If You Don't Know, You Gotta Take the Hit (4)
Beat Renmom
🎁 Reward:175,000 won
Get Ugly Loss to Renmom
🎁 Reward:85,000 won
The missions restarted. And unlike before, a new achievement condition had popped up.
"What the hell, you bastards. Why's me losing the favorite?"
Ppase wasn't getting flak for sucking or anything. The viewers were just hyped for his defeat. Messing with opponents through ragebait was his main content, after all. And when he got wrecked, his reactions were always chef's kiss.
Plus, the rumor mill was churning that Renmom was a pro trainee. Red rank would've let her dip without verification, but today was the chance to uncover the truth. If Renmom won here, it'd deliver Ppase's meltdown and fuel the pro-trainee hype—a twofer match.
Ppase and the viewers alike waited tensely for the first set to kick off.
Ren, strolling from the opposite end of the top tower stage, halted in front of Ppase's character, Arnold.
"You favorites got one thing wrong? It's not that I'm not serious—Mixer himself acknowledged my skills~."
Final showdown begins.
Amid the barrage of boos, the prep signal blared. The two characters struck their ready poses to decide the ultimate victor.
Ren stretched languidly toward the sky in a sultry pose. Arnold cupped his hands, gathering an energy orb between them to menace his foe.
Clash!
"And, uh?"
Ppase loved drilling opponents with bizarre patterns he'd practiced to perfection. A mischievous genius with overwhelming strategy, tactics, and cheese-char picks. Tuhon at its most playful—that was Ppase.
Now, that Ppase had teamed up with the notoriously broken Arnold. His golden era had arrived.
"Y'all wouldn't get it, but? Ren can never keep up with Arnold's speed? No way she wins this~?!"
Right off the bat, light jab, heavy jab to test the waters. Then dash into the air for an overhead guard, targeting the opponent's noggin before they could retreat far. If they pushed an attack? Counter hit, aerial combo city.
Same-frame clash? Arnold still wins. His elbow drop aerial starter dodges all mid/low attacks.
So go high? Tough luck—Ren's kit is mostly kicks with stubby arms. Her fastest overhead's the cut kick, but she eats a beatdown the instant she whiffs thanks to frame data.
Any real pro trainee wouldn't repeat that bottom-floor blunder. So Renmom's only play: backdash to shift the target from back-of-head to forehead, raise front guard. Or eat the hit. Repeat of the basement beatdown.
Ppase didn't expect much counterplay. Not all pro gamers were equals—some were worse than him. And barring the ever-predictive Mixer, no player handled his novel strats flawlessly in tourneys. Especially not in Tower Tournaments, with back-to-back matches and crashers lurking!
"...Huh?"
But Renmom pulled it off.
"No way?!"
As airborne Arnold raised his arm to smash Ren's skull, she flipped her stance. Deliberately turning her back, shifting her head's hitbox forward.
Evil Mirror. Back-stance, for short.
That tiny tweak made Arnold's elbow graze harmlessly past her nose.
"What?!"
Arnold landed slower than usual mid-air. What greeted him? Ren's extended legs and the tip of her black dress shoe.
Whap!
Arnold rocketed skyward, defenseless.
"No, insane. Guys, did you see that? Wow. Just... wow."
Fighting games turned on split-second reads. Pros sliced seconds into 60 frames, milking every one. Tense brain battles from frame 10 to 20, looping for a full minute. That was pro-league Tuhon.
While eating aerial combo up high, Ppase replayed the moment. An impossible dodge—even a frame off and it'd fail. Pro territory.
Stance switch without hesitation. Renmom had read his strat before climbing the tower.
Bam. Bam! Boom!
Ren's crisp kicks battered Arnold relentlessly. Like a spider dangling from a web, buffeted by wind. Spinning wildly mid-air, he finally hit the ground. HP at about 55%.
Combo damage was nuts. As pros rated her: insane damage, but sacrifices everything for it.
Good—still distance to the wall. Half health gone, but no panic yet. Just set one, right? Finals to best-of-three.
Opponent knew it too—calculated hitbox-perfect dodge. So next, she'd poke mid-range to harass instead of pressuring up close. Knew her short arms and slow speed sucked point-blank.
"Guh?!"
Renmom couldn't not know.
"Urk...?!"
Couldn't not know, yet...
Why this pressure? Jab, one-two. Guard. Throw. Backdash guard into mid poke. Sidestep into jab... no, hooking heel? Low poke?
Ppase's face twisted in shock, like his first Mixer matchup. Hellish multiple choice where nothing predicted right.
Didn't know Ren? Nah. A streamer like Ppase had tried Ren for content—Duke rank challenge. Epic fail, but he knew the moves. The flaws.
That perfect bottom-floor win wasn't pure luck or Arnold cheese. But his Ren knowledge wasn't total. He'd just witnessed a brand-new counter.
His Ren worldview exploded, revealing vast darkness beyond. What lurked there? Ppase didn't know. That unknown froze even his jabs.
"...Nngh."
"Argh, fuck!"
Couldn't just guard forever. One counter, that's all. Arnold had tools left— no sitting like an idiot.
Big move. Big move time.
'Catch the recovery and counter...!'
Meanwhile, low kicks whittled Arnold to ~40% HP. One air launch and game over.
Dinner half-eaten, he prayed for one shot. Eyes wide, tracking Ren's every twitch.
"...!"
Pattern emerged amid pressure. Between mid spinning heel kicks, backdash light jabs.
Momentum got her in habit loop. Classic Tuhon pressure addiction.
Unpredictable timing. Now!
"Go!"
Ppase unleashed a mid side kick—fast startup staple. Perfect timing: hit as she backdash-jabbed. Counter into combo.
Unseen tech from basement. No thinking it out mid-reaction. Maybe Mixer could.
"......?"
Streamers and viewers alike got question marks over their heads. Arnold's extended leg whooshed past Ren's signature idiot bangs.
Split-second: she ducked.
Everyone baffled. Ppase alone recalled the forgotten fact late.
"Ah, fuck! Right!"
Ren's last move: diagonal spin-jump heel drop mid-poke. Two-hitter, but she paused after one. Then moved.
Ppase read backdash. Assumed pattern chain. Fired.
But Ren mains knew her quirk: not manual back-stance input, but skill-into-direction-hold for instant switch.
As Arnold's side kick whiffed, Ren rolled on the ground. Back-stance staple fun move.
Cutie Roll.
"Argh, shit. Damn...!"
Okay. Calm. Cutie Roll's a joke 'cause no follow-ups. Post-roll, still back-stance. Ascension's suicide. Double-roll risky.
Last resort: big overhead arc mid. Slow—jab wins frames easy.
No way she rolls again. No way.
Hopeful, Ppase mashed buttons. No time to think.
"Jab the opening!"
Arnold's arm sliced air. Ren's head? Already low, far off.
"Uh."
Ascension: back-stance exclusive aerial combo starter. Handstand launch evades overheads with tricky hitbox, but whiff sends you airborne. Risky unless you read 'em.
Normies never Ascension with Ren.
"Ah, insane!!"
"No way, boss?! Fuck, why Ascension thereeee!!"
Arnold airborne again. End: crushing back heel into oblivion.
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