Crossroads (1)
Sigma's Camelia.
Shin Eun-chae was the most promising rising star in the pro league right now.
She had talent from the start. A friend had talked her into trying the game, and within three months she was knocking on the door of the highest tier. Around the half-year mark, Sigma came calling with a trainee offer.
The looks from the seniors had been something else. Her unbroken growth curve earned her plenty of jealousy. At one point they wouldn't even practice with her. In the end a whole batch of trainees got cut, and she was assigned a dedicated coach of her own.
For a while, she had even let herself believe it — that this world wasn't so hard for her, that she would simply rise to the "summit" everyone else dreamed of. The outcome was already decided, she thought. It was only a matter of sooner or later.
Looking back, she had taken it far too lightly.
I'll stake my entire coaching career on this — you're going to be huge.
As long as you don't wander down some strange path, you will succeed. No question.
As much as our team's Luce. As much as Q Prime's Traveler. Maybe even more.
When that strict coach finally acknowledged her, Camelia had felt like she owned the whole world. She never once doubted that unshakable bearing of his. She believed in herself as much as her coach believed in her.
It wasn't empty confidence. Her talent was real. She had proven it with results, after all.
An unstoppable force.
Camelia swept through the second-division league in the most literal sense of the word. She couldn't win every match, but she looked good in every single one of them.
But maybe she had gotten too drunk on success. Curious how far she could go, she entered the Arena — and there Camelia drank the bitter cup of a second-round preliminary exit.
An opponent she hadn't even registered. She had heard something about some weird kid going around killing pro gamers, but she barely set foot on the open field anyway. She only remembered the nickname Ga-wol after the match was already over.
And she had been crushed. Beaten so thoroughly she had nothing left to say for the shame of it.
And here Ga-wol just floors it. You dare test me?
To sum that up: "I'm good at fighting. I'm confident. Attack only!"
What was Ga-wol's build again earlier? Yeah. She really was good at fighting.
Failure that arrived without warning had driven her spirit into the dirt. Her fallen body felt shattered, as if she had been doused in ice water while still in agony.
As one streamer had put it, the other side had simply been better. The public seemed to settle on something like "she fought well enough given the circumstances," but Camelia's own thoughts were different.
That person was… on another level. There had been a gap in capability that felt impossible to close. It was dizzying.
How much stronger do I have to get before I can beat her?
Would that day even come? No matter how calmly she thought it through, she couldn't begin to measure it. It felt as if a god had drawn a line and said, This is as far as you go.
And that had made her so furious that Camelia had buried her face in her pillow and cried. After she had wept until the pillow was soaked through, she went back and watched every single one of Ga-wol's matches.
Was there anything more ridiculous than this? Before she knew it, she was rooting for Ga-wol.
When Ga-wol lost consecutive matches to Kelberos, Camelia clenched her fists hard enough that blood ran from her palms. She marveled at that overwhelming swordsmanship. Watching Ga-wol tear open her own throat, she felt some dark, complicated emotion. And when Ga-wol finally seized the championship — Camelia had been happy, as if she had won it herself.
And so—
She could no longer forgive Ga-wol.
I just don't get it.
With skill like that, why refuse to go pro? It wasn't as if she had no ambition. She had fought like she was dying to win!
Even while her body trembled from phantom pain, Ga-wol had worn the happiest expression of anyone in the world.
Camelia had thought they would meet in the next league. Ally or enemy — either was fine. Either way, she would get to fight Ga-wol again.
But it was different. Ga-wol was living at her leisure, as if she had forgotten the Arena entirely. Camelia alone had burned with competitive fire, and Ga-wol had taken the victory and run.
Battlefield: Duelist's Corridor (Winner Takes All)
Sigma eSports vs Q Prime
A cruel battlefield. A cruel opponent.
On the very map where she had suffered her first defeat to Ga-wol, she met an Assassin. At some point it had become the class she hated most of all.
I will win. I absolutely will!
She had no intention of losing to an Assassin. Someday she would tear that Ga-wol to shreds with her own hands. She had to go demand answers from that cowardly runaway.
Sparrow might be the best Assassin in the country, but compared to Ga-wol he was still far below. If she lost here, she would have no right to throw down a challenge to Ga-wol.
So just wait a little longer. If you won't come to me, I'll come to you.
Yesterday's match had finally ended in Luce's victory. I felt a little sorry for Traveler, who was probably still roaring with rage somewhere, but I remained a Luce fan. If you asked me which of the two winning would make me happier, I wouldn't hesitate for a second.
That joy became my strength.
The scheduled weekend rehab session was over, and once again I had completely drained my stamina.
"Ugh, I'm dying…"
I had planned to head straight home today. But somehow I was craving something to eat.
Lately my lifestyle had been improving in a good direction. Exploring the New Continent meant I had to force myself to sync schedules with my party members, and getting regular sleep had somehow boosted my appetite across the board.
Alright. Convenience store it is. A loaf of bread and some milk should fill me up.
"Welcome."
The part-timer greeted me halfheartedly without looking up from their phone. That was the nice thing about a hospital convenience store. Patients of every kind came and went all day, so a girl on crutches barely registered as noteworthy. No need to worry about other people's stares.
From the shelves I picked out a packaged bagel and a bottle of milk — not the paper carton I usually drank, but one in a glass bottle. My hand had gone to it naturally because it looked just like the recovery potions from the game.
I really shouldn't fall for marketing like this…
But what could I do? It was a gamer's instinct. Like it or not, if something collabed with my game, my hand reached for it at least once. The concept of eating in-game food in real life was especially lethal.
In the past I never would have dared pick it up, but these days I allowed myself a daily living budget of about ten thousand won. I had the strength to indulge my desires a little.
I strode up to the counter with full confidence and completed the payment. And the milk I drank was…
Just milk.
Not particularly good, not particularly bad. I had wanted to try it at least once, so I could count it as a wish fulfilled. In the game I had to stick to potions and the like that had no taste at all anyway.
I couldn't drink the original milk-flavored recovery potions in-game. At my Sensory Synchronization Rate, the implemented flavors felt absurdly over-seasoned. Everything I ate was so intensely flavored it backfired. Natural enough, when the tastes were designed for a regular user's maximum sync rate of thirty percent.
Still, the glass bottle that looked like a potion flask remained charming. It felt like the game had, just a little, eaten its way into reality. I tucked the bottle into my bag as a souvenir and left the convenience store.
The bus stop was at the hospital's rear gate. I walked straight out of the store and down the path — and spotted an unfamiliar beast.
"…?"
— Woof. Woof woof!
A golden retriever roughly the size of my own body. By size it was fair to call it a dog, but it looked so cute I figured "puppy" was fine too.
Looking at that golden fur, some indescribable desire boiled up in me. I wanted to touch that fluffy mass. It would definitely be soft and plush and make me feel better. It was a powerful large breed, sure… but it was grinning at a complete stranger like me. It had to be safe. Golden retrievers were all good dogs, right?
"Who's a good boy… C'mere."
I approached and held out my hand, and the dog came bounding over. Panting, it licked my fingers. The rough, scratchy texture made the corners of my mouth curl up before I could stop them.
Strange. Had I always liked animals this much? My heart was pounding so hard I wanted to keep it in my arms all day.
"Heh. I wish I had a treat for you."
Greedy, I took another step closer. I let it lean against my lower stomach and gently stroked its head. The warm body heat and silk-soft fur were addictive. How long did I spend petting its neck and head?
Feeling good, the dog started thrashing its tail hard — then launched itself at me as if to tackle me outright. Of course my weak body couldn't take the weight of a large dog.
"E-ehik? Augh…!"
My vision flipped as I went down. Thankfully I managed to lift my left leg just enough to protect it, but my hip and back hit the ground hard instead. My whole body throbbed with pain — and then there was the dog. From underneath, it was far too big for me. Once it decided to play, I couldn't handle it at all.
"Hey, hey… You're heavy. Left foot — don't touch the left foot. And don't lick my neck. Eek!"
"Jessie? What are you doin— Jessie! No!"
Thank goodness. The owner must have been nearby; the large dog's body was pulled off me. Looking down at me instead was someone familiar.
"Daeun?"
Scratch that "thank goodness." Looking up at Luce staring down at me, I scrubbed a dry wash over my face with my palm. It felt like the world was tormenting me again.
So embarrassing…