If We Fought For Real, I'd Win
A curtain of blue descends.
The last match before reaching Platinum.
Sorry to my opponent, but I'm planning to finish this with as little mercy as possible. After all, dragging things out and toying with them would be worse for the other side.
I steady my spear and observe my opponent.
A katana in both hands… a warrior? The blade was too long to call it an assassin's weapon, too short to call it a warrior's. Their face was hidden behind a black mask marked with a single white line, and the pair of red eyes floating above it reminded me, for some reason, of Yena.
And yet the aura was nothing like Yena's at all.
Their raw power wasn't all that different from the Gold-tier users I'd been facing all day.
My opponent spots me too, failing to hide their surprise — eyes that seemed to say they never expected to run into me here.
A familiar reaction. Ninety percent of the people I'd matched with today had looked at me exactly like that.
The countdown begins, and I move my spear fast. My target is the heart of an opponent who's simply waiting for me to come to them. The green spear prepares to pierce that heart without a shred of mercy.
But the spear fails to reach its mark, deflected away by the katana.
"Just as I expected."
Pababak!
Kakagakang—!
"…!"
A blade too fast for the eye to follow came slicing down at me, and in the same breath I caught it on my spear. The speed was astonishing, the weight of each strike crushing — and before I knew it, my body had been shoved violently backward.
Did you just block that? — the sheer audacity in my opponent's voice made my jaw clench, and the figure that had barely moved until now exploded into motion.
In an instant they claimed the space behind me. No — beside me. No, in front of me…
"Mirage Shadow, is it?"
A skill Yena used. If I remember right, it's something only 3rd Advancement assassins can pull off. So is that person an assassin?
…But they're too strong for one.
The emphasis on raw power was far too heavy for an assassin. And yet the speed at which they evaded my spear and repositioned was far too quick for a warrior. So what were they?
"See you."
The blades of the clones surrounding me from every direction came raining down. I twisted my spear, and my body along with it. In a heartbeat, a current of wind spiraled around me — and for a split second, the mana threads linking the surrounding katanas to their master grew faint, the clones' blades blurring into nothing before they could land a real blow.
Tssik! — and in the middle of it all, a single real katana grazed my shoulder.
Out of all those blades, exactly one had managed to wound me. A thin bead of blood welled up and trickled out.
"Ha! You don't get to say no to— kgh!"
Since my spearhead was tied up deflecting the wave of katanas and I couldn't move freely, I instead jabbed outward with the shaft's end and knocked my opponent away. Struck squarely in the abdomen, they couldn't withstand the impact — boom — and went slamming into the arena wall. The katanas flew from their master's hands and scattered in every direction.
Speed and strength high, defense not so much, it seemed.
"Shit…"
"That genuinely surprised me."
Summoning a crowd of katana-wielding clones to attack. It wasn't the first time I'd seen enemies fight this way, but in almost every case, those clones were pure illusion. Not a single one of them carried real offensive power of its own.
But the katana-bearing clones just now had all carried attack power on par with the original. That's why I'd deliberately warped the flow of mana and severed their connections.
System-driven skills that fire off automatically at an enemy keep showing me results that blow right past my expectations. As expected — Yena included, matches against skilled players are just plain fun.
I'm looking forward to the Mock Siege Battle.
Whether their stamina had run dry or their HP had, my opponent let out a long, ragged breath and muttered.
"Goddamn… what the— no. I'm not, I'm not done yet!"
"Seems like you're about to lose, though?"
"That's— yeah, that's only because I'm a smurf! Bring my main and you're dead on the spot!"
Is that so? Come to think of it, I think I did hear something about "not letting me say no" earlier.
"This smells a lot like celebrity obsession — were you actually sniping me?"
No answer. Suddenly my opponent's eyes were darting wildly, cold sweat beading down their mask. So it's true, then.
Hmm… I gave my spear a lazy twirl. The fight was already over. Their clones must have devoured their stamina, because they could barely twitch, and their HP looked low as well. Whatever they tried, there wouldn't be a gap big enough for a counter.
In that case…
"Then why not bring your main out?"
"…What?"
"If you want to fight me on your main, all you have to do is step up."
If their main is that confident, they should just fight on it. From all the Hidden pieces and Legendary gear they'd flashed around, their main is clearly stronger — but the matchmaking lobby balances that separately, and if it's truly unfair, I can simply push myself and take them on anyway.
Not that it matters. This is my last match for today anyway.
I've always fought in the gaps between the strong, so battles against stronger opponents are old hat to me.
"Y-yeah! Let's do it! Just you wait!"
"Okay."
"…No wait!"
"Yes?"
No, no… not now… they mumbled under their breath, then abruptly snapped their head up.
"It'll happen someday. Just… not today."
"When?"
"Later!"
Someday, huh…
"Then may I send you a friend request?"
"Huh?"
"A friend request. You said we'd fight again sometime — send me a message through this."
I sent the friend request to Cookies & Cream. Dazed, they accepted.
What an adorable name.
"Then."
The spinning spear shot forward with a roar. Cookies gritted their teeth and threw themselves into a desperate roll across the ground. By the time the katana back in their hand was leveled at my throat —
"Ugh."
— the spearhead had long since punched clean through Cookies' body. Their form leaned against mine, as if for support, and dissolved. I left a small message of encouragement behind.
"Looking forward to it."
"…Get lost."
RED WIN
Gold 699 Points → Gold 700 Points
Platinum Promotion: ✔ ☐ ☐
I'd assumed the promotion was instant, but it turned out reaching Platinum required winning two out of three matches. I'd already won one, so all that remained was a single more victory. I picked up that win without much trouble and ascended to Platinum.
"Goddamn it."
Goddamn it, goddamn it, goddamn it.
"…Do you have to swear that much?"
"What? Am I not allowed to vent a little?"
"It's unpleasant to watch. And the manager keeps asking you not to curse on stream, remember?"
"Ugh… Haneul. I am very angry right now, so would you kindly get out?"
"Fine, fine…"
Haneul left the room.
Left alone, Chukachip brought both hands up near her face and replayed the match in her mind.
Honestly, she'd never imagined running into her. Sure, one of her smurfs, StrengthAssassin, was parked at the very top of Gold, and Lily was in Gold too — but Gold was drowning in players. It wasn't as if she'd painstakingly synced her login time to snipe her, either. She'd just logged on and queued up right away.
It wasn't a meeting she'd wanted that badly.
"Crazy bitch…"
And yet they'd met. By the most absurd stroke of luck, she'd been matched against Lily, who was in the middle of her promotion run.
She'd thought it was a golden opportunity. Lily talk was all she heard these days. Even if she got dismantled in the Siege Warfare, there was still over a month until the Mock Siege Battle, and she had no intention of enduring endless, pointless comparisons until then. She'd planned to use this chance to shred Lily using a mere smurf — not even her main — and turn all the whispers about how "Chukachip would obviously beat Lily" into empty rumors…
"…I lost."
She'd lost. Utterly, completely lost.
For Lily, landing a clean hit on her was remarkable. For Chukachip, it was nothing of the sort. This had been a character she'd poured real effort into among her smurfs — a ranker-caliber build with Legendary items and a handful of Hidden pieces on top. Only the level and tier were low; the raw spec was identical to that of a top-1000 ranker.
Chukachip had to win this.
"…I didn't lose."
She hadn't lost. Honestly — it was a smurf, wasn't it? She hadn't even used her signature twin spears, and she'd been living as Chukachip for years now. This character was barely a super-rookie.
Cookies & Cream lost — not Chukachip.
"If we fought for real, I'd win."