side by side with the M4, like two rivers, intersecting in this wilderness.
Damage, a cold number, 41, like a flame on a winter night, warm and weak. The damage of AUG has been adjusted to the height of M4, they are equal, like two parallel verses, waiting for readers to interpret. But in addition to the damage, there is a storm of recoil. The recoil of AUG, like the breath of the waves, vertically subtracted 20%, and horizontally gently gathered 10%. It is no longer violent, but beats quietly, like the rhythm of the heart, slow and firm. The M4 is like a steady giant, reloading one second faster, time flows at its fingertips, as natural as breathing.
The speed of bullets is another silent competition. AUG bullets are like running wild horses, 900 meters per second, much faster than M4’s 880. The distance of 20 meters is the distance from the stars, the distance of time, and the distance of decision. In that moment, victory or failure is like dust blown away by the wind, silent and irreversible.
This gun is rare, like the rare starlight in the winter night, not everyone can touch it. It is like a dream waiting to be discovered, hidden in the corner of the map, waiting for the soul that desires change. M4 is still the lights of the city, familiar and warm, the road under your feet, and the wind around you.
The skin of the gun is the clothes of dreams and the wings of desire. UC is the bridge to dreams, and Treabar is the quietly flowing river, allowing more people to step on this river bank, pick up the fragments of dreams, and weave new stories.
These two names, AUG and M4, are two breaths on the battlefield, the interweaving of two souls. There is no victory or defeat between them, only the passage of time, and the whispers of you and me in the wind. Choosing a gun is choosing a road, a poem, and a journey that never stops.
The sound of gunfire fades away, the wind remains, and the stars light up every lonely traveler. The wilderness is still waiting, waiting for a new story, waiting for you and me to write together.