VS Game (3)
'Might as well call this the mild version. It's better than underhanded scheming behind the scenes.'
Examining the message board in detail to figure out what was going on, I let out a sigh. If I could consider this level of fanbase tension—cheerleading their favorite challengers—a mild issue, then yeah, I'd fully adapted to Fate Road, the constellations' community.
Of course, from my perspective as the actual challenger, I had no desire to create unnecessary rivalries with other climbers just to fuel their expectations.
"Even so, a month?"
I muttered blankly, my mind going numb as I read Perbas's post.
Their way of channeling the overheated rivalry into something constructive? Lay out a stage and have a proper showdown. It was a straight-up bet.
Two fandoms clashing head-on over who would grow more and shift the rankings within the set timeframe. Losers forfeit their staked points; winners claim them. Simple and brutal.
Honestly, I didn't think it was a bad approach. The malicious trolls harassing me were the result of suppressed hatred and misguided attachments twisting into sabotage. Such people could emerge from other fandoms—or even mine.
Creating an official outlet before the real demons showed up was smart.
But there was one glaring problem: the timeframe was way too short.
A month felt absurdly brief—not just to me, but to the gallery users freaking out in confusion. Rankings flip fast in the lower spots, but once you're in the top 20—where "ranker" really kicks in—even climbing one spot is a grind. Everyone's grinding equally hard, getting stronger at the same pace.
Seeing the backlash, Perbas chimed in with clarification. The period had been the hottest topic when hashing out the showdown with 13th place's fan gallery manager, Rienblade's crew.
Made sense, now that he mentioned it. From a neutral constellation's view, my growth—spied on via fan galleries for strategy tips—was undeniable. The longer this dragged, the more inevitable my climb. No wonder they wanted to curb my momentum ASAP.
Shorter time, but bigger rewards if we win. Still, a month? The only major event in that window is conquering the 151st floor main dungeon.
I racked my brain for achievements that could boost my official ranking. Only tower-recognized feats count toward the leaderboard. Personal training gains? Useless for rankings.
"Damn... guess it's all on me to grind."
My lips twisted into a pout as the math sank in. Conquering 151 alone wouldn't cut it. I'd need to hit side dungeons I'd been ignoring.
Rienblade wouldn't sit idle either—he'd get tips from his contracted constellation. In the end, their rivalry screws us over.
If the rewards suck, I'm rioting. Clinging to Perbas's hint about "plenty to gain," I decided to hope for the best. Their prizes were always top-tier anyway. If not... well, back to daily grind streams from the training grounds.
"One more time: this raid is strictly for scouting. If things go south, use an item and bail without hesitation."
While the heavenly civil war raged endlessly in the world beyond the unknown tower, we fought on inside.
Still clinging to rank 1, forever stuck leading the Advance Party, Jeong Chan-su gathered us once more for the 151st floor scout.
"Above all, prioritize survival. Remember, many lives depend on us."
He led with his usual suffocating gravity. Stressing instant evacuation, he openly glanced at me—arms crossed behind Kim Ji-eun.
Don't push yourself. Clearly aimed at me. So blatant, a few nearby exchanged looks.
Think I don't get it? I snorted inwardly. I knew this wasn't concern—it never was.
The 151st dungeon needed half the usual manpower, arguably weaker than 150 in some ways. But despite calling it a "scout," Jeong Chan-su planned to clear it today, true to the original plot.
Grateful he slotted me in... His reason for picking me? Likely to feed me first-clear rewards. Felt weird, but undeniable—he'd been overly attentive lately. The civil war buried the chatter, but I recalled Fate Road buzzing about this for a while.
"No issues, right?"
"Who knows till we go in."
As we geared up—Kim Ji-eun stiff with uncharacteristic tension, unlike her usual pep—I smirked. No half-assing anyway, and now extra motivation. Her "smooth sailing" prediction? Might not pan out.
"It's been ages since we talked."
"You..."
That's when a hulking lizardman warrior loomed before me.
"No clue why, but my constellation suddenly hates your guts."
"..."
Unlike me—spying galleries for a perfect read on Fate Road drama—Rienblade was a standard challenger. Stuck hearing filtered whispers from his sponsor.
"No personal grudge. Like the raid leader said, we'll keep fighting together."
"Got it. If your constellation says so, no choice."
The Rienblade I knew was a straightforward brute. Old guard, but apolitical—no clashes with new blood, just quiet grinding.
What if he learned our "rivalry" stemmed from fanbase pissing contests?
"Frankly, I don't get why I'm competing with you... but great achievers decree it, so I obey. We'll split in the dungeon. Already told the leader—he swapped you and Ksak's spots."
"Wait, where were you originally... what?!"
Per his constellation's will, no same squad. He'd already swapped with Jeong Chan-su—and my new spot? Right next to his faction.
Hold up, how am I supposed to rack up feats now?
Plan in ruins. I'd meant to stray far from Jeong Chan-su, nailing max feats per my pre-scouted 151 layout.
"Insane."
A scorching gaze hit me; glancing back, Jeong Chan-su stared silently.
Flashback to possession's early days: first meeting original protagonist Jeong Chan-su. Spotting my anomaly—unknown variable—he'd gripped my throat without a blink, barking threats.
Now, years later, if I pulled that stunt again... what would he do? Even as a full-series reader and longtime observer, his inner workings eluded me.
"Squads are just for emergencies—who knows what 151's like?"
"...Right."
Kim Ji-eun tilted her head at my grumbling, clueless.
Dungeons vary wildly by type—some brute-force light, others multi-route like 150, or single-path grinds.
151's two routes. Trap gimmicks over massive battles, war-like scale.
Can't play know-it-all in front of Jeong Chan-su. But can't just bus-ride either.
Real-world position vs. Fate Road fandom weight. Dual burdens for this possessor-gallery lurker.
No sharp solution dawned as we entered—even mid-dilemma.