Next Time, I Will Win

Na Jia had been dead serious about coming up with a nickname for me.

After a brief moment of contemplation, she began firing off suggestions at random.

With the rest of the team chiming in, my nickname quickly started heading in a bizarre direction.

"Since your username is 'DoNotTalkToMe'... hmm. Donot? Talkto? Talky? Doni?"

"How about 'Doni-don'? No, that sounds weird. What about 'Yorari'?"

"Where on earth did the 'rari' come from?"

"It's what's trending lately! You're so out of touch."

Why did such trends even exist?

Before I knew it, I had become someone who couldn't keep up with either the conversation or the trends.

It felt like this world was far too harsh for an introvert like me to survive in.

It might be a bit late to bring this up, but my username was meant to be taken entirely literally.

It simply meant: There is absolutely no benefit to talking to me during a game, so please refrain.

Naturally, I had no attachment to the name, nor had I ever thought of a shortened version.

To me, that username was nothing more than a tearful plea.

Because of that, I thought I wouldn't care what they called me, but...

"Isn't Yorari kind of cute?"

"Not bad, actually."

What on earth?

It only shared a single letter with my actual username.

If they were going to give me a nickname, they could at least make it something decent.

Just imagining people calling me 'Yorari' made my head spin.

If I didn't stop them now, it was going to stick for good.

I had no choice but to step in and clear things up.

"P-Please... just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠call me Nabi."

"Oh my. Is that your real name? What a pretty name."

"Yes... I'm Yu Nabi."

"Great. Nice to meet you, Miss Yu Nabi."

I was saved.

Na Jia was a highly observant person.

To be precise, she had an exceptional eye for reading people.

She was skilled at picking up on the attitudes and thoughts reflected in a person's subtlest actions.

Anyone could lie with their mouth.

However, it was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠impossible to fake one's unconscious habits.

That was why Na Jia paid far more attention to actions than words when evaluating someone.

Humans are creatures whose bodies are more honest than their mouths.

By tracking the movement of a person's gaze during a first meeting, their personality would reveal itself.

Where did they look when they spoke? Did they make proper eye contact?

Piecing these clues together inevitably laid bare the person's true nature.

This subtle ability had served as Na Jia's greatest pillar of support throughout her life.

"Enemy assassin is missing. Be careful."

"Our Warlock's positioning looks a bit dangerous."

"Chain is nearby, so it should be fine. If the assassin jumps in, how about we bait them and turn it around?"

"Sounds good. I'll get ready to cover you."

She was a woman whose personality was far too fragile compared to her striking natural beauty.

She had suffered countless wounds from the hidden malice and jealousy of others to get to where she was today.

Na Jia had been desperate to protect herself, and this keen eye for people was the survival mechanism she had forged.

For the past few years, she had never once doubted her own judgment.

This held especially true as she climbed the ladder of success as a streamer.

Whenever she had an important meeting, her intuition had always exceeded expectations.

At least, that had been the case until now.

"Nabi, could you try flanking them? Let's dive in if they overcommit."

"...Ah, yes."

Today, for the first time in a long while, Na Jia found herself doubting her own judgment.

Her most important criterion when making friends was 'harmlessness.'

Someone who wasn't aggressive toward others. Someone who, at the very least, wouldn't start trouble.

Only when she felt safe letting her guard down around someone would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she truly open her heart to them.

In that regard, Yu Nabi had passed with flying colors long ago.

Far from being fierce, she was the type to get anxious all on her own.

If one were to measure Nabi's malice, the score would go past zero and plunge straight into the negatives.

She was an incredibly rare find among the people one usually met through streaming.

Na Jia adored Nabi.

Not only was she adorable to look at, but her timid demeanor also hit Na Jia's preferences dead-on.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say she had fallen for her at first sight.

Yes, she had plenty of personal affection for Yu Nabi.

But... perhaps she should have reconsidered her as a teammate.

"Enemy tank is engaging! The assassin is likely nearby as well."

"Let's cycle some buffs onto Nabi."

"Go in now! We're ready to cover you."

"Nabi...?"

It was the first scrim of the Challengers Cup.

DoNotTalkToMe stood frozen, as if her body had locked up.

It was an unbelievable sight for a Berserker who had made headlines with her terrifying aggressiveness.

No, it wasn't that she wasn't moving at all.

She seemed to be trying in her own way.

But there was a massive delay between receiving an order and executing it.

It was glaringly obvious that her mind was in complete disarray.

Na Jia knew Nabi was extremely shy.

She had stuttered during the auction and looked incredibly restless whenever the team gathered.

It wasn't hard to guess that she suffered from something like social anxiety.

But Na Jia had never expected it to be this severe.

Paralyzed by tension, she couldn't even display half of her usual skill.

Her focus in combat had crumbled, dragging her decision-making down with it.

Whether engaging or retreating, she was always a beat too slow.

Infinity Realm was a game played in real-time.

Because of that, a single second could completely alter the course of a match.

A fogged mind was fatal to both a player's peak performance and their baseline floor.

This was especially true in clashes between high-tier players like this.

Before they could even pinpoint where things had gone wrong, the match tilted heavily out of their favor.

"Ah... at this rate, our Warlock is going to die."

"Can we take down the enemy ADC?"

"I don't think so. Shouldn't we retreat for now?"

"If we fight next time, we'll lose for sure. If we're going to make a move, it has to be right now."

The shadow of defeat was not easily dispelled.

Ultimately, their first scrim ended in a crushing loss.

"It's okay. It's only the first day. We just need to build our teamwork from here on out," Na Jia comforted the team.

Nabi improved slightly starting from the second match, but she still couldn't unleash her true potential.

In their fourth match, they faced Havoc, the former pro gamer, and suffered another defeat.

It was only in the fifth and final match that she managed to secure a solo kill on the enemy tank, as if venting all her pent-up frustration.

Their overall record for the first day was one win and four losses.

Even with the most generous spin, it was a terrible scorecard.

That day, Yu Nabi felt the true weight of defeat for the first time.

She also realized just how agonizingly persistent her social anxiety, which she had never truly overcome, could be.

Yet, she did not break.

In her dark room, huddled beneath her blankets, the emotion Yu Nabi spat out was not despair, but burning frustration.

Next time, I will win. No matter what.

Ever since I decided to become a pro gamer, I had dedicated every single day to gaming.

The key was that I had dedicated myself only to gaming.

I was a latecomer.

Starting later than everyone else meant I had to be twice as relentless.

So, excluding the time needed to eat or sleep—the bare minimum required to survive as a living organism—I poured every waking second into the game.

I thought I was just doing my best.

But when I mentioned this to Seul-bi, I received a massive scolding.

That was why I had started exercising every morning lately.

After all, building up physical stamina could only help.

Though, to be fair, I wasn't doing anything particularly grand.

Just about an hour a day.

I would visit the park near my house and run along the track.

I couldn't run for long stretches at a time.

My stamina was still lacking, and running made my lower back ache because of my heavy chest.

So I would pick up the pace for a short burst, then walk or rest once I was out of breath, repeating the cycle.

"Haa, hah... *pant*... Haaah..."

My body felt like it was dying, but surprisingly, my mind grew peaceful.

Slumping onto a bench, things I usually missed would drift into view.

Like how the sky was so much higher and bluer than the one I used to see from my hospital window.

Or how there were far more people in this park than I had thought.

Just little things like that.

Perhaps this peace of mind came from the metronome ticking in my earphones.

Listening to the regular, rhythmic beats always made me feel grounded.

In truth, this wasn't my own preference, but rather the lingering habit of the original Yu Nabi.

Chopin's Etude Op. 10, No. 12, 'Revolutionary,' has a tempo of 160 BPM.

It was the first piece Yu Nabi had ever practiced, and she used to listen to a metronome whenever she had free time to master the rhythm.

Her hard work had paid off; her rendition of the Etude was so flawless it had astonished her instructors.

Because she had been so overjoyed by their praise back then, an 80 BPM metronome track had remained a permanent fixture in Yu Nabi's playlist.

Wait. Come to think of it...

My eyes widened as a sudden realization struck me.

This happened exactly five hours before the start of the Challengers Cup group stage.