Gald Cup
Having my name show up in a Gald Cup thread was a pretty surreal experience.
Surreal enough to stir even me — someone who had deliberately avoided every post tagged "Sword Saint."
If Sky Slash is allowed, a hundred or a thousand, doesn't matter — they all get cut in half, so we're sealing it from the start.
1. Sword Saint Specs(not public, so I made these up)
180cm / 90kg, solidly built man
Mana Aptitude: S+
(Photo of the Sword Saint drawing steel and carving a dragon in half)
Swordsmanship strong enough to one-shot an A-rank monster dragon
Unlimited sword durability
No long-range techniques allowed
2. Ranked Diamond Swordsmen
Same deal — 180cm / 90kg solid men
Mana Aptitude: C
No long-range techniques
They're Diamonds, so they know the basics of swordsmanship
Under these conditions, fighting in Nukamp — who do you think wins?
"Hmm..."
To ordinary people, the Sword Saint versus a hundred Diamonds looked like a genuine golden balance — the opinions refused to tip either way.
Well... maybe that was only natural. A hundred people carried real weight. Hell, even I remembered voting for the humans in that old gorilla-versus-a-hundred-people debate in my past life.
But that was only ever the civilian perspective.
Even with this body of mine — a drug-soaked wreck worse off than a normal civilian — I could handle a hundred Diamonds just fine. Hand me the frame of a sturdy adult man at 180 centimeters and 90 kilos, and I wasn't joking when I said I'd clean them up inside five minutes.
All I got back was playful mockery from the users. I knew it was karma for dumping bait posts day in and day out... but I still couldn't help feeling a little disappointed.
"Ugh, I really could dodge them all, though..."
It wasn't that I took pride in the name Sword Saint.
I knew perfectly well that title was far too much for someone like me — someone who had lost everyone she loved, who couldn't even find a reason to live, and who just lurked in a gallery from a corner of her room.
But I hated having my swordsmanship dismissed.
Because the people I loved had all given their lives for my blade.
That was... that was an insult to my sister, who had burned her life away to carve a path open for my sword alone, and a discourtesy to every comrade who had stood with me.
Had that feeling of mine somehow gotten through?
"Oh...?"
In one of the comments, I found a way to settle this ridiculous pile-on once and for all.
I knew full well how much of a dumpster fire this gallery was. A minor board with just a hint of clique energy, it had long since stagnated into a swamp.
Which meant talking wouldn't work. The only answer was to show them myself — prove it, and make them accept it.
And for that, I needed to throw out some bait first.
I personally watched the Sword Saint fight in Siberia.
Even if the Dias feel zero fear and the Sword Saint has a stamina limit, they'd still get deleted for real.
Everyone has a brilliant plan — right up until they get cut down...
About ten minutes after I'd scattered the bait, my casually written post had already climbed into the concept posts, and a brand-new Gald Cup was opening in the comments.
I liked where this was going. Once a Gald Cup cooked this far, people would start wanting to see it fought out for real.
I hit refresh and an entire page was packed solid with bait. Proof that the argument was burning beautifully.
So I threw my hat into the ring without hesitation.
http://pazizik...
In 20 minutes I'm ending the Sword Saint VS Dias bait myself
If I lose, free burger gift cards for everyone who shows up
But if I win, I pick one person from Team Dia and make them a Par-ttak?
In a room that was half landfill, I swept a hand across the glass of the only thing still glowing — the VR capsule. Clothes that had been tossed over it slid off, revealing the sleek curves of a cutting-edge machine.
"Heh. Never thought I'd actually use this thing..."
For all it looked, this unit ran into the hundreds of millions of won. I'd bought it for psychiatric treatment, used it once, and then shoved it into a corner.
That had been the obvious move. It was already too late for treatment. To keep going to war with a broken mind, the only option had been to break myself further.
I'd thought it would never see light again... but I guess you never know with people. I powered on the VR unit, leaned against the desk, and started typing on the keyboard.
A bomb had dropped on the peaceful gallery.
It was because of a post that had gone up in the notice slot at the very top of the board — a slot that should have been empty — while everyone went on snapping at each other like always.
The badge-holder who usually just spectated Gald Cups had declared they were joining the fight, and a lot of people took notice.
"What's gotten into them?"
Anon 219.55, who had entrusted their sense of self to a pair of numbers, was one of them. The fact that Ju-ttak had entered a Gald Cup they'd posted without thinking was just plain fascinating.
A tiny voice wondered whether parking a personal stream link in the gallery notice was really okay... but after reading the rest of the post, that thought vanished completely. Nobody turned down free burgers.
So 219.55 joined the stream without a second thought.
A space of collective monologue where everyone just said whatever they wanted. A state of anarchy with no one to rein it in. Drunk on the familiar gallery atmosphere, 219.55's hands hit the keyboard.
But the response that came back was unexpected.
"Ah, yeah, I'm a girl. No slander, please."
The first thing that hit was how pretty her voice was. There was a fragile, worn-out quality to it that tugged at every protective instinct in a person's chest.
Which was why 219.55 failed to properly process the reality in front of them. The reality that the shitposting mod badge who'd been dumping bait images on the gallery was, in fact, a girl — that was a truth they simply couldn't take in all at once.
The chat, sharing roughly the same thoughts, exploded.