Highs and Lows Collide
The collaboration match reached its fourth day. The scoreboard showed a tense back-and-forth between RV and DFL, but the real story unfolded in the fourth set.
XOXX
1
OXOO
3
V-Killer was known for its massive deviation between highs and lows, making it nearly impossible to predict. What was fascinating was that despite possessing both strong offense and solid defense, its performance swings were still extreme. White Fox, on the other hand, was a robot equipped with both horizontal and vertical spinning weapons. At first it had looked incredibly unique, but then an even stranger machine showed up.
“Three, two, one! Match—begin!”
“People say V-Killer is weak against robots like that one, right?”
It probably came from its performance in the amateur national tournament. It had lost twice to a similar-looking machine called Scary and dropped out early.
“White Fox is pushing from the rear first.”
Like a home-run hitter taking a full swing, V-Killer slammed its blade into the side of White Fox. The side panel immediately began crumpling like a crushed box.
“Frontal engagement is disadvantageous, so it’s striking the side! Excellent tactics, V-Killer!”
“White Fox counterattacks! But it gets flipped instead!”
White Fox’s horizontal spinning disc was mounted completely flat. While that gave it high stability, it also raised the point of impact, putting it at a disadvantage against sloped armor.
“It looks pretty funny now that it’s upside down.”
“The fox-ear wheels are what drive it, so its ground clearance is quite high!”
The moment White Fox flipped, V-Killer shredded one of the wheel-equipped fox ears. It looked like an assassin stabbing the target’s ankle and vanishing into the night.
“Now I see—when it’s flipped like that, it lines up perfectly with V-Killer’s hitting zone!”
“It wasn’t supposed to line up that cleanly!”
No matter how quickly V-Killer’s blade accelerated, it still needed a little time. It had to spin for a moment to build up speed.
“Can White Fox do anything before the blade finishes accelerating?”
“It’s already fully spun up! The last wheel is gone too!!!”
V-Killer tore off the remaining fox ear and wheel.
“White Fox can’t move anymore! The KO count begins automatically!”
“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! White Fox KO! V-Killer wins!”
Once an assassin stabs both ankles, the target can never run again.
In just twenty-five seconds, V-Killer had unleashed its peak performance—the same level that once earned it second place in the world. It deflected attacks with its defense and struck weaknesses with its offense. With that simple formula, it secured a clean victory.
“Match over! Three to one! Loss, win, win, win! Diafle Monarch records another perfect week!”
“ShiaLive must be thrilled.”
It was a flawless win befitting the sole leader. This was the same pattern RVGL had shown in the playoffs—Seong Tan-ho taking only the first set before suffering a 1:4 defeat. That pattern had now appeared in the regular season as well.
5EX Robotics had claimed their first win of the season against IDS. Of course, they remained in sole last place, still behind eleventh-place LJ on point differential. Still, becoming the sole last-place team with a fighting chance at tiebreakers was… something of a relief? For IDS, it was an enormous humiliation. Handing the bottom team their first victory was humiliating for anyone. And although it was close, IDS was still a strong playoff-contending squad.
“Four straight wins in this uniform? ShiaLive’s going to be over the moon.”
“They’ll probably want to do a second collab at this rate. We’re doing this well.”
The record achieved while wearing the SHiaLive collab uniform was truly perfect.
Ranking change: 2nd → 1st
Match record: 4 matches, 4 wins, 0 losses — 100% win rate
Set record: 14 sets, 12 wins, 2 losses — 85.7% win rate
(Yeah… the terrible performance against Samryeong must have been a temporary low point.)
Diafle Monarch had cleanly washed away the low they’d shown yesterday against Samryeong. Even Captain Kang Cheong-hyeon could breathe easier now that the fear of continued decline had faded.
The second week of matches had concluded. How did the standings look?
The standings looked almost like a decalcomania print. The top six and bottom six teams had exactly opposite win-loss records: 7-1, 7-1, 5-3, 5-3, 4-4, 4-4 versus 4-4, 4-4, 4-4, 3-5, 3-5, 1-7, 1-7. The two-emperor, nine-mid-tier, two-weakest structure remained intact. The only change was that the gaps within the nine mid-tier teams had widened slightly.
Even though it was still early in the season, there had been quite a lot of movement. Four teams had climbed or dropped two spots in a single day. Some teams had lost but still moved differently in the standings—SYV and SSR, for example.
To celebrate their undefeated second week, the team headquarters treated everyone to a special meal: padak, the famous fried chicken with green onions from the Jochiwon market.
“Whoa, chicken!”
“Four straight wins in week two! Let’s keep fighting in week three, everyone!”
(Cheong-hyeon unnie’s tone is unusually cheerful today…)
Kang Cheong-hyeon usually spoke in the gentle, sisterly tone of a caring older cousin. Today, however, her voice sparkled with the lively energy of a seventeen-year-old girl. Apparently reaching four straight wins and claiming sole first place had made her genuinely happy.
“The padak is delicious! Why did they choose padak specifically?”
“It’s because they were worried about Eunha. They went with chicken dishes since she’s Indian.”
Even though she held New Zealand citizenship, her Indian heritage had apparently been a concern. The great thing about chicken dishes was that almost no religion prohibited them.
After enjoying dessert drinks, the players headed to a café to work on robot designs. Since eleven people couldn’t comfortably fit in one café, they split into three groups.
Group 1 — Cheong-hyeon, Naru, Cheong-bi, Jae-hyeon
Group 2 — Sau, Seong-gyeom, Tae-sim, Na-seong
Group 3 — Han-su, Eunha, Ju-ho
Kang Cheong-hyeon, the most senior member of her group, offered to order drinks for everyone.
“What do you all want to drink? Should we just pick one thing for the whole group?”
“Coffee feels a bit heavy since it’s after dinner. How about yogurt?”
“What kind?”
“Plain is safest.”
Since it was evening, coffee might keep them up, so they settled on plain yogurt for the whole table.
While Moon Naru was running design software on her laptop, someone approached her.
“Hey, student. Ever thought about trying to become an idol?”
“Huh? An idol?”
“Here, this should explain it.”
The person showed Naru an employee ID from HunnieCurm.
“I’ll just give you the SNS account for now. Contact us later!”
After a quick search, it was clear this wasn’t a scam.
“Naru, you really are pretty. Sis is kind of jealous.”
(So this is what happens when you become a beautiful girl.)
On August 15, 2023—Liberation Day—Moon Naru had turned into a wildcat-like beautiful girl due to a rare side effect of the flu vaccine. Thanks to that, the former male high school student had become a professional battle robot pilot with idol-level looks.
“Cheong-bi, I heard you got an idol casting offer too. But you didn’t realize what it was at the time, right?”
“Back then I only knew about battle robots~! Even now it’s not that different.”
Cheong-bi had once confused AHS Entertainment with AHSCIS Robotics/AHS.
“Hey everyone, since we swept week two, how about we all go use the headquarters bathhouse together?”
“S-sure, why not.”
“Let’s all get nice and refreshed~!”
“Naru, why is your face so red?”
“Naru, we’re all girls here. What’s there to be embarrassed about?”
“Eunha, um… it’s just that…”
“There’s a secret only Naru and I know about.”
(What the… is Naru a lesbian…?)
This time, Moon Naru had seen the “that appearance” of every female teammate on the squad. Since her mind was still that of a boy, it must have stirred up feelings she simply couldn’t put into words.