Group Draft Ceremony (4)
Once each group had been assigned one player, the order cycled back around and the chance to nominate fell to me.
Kelberos and Traveler were top seeds, so they were off-limits.
Luce still hadn't been placed in a group.
That meant if I wanted to, I could pull Luce into my group and settle things right there.
But even with the opportunity in front of me, I couldn't bring myself to take it.
Plenty of people were hoping a "Korean" would place high in this Arena.
I had no reason to care what they thought—but Luce probably did.
If she ended up on my team, the pressure would crush her.
So just this once, I'd let her go.
I was going to win either way.
In a group of four, only two survivors. Subtract me, and that left a single open slot for someone else to advance.
We were going to meet higher up anyway. No point loading her with that kind of weight.
"Alright, next up—Group E, pick one. Player Gawol's turn. She's a player with a real spark of personality, so everyone's dying to see how she reacts, right? I've been waiting for this moment myself."
Before I knew it, Hoeun had stepped up and handed me the mic.
There was a strange look of anticipation on her face.
What? Why are you looking at me like that?
The cameras seemed to be lingering on me more than usual, too, which left me vaguely unsettled.
"So, Player Gawol. You're highly likely to face off against Player Ripper of Acid Gaming. A lot of Assassin users hold him up as a role model—how are you feeling about that?"
"Hmm. Not much of a reaction, honestly. I'm not one of those many Assassins."
"Meaning you don't care who your opponent is?"
"Right. They're someone I have to beat either way. That said, there is one thing I rate highly about Player Ripper."
Hoeun's mouth curled up, clearly hooked.
"Now I'm curious! What part?"
"The way he accurately evaluates both his own skill and his opponent's. From what I saw earlier, Player Kelberos doesn't seem to manage that very well."
The moment the words left my mouth, a dozen pairs of eyes swung toward me.
Surprisingly, Ripper didn't seem bothered. Kelberos's gaze, though, was mixed in among them.
A dismissive little snort. The corner of his mouth twitching upward—my eyes didn't miss it.
I didn't bother calling it out.
That was something I'd have to prove with my skill anyway.
Objectively speaking, the recognized powerhouse wasn't me—it was Kelberos.
If my confidence was backed by real ability, it would read as guts. If it wasn't, it would just be arrogance.
Every sport had athletes who'd built their name on provocative talk.
At this point it wasn't even novel. The era when you could grab attention just by spouting strong words had long since passed.
I'd have no choice but to show, in the matches themselves, that I wasn't all talk.
"A rookie interview full of fire. I'd love to hear Player Kelberos's reaction as well, but… there's still a long way to go in the order. Let's see Player Gawol's pick!"
Center stage. On the podium, the nameplates of the remaining players were laid out.
A lot of the unaffiliated amateurs like me had already been scooped up; what was left were mostly name-brand pro gamers.
As I scanned the plates, Luce's name flashed past for a second.
A brief temptation. My hand almost drifted toward it on its own before I reined it in.
My choice was a little further over.
LB Rime. What we called Rime back home.
Like Luce, she was a North American Lancer player famous for rock-solid play.
Ordinarily a rough matchup for an Assassin… but I happened to be particularly good at taking Lancers apart.
I held my selection up to the camera lens, and Hoeun let out a delighted shriek.
"Good heavens! Player Rime goes into Group E as pick two! You just chose the kind of opponent an Assassin would normally do everything to avoid—any particular reason?"
"I'm confident in skirmishes against Lancers. I can handle it. Whether Player Ripper can is another question."
That was a reasonable enough pick.
Ripper had earned a bit of my goodwill, but the world of competition had to stay cold.
Whoever Rime called up next wouldn't be a particularly hard opponent for me.
Like I'd said—I was confident I could survive no matter who showed up.
If I were the type to fold under this much adversity, I never would have provoked Kelberos in the first place.
Rime, our group's last pick, made a safe choice.
Someone who would give her the high ground while still not creating a bad matchup for the rest of us.
Japan's Swordsman player—Fury—filled the final seat, and the group draft ceremony was over.
The members of each group were randomly shuffled, and the match pairings were set.
For all my careful maneuvering, my first opponent turned out to be Rime.
"Hold on! You there! Gawol!"
Would you like to exit the Arena Special Stage? Y/N
Cancelled.
There was nothing left to see on the stage now that the event was over.
Players who already knew each other seemed to be trading a little small talk, but that didn't apply to me.
I was about to walk straight out when a voice snagged me.
I turned around and found Traveler calling my name.
"……?"
"Finally caught you. Why the hell don't you ever accept friend requests?"
"Why are you talking down to me out of nowhere?"
"You started it last time. Said if I had a problem with it, I should do the same."
"Did I say that……?"
Maybe I had.
I'd gone looking for Traveler a total of three times so far.
Two of those had been while he was streaming; the other had been a chance encounter.
Back then I'd been even more vicious than I was now.
Just a stretch of time when I hated the whole world. When every kind of ugly feeling would well up just from breathing.
Especially when I saw streamers or pro gamers—something deep inside me would curdle with pure malice, and I couldn't stand it unless I burned it out.
Had I changed much since then……? Hard to say.
Maybe a little.
The malice itself was still there, but it didn't blaze as violently as it used to.
I'd learned a few ways to bleed it off on my own, and right now the Arena was letting me work the thirst out of my system bit by bit.
Anyway—running into the me of that time couldn't have been a pleasant experience.
Getting off with nothing worse than informal speech might have been lucky.
"So what do you want?"
"I asked why you didn't accept my friend request. I even sent mail, didn't I?"
"Mail……? Oh, I probably deleted it. If the subject line looks weird I just trash it without reading."
"What kind of mail do you even get on a regular basis?"
What kind of mail.
The kind asking me to kill other users, that's what.
And if this guy had sent it, there clearly wouldn't have been any attachments.
Mail with no items inside went straight to delete without even being opened.
If I actually read every piece of mail that came in, I wouldn't be able to keep a healthy mind.
"Don't worry about it. But I did accept your friend request, you know? Around the Final Phase, I think."
"What? Wait, you're right. You accepted it and never even sent a single whisper?"
"You're the one with business. Why would I contact you first……?"
"Okay. Got it. Completely different operating system."
I felt like I was being treated as some kind of freak.
Traveler nodded as if a weight had lifted.
I scowled, left with an unpleasant aftertaste.
"Just say what you came for. You didn't show up because you wanted to shoot the breeze with me."
"Do you even know when I sent that friend request?"
"Of course not."
"Right before last year's international tournament. Winter, so a few months back."
Last year's internationals…… I remembered that one.
It was the tournament Luce had competed in.
National team tryouts, so Traveler would have been in it too.
Not that I'd paid him any attention.
"The one where you lost to Kelberos?"
"……Yeah."
"What's that got to do with me?"
"Similar business to back then. We've got an Assassin in our group this time. And you've got a Lancer in yours. Mutual interests line up, don't they?"
"Hmm."
I could see what he was getting at.
Traveler's main class was Lancer.
Different style from our group's Rime, but he could still make a decent sparring partner.
"You want us to practice against each other?"
"Exactly. It's not a bad deal for you either."
"What about your team's Assassin? You've got Sparrow."
"He's on vacation. He won't log in until it's over, no matter what."
So he'd come looking for me as someone who could fill in for practice?
It didn't feel bad. One way or another, it meant he was acknowledging me.
Recognition from an enemy, especially, carried a particular weight.
But there was something I needed to make clear first.
"How much are you paying?"
"What?"
"Money. Money. Don't tell me you thought I'd do this for free? Then forget it."
"This isn't a loss for you either……"
"That's a pro gamer's perspective. I'm a civilian. In that time I'd make more money just running party hunts."
If there was money to be squeezed out, you squeezed it.
My time wasn't free.
It was true that practicing with Traveler would help me too.
But I didn't need to cling to it. Everyone in Group E except me was a pro gamer.
There was plenty of match footage, which meant plenty of material to analyze my opponents with.
And as for sharpening my instincts right before a match…… wouldn't the streamers broadcasting live be happy to help?
Once he realized how firm I was being, Traveler's words dried up.
"……How much do you need?"
"More than I'd make going out to hunt in that same time."
"Hah. Fine. I'll ask the team, so from now on just answer your damn messages."
"Of course, valued customer!"
"Wow. How does a person manage to be that annoying?"
Annoying? Harsh.
I was just deeply professional, that was all.
If he had a problem with it, he could always make me a pro gamer himself.