Paradise Regained (4)

A gust of wind sent white flecks of snow drifting down onto my head.

From the crown of my skull to my neck — and sometimes onto the bare skin exposed near my chest. The snow that touched my skin melted with a cool, clean sensation.

Carefully, I covered my mouth with the edge of my collar and let out a long, slow breath.

"Haa……"

The white vapor that left my lips rose and then died against the fabric of my clothes. Next came a deep inhale — huuuuup — filling my lungs, after which I held my breath once more.

This battlefield was the Snowy Mountain of Proof, blanketed in permafrost. Its primary gimmicks were the extremely rare avalanches and the crevasses that lay in wait like traps. According to the game's lore, it was a place where the northern barbarians came to prove themselves. Tradition held that those not chosen by the gods would fail to find the crevasses and fall to their deaths. In short, it was a map where you had to watch out for the cliffs hidden beneath the snow.

In low-rank games, it wasn't uncommon to see allies die before they ever even met the enemy. That also made the bottoms of those cliffs excellent places to hide — but this time, the opposing team had a Monk.

It was a class often picked in tournaments specifically to keep Assassins in check. Monks had detection skills that sensed movement. There were plenty of ways to break an Assassin's stealth, but this one stood out for its unusually short cooldown. The downside was a situation like mine right now — when the Assassin simply didn't move. If you weren't approaching under stealth but were instead lying in wait somewhere suitable, the skill couldn't find you. Still, it forced a tedious psychological game either way.

Then again, it was also a skill people used carelessly. Because the cooldown was so short, cycling it regularly had become the established standard. Revealing Pulse's cooldown, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠minimized, was twelve seconds — on average, you could assume fifteen or less.

From the moment the first pulse reached me, I started counting in my head.

Good. Cooldown was roughly 13.5 seconds. From here on, I'd measure everything against that interval.

Not long after I'd initiated Ambush, footsteps approached from nearby — following the path I'd predicted. Every time someone moved close by, a faint vibration traveled up through my back and legs. The sensation was fairly heavy; odds were a Knight-type class had come near me. Given the enemy composition, it was probably an Inquisitor.

I was currently hidden inside a crevasse. With no allies nearby, every presence around me was an enemy. We'd long since left the realm of low-rank games, so the enemies were checking the cliffs one by one. And the moment that presence arrived right in front of my nose — before the snow covering me could be swept away — I channeled my mana.

Fortunately, the timing was perfect.

"Just in case, check inside the crevasses too. They've got an Assassin — might be hiding in one."

Oh, correct answer. I barely managed to suppress the smirk that threatened to surface. Getting caught while knowing exactly what's coming was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the most infuriating feeling of all. Next time, they'd do well to shove some snow in and check carefully. Even under stealth, physical collision detection didn't disappear — snow would look like it was bumping into something invisible.

At any rate, the enemy Inquisitor failed to find me and moved on. Perfect, as far as I was concerned. That one had been a real headache. Inquisitors were a fairly troublesome matchup for Assassins.

I slowly climbed out of the crevasse and took position behind the enemy. Only four seconds remained until the pulse's cooldown came back up. There was no chance of my Ambush effect returning in that window, so I had to strike immediately.

I pre-queued an area skill between myself and the enemy main force, then flung a snare toward the Inquisitor.

"……!"

I had to finish this before he could scream. The moment the taut cord coiled around the man's neck like a snake, I hauled him toward the cliff with everything I had. No matter how much strength a Knight-type class possessed, the neck couldn't overcome the power of my arms. On a map where fall deaths were possible, a single moment of carelessness meant death. Once his body lost its balance, it plummeted into the endless abyss and never came back.

The ambush itself had been silent, but the kill log was visible to everyone. The enemies spun around at once. The fastest to react was the Gunslinger. The long barrel of a rifle locked onto me with perfect precision. From that position, the crosshair was probably on my forehead? Not a bad skill level for this bracket. I'd want to deal with that one quickly if I could.

The moment the muzzle flashed, the Gunslinger's mouth made a deflated sound.

"Ga-wol? Why are you in this bracket……"

The bullet tore through the air toward me, but there was no need to dodge. It was time for the skill I'd pre-queued to land.

"Just climbing back up."

"You've got to be kidding me."

Chains came plunging down from the distant sky in a dense cascade. The impact shook the snowy mountain, kicking up a thick white fog, and the incoming bullet was crushed beneath the chains. In that instant of completely blocked vision, I moved my Chain-Sickle. Before me, it looked as though several massive pillars had been haphazardly driven into the ground. Sight lines between me and the enemies were fully severed.

But that was fine. I'd memorized everything.

A direct-fire weapon like a gun couldn't attack through the chains, but a flexible weapon like the Chain-Sickle could bend its trajectory around them. I adjusted the path while painting the last positions I'd seen in my mind. Using the sensation caught at the blade's tip as a guide, I chained the next attack.

Contact. A little shallow, but the debuff that triggered on hit gave me certainty. That meant I could trust the sensation left in my hands. I'd already mapped the terrain completely. The tactile feedback transmitted through the chains, the vibrations born of frantic footsteps, the voices I could half-hear — all of it became clues. I couldn't see with precision, but I'd laid down plenty of skills that would bend the chains' trajectories. This was exactly why a weapon with a wide attack range was so good. If you had even a rough idea of the opponent's position, you could just swing and connect!

The sound of metal grinding against metal rang out without rest.

In ranked games, I kept racking up easy wins.

Honestly, I felt a little bad. An abnormal win rate. Match contents that simply shouldn't have been possible under normal circumstances. These were what you'd call smurf games. Not that I had any other option.

When a new season started, tiers went through a soft reset — that much was natural. It wasn't a full wipe, but you got placed far below your original tier. The problem was that I hadn't played a single ranked match since the season rolled over. Normally I would have climbed ahead of time for the quarterly rewards, but this time my account had been locked out, so I couldn't. With no other method available, the only choice was to win fast and climb.

So under ordinary circumstances, I would have kept playing. But right now, that wasn't possible.

"This kid. Something good happens and she doesn't even bother to call."

"Right? Unnie's a little hurt."

"……Well, I got a little carried away when I heard the login restriction was lifted."

"Yeah, it looked that way. You were showing up on every stream I tried to watch."

"Ah. You've been watching a lot of streams, huh."

The café I'd been summoned to. The two women who'd arrived first looked at me and burst into peals of laughter.

As for why I was here……