Chapter 125
Chapter 125
Chapter 125: Platinum National Team (3)
Translation: godtl
"K-Kim Si-mun?!"
"When did he get here?!"
The gazes pouring toward him were thick with astonishment.
Among them, two particularly sharp stares stood out.
One of them.
"Hey, what did you just say?"
A man with a short sports-cut hairstyle.
Jeong Ha-jun stepped forward with a hardened expression.
"Did I hear you right? Did you just call us a 'weak team'? Were those words directed at us?"
"You heard correctly. But why are you asking again?"
With genuinely innocent-looking eyes, Si-mun tilted his head as if he couldn't understand.
"You little—!"
Jeong Ha-jun's face instantly flushed red.
"You crawled your way in here riding the Association's coattails, and now you're spouting nonsense at us?!"
"Riding the Association's coattails?"
Si-mun tilted his head again.
Then—
"Ah."
So that's how it was.
Letting out a small sigh, Si-mun slowly nodded.
'It seems my joining the Special Match wasn't discussed with the players beforehand.'
Si-mun hadn't participated in the National Team Selection Tournament.
For someone like him to join the Special Match, the Reserve Personnel Addition Option was mandatory.
Naturally, the existing national team would have to bear the full brunt of the opposing team's additional option.
'So whether they win or lose, they're saying they'll be the ones taking the fall.'
Having arrived at the training ground midway, Si-mun hadn't heard the entire conversation.
But the word "riding the Association's coattails" made everything click.
'How very like my uncle.'
The Iron Wood King, Kim Mu-yeol.
True to his autocratic nature, he had sent only a routine notification—without a shred of prior agreement—that Player Kim Si-mun would be joining as a reserve member.
Naturally, for players who had been selected through the tournament and spent months building teamwork, resentment was inevitable.
"Now that you've figured it out, why don't you get lost? Don't be a nuisance trying to ride the national team's coattails."
But regardless of that—
"You seem to be misunderstanding something."
Some things needed to be set straight.
"I didn't join the Special Match because I wanted to."
"What did you say?"
A dumbfounded voice.
This time, it wasn't the sports-cut man Jeong Ha-jun.
"Excuse me, Mr. Kim Si-mun. What kind of nonsense is that?"
It was a woman with sharply upturned eyes.
"How can you participate in the Special Match if you don't even want to? What, did the Association beg you on their knees to join or something?"
Arms crossed, she spoke in a tone dripping with disbelief.
At Choi Hyo-yeon's words, Si-mun nodded.
"The Association President personally requested it. That's why I'm here."
"...Unbelievable!"
"Wow! This guy's properly insane."
Choi Hyo-yeon and Jeong Ha-jun both let out hollow laughs.
The other players who had been sneering along with Lee Sang-min reacted similarly.
"Hey, Mr. Kim Si-mun. Even for you, dragging the Association President into this is going too far, don't you think?"
The Association President begged someone who just reached Platinum to join the Special Match?
The legendary Iron Wood King himself?
But Si-mun answered without the slightest waver.
"Why would I lie about something like this?"
"Ahh, whatever."
Jeong Ha-jun waved his hand dismissively, as if he didn't even want to continue the conversation.
"You don't need to spin such tall tales—we already know how special you are."
He approached Si-mun while waving his hand vaguely.
"We saw your Platinum Debut Match too. Yeah, we admit it. You were insane, completely fucking insane. But here's the thing—"
Sssss.
A scorching current of air, thick with midsummer humidity, brushed against Si-mun's skin.
It wasn't just his imagination.
"The Special Match is different. It's not a place where some solo-play brat can run wild as he pleases!"
Jeong Ha-jun glared threateningly.
A Platinum-ranked aura was genuinely radiating from him.
"She's right. We acknowledge your skills, but that was just a Debut Match, wasn't it?"
Choi Hyo-yeon's sharp voice blended into the oppressive atmosphere.
"Ha-jun oppa and I have done Platinum Debut Matches too. Of course, we didn't get overwhelming results like you, but we still know the difference between a Debut Match and a national team Special Match."
We are your seniors, you know?
She added those words while keeping her arms crossed, stepping beside Jeong Ha-jun.
"Listen, the Special Match is on a whole different level from running wild in a Debut Match with your summons. Got it? It's like the difference between a militia and an actual army!"
"Perfect analogy."
As if pleased by the comparison.
Jeong Ha-jun nodded with deep satisfaction.
"Starting to get it now? No matter how good you are, team battles are a different beast."
The aura he had been emitting grew even more intense.
"So get lost. Or we'll boycott you right here and now."
Si-mun shook his head with a faint smile.
'This is absurd.'
He was well aware of how Arenas worked in team battles.
Unlike the small-scale formations common in the Bronze-Silver-Gold tiers,
Platinum-rank Arenas introduced large-scale combat modes like Siege Warfare.
And since the National Tournament involved top-tier players en masse,
syncing team compositions with the match types was absolutely critical.
Wasn't that why joint training started immediately after the qualifiers?
But—
'This isn't just about tactics. They care more about saving face than winning.'
This went beyond mere differences in team battle dynamics.
"I understand your dissatisfaction with my participation, especially since an Option Addition Ticket had to be used."
The sudden Association mandate to use an Option Addition Ticket—
forcing them to include someone who hadn't even gone through qualifiers—
was bound to ruffle feathers.
But.
"Is that really why you're doing this?"
"What?"
"From where I stand, it doesn't look like you're upset about the Option Addition Ticket being used for a parachute recruit... but rather that my presence might expose your incompetence."
"Wh—what kind of bullshit is that?!"Ha-jun immediately barked.
"Honestly! This is ridiculous! Listen here, Kim Si-mun. Are you done?"Hyo-yeon snapped, fanning her hand aggressively as she glared at him.
Si-mun chuckled and continued,
"Am I wrong? Sure, the Option Addition Ticket makes an already tough match even harder, but isn't the real issue that you're scared I might win despite it?"
The Korean team was already considered weak in the Special Match.
Even if they lost,
the public's anger wouldn't be directed at the "always-underperforming Platinum national team,"
but at the "Diamond national team" that failed to secure a spot in the main event—the so-called "national disgrace."
But.
"You're in a no-lose situation where you won't get blamed either way. Yet here comes some nobody, stirring up hype for the Special Match, and suddenly you're terrified. What if we actually win? What does that make you—the ones who've been failing for years?"
"......"
"......"
Ha-jun and Hyo-yeon fell silent.
The other players, who had been glaring at Si-mun in solidarity, were no different.
Si-mun smirked.
"Shirking responsibility, defeatist attitudes... I hate to say this right off the bat, but no wonder you're stuck in Platinum."
Then, as a finishing blow:
"Still, I'll give you credit for having enough sense as Platinums to choose a boycott instead of picking a fight with me."
The moment those words landed—
"You little shit—!"
"Are you out of your damn mind?!"
Whoosh—!
The simmering tension erupted into blazing fury.
And it wasn't just Ha-jun.
Hyo-yeon and the twenty-odd Platinum players all unleashed their pressure at once.
Yet Si-mun weathered it like a gentle breeze, utterly unfazed.
If anything, his composure only stoked their rage further.
"You think we're backing down because we're scared of you?!"
"Just because people hype you up, you think you're hot shit now?!"
"Fine. Let's settle this right here, you bastard!"
The enraged outcries of the national team echoed through the air.
A colosseum—if one could call it that.
The circular stone arena was vast enough to accommodate hundreds without crowding.
And at its center—
"Why are you all just standing around? The Special Match is a team battle."
A strikingly handsome man with sharp features.
"I specifically picked this map for a reason. Aren't you going to set up formations?"
Si-mun's relaxed question hung in the air.
At the forefront of the twenty-strong group, the man with the sporty haircut—
Ha-jun didn't answer. Instead, he jerked his chin at another man.
"Ji-ho, go test the waters."
"Got it, hyung."
A lightly armored man stepped forward.
Si-mun's gaze locked onto the sword at his waist.
'A rapier?'
A rapier.
Even a rough glance suggested a slender, elongated blade at least 100cm long.
Rapiers—favored by European combat specialists—weren't commonly seen in Korea.
Which made it easy for Si-mun to identify his opponent.
'Jang Ji-ho, 6th in Platinum.'
An agility-focused combat specialist.
Truthfully, in the Bronze-Silver-Gold tiers, rapier users weren't particularly threatening.
They weren't exceptionally fast, nor did they boast overwhelming destructive power.
And since rapiers required precision and finesse,
those who could wield them effectively rarely lingered in the lower ranks.
However.
"I'll go right away."
The story changes once you reach Platinum-rank.
Whoosh.
Jang Ji-ho kicks off the ground and charges forward.
The sword draw that seamlessly follows is imbued with its own subtle artistry.
Hmm.
A heat haze wraps around the slender blade.
The Sword Energy completely offsets all the weaknesses inherent to rapiers.
Noticing Si-mun's gaze fixed on the sword, the corners of Jang Ji-ho's mouth deepen.
'Will it be a slash or a thrust? Must be agonizing over it.'
With ordinary swords, most would follow up the draw with an iaijutsu strike.
That was the efficient approach.
But rapiers are different.
Given their whippy nature, rapiers can deliver lethal force whether thrusting or slashing.
Especially in one-on-one combat, they allow perfect execution of psychological warfare through forced binary choices.
Depending on the opponent's stance, you could choose your preferred line of attack.
'First continue with a slash, then—'
Almost like iaijutsu.
Jang Ji-ho seamlessly extends his sword draw.
Swish.
In response, Si-mun's body subtly leans left.
Simultaneously, Jang Ji-ho's eyes gleam.
'Got him!'
The elbow of Jang Ji-ho's sword arm suddenly jerks back.
At the same time, the rapier that had been arcing through the air straightens its blade upright.
"Die!"
The sharply poised rapier shoots straight forward.
Had it even been a full second?
In that brief moment, Jang Ji-ho's sword technique transforms from slash to thrust, piercing toward Si-mun's chest in an instant.
Then.
Snap.
A clear sound rings out.
Though he knows exactly what that sound means, Jang Ji-ho's smirk doesn't fade.
'Too late now!'
He already knows mysterious things happen whenever Si-mun flicks his fingers.
Probably something related to his traits.
But after four years battling through Platinum-rank, his thrust wasn't something that could be countered at this point.
Or so.
Jang Ji-ho thought.
Until.
Swish.
Si-mun's body defies physics, twisting to the right before impact.
"What the—!"
Jang Ji-ho's eyes bulge.
'How can a human body—!'
It's not like he's some mollusk.
As if completely disregarding the physical structure of the human body.
Si-mun's entire core, shoulders included, rotates in the exact opposite direction.
Simultaneously.
"Safe travels."
Si-mun's fist, carrying all the rotational force from the evasion, scrapes across Jang Ji-ho's chin.
Crack.
No scream is permitted.
Crunch.
Jang Ji-ho's face, now rotated 180 degrees, is a portrait of shock.
His lower jaw, twisted along with his neck, is a mangled ruin.
'This is...impossible...'
He doesn't even feel pain.
In Jang Ji-ho's fading vision signaling death.
The last thing reflected is his teammates' horrified expressions.
Thud.
Jang Ji-ho, who had been airborne, crashes outside the arena.
"......"
"......"
A heavy silence follows.
A few who regain their composure barely manage to speak.
"Holy...holy shit..."
"Ji-ho...in one hit...?"
Most of the national team can only stare in shock at Jang Ji-ho's crumpled form outside the arena.
Into their ears, a clear, feminine voice cuts through.
"Still want to do one-on-ones?"
The frozen thought processes of the national team suddenly restart.
"Th-this...!"
Jeong Ha-jun can't even form proper words.
Choi Hyo-yeon likewise grinds her teeth.
Soon.
"H-Ha-jun oppa, we absolutely can't do one-on-ones now..."
She whispers to Jeong Ha-jun in a slightly trembling voice.
Seemingly agreeing with her opinion.
Jeong Ha-jun silently nods, then glares at Kim Si-mun.
With an expression of extreme reluctance.
"...As you said, the Special Match is a team event. We'll form ranks and face you properly."
He forces the words out with difficulty.
Si-mun answers with a grin.
"Should've done that from the start. Would've saved time."
"......"
Jeong Ha-jun's face turns bright red.
As Si-mun said.
If they'd formed ranks and attacked as a team from the beginning, none of this would've happened.
Swallowing their pride to painfully switch to team combat was nothing but—
"Hyo-yeon...we...can win this...right...?"
Unless he was some low-rank player himself.
Having recognized the level of that single strike, Jeong Ha-jun whispers nervously.
"Fuck yeah! Oppa, you wanna back out now? It's too late to retreat, damn it!"
The reply comes laced with curses at the same volume.
Jeong Ha-jun quietly closes his eyes.
Right.
As Choi Hyo-yeon said.
At this point, it's too late to back out.
So then.
"Everyone, form ranks."
They have no choice but to fight with their lives on the line.
Shhk!
In an instant, the players surround Si-mun.
They all share Jeong Ha-jun's desperate resolve.
The looks they direct at Si-mun brim with venom and killing intent.
"Hmm."
As if he were merely out for a stroll.
Si-mun casually glanced at the Players surrounding him.
Taking that as their cue—
"Fire!"
Ping!
At Ha-jun's shout, arrows wreathed in heat haze came pouring down.