Perfect Victory in the Shinsoo Derby
The Shinsoo Derby, the ultimate showdown, the Mountain King Derby, the battle of legends—every kind of drama imaginable had been woven into that match of the century. And they had won it perfectly. They had utterly crushed the opposition with the greatest performance in league history.
The Yongbung-i let out a collective roar of pure emotion.
Starting with the integrated gallery, the front pages of every major guild’s online community flipped to the Mir emblem in perfect unison.
The banner swap had become an annual tradition. Once the Mir Guild’s dragon emblem flag was raised, the real-time search rankings from first to tenth place were instantly dominated by Mir-related terms.
But the excited Yongbung-i didn’t stop there. They stormed the streams of famous streamers and set off their victory fireworks.
Streamers who had already revealed themselves as Yongbung-i rewatched the match with their audiences, while those who weren’t were suddenly hit with aggressive recruitment drives.
All funded by generous donations.
In the middle of this relay, celebrities began coming out as Yongbung-i one after another. The most notable detail was the overwhelming percentage of female stars.
It wasn’t the celebrities’ love calls that mattered. The mere fact that people could publicly mention being a Yongbung-i or praise the Mir Guild proved that the Kirin Guild’s influence, which had permeated every corner of culture and society, was finally waning.
In other words, it marked the end of Kirin’s long dominance and the rise of Mir as the new mainstream.
Of course, a few were genuinely expressing interest in Lee Shin, but he was already receiving a love on a completely different scale from what those women could offer.
It had been a while since they last saw a parade of banners like this.
The flower path had been laid out in advance to coincide with the arrival of the raid team’s bus. After watching such an emotional match, there was no way the Yongbung-i would stay quiet. Anyone who did was definitely a spy.
“Prince Dogfish, genius fox Yeonu, Lira is a superstar, overwhelming thanks to Warlord-nim, tears for Mama Hyejung, Princess’s three hundred and five hundred, pfft!!”
“They said the slogans were submitted from the Yongbung-i Era community. Apparently they’ve been preparing for two months.”
“Good grief, it’s not like we won the championship. Why are they making such a fuss?”
“We got promoted, stayed undefeated in the first half, and took first place. That’s more than enough reason to be excited.”
“Ugh, at least copy-paste with some restraint. This is pure devotion. What would they have done if we lost?”
“I was worried too, so I asked. The fan club president… well, he’s a businessman, so his scale is no joke.”
If they lost this time, they could win in the second half. If they lost in the second half, they could win in the playoffs.
Even if they didn’t win this year, there was always next year and the year after.
There was no limit to their love, and the repayment period was eternal.
“The repayment period is eternal… I like it.”
Searching through all of world history, had any leader ever received such infinite love? As far as Lee Shin could remember, no. And if he didn’t know of one, then such a guild didn’t exist.
“The people haven’t gone home yet, have they?”
“It should be peak time right now. Are you going again?”
“Yeah. Send the raid team to the dorms. We’ll stop by for a bit.”
“Are you sure that’s okay? You didn’t sleep at all because of the strategy meeting yesterday.”
“This is how I rest.”
Even past midnight, the Mir City was still packed with moved Yongbung-i who refused to leave. Large screens installed everywhere played highlight reels while every table in every store, plus the makeshift outdoor seats, were filled to bursting with people.
“Ha, it feels like just yesterday our Subin was wearing that coat and sweeping the floor with that little waddle of his.”
“But today it was all Yeonu. The way he swung that greatsword and beat the Ten Thousand King—damn, he really tore it up today.”
“Right? Our Dogfish and Yeonu were insane.”
“…?!”
“…It’s God-nim!!”
“Haha, can I bum a drink off you guys?”
“Of course! Absolutely!!”
“You can have two, three, a hundred drinks!”
“Hehe, I’m kidding. Why would I take drinks from you? Bosses! Give everyone here a glass of draft beer on me. Actually, should we play some dominoes while we’re at it? Yeah? Let’s go??”
Lee Shin slipped into the drinking party wearing a green tracksuit, grinning shamelessly.
He was already famous among the Yongbung-i. On game days, Lee Shin had a habit of frequently appearing in Mir City.
These days, there were even fans who specifically came hoping to see him.
The reason a corner of Yeongdo had become Busan’s representative commercial district in just a few years wasn’t simply because there was a stadium and heavy investment.
It was because the Mir Guild was here, and because they could see Lee Shin.
The unpretentious Lee Shin raising his glass on the table.
“To the right! Right? Let’s gooo!!”
It was a sight previous guild leaders could never have imagined. They had been authoritarian, looking down from the very top.
But their representative was different.
He was always with them. He stayed by their side. Even after building a far greater empire than any other leader, he never floated up into the sky. He laughed together with them.
That was why the Yongbung-i loved Lee Shin so passionately.
“This is sweet! Don’t even think about going home tonight!”
After this moment, the representative was no longer someone they only saw on TV.
The changes that began with Lee Shin were transforming guild culture itself.
But where there is light, there is also darkness.
And just as with all things in this world, the brighter the light, the deeper the shadow.
Strategy, detail, psychological warfare—experts had unanimously praised every aspect of the match, but for Kirin fans, no amount of praise could soften the shock of that 3-0 shutout score.
More than anything, what irritated Kirin fans the most was that their opponent had been the Mir Guild. The Mountain King, a living legend of both Korea and the Kirin Guild, had found a new home.
The Mountain King had been fearsome to the raid team but kinder than anyone to the fans. That man should have been their hunter. Those spirits, those strategies—they should all have belonged to the Kirin.
As that regret grew, the inevitable question followed.
Of course they weren’t asking because they didn’t know. The Kirin fans would bet their entire fortunes that the person asking was just trying to stir up the Yongbung-i.
Yet the question still hurt, because even the fans themselves didn’t truly know the real reason.
For the past several years—ever since League 4—Lee Shin’s public manipulation against the Kirin Guild had been infamous. At first they dismissed his tightrope-walking provocations as the nonsense of a rookie, but eventually even the Kirin Guild had to issue serious protests.
Nevertheless, Lee Shin had persistently tormented the Kirin Guild all the way up to League 1.
The information the fans were now discussing had come out during that process.
Back then they had dismissed it as that crazy bastard running his mouth again, relying on his handsome face. But now that the situation had deteriorated this far, even the fans were starting to wonder if there was truth to it.
The public opinion train had gone straight to hell.
The Kirin Guild had lost the hearts of the people on a historic scale.
When things reached this point, naturally someone had to take responsibility.
Han Jeong-do.
It was time for him to take responsibility not as the hunter known as the Ten Thousand King, but as the representative.
“Representative, don’t you have anything to say to me?”
Inside the Kirin Guild representative’s office.
Han Jeong-do was having a private meeting with a woman. A lady with flowing red hair who exuded such elegance that one might mistake her for nobility.
It was the Flame Queen, Kim Ji-ah.
At his granddaughter’s sharp question, Han Jeong-do took a sip of tea. The ticking of the clock filled the silent office for a moment before he finally spoke.
“Is this about Jong-pil?”
“That’s one of many reasons.”
When the issue of the Mountain King’s departure rose to the surface again, several people grew uncomfortable. Kim Ji-ah was one of them.
Every fan knew that the Mountain King had noticed Kim Ji-ah’s talent when she was still a promising rookie and raised her to the ranker level.
Some even called her the Mountain King’s masterpiece.
Yet when he had been forced out—technically expelled—she had kept her mouth shut. At the time everyone had let it slide, but now that footage of their awkward hug had surfaced, the matter was being brought up again.
Kim Ji-ah spoke with a tired expression.
“You were the one who promised not to make things difficult for me regarding the teacher. Shall I repeat exactly what you said back then?”
“…”
“He has already learned everything he can. It is time for him to stand on his own. I will take responsibility for your career. All you have to do is nod. I will handle everything else. We won’t be seeing each other again anyway.”
“That’s enough, Ji-ah. You can stop now.”
“No. The more I talk about it, the angrier I get. I’m going to keep going. Just listen.”
Despite being told to stop, Kim Ji-ah ignored him completely and continued.
Just from this, it was clear that Kim Ji-ah’s relationship with Han Jeong-do was different from the one he had with the other rankers.
Only after venting for a long time did Kim Ji-ah’s face finally soften a little.
“I’m sorry. I was a bit rude, wasn’t I? I’ve been working hard to build an intelligent image while earning my degree, but this has left a stain. Please understand.”
“…I see.”
“So, what do you plan to do about this matter?”
“Don’t worry. I will hold a press conference soon and say it was my sole decision to let him go.”
“That’s a relief. Then what should I do?”
“Nothing. Just continue doing what you do best, as always.”
“Perfect. Excellent.”
Kim Ji-ah immediately switched expressions and smiled. The furious look from moments ago vanished, replaced by a pure and elegant smile. It was the “Queen” smile her fans knew so well.
“Then shall we get to the main topic?”
“Can’t this wait? I’m rather tired.”
“It’s fine. It will be short. Representative, honestly, it’s getting too much for you, isn’t it?”
“…What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
It was a one-sided question, but a lethal one.
Too much for him.
It could have referred to the raid captain’s visible decline in performance during the latter half of the match. Or it could have been about his inability as representative to control the rapidly worsening public opinion.
Either way, it was a sensitive subject.
Han Jeong-do tried to remain calm, but Kim Ji-ah smiled as if she could see right through him. Without waiting for an answer, she stood up.
“Representative. The reason my ‘grandfather’ and I chose to support you over the teacher was because of your ability. That bizarre intuition that leads to success in the most surprising ways.”
She left one final remark as she disappeared.
“That intuition isn’t what it used to be, is it?”
The door closed with a lonely click.
To Han Jeong-do, it felt like a window of opportunity closing in on him.
“That cannot happen.”
He would not be discarded.
Han Jeong-do was not dead yet.
He bit his lip hard, then picked up the phone.
“All team leaders and above, to the conference room immediately. We are deciding on the transfer market and roster reinforcements today. Get here now!!”
The greatest trading season in history had begun.