Chapter 137
Chapter 137
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 137
Chapter Title: Nemesis
Humans are creatures that learn.
For example, step in a puddle on a rainy day, and your shoes and socks get completely soaked, leaving you uncomfortable—so next time, you avoid puddles like that.
Or you start dodging opponents you can never beat, ones you only ever lose to...
Lee Jun never gave up.
He kept hurling himself at the enemy perched atop the highest peak, challenging them relentlessly even after crashing and burning time and again.
Even when the world felt brimming with mockery and ridicule aimed his way, he refused to quit.
If it doesn't break you, it's a mountain you can climb someday—with that stubborn conviction, he'd slammed into it over and over, pouring every ounce of his strength into shattering that bastard.
But before he knew it, he was unconsciously avoiding 'a certain choice.'
He wasn't even aware of it himself.
He only realized after Seol-a pointed it out.
"You're constantly avoiding that, you know."
"Ah."
It's not like he hadn't tried it.
He had, long ago.
But he'd concluded it couldn't topple Woo-seung, so the thought of trying it again had never crossed his mind.
"If you keep dodging that, you can't win. That's how games work."
But Seol-a said otherwise.
Without it, victory was impossible.
Lee Jun's eyes widened as he stared at her.
She was impossible to ignore, mentally fragile, and her antics were downright bizarre at times.
But when it came to games, no one was more trustworthy.
"Let's do it. I'll help you."
There's that saying about gaining an ally worth a thousand troops.
That was exactly how Lee Jun felt right now.
The most reliable comrade in the world—one who equaled a thousand armies on her own.
For some reason, he truly believed this would work.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 📢 Streamer Notice [Taking a long hiatus due to personal reasons.] [I'll let you know once the return schedule is set.] — Anonymous [If you don't stream today, shit your pants on Line 1] — Reply [I'm on Line 1—can you please shit on Line 2 instead?] — Desperate Fan [I'm sorry, I won't spam praise chats anymore, won't accuse you of colluding with guys or fill with hate—I'll only send good chats if you just come back, please don't abandon us] — Reply [Just die already] — Orphaned Viewer [Mom... you're really coming back, right...?] — Reply [Who's your mom?] — Reply [Truly became a cyber orphan] — Reply [First-ever abandoned puppy fandom lololololol] Reading the comments on the notice made even Seol-a feel a pang of conscience.
Was the reason for her long hiatus something that absolutely had to be hidden?
Thinking about it, maybe fifty-fifty.
Nothing she couldn't say outright, but better left unsaid.
The kind of reason most people would never guess—something incredibly hard to predict.
"Guten Appetit!"
"Danke, danke."
Seol-a was in Munich, Germany right now.
The restaurant had a sleek interior, and the waiter was overly friendly toward her.
And beyond that excessively friendly waiter, countless gazes were fixed on Seol-a, refusing to budge.
'They're staring way too much... Just eat...'
The people scrutinizing Seol-a's face were a few foreigners and quite a few Koreans.
Seol-a was overseas on an expedition with over a dozen guys.
The reason she was here? To help Lee Jun practice for the World Championship.
She wanted to at least partially repay the psychological debt from the stalker incident.
But in Teamfight Arena—a game with "team" right in the name—one-on-one practice was nearly meaningless.
She needed four practice partners. Pro-level ones, or it wouldn't count.
That's where MIST AIR stepped in.
A mid-to-lower tier team that regrettably skipped Worlds and hadn't achieved much domestically.
To be precise, Seol-a was the one who muscled in.
MA had planned to scrim alongside TP anyway.
The two teams shared a close bond, and MA readily agreed to help with TP's practice.
Seol-a inserted herself into the mix.
Naturally, MA's flight to Europe came from the team's budget—it wasn't something for outsiders to just barge into.
But Seol-a was special. The supreme amateur with overwhelming skill and star power. After tangled interests and negotiations, she ended up traveling with MIST AIR.
Of course, given Seol-a's severe allergy to strangers, her free advocate handled most of the talks.
"Sis, you cold? Want me to grab your coat?"
'Treated like a baby again.'
I can dress myself when it's cold, you know.
But Seol-a couldn't grumble—she was the 'social misfit who dragged her little sister to Europe because she can't talk to people properly.'
And the MIST AIR members? They'd hit the jackpot with two beauties duplicated.
A European trip with gorgeous women—far too lavish for a team cut before Worlds entry.
'We'll make it big next season for sure.'
Infinite gratitude swelled in the MA members' hearts.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Korea's power was formidable.
Top teams from Europe, North America, Asia, and beyond gathered, all dreaming of World Championship glory. Yet before ASC—the esports anomaly with a career of 'winning every tournament entered,' a calamity, an absolute ruler—they all crumbled to dust.
Team Proud, 'lucky' enough to land on the opposite side of the bracket.
—"Here we meet again! Ascend versus their nemesis, Team Proud!"
The casters hyped it as if only TP could challenge ASC, but most finals viewers naturally predicted an Ascend victory.
No matter how close it got, only results remained.
ASC: undefeated. Head-to-head vs. Team Proud: swept.
Plus, at this Worlds, ASC had stormed to finals with overwhelming dominance, while Team Proud squeaked through with creaky play, nail-biters, even a 5-game loss-loss-win-win-win marathon—reeking of barely scraping by.
Thus, out of a hundred people, ninety-nine picked Ascend. Game one began.
—"Whoa! A ban-pick Team Proud's never shown all year?"
—"Joker pick right out the gate in game one! They're going for broke from the start!"
—"Can't stick to the usual! Time to show something new!"
—"A comp they haven't even tried up to quarters! Can't wait to see the prep work!"
💬 Broadcast Chat Explosion — Chat <Solo Queue Alert! Solo Queue Alert! Solo Queue Alert! Solo Queue Alert! Solo Queue Alert!> — Chat <Swordfiend in a tourney?> — Chat <These madlads lolololol> — Chat <Breaking) Pro 2nd place keeps runner-upping and loses it> — Chat <Can't go head-on or they get smashed, no choice> — Chat <Good try award!> — Chat <Finals gonna be boring af, 3-0 sweep incoming> Team Proud had always prioritized perfect harmony among their five.
Lee Jun had thought: I'm no genius like Seol-a or Woo-seung, so if I work hard, it has to be teamplay.
He'd honed it to the extreme.
But they lost every time.
Each defeat, he'd tell himself: Not enough yet.
Effort after effort after endless effort—and still, defeat.
Then Seol-a told him:
Don't run away.
You can't win if you dodge the direct clash.
Stop obsessing over 5v5.
Beat Jeon Woo-seung yourself.
The Swordfiend was universally panned as garbage.
Monstrous single-target damage, sustained DPS so absurd it was nicknamed "nonstop barrage"—but that was it.
Paper-thin health, zero CC, no AoE, pathetic utility. One mistake, and no recovery— a hero with no safety net.
In 5v5s, a mere splash from an AoE dropped it instantly, not even worth targeting.
Pick it in ranked? Troll accusations galore.
Its sole merit: Fun for stomping low tiers far below your skill.
But Team Proud built around it: all four others purely supporting the Swordfiend.
An extreme 1-carry, 4-support all-in comp.
The infamous "prince combo"—that was Team Proud's pick.
Here, the other four's synergy mattered, sure—but ultimately, it all hinged on one player's skill, focus, judgment.
Everything rested on Lee Jun's shoulders.
Looking back, he really had been running.
Lee Jun feared Woo-seung.
Convinced he couldn't win one-on-one.
So he'd fixated on teamplay.
But reviewing every loss, they always failed to contain that one protruding thorn.
In ASC, only Jeon Woo-seung's name rang out; he alone was treated like the star.
Everyone had seen it.
That team had one hero.
And Seol-a shoved Lee Jun forward.
Stop running. Smash that hero's skull.