Chapter 96
Chapter 96
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: Frontline (14)
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‘Family…? Interview…?’
“Frontline? You okay?”
In an instant, her mind drifted away, and her breathing grew ragged.
Family interview? There was no mention of that.
Someone caught her staggering body. Tommy? Risen? She didn’t know. Probably just whoever was nearby.
Frontline quickly patted herself down.
Eyepatch, earplugs—anything to get her out of this situation.
Unfortunately, nothing.
“Man, when did our parents do an interview.”
“...Ugh. Hope they don’t say anything weird.”
Unlike her dizziness, the other players’ eyes sparkled with excitement.
There were plenty in their mid-twenties, but most were around twenty, and the youngest was even underage at eighteen. This was the stage they shared.
At an age where they still relied on—or yearned for—their parents, these kids felt a mix of embarrassment and shame, gratitude and positivity at the thought of Mom and Dad showing up.
‘No way. If this keeps up, I might actually collapse.’
Her breathing hit its limit, and her vision blurred.
Wouldn’t it be better to just bolt and spare herself the humiliation of passing out here?
As that thought crossed her mind, a single screen appeared on the massive display in front of Frontline.
“...Huh?”
Through her hazy vision and the nausea churning in her gut, a familiar scene flickered into view.
Highwatch’s iconic character Irene strutted down a hospital corridor, swaying her signature alluring hips.
“Whoa. The graphics look different this time. Did Hitwave invest a ton?”
“Yeah. The texture on that background’s on another level.”
“Definitely better than before.”
It was rendered in 3D, which could fool the eye, but the building’s layout, the signs’ positions, even the uniforms on the passing virtual nurses—they were all familiar to Frontline.
‘...Seol-i’s hospital?’
A coincidence?
Frontline frowned at the structure that matched the hospital too perfectly.
From Irene’s exact position, if you went straight ahead and turned right at the dead end, that was Seol-i’s room.
And Irene moved precisely as Frontline imagined.
Toward Legend’s room.
The door swung wide open, revealing the interior of a room all too familiar to Frontline.
She could chalk it up to coincidence up to this point, but the details inside made her eyes widen again.
‘It’s really Seol-i’s room.’
TV, bed, bathroom... even the sofa’s position.
Everything was exactly as she remembered.
Except for one thing.
The bed was empty. No one lay there.
Frontline’s breath caught.
...Coincidence? Or did it mean something?
Or had Seol-i... passed away? Her mind raced from worst-case to best-case scenarios.
At least her trembling hands steadied.
Frontline stared at the screen, eyes wide, utterly transfixed.
A window by the bedside stood open to a blue sky. A warm, cool breeze drifted in, tickling Irene’s hair.
Irene leaped out the window in her signature skill animation, dissolving into light.
Something good?
What? Frontline’s heart pounded wildly.
For the first time in years, the word hope etched itself onto her heart.
Irene flicked off the camera for a moment, then flicked it back on less than a second later.
The airport was the same... but completely different.
A concept where she’d arrived at a European airport in under a second?
Irene tapped the camera lens.
Germany hosted the parents of two players.
Landrox’s tank Duke, and Max, the tank from the rival Titans.
Max and Duke, old friends from the same school with thick bonds—and naturally, their parents got along too. Classic friendly rivalry.
The crowd roared, and the venue’s heat began to rise.
“Dad, seriously. I’ve got this.”
Duke chuckled.
After that, Irene jetted around various countries for more interviews.
One standout detail: every transition was fully 3D-rendered. The effort and manpower poured in was obvious.
Some parents delivered heartwarming, textbook encouragement.
Others brought laughs and humor to the arena.
‘...Really?’
Regardless, Frontline kept her hand over her heart, eyes glued to the screen.
There had to be meaning in all this.
Her instincts screamed it.
After Switzerland for Tommy’s parents and the UK for most of the players, Irene stood once more at a British international airport.
Irene stretched.
“Finally our turn, Frontline senior.”
“...Yeah.”
“Didn’t expect you to answer.”
Blink.
She closed and opened her eyes, and familiar Incheon Airport filled the screen.
That’s why they could round everyone up in one spot for interviews!
With some educational-comic-level dialogue, Irene beamed her way to Hitwave HQ.
With those loaded words, Irene opened the door.
“Oh! My parents!”
“Ahaha! Dad’s still mad about it.”
Risen clutched his stomach, laughing at his father’s half-supportive, half-resentful words.
Frontline turned her head, mumbling incoherently.
“...You fought with your parents and still came to Europe?”
“Huh? First time you’ve asked something like that, Frontline senior. Yeah, they flipped when I said I wanted to be a pro gamer. Got beat for like half a year straight, but I couldn’t give up the dream, so I scraped part-time cash and came anyway.”
“And... you can laugh about it? Seeing your dad?”
“Well... yeah... I got beat half to death sometimes, and stuff happened, but...”
Risen smiled.
“They’re family. It’ll work out somehow.”
“...Family.”
Unable to watch anymore, Frontline turned away.
It was so simple—made her agonizing over it feel foolish.
“Mom?! For real?! You said you weren’t coming!”
“Mooom...!”
After cheers for the other two Titans players, it was finally Frontline’s turn.
WAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!
The roar shook the stands.
Frontline shuddered slightly.
Even accounting for home-field advantage, it was a testament to her fame and popularity.
Wait.
She wasn’t ready yet.
Despite her panic, her eyes refused to look away, locked on the screen.
After a brief silence, a middle-aged man cautiously stepped into frame.
The venue buzzed as people recognized him.
Last Ark wasn’t a global smash, but it had a solid domestic fanbase. The appearance of its CEO—one of Korea’s big three RPGs—electrified the crowd like never before.
Fans obsessed with Frontline lit up at this glimpse into her shrouded family life, which had been a total mystery.
But for Frontline, the moment felt eerily quiet.
Her heartbeat drowned out everything else.
She gazed at her father’s face, unseen for years.
...Time grew harsher with age. He looked much older.
Ugh.
She shouldn’t, but tears welled up.
With those brief words, her father vanished from the screen.
“Whoa?! She’s crying?”
“Hey, don’t mess with someone crying. Just let her.”
“But... Frontline showing emotion like this? First time ever, right?”
“Dunno. I’m shocked too.”
Frontline wiped her tears and steadied her breath.
Her foggy head felt a bit clearer now.
Good.
Win or lose, she’d go home, apologize, beg forgiveness, and reconcile.
‘Of course, I’m winning no matter what.’
Reconciling after a loss would be twice as embarrassing.
Clenching her fist with renewed resolve for victory.
Irene struck her signature pose onscreen, slapping an eyeball right onto the camera.
Huh?
Everyone froze.
Didn’t they cover all ten families?
Some special guest?
All eyes—from the ten players, coaches, casters, live audience, and viewers at home—locked on the screen.
"Huh...?"
Thud.
Frontline’s heart dropped.