The Sword Master's Slip
Of course, the Sword Master's statement instantly became the center of attention.
Aggressive Hunters had always drawn massive fanbases. After all, they were entertaining to watch and always gave people something to look forward to.
And in that regard, Park Gwang-seob was in a league of his own.
His dazzling versatility with dozens of different swords. His genius for creating unpredictable variables in the blink of an eye. Add in that ridiculously handsome face, and you had the birth of the league’s superstar — the Sword Master.
Perhaps it was the skyrocketing self-esteem from all that fan adoration.
Today, the Sword Master traded his blade for a keyboard and began typing with theatrical flair.
The more ripe the rice, the more it must bow its head.
The only things I believe in are my sword and my comrades.
The weak resort to cheap tricks. For a Hunter, weakness is a sin. Train harder.
#Effort #Passion #Humility #SeniorAdvice #ShutUpAndTrain
Honestly, these weren’t words that should be coming from Sword Master Park Gwang-seob.
The phrase that defined him was “The perfect ranker, except for his personality.” As that nickname suggested, no amount of brilliant skill could cover up how terrible his attitude and behavior were.
He had been caught skipping group training to play golf dozens of times. The scandals that popped up once a year had reached the point where even his fans just shrugged and said, “There he goes again.”
Still, perhaps out of concern for his own reputation, he never crossed into actual crime and maintained ironclad self-discipline. That was why fans were willing to overlook quite a bit.
But this was clearly crossing the line.
It wasn’t even a case of the pot calling the kettle black — it was more like the pot throwing stones at the kettle while standing in a glass house.
Even his own fans were muttering, “This is a bit much…”
But the world doesn’t run on logic alone. Those who already looked at the Mir Guild with jealousy weren’t about to let this slide.
#EradicateGambling #PeopleFirst #SweatOfToday
As active Hunters jumped on the bandwagon one after another and their fandoms piled on with ferocious energy, public opinion began to sway violently.
In the blink of an eye, the community was set ablaze.
Come at us! Let’s fight!
All the fans were uniting to stand against the courageous Mir Guild — or, more precisely, against the Yongbung fans.
However.
Amid all this chaos, the Yongbung fans themselves remained strangely quiet. Right now, they simply didn’t have time to waste on such riffraff.
* * *
Late that evening, a black screen flickered to life.
It was a bit funny to say a pitch-black screen had “turned on,” but that was exactly what happened. Because sound was coming through.
A moment later.
With a click and a clatter, the screen finally lit up, showing extreme close-ups of Park Su-bin and Baek Yeon-woo’s faces.
And then—
500,000 viewers.
* * *
The ‘Nertube Channel’ was one of the areas where Lee Shin had poured an enormous amount of effort.
Back in the forgotten days of the 4th Division league, right after he took over, the very first thing he touched was this channel.
He invested heavily in production, editing, and video quality. He also brought in a wide variety of content — highlight reels, variety-style shows, and more.
The channel’s motto was simple.
“We’re entering your daily life.”
They would infiltrate the fans’ everyday routines.
Flashy, glamorous videos were fine, but they also showed the team messing up, looking ridiculous, feeling down, exhausted — their honest, unfiltered selves.
Back when every other guild only uploaded highlight reels and mad movies, this was a revolutionary move.
As a result, several experts harshly criticized Lee Shin.
They said he wasn’t building a guild — he was building an entertainment company.
They told him not to turn Hunters into clowns.
But.
They did it.
They succeeded.
That was how Lee Shin saw it.
A guild producing results? That was the absolute basics. Why would anyone act like it was something special? It was as natural as eating and going to the bathroom.
Instead, you needed a different kind of competitive edge!
Entertainment? Clowning around? Why not? From the representative on down, the Mir Guild was more than happy to play the fool.
And so.
Lee Shin shook the world with the Wave Resonance Method.
He played the clown during the destruction match against Wa.
He recruited the ranker Hwarang and rebuilt the team in League 1.
He delivered an all-time great opening ceremony and opening match.
And finally, the Woongjin Dan bloomed.
90 million.
That was the current subscriber count.
·
·
For that reason, the strategy team’s daily life broadcasts were given their own separate category — the newly created Daily Life with Mir.
And the first guest for this new series was none other than Mir’s homegrown youth star.
The world-class monster that fans had raised with love — Park Su-bin.
“Hello everyone. I’m Park Su-bin. I’ve turned on the broadcast I promised!”
Puff puff!!
With a proud face that practically screamed “Look, I turned on the stream!”, Park Su-bin beamed.
It was hard to understand why he looked so proud of such a simple thing, but hidden in those short words was the unspoken meaning: ‘I worked hard, I won MVP, and I kept my promise. I’m amazing, right?!’
You couldn’t expect the same smooth broadcasting skills from Park Su-bin that Lee Shin had. This guy was a pure, unfiltered Hunter.
His broadcasting skills were far more clumsy than even the average Nertuber or streamer. That was why the fans’ role in Park Su-bin’s streams was incredibly important. Five stars!
“Yes, I ate.”
“I had tteokbokki, fried food, and sundae. We ate at Yeon-woo’s mom’s shop. It was insanely good. Yeonu Tteokbokki!”
Hosting ability was essential.
Vocabulary checks were mandatory.
Trolls were cut down instantly. Profanity? Thirty-thousand-year ban.
What a gentle breed of Yongbung fans!
Other fandoms who were constantly getting raided would probably get goosebumps seeing this, but for the Yongbung fans, this was completely normal.
After all, this was the Park Su-bin they had raised themselves.
Favorite player was one thing, but Park Su-bin was Park Su-bin.
If there was one untouchable sacred being in the Mir Guild, it wasn’t Lee God or the Mountain King — it was only Park Su-bin.
The homegrown youth star. Lee Shin’s first child. The guardian dragon god who had never been breached no matter the adversity.
The fans had truly raised this treasure with the utmost care, like gold and jade.
Three years straight of #1 uniform sales.
Three years straight of #1 merchandise sales.
Three years straight of #1 fan donations.
In fact, the loose pajamas he was wearing right now, the headband holding up his long hair, the fatigue-recovery tea, and even the mug with the Mir Guild emblem on it — all of it had been given to him by fans.
He didn’t even know what brands or luxury items were. He only wore what the fans bought him.
At this point, Park Su-bin had long since moved beyond the realm of simple affection for the fans.
The little maknae who used to run around in an oversized mink coat. He was their child.
So the fact that this kid turned on a stream during the season just to keep a promise was already enough to bring tears to their eyes. They couldn’t possibly ask anything difficult of him.
Subin, you just stand there. We’ll handle the broadcast.
However, there was one person watching this scene with a completely bizarre expression…
Baek Yeon-woo, who shared the dorm with him, was sitting on the bed watching the stream with ice-cold eyes.
Those sharp sky-blue eyes seemed to be saying:
That… is a broadcast??
“That? Yeon-woo is studying. He analyzes famous swordsmen’s plays every single day.”
“He’s both. He puts in an insane amount of effort too. He really is a genius. Our captain almost never swears, you know? But the day before yesterday when he sparred with Yeon-woo, he actually cursed. Called him a crazy bastard.”
“Don’t exaggerate. You hear it all the time too.”
“I haven’t heard it lately though.”
“You’ve been on for a while. Come here.”
“Why would I appear on your broadcast?”
“C’mon~ Let’s do it together.”
“Ugh, you sunfish. So annoying.”
Even though he scrunched up his face in annoyance, when Park Su-bin rubbed his hands together and begged, Baek Yeon-woo eventually gave in and sat down in front of the camera.
He was clearly a different breed from Park Su-bin. While Su-bin had the energetic charm of a retriever wagging its tail, Yeon-woo had a dangerous, precarious allure. If Yu Ri-ra were here, she’d probably call it a fox-like charm.
These two were complete opposites.
Yet somehow, they went together perfectly.
Park Su-bin and Baek Yeon-woo chatting softly with each other.
The flow of conversation was roughly like this: Baek Yeon-woo would scold him by calling him a sunfish, Park Su-bin would sulk, and then Baek Yeon-woo would click his tongue and listen anyway.
Did opposites really attract? Or had the fans simply put on rose-colored glasses?
Before long, the fans were completely lost in the sight, simply watching in awe.
They continued chatting about training, schedules, and matches. Eventually, they reached the controversial statement.
“Ah, I know about it too. What was it that Sword Master sunbae said again?”
“Gambling is still just gambling.”
“Yeah, that.”
And Baek Yeon-woo didn’t hold back.
“What a load of bullshit.”
“!!…… Hey. That’s a bit harsh…”
“What’s really harsh is dismissing something without even watching it properly. Isn’t that ridiculous? Who is he to call it gambling? Move! Let me say something.”
Haha, Park Su-bin scratched his head awkwardly, but he must have been genuinely upset too because he added a few blunt words of his own.
“Yeonu’s words were a bit strong, but I was pretty annoyed too. Sister Hye-jung and the noonas from Team 2 worked incredibly hard to prepare. They practically lived in the training room, eating and sleeping there.”
“They even camped out starting three days before the match.”
“Right. Especially Sister Hye-jung — she stayed up all night studying with the captain every night… Calling it gambling is just too much. She might not show it, but I’m sure she was really hurt inside…”
In reality, Lee Hye-jung wasn’t hurt at all, but the extreme F-type Park Su-bin was even empathizing with pain that didn’t exist, his eyes growing watery.
On the other hand, Baek Yeon-woo was practically baring his teeth with a low growl.
“They’re just lashing out because their ranking dropped. I really hate people like that. Why blame others for your own shortcomings? That’s such low-class behavior.”
“Blaming others is never good… The captain always says the answer lies within yourself. Looking for it in others is just mental victory.”
“Who said anything about mental victory? I get that it feels bad. Even I would’ve been pissed if I got pushed back at the last minute. But then they should’ve just complained among themselves. Why say it publicly and ruin everyone else’s mood? Isn’t that guy pretty old?”
“Uh, not that old. He’s 36.”
“That’s almost a ten-year difference from Sister Hye-jung! He’s from a completely different generation than us! And yet instead of giving good advice to his ten-years-younger juniors, he curses at them? Pathetic. Just pathetic.”
“……I guess you could see it that way.”
And so Baek Yeon-woo raged on about how the team’s older brothers and sisters had been insulted, while Park Su-bin desperately tried to hold onto the hem of his pants before he crossed the line.
But something felt off. The conversation had been strangely roundabout since earlier.
Asking about age, confirming information — no matter how you looked at it…
And astonishingly, their prediction was spot on.
“Sword Master… isn’t that just a title?”
That’s right.
Baek Yeon-woo had no idea who the Sword Master was!
“……So what did that guy do?”
‘So what did that guy do?’
It was the moment an insult that had followed the Sword Master’s entire career came flying out of Baek Yeon-woo’s mouth.