A Hundred Percent Win Rate
...How many hours has it been?
No, let's be precise.
Exactly how many times have I failed to win?
I'm pretty sure I started the stream at the somewhat early hour of 11:00 AM, right before noon.
I had confidently set the stream title to "Breaking my losing streak today," planning to show the gathering viewers nothing but my glorious victories.
How... did it end up like this?
11:00 AM, when the sun was still high in the sky...
Why is the tiny clock in the bottom right corner of my monitor pointing to 7:00 PM, and where did the bright, blazing sun disappear to?
...Those bastards.
Is my suffering really that entertaining to you?
Leaving the chat window behind, I quietly queued up for another game.
Me, Diamond IV? A hardstuck Yeti?
This is fucking ridiculous.
I am winning this game no matter what.
I will win, period.
...Not a single one of these usernames looks sane.
Quietly, when my turn to pick arrived, I locked in a character I had never shown on stream before.
Do you know of a character who can hop walls, stun, airborne, root, has an ultimate that grants invincibility, and can infinitely scale their attack damage?
Just hearing that description would make anyone curse and ask what kind of character has such a broken, balance-destroying kit.
But what if that character is a dead, forgotten pick that absolutely nobody plays?
Sounds impossible, right?
I thought so too.
But in Legend of Fantasy, such a character actually existed.
The developers probably realized they messed up while making her, but out of some stubborn pride, they kept her broken skill set exactly the same while nerfing her base stats into the absolute ground.
Because of that, this character—
Chloe, was now a dead pick with pick rates so low that she wasn't even touched in Demigod tier and above... Her actual performance metrics were practically non-existent.
Other female characters had at least a few players besides me, but I had genuinely never seen anyone else play Chloe.
The extreme difficulty was obviously one reason,
but her abysmal base stats accounted for about eighty percent of why people avoided her.
It's like how no matter how flashy your techniques are, if your fundamentals are lacking, you'll eventually hit a wall.
Her health and defense were naturally at the very bottom of the roster, and because of her infinite attack damage scaling mechanic, her base attack damage as a ranged dealer was lower than that of most support characters.
Even the most veteran pros of this game shook their heads, declaring that Chloe was not meant for human hands.
And I had just picked the very character those pros abandoned.
There was exactly one time.
Exactly once, Chloe's statistics had registered in the highest tier.
The number of games was exactly 37.
It was pathetic that a mere 37 games could form a statistical sample due to the lack of players, but what was even stranger was the win rate recorded back then.
37 wins, 0 losses.
Average KDA: 12.3.
...Not a single defeat, with an absurdly high number of kills and an impossibly low number of deaths.
Three years after Chloe's release, the first time her stats were recorded in the high-elo bracket was also the last—a bizarre, logic-defying 100% win rate.
And now, I had locked in that very anomaly.
Naturally, the chat was thrown into confusion.
Wondering if the person on the verge of a 20-game losing streak had finally lost their mind.
But you see...
...Yeah, that was me.
The secret weapon I pull out only when I absolutely must win.
My ultimate trump card.
"I'm going to focus this game."
The game started off on the wrong foot.
And it was entirely my fault.
Perhaps it was because I hadn't played her in a while.
While I was still trying to get a feel for her skills again, a team fight broke out.
Since it was an unavoidable fight, I was forced to join before I could fully warm up.
It was a winnable fight. I could say that with absolute certainty. If I had been playing Chloe consistently, I could have won that fight even if I were completely alone.
But we lost.
There was no need to look for excuses in others; I just played like absolute trash.
I missed every single skill shot, and when I should have been auto-attacking, I made some meaningless backward movement. In the end, my team lacked the damage to win, and we got wiped.
...Even if people jokingly call Diamond a low tier, the players here had still sunk a significant amount of time into the game. They weren't bad enough to waste the advantage they gained from that fight.
Starting from that clash, the game rapidly spiraled out of our favor.
"Sigh..."
A heavy sigh escaped my lips.
This was supposed to be my comfort pick.
Now that my hands were finally warmed up and I could play at my real level,
there was no path to a comeback in sight.
...In the end, my 100% win rate was going to shatter just like this.
Just as I was about to give up on everything and humbly accept the dread of defeat—
A victory cry rang out.
The turnaround started in the top lane.
The enemy team was under pressure to end the game.
And they were probably confident they could.
That very confidence gave us our chance.
A split second.
A truly brief window of opportunity.
Without missing the moment the enemy overextended, my team landed crowd control on their fed carry and melted them in an instant.
It was more than enough to turn the tide.
No, perhaps the game had already been flipped by this single kill.
Because the shutdown gold went to none other than me.
Because I, now fully adjusted to the controls, had secured the kill on a character capable of solo-carrying.
This game.
I had to take responsibility and win. That was the whole reason I picked Chloe.
Before long, the game dragged into the ultra-late game.
Starting with that shutdown, both teams fiercely traded kills and deaths, somehow dragging the match out to the 40-minute mark.
At this point, matchups, item differences, and levels were nothing but numbers.
A single moment of focus would decide the match.
And the ones whose focus slipped—
—were not us, who remained tense until the very end,
but the enemy team, who were anxious to end the game quickly.
It was a chaotic battle where no one could predict the outcome.
Our support got caught out while trying to secure vision, putting us at a massive disadvantage. The person who was supposed to peel for me was gone.
But there was no time to run or regroup.
The enemy team was packed with assassins.
Since their mobility was far superior to ours, we couldn't even buy a single turn.
That was why we had to fight.
We had to stake everything on this single clash.
In a tight, unfavorable battle,
even though we seemed to be holding our ground, we gradually began to get pushed back.
In the ultra-late game, even the absence of a low-impact support was bound to be felt.
Our team's health bars slowly dwindled. Eventually, our frontline tank melted, followed by our mage who was mid-cast.
Finally, our bruiser, who narrowly failed to finish off an enemy, collapsed,
leaving me as the sole survivor.
...Even in such a desperate situation, I kept moving my character.
How could I let it end here after coming this far?
How could I let my 100% win rate break?
I couldn't let my favorite character's win rate shatter in a place like this, in a tier like Diamond IV that I usually looked down on.
With that thought, I controlled my character as if we were one body.
The enemies were assassins.
...But at the same time, they were low-health assassins with zero sustained combat capability.
No matter how bad Chloe was, and even if a ranged dealer could never normally beat an assassin, in this specific situation...
I held the upper hand.
The enemy team knew this too, focusing all their skills on me, but—
...There's a reason I have a 100% win rate on this character.
Once assassins blow their cooldowns, their turn is over.
It was a structural flaw of the assassin class—high burst, but terrible sustained damage.
And I exploited that weakness. Just as all their skills flew toward me,
I activated the ultimate I had been saving.
Thus, the one left standing at the end
was not the enemy team who had the numbers, but my character, dancing beautifully across the battlefield.
I had killed every single remaining enemy by myself.
In the ultra-late game, the entire enemy team was dead,
and their death timers were a full minute long.
...It was enough.
More than enough time to end the game.
As if possessed, I marched toward the enemy base.
And finally, I shattered the enemy team's heart, opening the final path to end the game.
Wow...
Just how many losses did I stack up for my LP gain to be this trash?
I finally broke the losing streak, but...
Rather than joy, I felt nothing but a hollow sense of relief that it was finally over.
Celebratory donations poured in just because I broke my losing streak. I lingered in the afterglow for a bit longer, listening to the donation alerts.
My tier? Of course I had to climb. I had my pride; I couldn't end the season in Diamond.
But...
"I'm leaving now..."
I really want to go...
I just want to sleep...