The Sniper's True Voice
The commercial success of Arcadia Online stemmed mostly from the prestige of its PvP content as a competitive sport, yet at its foundation it remained an MMORPG. Because it was so well-known to the general public, PvP had become almost mythologized. Among players it carried the distinct image of “content that only certain people actually play.”
In that sense, most streamers who focused on Arcadia Online tended to cover PvE or lifestyle content. PvP was literally the playground of monsters. The audience that watched it had grown so sharp-eyed that streaming it with average skill usually meant you were lucky if you only got flamed.
Streamer Yorumi, if you had to pick a side, was definitely PvP-focused.
“I heard people saying that guy had quit the game. So why did he have to show up the one time I turn on a daytime stream after so long?”
Like any RPG, there were always those mandatory homework-type activities you had to finish. Even a dedicated PvP streamer couldn’t escape the game’s fundamental rules. Today she had turned her broadcast on a little earlier than usual, planning to knock out several of those chores in one go. Since there weren’t many viewers yet, she figured she might as well do some “spectator participation” content.
Yorumi glanced at the chat and silently agreed. A massive Black man nearly two meters tall was striding toward her party across the open grassland. With no cover on this map, the blazing sunlight mercilessly highlighted his shiny bald head, making him look all the more threatening.
He wore mint-green leather armor with no sleeves—why that color was anyone’s guess—and his pants had been deliberately matched to his skin tone so that at first glance it looked like he wasn’t wearing anything below the waist. The sheer malice of the character’s creator was palpable.
His username was ParkWoojins13thShadow. He had apparently once been a die-hard fan of the pro gamer “Playmaker”… but at some point he had transformed into a lunatic who wandered the game indiscriminately hunting down any streamer who seemed even slightly skilled. His notoriety was well-known not only among streamers but among their audiences as well.
“…Miss Yorumi, what should we do?”
“We could probably run, but…”
Yorumi had just enough time to think, It pisses me off that someone who looks like he should be swinging an axe on a bloody battlefield is carrying a staff instead, before anxious voices rose from the spectator participants. By then her decision had already hardened.
She had run into this infamous vicious sniper several times before—both in ranked matches and out in the field.
“We can’t escape. He’s only showing himself like this because he’s confident he won’t lose us no matter what we do.”
At Yorumi’s confident tone, the two warriors and single priest who had been chosen as participants began gripping their weapons with awkward expressions. Even without words, their faces clearly said, What did we do to deserve this?
Yorumi drew the pair of daggers from her belt in a practiced motion. She had never beaten him in a ranked match where both sides started on equal footing, but this was the open field. She didn’t know how good his gear was, but her side had four people who at least hovered around end-game content.
Thanks to Arcadia Online’s easy class-changing system, the only information she could glean was that he was a caster because he carried a staff. Still, if he was a caster, all they had to do was rush him before he finished casting. There was no reason to drag this out.
“Go!”
At Yorumi’s shout, the two warriors and Yorumi herself shot forward as one. Her main class was Thief, and within the Assassin subclass she was an elite whose skill surpassed every other job in the game. The matchup against casters was so favorable it could only be described as overwhelming.
She had lost to him in ordinary fights before, but she had also suffered plenty of ridiculous defeats she refused to acknowledge. Now that same opponent had willingly stepped onto unfavorable ground. Given how bizarre his behavior was, fighting made more sense than running. Deep down, she also wanted to pay him back for all the humiliation she had suffered.
“Kill him before he can do anything!!!”
She had no idea why ParkWoojins13thShadow had chosen to bring a caster—an unfavorable matchup that Assassins preyed upon—and strut around so arrogantly. Still, his arrogance had gone too far. Gritting her teeth, Yorumi accelerated sharply and vanished as if melting into the shadows.
Optical Ray
The job name “Arcane Mage” and the description “a wizard who wields visionary magic” gave off the impression of some grand, all-knowing archmage. In reality, Arcane Mages were a rather plain class. The so-called visionary magic was simply the manipulation of pure, non-attributed mana.
In-game, Arcane Mages were also quite boring. They could create transparent barriers, turn invisible until they attacked, or conjure walls and shackles to hinder enemy movement.
“Or fire a lump of raw mana as a beam.”
The softly spoken words were swallowed by the explosive crack that followed. Optical Ray was the perfect example of why Arcane Mages were classified as damage-dealing “casters” rather than “supporters” like priests.
The moment light gathered at the tip of the outstretched staff, it had already transformed from a point into a line. The straight beam, faster than sound, pierced straight through the head of one of the charging warriors.
At PvP ranker level, completely dodging was impossible, but reading the staff’s direction and evading was normal. Still, aiming for small targets like the head was difficult. Unfortunately for them, these players were neither rankers nor pros.
“Like I said, the only freak who can dodge that is that guy.”
The short stature felt awkward at first, but the hectic pace left no time to dwell on it. Once she noticed her newly elevated field of view, an entirely different level of comfort washed over her and even made her body feel lighter. The current character’s physique was obviously larger than it had been when she was male, yet this perspective felt far more familiar than the changed one.
The view she had seen for years. The arms and legs she had swung countless times. Perhaps the stress of trying to adapt to a body that had grown strangely unfamiliar had been weighing on her. Simply having a longer stride and higher eye level filled her with an indescribable sense of elation.
Watching the remaining sword-and-shield warrior’s face twist into an even uglier expression only made her feel refreshed enough to laugh. It was her second day in the new house. In the end, the only real stress relief she had was gaming. After so long, actually enjoying a game felt incredibly pleasant.
“Diiiiiie!!!”
The heavily armed sub-tank was probably set up for PvE content. There was little chance he had invested much in mobility. As she calculated the now-invisible Assassin’s position in her head, the corner of her mouth curled up without her realizing it. It felt like she was toying with the wings of a mayfly caught in a net—its moves so obvious they might as well have been written on paper.
At the sound of something slicing through the air, she reflexively tilted her head. A sharply honed dagger grazed past her ear. The first move was always “Shadow Step,” which let the user burst out from the shadow of a destructible object within range. After that, the opening strike against a caster was always aimed at the head. Against a melee dealer it would have been the weapon arm. It was one of streamer “Yorumi’s” habits.
“Are you insane?!”
A shrill voice rang in her ear. Since the Arcane Mage’s ultimate skill, Optical Ray, was on cooldown, even if the first strike failed there was no real danger. An Arcane Mage’s barrier wasn’t a true supporter skill; an Assassin’s damage could break through it and still land effective hits. Once a caster lost the tempo, the side with superior numbers held the advantage.
It was a rational choice, and therefore an easy one to read.
“You hid in this exact spot from the beginning, aiming for this…!”
The mana shackles she had placed in the path of the shadow leaped up and bound the red-haired Assassin, who had frozen mid-swing. The priest, who had been casting a defensive buff and hastily switched to a resurrection spell, had eyes that trembled rapidly. Should he cancel the cast again to dispel the bind on the Assassin, or finish the resurrection?
His judgment was slow. It was proof that he wasn’t very experienced in PK situations. In that instant, the immobilized Assassin and the priest—who might as well be a non-factor—were removed from her mind. All that remained was figuring out how to cook the only sturdy turtle left on the field.
In truth, the moment the opening strike missed and the only member of the party with a favorable matchup against casters was neutralized, Yorumi knew the outcome was decided. All that remained was to watch the tank’s miserable screams as he was slowly toyed with while bound, and the priest’s head being pierced by an Optical Ray the moment its cooldown ended.
The bald Black man who had finished off the stubbornly resisting warrior approached Yorumi with a disgusting smile. Glancing at the chat that was spamming messages about seeing something they shouldn’t, Yorumi’s head drooped in resignation.
“It’s been a while, but you’re the same as ever. At this rate you won’t even reach Demigod this season, let alone Immortal.”
She had meant to keep her head lowered. Yorumi’s head, which had been dipping down, slowly rose again as she sensed something strange. In front of her stood the same bald Black man wearing that same unpleasant smile.
A short silence. Watching question marks flood the chat, Yorumi confirmed her ears were working perfectly. The bald man seemed to notice her staring blankly at him and began to tilt his head.
“…Um.”
“Yes?”
“I think you forgot to turn on your voice changer.”
“Ah.”
At Yorumi’s words, the giant bald man let out a cute little yelp that clashed horribly with his hideous appearance.