A Deluge of Handshakes
To some extent, virtual reality is grounded in reality. Just as those with excellent athletic reflexes and body control showcase brilliant plays inside the capsule, those who have a reputation for being decent fighters in the real world adapt to combat effortlessly from the very beginning.
Of course, there are those who have spent so much time in virtual reality that they can control their characters far better than their actual physical bodies, but they are a small minority. For most, their in-game performance does not deviate significantly from their real-world capabilities.
This was precisely why the forum was in an absolute frenzy. Users were frantically trying to guess the identity of the master who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere on Hanya's stream.
Clang! Sparks flew where our blades clashed. With the screech of scraping metal, my opponent's sword slid down the length of my katana. Naturally, I had no intention of allowing such a clumsy attack to land.
It was a wild, haphazard swing, impossible to tell if it was meant to be a thrust or a slash. There was no way I would let myself get hit by something so amateurish. I didn't even need to exert myself to dodge. Simply focusing my mind and keeping my eyes wide open was more than enough.
I had read the attack long before it arrived. As the blade slid down my own, I took a single step. Just one step back from where I stood, and the strike missed completely.
"What?!"
Perhaps they hadn't expected me to dodge so effortlessly; my opponent's eyes widened in shock as they let out a startled cry. Watching them, I clicked my tongue inwardly.
'As expected, I need better opponents.'
Even the squires of the knights in my former world were stronger than this person. Originally, I had wanted to play ranked matches with Han-ah, but I couldn't because of a restriction.
Play at least 5 normal matches.
That was the minimum requirement set by the Asteria developers before a player could queue for ranked. While it was a lenient condition in many ways, to the current me, it was nothing but a chore. It was also the sole reason I was currently forced to play normal matches.
The price for having a half-hearted, ambiguous attack blocked was steep. When a wild swing—devoid of any intent or technical skill—fails, it always carries a massive risk. I effortlessly sliced the throat of the opponent whose posture had crumbled.
It was a brief clash, and a swift victory. Yet, despite the easy kill, a bitter taste lingered in my mouth.
'At this rate, it's no different from smurfing.'
Smurfing—or "newbie slaughter." An act where an expert forcefully crushes beginners who cannot resist due to the massive skill gap. While it was true that I was a complete newbie experiencing Asteria for the first time today, I couldn't exactly be considered a beginner. If anything, I was an expert, perhaps even on par with the high-rankers Hanya had mentioned earlier. It was all because I had experienced Asteria not as a game, but as an actual, living world.
Some people enjoyed oppressing the weak and found amusement in it, but I wasn't particularly fond of it. I only found joy in fights where there was a sense of competition and psychological warfare. What fun was there in a fight where the opponent couldn't even put up a struggle? Just as one doesn't find joy in stepping on ants on the street, the same applied to me.
'And it's not fair to these people either.'
If someone who clearly didn't belong at this level got matched against them, causing them to lose helplessly without being able to do anything, how could the game be fun for them? Far from nurturing the growing sprouts, it was no different from trampling them. I was essentially acting as a "newbie crusher," as they called it in games. Although it was entirely unintentional, my conscience pricked sharply.
Still, I couldn't just stop playing, and there was no other way. I had to finish the remaining normal matches as quickly as possible and climb up to ranked. I figured that once I started playing ranked, my tier would rise, and I would eventually meet opponents suited to my skill level.
Aside from that, appearing on Hanya's stream was going incredibly smoothly. We played normal matches together, but for some reason, once the game started, she seemed more focused on filming me than actually playing. She kept saying that this kind of overwhelming display was a massive hit for the stream, and that there was bound to be a huge demand for it. When she gave me a thumbs-up, I could only offer an awkward smile.
'Because I absolutely need the money.'
To prepare for when I leave the orphanage, and to buy a capsule afterward. Even putting those reasons aside, the more money, the better. After all, various resources are essential for a person to survive.
In that sense, I subtly turned my gaze toward Hanya, who had practically become my financial sponsor. I wanted to see if she was still diligently filming me. But contrary to my expectations, she wasn't filming. She seemed to have the camera pointed in my direction, but her gaze was fixed elsewhere, suggesting she wasn't completely absorbed in it like before. Her mouth was slightly open, and her eyes were vacant, looking somewhat dazed.
It was a rather funny face, but why would she suddenly make such an expression? Did something happen?
The game was already heavily in our favor anyway, and it would take some time for the enemy team to respawn and reach my location. Taking advantage of the brief lull, I approached Hanya, who still wore that foolish expression, and spoke.
"Hanya."
"Ye-yes?!"
"Did something happen? Your expression is..."
I wondered if something bad had occurred. I was genuinely worried. It was a situation anyone could easily deduce. For someone to suddenly look so out of it, a major incident must have occurred. When I asked about her expression, Hanya seemed to snap out of it and composed her face. Then, clearing her throat with a soft cough, she whispered to me in a low voice.
"By any chance, do you still have my stream open?"
"No, I closed it earlier because I thought it would be distracting while playing."
"...Could you try opening it again?"
"Right now?"
I was doubtful, but Hanya must have a reason for asking. Since we had plenty of time, I clicked the link I had received earlier and accessed Hanya's stream.
"...?"
And there, I was greeted by it.
A chat window that was suspiciously obsessed with me.