049. Amidst the Overwhelming Gap
Seoul, Jongno. In the staff room of the Hunters League broadcast booth, a crowd of LTD team officials had gathered. Naturally, they were there to watch the LTD players who had competed in the Japan-Korea match, and with the results being poor, the atmosphere was equally dismal.
“Sigh… I thought we’d closed the gap a lot, but to think it’s still this wide.”
“Still, isn’t this much better than before? There were at least three matches we lost by just a hair.”
“A hair? Do you have any idea how hard it is to narrow that hair’s breadth?”
Indeed. On the surface, it looked like tiny, almost imperceptible details that were hard to catch. But those details piled up, leading to that razor-thin margin of defeat. In other words, it wasn’t bad luck—it meant their opponents’ polished, refined tactics and actions were fundamentally superior.
“We sent out our team ace, Kang Jun-hyuk, and all he got was humiliation. We really need to rethink why we loaned him to the national team… If this keeps up, there’s no need to cooperate with them anymore.”
With that, the front office executive stormed out.
“Sigh…”
The mood was like a funeral parlor. It was inevitable—they weren’t losing to just any country, but Japan, repeatedly, with no signs of improvement. LTD, no, Korea as a whole, was sorely lacking in hunter talent.
“So, Director Yi Jin-han. You said you were going to scout the 3rd and 2nd division leagues for call-up candidates from our lower LTD teams. Any promising players down there?”
“Call-up players… Worthy call-ups…”
There were none. Yi Jin-han had scouted both the 2nd and 3rd division LTD teams, but they were just steadily performing mid-tier squads. No rookies ready for the 1st division.
Maybe contact a different team instead of LTD…
One match stuck in his mind: PER, the team that had finished dead last last season. Their tactics were definitely viable even in the 1st division.
That sword-flinging guy… Yoon Han-gyeol, was it? If we could snag him and pair him with the gravity user who drops Mana Bombers, they could serve as jokers in the 1st division league sometimes…
Anyone but Lee Chang-hyun, the winner of [Hunters, The Next Generation].
“Contacting other teams’ lower leagues would be tough, right?”
“Yeah… Probably. Front office will say leave other lower league teams to the scouts. Directors should focus on 2nd/3rd division LTD or 1st division players.”
Contacting other teams’ players was tricky mid-season. It required negotiations with their teams, and so on. Front office figured only 1st division players were worth the hassle.
“Too bad…”
“Did you spot any standout talents on other teams while watching the 2nd/3rd division games?”
“Something like that. Still, once the season ends and players are free agents, we should reach out. 1st division LTD needs more tactical variety right now.”
“True enough. Anyway, if you’re keeping an eye on them, now I’m curious too. What’s the name?”
“Lee Chang-hyun. And team PER.”
Even though they were a 3rd division team and players, Yi Jin-han was certain their names would echo frequently in higher leagues soon. And this might be jumping the gun, but…
Korea might just need someone like Lee Chang-hyun right now…
In a Korea full of ordinary, uninnovative tactics, Lee Chang-hyun wielded unique strategies and broke molds in ways that even surprised him. He felt like the hope to break Korea’s slump in the world leagues.
Sheesh… Am I really pinning hopes on 3rd division kids?
Yi Jin-han shoved aside his tangled thoughts and left the now-empty staff room.
Minamino Takumi. He was a player who had once teamed up with Lee Min-seok in the International Hunters League. That’s why Lee Min-seok knew his tendencies well.
This guy Takumi… At it again…
He never listened to others or easily acknowledged people. Quite belligerent, really. He often caused issues when onboarding new teammates, testing them like fighting cocks—charging in headfirst.
Fighting like that was fine, but the problem came when he didn’t like the opponent. He’d toy with them mockingly, humiliating them, or suddenly turn dismissive and condescending.
Lee Min-seok worried Takumi might be disappointed in Lee Chang-hyun’s skills. From a 1st division perspective, 3rd division hunters were a step down.
And objectively, Lee Chang-hyun has no shot against Takumi… Though Takumi wouldn’t think Chang-hyun could beat him either.
Basic stats would be worlds apart. Against Lee Geun-taek in the finals, there were stat debuffs and a lenient vibe, but not here.
A 1-point stat gap was noticeable; 2 points meant no chance in that area. Lee Chang-hyun likely had few edges.
Experience or skills might help, but even great skills couldn’t match Takumi’s proven international firepower. Takumi’s experience dwarfed his too.
So all Lee Min-seok could say was…
“Haha, I know. Korean, and a 3rd division one at that. I won’t go too hard. Relax.”
But his eyes gleamed with predatory light, belying the words.
The amusing part? Lee Chang-hyun didn’t flinch at Takumi’s vibe.
Well… He stood tall even before Chairman Lee Geun-taek.
It wouldn’t win him anything, but at least it was something. Hopefully, even if he got crushed, it’d be a good lesson for Lee Chang-hyun.
That’s what he hoped. For Lee Chang-hyun’s generation to shine in the Hunters League for Korea.
The arena was right there, so it didn’t take long to start. Map selection followed, where Minamino Takumi yielded pick to Lee Chang-hyun—who chose a wildly unexpected map.
Void Plaza. A pitch-black expanse like outer space, dotted with mysterious glowing ores and floating light particles. Ink-black rooms connected maze-like by dim walls. Multiple unpredictable wormholes linking unknown points.
Why this map…?
Lee Min-seok couldn’t fathom it. Rookies lacked experience with varied maps, so safe, neutral ones were ideal. Special maps had gimmicks that could decide matches based on knowledge alone. Experience was key here, yet Lee Chang-hyun picked it.
Lee Min-seok couldn’t figure him out.
Takumi felt the same.
Void Plaza? Why?
Perfect for getting lost and dying alone if you didn’t know the maze. But mastery turned it into an unbeatable fortress.
Trying to throw me off with an unfamiliar map?
Takumi dismissed it. Once the match started, focus on the game. Respect the opponent by concentrating, absolute advantage or not.
Ranged dealer vs. ranged dealer wasn’t common. They usually hung back.
Frontliners—tanks, melee dealers—did the aggressive work.
But I’d faced plenty of ranged duels.
To claim the world championship, I grinded 1v1s endlessly.
Hunters League had more than 7v7s. There were Ranking Matches for personal glory.
Unlike most ranged dealers who struggled there, I’d topped the rankings often.
Strong in 1v1s. Saying it myself feels off, but it meant top-tier adaptability.
That’s why I didn’t panic here—I could pick optimally.
And that optimal pick? Void Plaza.
Wormholes everywhere. Memorize every entrance-exit pair?
No blind spots. Perfect shooting angles.
This stage maximized me. But stats gap meant no easy win.
Sigh…
No quitting, though. I’d eaten situations like this for breakfast pre-regression.
Keep scheming to the end—that’s closest to victory. I knew it.
Steeling myself in the cold, dark space—starry with floating specks—I respawned.
Rookies might gawk, waiting. Not me. I was at a clear disadvantage.
One path to win:
Snipe first.
Overwhelming experience pinpointed wormhole routes. Strike while opponent assumed ignorance.
That was the key.
No nearby sounds—good, no close respawn. Melee would amplify stat differences brutally.
Instantly activating it:
Piercing Eye: A (S+)
Through the translucent wall, Piercing Eye spotted Takumi. Northwest, straight-line 250 meters. Far? Close? Debatable.
And…
Snipe range.
Opponent couldn’t detect it. Optimal setup.
All in on this shot…
End it fast, before he processes. Speed-blitz victory—highest odds tactic.
Lee Chang-hyun fired at the eastern wormhole wall. The bullet emerged in another void, entered another hole. Repeating, it suddenly burst from Takumi’s room wormhole—straight at him.
“…!”
A perfect blindside strike. Nothing else described it.