A Brand New Kind of Genius
Hero narrowed her eyes.
Yu Nabi cast her eyes downward, looking for all the world like a criminal awaiting sentencing.
Hero thought about teasing her with another mischievous joke, but decided against it.
The girl had been visibly tense from the very beginning.
Just looking at her, it was obvious she would struggle with basic social interactions, let alone professional life.
Hero got the feeling that if she pushed any harder, the girl might just burst into tears.
While it was an obstacle Nabi would eventually have to overcome if she wanted to become a pro gamer, there was no need to force it today.
So, rather than pressuring her, Hero gave her some breathing room.
To be honest, a wicked part of me kind of wants to see her cry.
She knew it was a terrible thought.
But there was something about Nabi’s teary, downcast face that stirred a strange, slightly guilty urge.
Not out of malice or actual bullying, of course, but the idea of teasing her just enough to make her pout, only to gently comfort her afterward, sent a shiver of bizarre satisfaction down her spine.
Hero barely managed to rein in her straying thoughts.
They had only just met today.
She couldn't just act on every passing whim.
More importantly, this was not a private gathering.
As Seo Hee-ryun the human being, she was an adult.
She had reached an age where she could no longer call herself a child, even in jest.
The young girl who simply loved games was long gone.
The glorious days of her own pro career had come to an end by her own choice, and she was now living the life of a coach, guiding the next generation forward.
She had no regrets... Well, maybe a few, but either way, her autumn had passed.
Today was a formal evaluation for a rookie she had personally scouted.
While this routine was second nature to her, for Yu Nabi, it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that could decide her future.
She had to keep things strictly professional.
Hero tapped the keyboard a few times.
Skipping past several exchanges, the video sped backward.
She paused the footage on a frame where Yu Nabi was arching her back to dodge an incoming strike.
"Why did you dodge here? If you had taken the hit, your counterattack would have landed much deeper."
"Just before that... I took bleed damage. My... my HP was a bit too low."
"So you would have died if you got hit? That's possible. Let's check."
The esports scene for Infinity Realm was by no means small.
Even back in 2024, the esports market had been valued at around three trillion won, and it had only continued to grow since.
Now, fueled by the explosive popularity of Infinity Realm, it was no exaggeration to call it one of the largest cultural industries in the world.
The professional league was the pinnacle of this massive industry.
Coaching and match analysis were no longer done using primitive methods.
A top-tier team like SnowWitch naturally possessed state-of-the-art equipment and analysis software.
In a hyper-realistic virtual reality game like Infinity Realm, perfectly recreating a past scenario was "difficult."
Likewise, simulating "what-if" scenarios was no easy task.
But "difficult" meant it was still possible.
SnowWitch possessed a program dedicated to running these exact simulations.
When they ran the calculations...
The simulation showed that even if she had taken the hit, she would have survived with a sliver of health remaining.
Yu Nabi was wrong. However, Hero did not mark this as an incorrect answer.
Bleeding was a status effect that dealt damage over time.
Even if she had survived the initial strike, Nabi's character would have succumbed to the ticking bleed damage moments later.
If anything, her judgment was terrifyingly accurate.
While Hero was looking at the calculated results of a specialized program, Yu Nabi had to crunch those numbers in the middle of a chaotic, high-speed battle.
Considering the premise Nabi had operated under—the theoretical maximum damage of the attack—her decision was practically flawless.
To reiterate, Infinity Realm was a game that closely mirrored reality.
The damage and impact force varied depending on the angle and timing of the strike.
What Hero needed to do now was not criticize, but marvel.
She stroked her chin.
This is... a brand new kind of genius. One I've never seen before.
There were plenty of geniuses in the world.
Painfully, brutally many.
And occasionally, monsters would emerge who drove even those geniuses to despair.
The highly developed esports pro league had already become a battlefield of geniuses.
Those with ordinary talent couldn't even set foot inside, and only those with universally recognized gifts could barely scrape by at the bottom.
Hero could proudly say she was a predator who had devoured countless such geniuses.
Because of this, talent was a familiar concept to her.
She was not someone who merely identified gems; she was an appraiser who determined their exact worth.
The talents she had faced, defeated, and occasionally lost to over the years were truly countless.
Run-of-the-mill talent could no longer surprise her.
One monstrous swordsman knew how to wield a blade to its absolute limit.
Devilish mind games, an innate sense of spacing, and details so precise they bordered on obsession.
Even if they weren't quite on that monster's level, every opponent she had ever faced possessed at least one formidable talent.
But she had never seen anyone like Yu Nabi.
"What about here? This looks incredibly dangerous even at a glance."
"That... that was because of the lifesteal. Havoc's wind-up delay was 0.56 seconds, right? Since I had a 0.23-second advantage in timing..."
"So your attack was guaranteed to land first. And with the HP gained from the lifesteal, you wouldn't die in one hit. Which meant you'd get the initiative for the next attack, making it a guaranteed win?"
"Y-yes! You... you understood immediately."
"It's my job to catch on quick, even if you explain it in shorthand."
Her calculation speed was insane, as if she had spent her entire life locked away doing nothing but math.
Her sense of time was so precise it practically matched the system's internal clock.
Even Hero had never seen a player who weaponized this specific kind of talent in combat.
The thing was... it actually seemed highly viable.
She could finally understand why Havoc had been so confident that she would succeed.
Her raw combat mechanics were still a bit of a question mark.
There were plenty of players who could fight better and swing a sword cleaner than Yu Nabi.
But she had only recently started playing the game, and her adaptation to the weapon was remarkably fast.
While she still needed more testing... she had passed the combat portion for now.
As Hero scanned the replay, she suddenly threw out a surprise question.
"HP 12,000, Defense 350, Damage Reduction 20%. What's the effective HP?"
"Uh... 78,141?"
"Unbelievable. Alright, good. Let's look a bit more."
My meeting with Hero ended in a blur.
I was peppered with questions in the meeting room for nearly two hours, and I had to scramble to answer them all.
I had no idea if I had done well or not.
Hero hadn't given me any indication.
She only told me that she would email me the results soon.
Was this how job seekers felt after an interview?
If so, I didn't think I would ever survive the job market.
Honestly, every single second of waiting felt like torture.
Unable to bear it any longer, I reached out to Lee Seul-bi for advice.
"Doesn't that mean it went well? You said she asked you a ton of questions."
"Maybe... maybe she asked so much because she didn't trust my skills."
"I doubt it. If she thought that, she wouldn't have bothered asking. If she thought you were no good, she would've just rejected you on the spot. Why waste two hours of her time?"
"Y-you think so?"
"Someone of Hero's stature doesn't just have time to kill. If you still don't get in after all that, it just means your competitor was an absolute monster. You should just accept it."
Hearing this from an actual trainee made me feel much better.
I especially liked her last point.
If I didn't get chosen, it wasn't because I lacked talent—it was because some unknown competitor was just that amazing.
It was a wonderful way to dodge responsibility, and it brought me immense peace of mind...
"Anyway, SnowWitch, huh? I guess that makes us rivals for the foreseeable future."
"Wait, what?"
"Think about it. I'm starting my pro career with Blue Serpent, and if things go well, you'll be starting with SnowWitch."
"Ah... I guess you're right."
When I thought about it, she was absolutely correct.
Blue Serpent and SnowWitch were fierce rivals constantly battling for the championship.
This wasn't just true for the main rosters; the dynamic was exactly the same in the secondary league, IKL Next.
If I joined SnowWitch and Lee Seul-bi secured a starting spot, we would end up as bitter rivals.
The thought of that was a bit painful.
Before I knew it, Lee Seul-bi had become an invaluable mentor to me, and we had grown quite close.
To think we would be enemies once we went pro.
I guess this was what people meant when they said the world of competition was cold.
I understood it intellectually, but facing it in reality left a bitter taste in my mouth.
"Don't take it too seriously. I was just joking. There are plenty of pro players who are close friends even if they play against each other in the league."
"Yeah. Thanks, as always. You've been a huge help."
"Really? You're really grateful? In that case, do you mind if I brag a little?"
"Brag? Don't tell me..."
"Yep. I officially made the roster. We'll have to see how the rules shake out, but I'll probably get to play at least one match."
It seemed that while I was struggling to catch up, Lee Seul-bi was taking massive strides forward.
Seeing her so far ahead of me... I offered her my heartfelt congratulations.
"C-congratulations! Seriously. I'm so happy for you."
Of course, I felt a twinge of envy.
But fortunately, my happiness for her was much greater.
It seemed I wasn't petty enough to be jealous of my kind mentor.
I heard a soft breath from the other end of the line.
It was a sound filled with pure, unadulterated joy.
"So, I was wondering... would you come watch the opening match? I'll get you a ticket."
Her unexpected offer hit me like a physical blow.
Oh. I can actually go to the arena in person.
I had been living without even considering the possibility of leaving my room, so the thought hadn't even crossed my mind.
Suddenly, I found myself filled with intense anticipation.