Paradise Regained (2)

Traveler's transfer wasn't merely a crisis for Q Prime alone.

For a long time, the domestic league had been locked in a two-team power structure. With the defection of one of its core pillars, Sigma's uncontested dominance now seemed all but certain.

Camellia's arrival this year had improved things somewhat — but a bright, cloudless future was hardly guaranteed.

When a league has one overwhelmingly strong team, it usually leads to one of two outcomes.

Either the other teams study that powerhouse, adapt, and raise the overall level of the league — or, after a few championship trophies change hands, everyone adapts the wrong way and the whole scene declines together.

If the other teams rose to meet the challenge, there would be nothing more to ask for. But the path Korea had walked until now had mostly been the one of mutual regression.

And so this year, bold moves had been thrown down across the board.

The foreign mercenary deals were already well known, and internally, too, it seemed a number of changes had taken place. A kind of crisis consciousness, perhaps — the fire had truly reached their feet this time.

People can keep thinking this isn't right for a long time, but they rarely move until the danger becomes real. Traveler's transfer had jabbed at an old trauma — the fear of a second Phantom incident — and that was enough. A few teams were scrambling into motion at last.

I didn't know the specifics… but something fundamental in the league's constitution had clearly begun to shift.

As if to prove it, potential began exploding in places no one had expected. The other side of the bracket produced a genuine classic, and even in the finals the underdogs showed formidable resilience — as if the world itself refused to offer a single easy path.

They say the ground hardens after the rain. A rough storm had broken over a league already cracking under pressure. Some were washed away. Others grew denser, tougher. Life returned to earth that had been dry and barren.

And in the midst of all that change, I took a large step of my own.

The glass façade of a skyscraper, tinted pale blue by the clear sky it held. In front of the broad main entrance, a sharp-featured woman held out her hand to me. A bag stuffed with complicated documents hung from one of her shoulders.

The day of the domestic league finals. I went to the game company with the legal team Sigma had assigned me.

Our lawyer offered a good-natured smile.

"Nervous?"

"Yes…"

"Everyone is, their first time in a place like this. Suddenly terrified, like you're being called in to get scolded. That feeling of being summoned to the teacher's office as a kid?"

"Oh — exactly. How did you know?"

"I've seen it plenty of times. But don't worry too much. We're the ones holding the cane this time."

Looking back, it probably wasn't a good-natured smile at all. But the confidence, at least, was unmistakable.

"We've prepared thoroughly for today. Shall we? I'll show you results."

Near the Cradle of Obsession.

Time had passed, and the place had long since become a farming ground for high-level players. There, a greatsword warrior worked his weapon.

The motion of blocking a minotaur's axe was clean enough. He absorbed the force through his back leg, then used his elevated strength stat to shove the vicious weapon aside. For an instant the greatsword drew back, then loaded with mana and power. The heavy blade swept from low to high. A vertical line carved through the air in a red effect, splitting the minotaur clean in two.

An overwhelming single blow — this was why you played greatsword warrior. Sulbbang grinned.

Quite a long time had already gone by. The field cleared as the corpses vanished, but the number of minotaurs he'd killed by now was beyond counting.

Sulbbang clenched and unclenched his fist a couple of times, muttering.

"About time one of them dropped…"

He was deep in the thing every RPG player experiences at least once — farming for an item drop. This time it was a rare accessory, and he was slaughtering minotaurs without end to get it.

Alone, it would have been lonely work. With the stream running, it wasn't so bad. Games were always more fun with company, after all.

Though in a game like Infinity Black, other people's presence wasn't always welcome.

At the very edge of the minimap, for the briefest instant, a white dot — the marker for another player — flickered into view. His eyes narrowed.

"What was that. Did I just see something?"

A strange sense of déjà vu. He was sure something like this had happened once before…

This was a moment that demanded raised alertness. Sulbbang tightened his grip on the greatsword.

But nothing appeared. Maybe it had been his imagination. He scanned the surroundings — not a soul in sight. The white dot never returned to the minimap. He'd mis-seen it, or it had just been someone passing through.

— Or so he thought, in the instant before his vision went black and his health bar began plummeting at a mad rate.

"Mph— mmph?"

The fingers gripping the greatsword were sliced ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠open and lost their strength. Next the hollows of his knees, then his Achilles tendons, cut in sequence, stripping him of mobility. Severing the tendons at every major joint took less than a blink.

Sulbbang couldn't even manage to pull the scrap of cloth off his face. Warning messages flooded in — this part broken, that part unusable, on and on.

You didn't expect many players of this caliber to be around. And the sensation wasn't entirely unfamiliar — a slender leg settling against his throat, something he was certain he'd felt before. Both legs crossed, and his breath slowly closed off.

A glimpse of black clothing and stockings. And a breathing he felt he could hear even without listening.

At this point, there was no mistaking whose work this was.

"Pfft. Long time no see."

Unlike before, when it had seemed to ring and blur, the young voice came through quite clearly now. It was still the kind of voice that seemed to melt something in a person. But it no longer felt dangerous the way it once had.

"Hey, you… you said you weren't killing people anymore…"

"I did. But as long as I don't kill you, it's fine, right? Can't I play with you just a little longer?"

"You call that a—"

"I'm kidding. I'll let you go."

The legs that had been clamping down hard finally released. He wasn't kicked away like before, but a firm shove of the hands made it clear he was meant to get off. Face-down on the ground, Sulbbang clutched his throat and coughed several times — keck, keck.

Gawol, reflected in his eyes, grinned. The dagger that had been idly weaving between her fingers slipped back into the folds of her clothes.

"What, so you're back now?"

"It's not completely finished yet, but for now."

"So the second you come back, the first thing you do is come kill me?"

"I didn't kill you. Just dropped by to say hello, that's all."

That day, Gawol left her "regards" with nearly twenty streamers.