Chapter 123
Chapter 123
Chapter 123: Platinum National Team (1)
Translation: godtl
May.
A warm season, when the vitality of spring is at its peak.
One.
South Korea was not enjoying its usual leisurely May.
The Arena communities were ablaze without rest over the National Tournament qualifiers.
And it wasn't just online.
"Hey, did you watch the qualifiers?"
"Don't even mention it! It was so fucking ridiculous. How many times did they fall for the same strategy?"
"Kim Si-hyeok was honestly pitiful. No matter how hard he carried, the main team kept getting wiped."
"It's obvious the guilds were gunning for Kim Si-hyeok. They threw their strongest forces at him and just did their own thing!"
"I get there's bad blood, but have some fucking decency. Why pull that shit in the National Tournament?"
"Way to humiliate the country on an international stage~!"
Wherever you went domestically, the only topic was the national team's crushing defeat in the qualifiers.
[The Iron Rice Bowl of Main Tournament Qualification—Finally Broken?]
[Main Tournament Prospects Clouded—Virtually Eliminated?]
[The Growing Importance of the Special Match! Analyst Song Urges Securing Seed Rights]
[National Growth Buff—Will Its Streak Finally End?]
['Treason Isn't Us, It's Korea'—Japan Currently Overjoyed!]
[An All-Time Low in the National Tournament! 'We Never Knew Korea Was This Divided'—Overseas Reactions!]
Every news outlet, broadcast or online, was flooded with reports about the qualifier loss.
And then.
"Yes, I'm aware."
"That's not under my jurisdiction. The Platinum national teams are already..."
"Our Platinum national teams aren't lacking in strength either..."
"That falls entirely under the Association's authority."
A man fielding back-to-back calls.
His sharp features matched his voice as he endured over two hours of calls.
"Goddamn it!"
Finally hanging up the last call, he hurled his phone.
Crack.
A dull sound as the phone shattered pitifully.
He didn't even glance at it.
Bang!
Only after slamming his desk did he regain control of himself.
"Fucking bastards! After all the assurances that this year would be different, they still lost! And to fucking Thailand, a lower-tier team at that!"
A torrent of curses spilled out.
Thud.
Beside him stood a towering two-meter figure.
Choi Chang-wook picked up the nameplate—[Kim Mu-yeol, President of the Korea Awakened Association]—that had fallen from the desk and silently placed it back.
Kim Mu-yeol irritably pulled out an Arena-brand cigarette and lit it.
Flick. The cigarette caught fire.
Choi Chang-wook waited until Kim Mu-yeol had taken a few drags before speaking.
"The situation isn't good. Based on the qualifiers alone, elimination is certain. Without an extension right, the National Buff will be revoked the moment the tournament ends."
"Ha..."
A hollow laugh escaped with a puff of white smoke.
Kim Mu-yeol's eyes rolled once in fury before he roughly swept his bangs back.
"The National Buff—unbroken for all these years—will end during my tenure?"
Since the advent of the Galaxy Arena,
South Korea had never once failed to qualify for the National Tournament's main event.
Naturally, the National Buff—exclusive to main tournament qualifiers—had never been interrupted.
And now that record would be broken?
Under his watch, as a First Generation ranker and the current president of the Korea Awakened Association?
Kim Mu-yeol's gaze sharpened further.
"If you've reached Diamond, you should at least know how to separate personal grudges from official duties. How the fuck do you pull this shit in an international tournament!"
"Public sentiment was already quite unfavorable because of this matter."
Choi Chang-wook glanced at Kim Mu-yeol's expression before continuing.
"Setting aside the international humiliation, there's widespread criticism questioning how so-called elite guilds could openly exclude a Ranker like this."
"Hmph! As if it wasn't obvious—they're just throwing a fit because they couldn't force their own Ranker into the preliminary tournament."
The National Tournament preliminaries.
Unless a country held Seed Rights, like the U.S. or China, which guaranteed direct entry into the main event,
everyone had to compete in the preliminaries.
And to maintain some semblance of fairness, the number of Rankers allowed to participate in the preliminaries was limited to one per team.
"If they were so dissatisfied, they should've just taken first place in the National Team Selection Tournament."
Generally, the Ranker participating in the preliminaries was determined by the top performer in the Selection Tournament.
After all, placing first in the qualifiers meant you were the strongest Player among the contenders.
"But—"
Huuu—
A thick cloud of cigarette smoke, exhaled along with his frustration.
Kim Mu-yeol watched it dissipate before speaking.
"They wouldn't have pulled this shit just for that one reason. The moment Kim Si-hyeok entered the National Team Selection Tournament, first place was already as good as decided."
"Then why would they— Ah."
Perhaps something had clicked in his mind.
Choi Chang-wook didn't even finish his sentence before nodding to himself.
"It's about the Growth Buff guilds."
"Exactly."
Kim Mu-yeol also nodded slowly as he continued.
"They're throwing a tantrum because we didn't allocate them a spot in the Growth Buff guilds. Spouting nonsense about domestic guild discrimination while they're at it."
"But the Myth Guild sent one member, didn't they? And I heard Lee Yu-jeong handed over her Master position to Do-hu before joining the Seongsam Guild."
"That's exactly why they're idiots. Since when did facts ever matter to them?"
Kim Mu-yeol flicked his cigarette ash and laughed.
"Especially the old guilds that have been around since the First Generation. They've coasted on early-bird advantage, yet they refuse to admit they're incompetent."
"Well..."
Choi Chang-wook wore a bitter smile.
Time moved forward, and with it, the times changed.
And human ambition and the drive to improve naturally pushed things toward progress.
Inevitably, the old ways were left behind.
Human history had proven this time and again.
And—
"It's no coincidence that First Generation Players are retiring."
Even the so-called elite Players weren't exempt from this cycle.
Back when the Galaxy Arena first appeared—
The so-called "Age of Savagery"—
It was an era when proper equipment, strategies, techniques, and magic systems hadn't yet been established.
Everything about the Arena had to be learned through trial and error—literally, by getting beaten into shape.
But now, after years of accumulated knowledge and progress—
The First Generation Players who had survived that brutal era were few and far between.
From residual stat investments to newly released Spirit Elixirs, to diverse training systems—
New Players who debuted in this era, armed with all the accumulated Arena knowledge, were pushing them out.
But as always, there were exceptions.
Those who defied the currents of time, clinging stubbornly to their rotting thrones.
"In the end, it's the ghosts of the past holding us back."
The main culprits behind the current mess.
Most of the so-called prestigious guilds were still led by these First Generation specters.
Kim Mu-yeol chewed over his subordinate's words.
"Ghosts of the past... I get the sentiment, but it's an unpleasant way to put it. If they'd had any real skill, they wouldn't have been left behind in the first place."
Just look at him—the current Association President.
Even the top-tier Diamonds of the current generation wouldn't dare challenge him.
The same went for his loyal Golem, Choi Chang-wook.
And the same applied to active First Generation Players like Iron Blood of the Myth Guild.
"Not everyone from that era was like those fools, Chang-wook. Draw the line clearly."
"Of course. My apologies. I spoke carelessly."
Choi Chang-wook bowed deeply.
By the time he raised his head again—
"So, any direct complaints aimed our way?"
Kim Mu-yeol asked casually.
"There are. Mostly along the lines of, What the hell was the Association doing?"
"Right. Wouldn't expect anything less."
Originally, the National Team Selection Tournament was entirely under the Awakened Association's jurisdiction.
Naturally, the Association couldn't escape responsibility for conflicts between players or team coordination issues.
As his thoughts reached that point.
"Sigh... What's the solution?"
Kim Mu-yeol already knew the answer but asked anyway, as if he truly didn't want to hear it. He exhaled a deep sigh as he spoke.
"Since the main team is already confirmed to be eliminated... There's no other way but to secure seed rights through the Special Match."
Choi Chang-wook gave the answer his lord most despised hearing.
"What are our chances in the Special Match with the current representatives?"
"As you know, our country's players below Platinum are generally at a disadvantage on a large scale..."
Choi Chang-wook's voice trailed off.
Truthfully, excluding Korea's top-tier Diamond-rank and above players, the average player's level wasn't particularly high.
Bronze Silver Gold players went without saying, and even Platinum players were no different except for those perpetual Platinums called Gatekeepers.
It wasn't for nothing that Korea was called a country of elite few, a nation that produced Rankers.
"Judging solely by past data, there was no hope of securing seed rights, but..."
"Was."
And "until now."
These two phrases alone made Kim Mu-yeol instantly realize.
"Those damn fools. Once this is over, I'll crush every last one of them!"
The method he most dreaded.
And most wished to avoid.
Yet there was no other choice.
But what could he do?
He was currently the Association President of Korea's Awakened.
"Contact him."
Kim Mu-yeol pressed his temples firmly before extending his hand toward Choi Chang-wook.
"Tell him it's me."
From beyond the phone came a voice so irritating it made one grit their teeth.
Screech.
Clank.
Various metallic workshop sounds echoed.
One.
"So."
At the center of this busy laboratory stood a man on the phone.
"You're asking me to participate in the Special Match, is that it?"
No other sound reached Si-mun's ears.
Except for the icy voice from the other end.
The razor-sharp voice that normally sounded like it could cut just by hearing it now came across uncharacteristically smooth.
Like a sword without its edge.
At this astonishing change, Si-mun smirked as he replied.
"Unfortunately, those rewards hold little merit for me."
As if this was an entirely unexpected answer.
Kim Mu-yeol's flustered voice came through.
Si-mun repeated his response.
"I mean exactly what I said. The Special Match rewards offer me no real benefit."
It was true.
This wasn't about messing with his uncle Kim Mu-yeol.
'At best, the Special Match rewards would be SS-grade equipment.'
Realistically, SS-grade equipment would make even Diamond players salivate.
But for Si-mun who was crafting Mythic-grade equipment, it held zero appeal.
Rather.
'I'd be better off spending that time running the Black Smeltery Special Arena.'
Being a Hidden Quest meant guaranteed substantial rewards.
Perhaps sensing Si-mun's sincerity.
Kim Mu-yeol asked in a subdued voice.
"What I want... Well, there's nothing I particularly want from you, uncle?"
Si-mun shrugged.
Ever since consuming the DS, his uncle Kim Mu-yeol could never escape the Death Eye's control.
Not that his uncle realized—he probably still thought only those old recordings were his weakness.
Especially as a Magic Class, no?
As Kim Mu-yeol pressed on, Si-mun let out a stifled laugh.
His sharp uncle would never comprehend just how meaningless money was to him now.
Was that what annoyed him?
Kim Mu-yeol's voice gradually grew sharper, but that was all.
"Just thought of something amusing. And I genuinely don't need money, uncle."
Si-mun answered without a care.
"I'm serious. There's truly nothing I need."
Kim Mu-yeol's voice rose steadily.
But what could be done?
Material things held no real value to Si-mun.
'Unless they're offering a Special Random Box like in the Debut Match, that might be different.'
"Then I suppose I'll just have to receive Paracelsus' series again."
The conversation had reached a stalemate.
-......You insolent brat! Are you telling me to lick your feet now?!
Finally, Kim Mu-yeol lost his composure.
Just then.
-L-Lick feet...?
Another voice whispered into Si-mun's ear.
-That cold, dignified man...being forced to lick the feet of his detested nephew who's younger than him? A middle-aged man whose body and soul would be utterly stained with humiliation... Oh my! Just imagining it gives me chills!!
"......"
Thwack!
With an expressionless face, Si-mun flicked the Philosopher's Stone right in the center of its chest.
-Aaah! He used his god-tier middle finger!
Simultaneously, the Philosopher's Stone inside a nearby flask, which had been working, trembled violently.
Witnessing this pitiful spectacle, Si-mun wearily raised his shaking hand to massage his temples.
'Just who was it that claimed the Whisper of the Void drives people mad?'
The real whispers that drive people insane were something else entirely.
It was clearly a phrase coined by someone who'd never encountered a true demon.
Barely clinging to his fraying sanity, Si-mun continued speaking.
"I don't need compensation. I'll have another request for you later—we can discuss it then."
-Nonsense! Just because I granted one of your requests, do I look like your subordinate?!
"Uncle, I really don't have time to bicker with you right now."
This too was sincere.
He couldn't let that creature—more terrifying than the Void itself—indulge in further delusions.
"You haven't forgotten about the recording, have you?"
-......That matter was settled when I provided information about the Continent Guild's secret research!
"Then by that logic, my request is perfectly reasonable, isn't it? In exchange for participating in the Special Match at your request, I'm simply asking you to handle one matter for me."
-......
Kim Mu-yeol fell silent.
He knew it too.
He just didn't want to owe Si-mun anything.
The proposal Si-mun made was undeniably fair.
-If it's some absurd demand...
"Nothing of the sort. Even if I did make such a demand, you wouldn't be able to refuse, Uncle."
-Your arrogance knows no bounds! Hah... Fine. Have it your way. But if you lose the Special Match, be prepared for the consequences.
"Not scared at all, Uncle. Goodbye."
Si-mun abruptly ended the call.
-Heeeuuung...
Beyond the Philosopher's Stone that trembled with sensations indistinguishable between agony and ecstasy.
"Papa... Daddy..."
'My Si-yeon. You're all I have.'
After mentally recovering by watching Si-yeon sleeping peacefully on a bed in the corner of the lab, Si-mun stepped out.
'I wondered how to proceed after hearing Yu-jeong's information, but this works out well.'
After concluding his conversation with Choi Chang-wook, Si-mun had met with Lee Yu-jeong.
She had provided the answer to his questions about the Arena facility in Cheorwon.
'Oppa, actually there is one Arena-related facility in Cheorwon.'
When he first heard this from her, he'd been utterly shocked.
But her subsequent explanation made perfect sense.
'There's one facility belonging to Seongsam Bio.'
Seongsam Bio.
The Arena-related medical equipment production facility established by Do-hu Lee Yeong-hui.
'Until I heard from Secretary Choi, I had no idea it was an unregistered facility. Grandfather only ever told me it was a simple materials-related facility...'
Of course, Si-mun had expressed nothing but gratitude to Lee Yu-jeong.
It was exactly the kind of facility an organization like Seongsam would operate secretly.
And he couldn't bring himself to trample on the courage of this younger sister who'd shared her family's secrets despite knowing the consequences.
Most crucially.
"Chairman Lee Sun-cheol..."
The secretly constructed Seongsam Bio facility in Cheorwon was none other than a project overseen by the current head of Seongsam—Chairman Lee Sun-cheol.
'To think he'd have connections with Jong-ri Chu. Well, it's not that surprising.'
After all, he'd been close with Uncle Kim Mu-yeol since long ago.
Moreover, examining his business strategies made it clear that having no ties to Jong-ri Chu would have been more unusual.
'I'll investigate Cheorwon gradually for now.'
Before he knew it, Si-mun had walked from the lab to the living room.
"......"
He was greeted by a mountain of liquor bottles utterly incongruous with the bright daylight.
Each bottle contained lethally strong Arena-distilled liquor that would kill an ordinary person in one drink.
And beyond this sea of bottles—
"You bastards......"
A refreshingly handsome man thoroughly drunk.
"Hey, you punk, what's with 'bastards'? There's so many good curses! Motherfucker! Piece of shit! Pick something spicy! This noona gives you permission!"
"Yeah yeah! Our Man-sook curses so well. Hey, Kim Si-hyeok. Let loose properly!"
Two beauties clinking glasses together came into view.