The Experience of Victory
In a battle between hunters, what was the most important factor? Positional matchups? Sure, they mattered. But what if they were the same position?
Even among the same positions, the dynamics could shift dramatically depending on what that position was. In a melee dealer versus melee dealer fight, technique and stats would dominate. It was a straightforward exchange of blows where neither side would likely end it in one hit.
But what about ranged dealer versus ranged dealer? Interestingly, while technique could still create a massive advantage, stats played a far smaller role compared to melee clashes. Their only real defense was mana gear. And without mana shields from specialized equipment, they had virtually no protection. A solid hit could be fatal for either side.
That was exactly what Lee Chang-hyun had targeted.
If Takumi had been a melee dealer, a tank, or even a supporter, a head-on fight might have been impossible to win. But right now? Even in a direct confrontation, Lee Chang-hyun had a real shot.
The walls are all down by now... but his fighting spirit is still alive.
Takumi was subtly aware of it too. Ranged dealer duels were always full of variables.
But.
This ends here.
He didn't know Lee Chang-hyun's exact skills, but in ranged dealer fights, the keys were "pinpoint accuracy" and "evasion agility." Takumi excelled at both—especially agility, thanks to his Swiftness: A, which was untouchable.
Even in sudden crises, he could activate its active skill for two near-teleport dashes.
With his calculations complete, Takumi struck first.
The moment the walls crumbled, he rolled left from his blind spot, away from Lee Chang-hyun's line of fire. At the same time, he unleashed a rapid volley from his pre-loaded crossbow.
Whoosh. Thwip!
Just in case bullets came flying, he rolled fast to obscure himself, blocking the wormhole with a mana shield and ducking behind cover.
It was precise shooting, incredibly fast... but.
Interesting... dodging that.
From the blind spot, it had looked like Lee Chang-hyun was aiming elsewhere... yet he'd backpedaled just in time.
Luck?
He hadn't seen exactly why, but it was suspicious enough. Lee Chang-hyun hadn't seemed focused on him at all.
Takumi didn't panic, though. He had experience. Stellar results in Japan's massive Hunter League. One-on-one ranked matches against other ranged dealers. Endless crises overcome.
Even on an unfamiliar map, that experience kept him calm, no matter how things deviated from plan.
And once more.
Lee Chang-hyun was peeking at the wormhole across from him, still unaware of his position. Takumi leaned out from cover to fire his crossbow again—
Bang!
Lee Chang-hyun, scanning the opposite side, fired several shots at odd angles into a cluster of wormholes. Somehow, the bullets connected, and vibrations rippled through Takumi's cover wormhole and a few others. Before he knew it, one pierced his chest.
Before his regression, in an interview, Lee Chang-hyun had faced this question:
"Player Lee Chang-hyun, you're still racking up legendary records. In your opinion, what's the most important thing to becoming a great player?"
No need to think.
"Experience."
"Experience?"
The caster's eyes widened in surprise. After all, every player built experience.
Lee Chang-hyun, anticipating that, added, "More precisely, the experience of victory."
The more victories piled up, the more your personal victory formula solidified. You learned to steer any situation toward winning. Once, twice, three times. With each one, victory became easier—as long as you stuck to your formula.
And Lee Chang-hyun, right up to his final season—before his team plummeted to the bottom, and even after—had held onto the "sense of victory" more sharply than anyone.
***
Exiting to the player lounge, Takumi reviewed the full-map replay and shivered.
From the initial wormhole sniper shot to the moment every wall in Void Plaza crumbled and he died—it all felt premeditated.
Was everything part of the plan...?
An overwhelming veteran savvy, unthinkable for a 3rd Division rookie. He could feel the steady chokehold of experience.
The first sniper was pure instant-kill intent. But even its failure was buildup.
Then, when he'd shattered all the walls for a frontal clash—or so he thought—that's when Lee Chang-hyun seemed to know his position.
Even dodging the first crossbow volley 'by luck' was calculated.
Pretending ignorance, leaving an opening, buying time.
And that time was for...
The finale: bullets flying from wormholes in every direction simultaneously.
Calculation... he needed time to calculate. Assuming I'd shield nearby wormholes after the miss, he targeted the ones I ignored...
His shielded cover wormhole and three nearby ones, plus others from blind angles—all vibrated as bullets emerged. He couldn't shield every hole, so he became Swiss cheese.
Realizing it all, Takumi slumped, strength draining away.
"Fucking monster."
It felt inhuman. To land those shots, Lee Chang-hyun had to know every wormhole connection, calculate angles precisely, and predict movement—not just position, but trajectory while rolling.
Far too seasoned for a rookie. He couldn't help but chuckle bitterly.
Moments later, Lee Min-seok entered the lounge.
"What the hell was that match?"
Had he failed to track the tactics? Missed a key moment? Despite Takumi's loss, Lee Min-seok grilled him eagerly.
But with his energy sapped, Takumi had no patience to recount Lee Chang-hyun's thought process.
"What else? You brought a monster."
Lee Min-seok was stunned by Takumi's subtle acknowledgment.
Beating Takumi wasn't luck... real skill.
"No idea how long till he hits the international league... but once he does, he might build a massive fandom like Ethan's world league fans."
Takumi grinned. Unlike during Korea's national team matches, he looked genuinely pleased.
Of course, he wasn't complete. His pinpoint, gap-exploiting sniping lacked raw power. Against high-defense or regen foes, he'd struggle.
In a team fight, Takumi's destructive force would shine brighter.
But he's still growing...
A fresh 3rd Division pro beating Takumi through technique, calculation, and veteran tactics? His potential was limitless.
And it wasn't just him. Across international leagues, only one hunter used guns: Britain's "Ethan." Raw mana-fueled destruction over finesse—polar opposite to Lee Chang-hyun. Their clash would be epic.
***
Honestly, this game might've looked favorable to Takumi on paper—stats, skills—but I never doubted winning.
After all... before regression, I grinded 1v1 ranked matches hardest during tough times.
Matchup dynamics by formation, map quirks, gimmicks—I had them memorized cold.
Experience alone made losing to Takumi impossible.
What was fun, though, was Takumi's wall-shattering power.
Guys like that are rare...
Ranged dealers usually weakened mana-charged shots mid-flight. Not Takumi—two hits crumbled anything like tank shells.
Having that in a team would simplify tactics; formations be damned, just evade.
Couldn't recruit a Japanese player, but damn, tempting.
PER's bomber tactics worked, but more variety and roster depth were needed.
Musing on team matters as I exited, I spotted an unfamiliar player in the lounge—one from Korea's rep team earlier?
Jin Kyung-tae or something?
Not chatting, just lurking. Only Lee Min-seok entertained him.
"Uh... you're here? Watched the match."
Lee Min-seok sounded awkward.
Makes sense... this one highlighted experience differently from before.
Takumi's reaction was funnier. He approached naturally, shook hands, clapped shoulders—welcoming warmly. Loss seemed enjoyable.
His words confirmed it.
"Fun match. You hit hard?"
"You hit decent..." Hadn't heard that in ages. Music to my ears.
"You too. Never imagined a crossbow shattering every wall."
Takumi beamed, unhidden delight. Victory over defeat.
"You planned it all from that first miss, right? What if it whiffed."
He eyed me slyly, smirking.
"Thought ahead, yeah—but shattering everything? A beat slower, and I'd be skewered. I was shocked."
But... mid-convo with Takumi, why was that guy—stuck awkwardly by Lee Min-seok—still hanging? Business here?
Felt bad ignoring him, so I asked.
"Hey, you...?"
"Ah... uh! Jin Kyung-tae. Yeah... great match. I gotta go—next schedule!"
He mumbled a goodbye and bolted. Face beet red.
Wonder what his deal was?