Struggle (3)
1 : 0
Bamboo Forest
Annihilation
Luce and Traveler collided.
A gunlance roared with fire at point-blank range, and a blaze of radiant light tore the smoke aside. Massive weapon and shield crashed together again and again, trading a heavy conversation of metal on metal.
Paladin versus Lancer.
In a pure one-on-one, the matchup favored the Lancer. In practice, too, Traveler held the higher win rate in their individual duels. But Infinity Black's pro league was a game built around team fights — and when you measured by team win rate rather than solo skill, Luce's side held the edge.
The two teams' philosophies showed in the class choices of their captains alone. Knight-line classes offered relatively free class switching, and yet Luce had chosen a Paladin who could support her teammates, while Traveler had taken a Lancer whose personal combat power ran high.
Sigma's Luce was a leader who held her teammates up — a support-type tank who raised everyone else's ceiling off the foundation of her own high floor. She was the shield that stood on the front line and kept her team alive.
Traveler, by contrast, was a leader who charged ahead of his teammates. The Lancer's trademark brute force in a fight. An outstanding read on the shape of every engagement. He was the spear that drove forward on the strength of his own skill.
"If Warrior can't hold, then you circle back, Swallow! Are you just going to leave their ADC free-firing?!"
"Then what about our ADC—"
"I'm not even asking you to deal damage — just don't die, please. Fall back behind me!"
Traveler shouted like a man clawing for purchase. The tide of the fight had already tipped hard against them. Even so, his lance never stopped — the assault kept coming, relentless.
Lately, the balance between the two teams had collapsed. It was true that Sigma's players had leveled up dramatically — their teamfight competence had ballooned, as if someone had been beating the lessons into them. Growth measured against a single monster as the standard. Guessing whose influence that was hardly took effort.
In this country, who else could blow a change like that into existence overnight? An amateur who had never once shown her face in the pro league — and yet a woman whose mere appearance could whip up a storm. The fact that Sigma's growth had begun in lockstep with her hiatus was no coincidence.
Everyone still seemed to be keeping it quiet, but the day would come eventually.
That, however, was not the point.
"This is… frustrating. This season… I really wanted to win."
"I know. You've worked hard."
"No. We haven't worked as hard as Sigma."
Traveler barely managed to keep his teeth from grinding. His opponent was Luce — someone who deserved every ounce of respect. Pouring out every raw emotion here was not what a professional did.
When Sigma had grown, Q Prime had not. Or was "had not" even the right phrase? Traveler genuinely wondered whether this team possessed anything like ambition at all.
It wasn't that the individuals were bad. If their raw ability had truly been lacking, they never would have contested Sigma for supremacy this long. What Traveler hated with a visceral, bone-deep loathing was the fact that they were satisfied.
Second place is still good. Fine — the words were true enough. A runner-up finish was never a failed career. Plenty of pro gamers retired without ever setting foot on the threshold of a finals stage.
But who the hell didn't know that? That was exactly why it burned.
They could have won. That was what made the anger worse.
"See you in the playoffs. We'll come better prepared next time."
"Alright."
Camellia's spearpoint tore through their allied Priest. Their Assassin failed to kill the enemy ADC, and even Traveler could not overcome Luce and Camellia at the same time.
In the moment he fell on a battlefield left empty around him, Traveler quietly closed his eyes.
He didn't need to check. It was obvious. Today's esports journalists would write that Traveler had fought valiantly — the polite way of packaging the fact that, in the end, he had not won.
And nothing would change.
Ah. I can't do this anymore.
I want to win too.
Originally, I hadn't planned on going on stream for a while. Between practice with the pros — second squad or first, it didn't matter — I figured I'd be busy enough with Sigma. That held until Luce reviewed my play logs and came looking for me.
"Daeun? I distinctly remember telling you not to overdo it."
"It wasn't overdoing it. Even normally… I do about this much."
"Do you know why Infinity Black has a four-hour death penalty?"
"…"
"Back then, they needed a safety lock so death wouldn't just keep repeating. It's a leftover from that era."
I got thoroughly scolded. What if something actually went wrong from pushing myself like that? The warning that it could backfire and make things worse sent a cold shiver down my spine. Forced marches like that first day would never be allowed again.
I'd also been told to take at least a full day of proper rest — and right on cue, an appearance offer had come in from Eldrin. Luce said I only needed to keep the specific contract details secret. No — if anything, she wanted me out there actively. The bigger my influence grew, the more carefully the game company would have to watch its step around me. I was even cleared to drop a few hints.
So this, too, was just another kind of fight.
By car, Eldrin's studio was close. I arrived in no time.
"Welcome! Hot out there, right? Was the trip rough?"
"I was fine. A little warm, though."
"Yeah, yeah. The weather turned hot so fast. Who knows what's going on. Want a glass of water?"
"Ah — yes, please."
Summer was creeping in. Before long the pro league would open its playoffs, and the spring season champion would be decided. This title would almost certainly belong to Sigma.
The cold water left me feeling a little clearer. Eldrin seemed to be fiddling with the setup before going live, and I watched while a staff member brushed out my hair.
"So what are we doing today?"
"Hmm. I was going to do some light chatter and then play, but since you're here, Daeun, maybe a mukbang?"
"A mukbang is still just chatter, though, right?"
"Yep. I've got a few topics lined up. Pro league talk, and romance sto—"
"Pro league talk, please."
Good. Cut that off before anything dangerous came out. My reaction speed wasn't dead yet.
Still — chatter. I had no idea what I was supposed to do to make people happy. Last time… I was pretty sure I'd shown my armpit. I still couldn't figure out why anyone liked that.
"Just so you know in advance — if anyone asks me to show something this time, I'm ignoring all of it. Even if you ask, unnie, no."
"…I wasn't the one who asked last time either, was I? I actually tried to stop you."
"Ah."
That had been an alcohol-related accident. At the time, I'd needed something to numb the fear, and the booze that happened to be in sight was the culprit. A person's brain made irrational decisions once alcohol got in. So I was completely innocent. The people who'd egged on a drunk me into doing something stupid were the ones at fault.
Once the staff finished prepping me, I sat in the chair. I didn't want the camera catching my left leg. I adjusted the angle carefully, then fanned myself with my hand — the AC wasn't quite enough.
"Oh, right. I stocked ice cream in the freezer. Want one?"
"Oh — yeah, I'll have one."
"What flavor?"
"Do you have vanilla?"
"I'll grab it for you."
What I received was a pure white ice cream bar. The moment I put it near my mouth, it was so cold I could neither bite it nor really suck on it. Press my tongue to it and it would stick — frozen solid. Well, it would melt if I waited a little.
"I'm about to go live. Want to finish eating first?"
"Hm? No, it's fine to start."
"Got it."
The moment the stream went live, the viewer count climbed fast. While Eldrin beamed and ran through her opening, I watched the chat. Mentions of me cropped up often enough that it was fun to browse.
As time passed, the ice cream bar that had been frozen solid softened a little. I brought my tongue to it carefully, just to check. About ready to eat, I thought.
A few light licks to keep the melt from running down. I tasted the vanilla ice cream bar, then set it against my lips. Still a bit firm to bite clean through, but soft enough to hold in my mouth.
Human body temperature sits around 36.5 degrees Celsius. I worked my tongue slowly over the ice cradled inside my mouth — and it melted fast. The moment I bit down on the ice cream bar, now perfect for a clean break—
Eldrin was staring at me with a blank expression.
"Hm? What is it?"
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