Viral Prelims and the Arena Ignites
Just as the highlight reels were kicking off across broadcasters, each station uploaded full versions of the preliminary matches to their homepages, split into multiple files.
With so much buzz, the news spread like wildfire.
In the Illusion homepage chat room, players were sharing info left and right.
Not just Illusion players—even non-gamers cracked open their wallets to binge the prelims.
The files were split into tons of clips, and each broadcaster's footage was totally different, so watching everything ran into tens of thousands of won. But for working adults, it was pocket change.
With hours of content across so many groups, folks figured they'd have plenty to kill time with—no boredom for days.
That was more than enough for them.
"Ugh, pricey!"
Of course, for students, it stung a bit more.
"Hey, you watching too, right?"
"Duh!"
"Pool our cash then."
"Yeah?"
Simple fix.
"Me too!"
"Count me in!"
Friends chipped in for downloads, then huddled up to watch together.
"Where to start?"
"How 'bout this one?"
"MVB?"
"Who's in that?"
"Dunno."
"Just start with Dark?"
"Idiot, Dark's a top contender."
"True."
"Gonna be flashy as hell."
"Probably."
"Watch the flashy stuff first—saves the boring bits for later. Build up to the hype so you don't bail early."
"Damn, smart take. Use that brain for studying, dude."
"Studying's not my vibe."
"Fine, MVB broadcast first!"
"Deal!"
That's where they saw Baekrang's massacre.
"Holy crap."
"This guy's winning it all."
"Maybe..."
"Super flashy though."
"Wrong pick— this is straight fire!"
Then they watched Baekrang vs. Mu-hyuk.
"......"
And confirmed Mu-hyuk's victory.
"Insane."
"Gotta clip this and post on my SNS."
"Me too!"
SNS reactions poured in instantly.
Mu-hyuk's name started buzzing as a top pick.
Meanwhile.
Baekrang, eliminated from prelims, logged out and sought his master.
"Why so early? Wasn't there a tournament?"
"I lost, Master."
The old man with snow-white beard looked shocked.
"You?"
"Yes."
"This quick?"
"Dropped in prelims."
"Then why the smile?"
"It was thrilling."
"Ho ho."
Baekrang's eyes burned fierce.
"Different style, but he had his own strength. Virtual or not, my arrogance led to that slip—but my heart raced like it hasn't in ages."
"Good sign."
"So, one request."
"Heh, craving tougher training, eh?"
"Yes."
"Could be dangerous."
"I'll handle it."
The old man pondered.
"If you're set on it..."
He nodded reluctantly.
"Approved."
"Thank you, Master."
"When to start?"
"Now."
"Good. Follow me."
Baekrang trailed his master.
For training to grow even stronger.
Back home, Mu-hyuk logged straight into Illusion.
7:25 p.m.
Thirty-five minutes till Round 1 of the main tournament.
Sung Min-woo?
Scanning around, Yerin caught his eye.
"You're here."
"Yeah, took it easy getting on."
Seeing her cleared his head of distractions.
"Dinner good?"
"Yep. You, Yerin?"
"Same. But 'Yerin-nim' feels weird now. How old are you?"
"Age?"
"Yeah, I'm 24."
"Ah, 30."
"Oppa then! Oppa cool?"
His heart thudded.
"Uh, well..."
"No?"
"Y-yeah, fine."
"Speak casual too, Oppa."
"Ahem, sure...?"
"Yeah, way more comfy."
Mu-hyuk nodded at her bright smile.
Feels... nice.
Face itched a bit.
And kinda awkward.
"Whew."
Perfect timing—Sung Min-woo logged in.
Mu-hyuk relaxed like he'd spotted a lifeline.
"Here?"
"Yeah, not late?"
"Not yet."
"Yerin-nim too. Dinner hit the spot?"
"Yep."
"What group you in?"
"A."
"A? Mu-hyuk's B."
They chatted. But their formal speech grated on him.
Weird.
Never told Sung Min-woo to drop honorifics. Other players murmured, tilting heads.
"Here."
The host appeared.
Silence fell.
"Assuming all are present, groups first before Round 1 rules. A and B: Group 1. C and D: Group 2. E and F: Group 3. Two letters make a group—memorize yours."
Players counted fingers.
"F, so Group 3?"
"I'm Group 1."
"Me too."
Yerin smiled at Mu-hyuk.
"Each group: 192 players."
Exactly 96 per letter group from prelims. Doubled: 192.
Still a crowd.
Even after prelims cut 500 to 4 per group.
"Groups noted. Now, Round 1. Your group shares one arena. Circle up around it first. Then, on examiner's call, first-come volunteers step up. Challenger must beat three in a row. Win all three: pass. Lose once: fail. Challenger who beats arena holder gets one win, needs two more. Each player picks one: hold arena or challenge. One shot only."
No one spoke post-explanation. Brains churning.
Sung Min-woo whispered low.
"Pretty complex."
"Nah."
"Huh?"
"Hop up, beat three straight."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yep."
Host continued.
"Key point: 32 passers per group."
Silence hit.
"32 per group?"
"Tight."
"Hm, weeds out the meh ones."
"Whatever."
"Yeah, I'm good."
"Same."
Most fixated on 32. Mu-hyuk crunched numbers.
Four groups.
Post-Round 1: exactly 128 survivors.
128 screams tournament.
Perfect: 128 to 64 to 32 to 16 to 8 to 4 to 2.
Then 1.
Round 2 tournament odds skyrocketed.
"Questions?"
Hands up.
"Speak."
"Lose challenge, out?"
"Yes, one chance."
"32 passers?"
"Yes."
"If chances used but short on passers?"
"Repeat test, exclude passers."
"Then..."
More Qs flew.
"Think that's enough. More?"
"How many rounds?"
"Can't say."
"......"
"Anyone?"
No hands.
"None. Follow me."
Four arenas appeared.
"Group 1 to Arena 1, Group 2 to 2, Group 3 to 3—obvious, right?"
Players hustled.
"Catch ya post-round."
"Yeah."
"Yerin-nim, fighting!"
"SteelFist-nim too. Oppa, let's go."
"Uh, yeah."
Sung Min-woo froze.
"W-wait!"
"What?"
"Y-you two!"
"Huh?"
"Casual speech? When?!"
"Before you logged."
"Holy... crap."
"Late, bye."
"Uh uh..."
Mu-hyuk and Yerin headed to 1; Sung Min-woo snapped to, dashed to 3.
Arena center: middle-aged NPC. Examiner, probably.
"All here? Sit."
Courteous but heavy tone.
Plus NPC.
Players still outmatched, so they obeyed.
Yerin sat right. Someone left—no glance. Then coughs nonstop.
"Ahem. Hem."
He turned.
"Ah?"
Puppeteer Adeon.
"Mind if I sit?"
"Whatever."
"You seemed busy. Didn't wanna bug."
Yerin peeked.
"Friend, Oppa?"
"Nah, prelim bump-in. Ignore."
Adeon grinned sheepish.
"Yeah, ignore me."
"How? Fate and all—get along!"
"Sweet heart too."
"Hehe."
"That beauty..."
Mu-hyuk leaned to Adeon. Out of Yerin's ear, in his.
"Quiet."
"R-right."
"Huh? Question?"
"Nah, nothing."
Adeon shook head, wistful.
"Yeah?"
"Yep."
Focused on examiner amid quiet.
"Explanation done. Now..."
Real start.
"Group 1 Round 1 begins! First to arena?"
A few stood.
"Quickest. Up."
"Yes!"
"Name."
"Kagel!"
Longsword and shield user.
"Challengers to foreigner Kagel..."
One jumped up before finish.
"I challenge!"
"Ahem, good. Name?"
"OnePunch!"
"Noted. Simple: pushed out loses, combat incap loses, surrender loses. Wounds heal on exit. Fatal? Auto-push. Note it. Foreigner Kagel vs. Foreigner OnePunch—begin!"
Examiner stepped off.
Kagel and OnePunch faced off, weapons out.
"Heh, easy mode!"
OnePunch swung greatsword.
Wind pressure blasted.
Kagel lightly shield-blocked, closed gap.
"Oh ho!"
OnePunch slammed sword down.
BOOM!
Explosion cracked ground near Kagel. Spikes erupted, stabbing.
HP drop shocked Kagel into Charge, dodging fast.
OnePunch anticipated, charged.
"Waited for this!"
Greatsword arced at Kagel's head.
Kagel's eyes flashed.
Acceleration Slash!
Sword gleamed, smacked greatsword aside repeatedly. It veered off; OnePunch stumbled.
Kagel exploited, skill-spammed. Most watchers gasped.
"Hup...!"
"Eh, decent."
Some chill.
"Yawn, boring."
A rare few yawned.
Peak confidence.
Mu-hyuk eyed the bored ones.