We Call It War
Lee Shin’s broadcasts have a unique culture all their own.
First, don’t expect any flashy reactions.
Whether someone drops a thousand won or ten million, Lee Shin’s response is always the same. “I’ll put it to good use~” That’s it. If you’re unlucky, you might not even get that.
Some viewers grumble that he’s being half-hearted, but the gentle Yongbungs are always quick to explain.
Second, consolidate your questions.
Once the live viewer count crosses five hundred thousand, the chat becomes absolute chaos. If you don’t consolidate questions, you’ll never get the answers you want.
Our representative is simply too kind—he answers every single question. Time is limited and there’s a lot people want to hear, so questions have to be organized.
And finally, this one’s actually pretty fun……
Third, watch the outfit.
You might be wondering what clothes have to do with anything, but our representative takes his concepts very seriously. What Lee Shin is wearing determines the spice level of the broadcast.
For example, if he’s lounging around in a tracksuit with half-dried hair, that day is “Mild Lee Shin.”
If he’s in a T-shirt and slacks, looking like he put in just enough effort for a boyfriend look, that’s “Maknae Lee Shin.”
Depending on the he-me-ko, the Scoville index rises accordingly. In that sense, right now……
“I seriously don’t get it. How can people be this complacent? It’s so obvious, isn’t it? Right??”
Shirt and suit perfectly fitted, watch gleaming on his wrist, skin glowing, signature damp hair styled just right—head to toe, it was the work of a true professional.
They were all dead.
It had been a while since his combat power was fully charged. Even if it was just to make up for the lack of content so far, no one could stop Lee Shin’s mouth today!
“Ha…… Sorry, I got carried away. Where was I? The secretariat? Right, the secretariat’s direction. Let me pick up from there.”
“To explain this, we first need to look at the league’s revenue structure.”
No one questioned the sudden shift to revenue. Lee Shin always taught in the simplest way possible.
“Everyone knows astronomical amounts of money flow through the Guild War League. Haha? Several trillion? It’s ridiculous. Whatever you’re imagining, it’s more than that.”
“This astronomical funding first goes entirely to the ‘Guild War Secretariat.’ After they take their cut and handle various expenses, it’s distributed to broadcasters and guilds.”
There were no exceptions. Even revenue from season passes between broadcasters and guilds passed through the secretariat’s hands first.
It was a clear declaration of their intent to stand above the law when it came to the league—an arrangement that could easily be seen as an unreasonable dictatorship. The chat was already flooded with comments calling the secretariat greedy.
That was why Lee Shin’s next words shocked everyone.
“Would you believe me if I told you the secretariat actually doesn’t make as much profit as you’d think?”
It was true.
The secretariat made far less money than expected. Considering the scale of their work, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say they were barely breaking even.
“The cost of producing and managing Popper Observers, maintaining gates, running the international matches—it all adds up. And how many leagues does each country have? Usually five: five, four, three, two, and Major League.”
“That’s just the leagues. Factor in equipment costs and all the staff involved, and it’s a miracle they’re not losing money.”
In short, the lower leagues were basically a loss for the secretariat. In smaller markets, even the Major League sometimes ran at a deficit.
Yet the secretariat continued to host leagues generously, giving opportunities to lower divisions like a tree that never stopped giving.
“Why? If they were greedy, they could amass enormous wealth. There’s no other market like this, is there? It wouldn’t be strange if an extralegal corporation was born.”
“Even so, they maintain their current stance—keeping the system running even if it means taking losses themselves.”
“Why?”
It was because of the noble will they upheld.
“‘Free humanity from the threat of gates.’ Those were the last words of Jamal Popper, founder of the Guild War League. Yes, the secretariat was established to realize that noble ideal, and it continues to this day.”
It was a story Lee Shin personally loved.
People striving to fulfill the ideals of a pioneer. How romantic was that?
It was a story most people didn’t know. Maybe even the secretariat staff themselves didn’t know it.
But it was the undeniable truth—the only truth in this world, guaranteed by Lee Shin.
“That’s why they’re pissed!”
“Think about it. The secretariat is taking losses to uphold this noble will, but what have the guilds and hunters been doing??”
Every year, the profits taken home by guilds kept rising.
And the value of hunters? No need to even mention it. Their worth skyrocketed year after year—now even billions were considered pocket change.
But something was off.
The secretariat was barely breaking even, yet these people’s wallets were getting fatter.
“The league was founded to save humanity from gates. To popularize hunters, hone their skills, and conquer more gates.”
“But what now? Are hunters even entering gates these days? Are guilds forming raid parties? No! Even during the off-season, which guilds went into high-risk gates? None!”
It was fact. Aside from Mir Guild, no Major League guild in Korea had cleared an unauthorized gate.
“The secretariat has every right to be angry. They handed out tuition, living expenses, even thick allowances so no one would feel discouraged, and what did they get? Instead of studying, everyone’s just shaking their asses?”
“Meanwhile, the secretariat is working themselves to the bone?”
Of course they’d be furious.
And this Competition Conquest Battle was the result of that fury.
“No matter how you look at it, it’s suspicious. Their market value keeps rising, but is their actual skill really keeping up? So they dropped this little taste test.”
And sure enough……
“Hahaha, it was a total mess. Forgetting that gate difficulty scales with party size—that’s one thing. Pros shouldn’t forget, but fine, whatever. They had no information left.”
“Want another example? It’s exactly the same as regular conquest battles. Our analysis team said the synchronization rate with ten years ago, five years ago, and now is 90%. Nothing’s changed at all.”
What was even more ridiculous was how they handled unexpected situations.
“They’re panicking just because someone stole from them. Are there any of you who’ve done raid content? Stealing happens all the time in raids, right? That’s correct. Position fights and stealing are normal. But these so-called pros put on that pathetic display.”
“What are pros, anyway? People who get paid to play. People who do nothing but eat and do this job. And they’re panicking! Well, if even the rankers couldn’t keep their heads straight, what more is there to say? My face was burning just watching.”
Lee Shin placed the blame squarely on the guilds.
“These bastards have zero interest in improving their hunters’ skills! Transfer fees, salaries, revenue generation, marketability—they only care about raising value. Does that make any sense?”
“Do you know what insult I heard the most on my way up here? ‘Are you raising idols instead of hunters? Are you building an entertainment agency instead of a guild?’ But look at them now. Who’s the real entertainment agency? Who’s the real idol?”
“Ah, this is pissing me off. I’m gonna grab something to drink.”
Just as Sanwang couldn’t tolerate anyone disrespecting a match, Lee Shin couldn’t tolerate anyone looking down on the world he loved.
Enraged, Lee Shin roughly shrugged off his suit jacket and stood up. Meanwhile, the chat had already exploded.
“What do you mean, used to it.”
Lee Shin returned to his seat, downed a soda in one gulp, and continued.
“We mustn’t forget—the secretariat isn’t an organization meant to fatten guilds and hunters. Their will has always been focused on the ‘gates.’”
Through the league, they create better infrastructure. Through competition, they nurture stronger hunters.
And those hunters manage the gates.
That was the virtuous cycle the secretariat had envisioned for the league—and now it had come to a halt.
Having confirmed through this Competition Conquest Battle that hunter value and skill were not proportional, the secretariat would never stay still.
“Just off the top of my head, they’ll probably increase the number of Competition Conquest Battles starting next season. They might also make clearing unauthorized gates mandatory during the off-season. Or they could add another ticket to the upper league, currently limited to only the winners.”
The chat was flooded with question marks.
It wasn’t that they didn’t understand—it was that the implications were too shocking.
Increasing Competition Conquest Battles was one thing, but forcing off-season raids on unauthorized gates or encouraging competition for upper-league tickets felt like pure fantasy.
They wanted to focus on the present rather than a headache-inducing future.
Lee Shin gave a bitter smile at the question about the current state of guilds.
“Hmm, well…… Like I said earlier, it’s already too late. What’s the point of looking at the textbook the day before the exam?”
The moment they heard about the Competition Conquest Battle, guilds should have started overhauling their squads en masse—just like Lee Shin and Mir Guild had.
“That’s why I called them pathetic. If you’re the representative of a guild, you should be sensitive to the market you’re in, but they only went as far as recruiting a few healers. They were complacent.”
“Hm? Guilds that didn’t recruit healers? Everyone, I’m talking about guilds right now. Not raid content.”
So this was the result of not actively reviewing their squads.
In less than two months, guilds were now shouldering burdens they could never have imagined.
Stamina issues were one problem, but limited talent also restricted the strategies they could use. On top of that, the arrival of Competition Conquest Battles had struck their already aching heads like a hammer.
“One wrong move and even the top-tier guilds could slide right down. One guild already proved that, didn’t they? This is a match where you have to go all out, no exceptions.”
And someone had poisoned this crucial match?
Who? The All-King!
“Our great All-King has spread a truly excellent poison. Who could have predicted he’d pull off such an aggressive mob-pulling strategy?”
“He’s become a dark hero who burns himself for the sake of league competition. Kuuuh, applause!!”
Even if Mir Guild’s guild value had taken first place, in people’s minds, the symbol of the Korean league was still Kirin Guild.
And that Kirin Guild had resorted to such ruthless methods?
Everyone would follow suit. The limits had been removed.
“Schedules are brutal, stamina is running low, and competition has intensified. In an environment where if you don’t bring someone down, you’ll be the one falling, the league’s leading figure has released poison? Then there’s only one thing left.”
Lee Shin grinned.
“Probably……”
Competition Conquest Battle, Group 3.
The man standing atop a mountain of orc corpses let out a long breath.
“Hoo…… I’m exhausted.”
A mere three hundred orcs.
Normally, it should have been an easy number, yet the man was already panting.
He wasn’t the only one. The entire raid party’s movements were noticeably sluggish.
They were still at the entrance, and it was already like this…… The vice-captain approached the man.
“Captain, how about we rest for today?”
“Already……? Is it that bad?”
“The others are one thing, but the main roster who played in the international match can’t even use their strength. You know they’ve barely had a single day off, right?”
“Tsk, I need to talk to the representative. From now on, we’re sending out Team 2 before every Competition Conquest Battle.”
So that was why Mir Guild had sent out two teams. Who could have known there would be this kind of problem?
The genius representative really lived up to the name. If their own representative had followed even half of that, they wouldn’t be in this mess……
Clicking his tongue, the man was about to order a retreat.
“Vice-captain, retreat…… Huh??”
But he never finished the sentence.
An ominous cloud of dust rose beyond the horizon.
From the front, the back, the right, the left—coming from all directions.
Soon after, grotesque roars echoed. The ground trembled with a heavy thudding sound.
And what appeared was……
Orcs. Fully armed orc legions.
“Wh-what?”
“Captain, over there!!”
The vice-captain pointed at a black werewolf. The werewolf had herded the orcs together and then melted into the shadows.
What was that? There was only one answer.
“Haemu Guild, you bastards!!”
In that instant, thousands of orcs swallowed the guild whole.
“Probably, injuries will be the deciding factor. Not just any injuries—season-ending ones.”
When personal gain was on the line, humans could be far crueler than expected.
“We call this war.”