The Perfect Question

At that moment, it felt as if a time bomb had been planted right in the middle of the event hall, but Jeon Gangseop had no choice but to keep the show going. The entire showcase was riding on Ias's survival. Whether the bomb went off or he wasted time trying to defuse it, the result would be the same: total disaster. The only path forward was to coax and soothe the bomb until the event ended without incident. Still, for Jeon Gangseop—who wasn't even used to live broadcasts—the pressure of having to host the entire stage alone without a single caster felt crushing. But what could he do? He was the one who had taken the director's seat, and he was the one who had suggested throwing streamers into the event at the last minute. If he could turn back time, he would have slapped his own face the exact second he decided to involve them.

Jeon Gangseop let out a long breath and pressed the remote. The screen changed, revealing a single massive English word filling the display.

"The subtitle for this winter break event is Revive," he announced.

Revive—meaning resurrection. It carried the ambition of bringing Ias back to life after the game company's repeated blunders had left it for dead.

"Yes, many of you have probably already guessed. We chose this subtitle because—"

Jeon Gangseop's confident introduction faltered as his gaze drifted back to the helmet-wearing madwoman. What… what is it? Why does it feel like she's staring at me?

Of course, Minji's face was completely hidden behind the helmet. Her head seems tilted about fifteen degrees more than before… Does she not like the subtitle? To Jeon Gangseop, it looked like the terrorist holding the detonator was in a very bad mood. Considering that the victims had lost tens of millions because of them, it was a classic case of the thief feeling guilty.

Of course, the person in question—Minji—had no such thoughts.

Oh, Revive. Not bad. It's nice that they're openly admitting they messed up.

Yeah.

She had said the game was "completely dead," but that didn't mean she planned to ruin the event. Setting aside any grudges, Minji was still one of Ias's fans who genuinely liked and loved the game. She didn't want to see it end in total collapse, and a successful showcase would be good for her too. Besides, if she deliberately sabotaged it, who would deal with the backlash afterward? She was impulsive and prioritized her own fun, but she wasn't the thoughtless person Jeon Gangseop feared.

When do I make my move? My mouth is itching.

…?

Of course… she still planned to cause just a little mischief. Jeon Gangseop, unaware of this, continued his remarks while carefully watching Minji. Every time she tilted her head or shifted her posture even slightly, he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠flinched. The audience simply assumed he was nervous.

For now, it seemed the bomb wouldn't go off.

For now.

"Director, when can we expect to see the new class…?"

"Next week."

"Ooh!"

Jeon Gangseop's tongue, which everyone—including the development team—had worried about, was now dancing smoothly across the stage. Unlike the previous broadcast that had been a complete disaster, this one was prepared to an almost excessive degree. The content being revealed was exactly what players wanted, so simply reading it off was enough to draw positive reactions. It was like handing a gun to someone who lacked confidence in a fight—the confidence came rushing in.

The part Jeon Gangseop had feared most was the sudden actions of the helmet-wearing madwoman—no, the helmet girl, who didn't seem quite as mad anymore. But since Minji hadn't made any moves, he was able to focus on the event with peace of mind.

"Now, I'm sure you've all been waiting for this. Many of you have asked why a game that makes raids fun doesn't release any raids and only puts out weird stuff instead."

Honest commentary drew laughter from the audience. It was another self-deprecating joke, and in the current atmosphere, it landed perfectly. If they could successfully turn the game's mood around after today, Ias would be reevaluated as a model example of a company that acknowledged its mistakes and improved. And among the games that collapsed after using the "we didn't do anything wrong" tactic, Ias would proudly stand as a god-tier game!

"Finally, this winter, the new raid boss Bolekia will make its appearance."

The empire's strongest swordsman and the emperor's closest aide—Imperial First Sword Bolekia, leader of the hostile faction opposing the players' kingdom. Ias had announced this raid a year and a half ago. The problem was that it was only now finally seeing the light of day. Naturally, the audience's reaction was lukewarm: "Well… at least it's actually coming out?"

The developers had already anticipated this kind of response and prepared accordingly.

"Before we get into the details, let's watch the trailer we've prepared."

Seeing is believing. Rather than lengthy explanations, a direct visual impact was far more effective—and Jeon Gangseop deeply agreed. As expected, the moment the trailer began, even those who had been skeptical let out excited cheers.

Bolekia, clad in brilliant white armor, slaughtering player characters. With each of the meticulously crafted patterns revealed, the venue's excitement grew hotter.

[Come.]

Just three words. That single line from Bolekia completely amplified the raid's anticipation. As the video ended, the gymnasium filled with 4,500 spectators erupted into thunderous applause.

"Of course, many of you are curious about when Bolekia will be released. Bolekia drops in three weeks—right after the ICK finals, which you all probably call the Ias Immortal Battlefield finals, conclude."

Three weeks sounded long, but the players' reactions were mostly positive. The new class was coming soon, so they could level that while waiting, and after watching the ICK finals, the Bolekia raid timing would naturally follow. It was a nonstop stream of updates with no room for boredom. After a long dry spell, the golden age had finally arrived.

And that wasn't all.

"Also, the moment the Bolekia raid launches, we've prepared a special event—"

The moment people saw those words on the screen, they understood exactly what the event meant. First Clear. In an RPG centered around raids, it was the honor given to those who completed the raid first. Of course, honor was just honor—nothing more than a hollow title with no material rewards. But—

"Yes, as most of you have guessed, it's a First Clear event. We're officially hosting a First Clear event for the Bolekia raid."

A First Clear officially recognized by the game company carried different weight.

"Not only the first clear, but we'll also be giving out honorable rewards on a tiered basis to the top ten clearing parties."

Especially when the company was actively encouraging participation through events like this. Exclusive titles, decorations, avatars, and having your nickname and character displayed in the Hall of Fame on the official site—these were rewards that any MMORPG player would drool over. It was the announcement of a truly massive, ultra-premium event.

Whoaaaaaaa!

The loudest cheer of the day shook the gymnasium. Hearing it, Jeon Gangseop felt certain the showcase had succeeded. How much had he suffered until now? Being a director didn't mean he could do whatever he wanted. The higher-ups demanded results while the lower ranks begged for mercy—it was hell. If only he belonged completely to one side or the other. This was the misery of middle management, caught in between. But now, things were different. This cool, heavy sensation… It was time to return to the top spot in Korean RPGs!

"Now, I'm sure you have many questions. Let's take a few questions from our streamer guests."

The moment Jeon Gangseop, relaxed by his sense of success, turned his gaze toward the streamer seats—

Huh?

The helmet girl who had been quiet until now—Minji—had her hand raised high. Wait, why now? Jeon Gangseop swallowed dryly. His decades of social experience were ringing alarm bells. No matter how uneasy he felt, he couldn't ignore someone raising their hand so openly. It would look bad, and… maybe it wasn't anything serious after all.

"Yes, Seongnyeo Naise."

Jeon Gangseop handed over the floor without ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hesitation, and all eyes in the audience turned to Minji. Reactions erupted from every corner: "That's Seongna?" "Seriously, Seongna?" "What? What's with the helmet?" In the current Ias community, Seongnyeo Naise was a hot potato—a dopamine factory that stirred up issues wherever she went. Why was she suddenly grabbing the mic after staying quiet this whole time? To troll and ruin the showcase? Or simply to satisfy her curiosity as a player? Jeon Gangseop, the audience, the online viewers, and even Suha sitting beside her in nervous fidgeting—all waited for the words that would come from Minji's mouth.

And what came out was—

"Yes, Director. Before my question, I'd like to express my gratitude to the Ias development team for all the hard work you've put into preparing this massive Revive update."

It was an unexpectedly normal comment. Most reactions were along the lines of "Huh? That's really Seongna?" Jeon Gangseop himself stared at Minji in bewilderment, clearly not having expected this.

"Ah, yes. Thank you."

"Then my first question. There's been ongoing criticism that Ias raids have high fatigue levels. You mentioned Bolekia would launch with a despair-inducing difficulty. Could you tell us how that fatigue level is being handled?"

In short: raids already felt like homework and were burdensome enough—would players be able to handle it if the difficulty increased even more? This question was also perfectly normal. In fact, it was so exemplary and clean that the developers might have wanted to thank her for it.

"We've discussed that issue multiple times and put a lot of thought into it. There's also the First Clear event… and we did, um, loudly proclaim the 'despair-inducing difficulty'—pfft, yes, we did say that."

Jeon Gangseop let out an awkward laugh. And at that moment, he completely let go of his worries about Seongna.

"So the difficulty for the First Clear event will be released as a separate 'The First' difficulty. Meanwhile, the existing Normal and Hard difficulties will be adjusted to be relatively easier than before."

But Jeon Gangseop had no way of knowing—Minji was still waiting for the perfect moment to cause chaos.

"I see. Then my next question. According to the Bolekia introduction text, the raid is designed to demand more individual player skill. Did I hear that correctly?"

"Yes, that's right. Unlike the existing raid called 'Cyber Skirmish Zone,' Bolekia is designed so that raid progress depends entirely on the players' mechanical skill."

Minji's lips curved into a grin beneath the helmet.

"In that case, balance patches will be even more important, right?"

Even though no one could see it through the helmet, it was clearly a wicked smile.

"Yes, of course… Yes?"

"Since there's a First Clear event, it's true that gauge classes have an advantage against gimmick bosses and the tiers are split, isn't it? You said Bolekia is a mechanical skill-based boss rather than a gimmick one… so there will naturally be a thorough balance ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠patch for this, right?"

"Uh, well…"

I'm fucked. Those three words flashed through Jeon Gangseop's mind. Perfect balance in an RPG is an illusion. You can approach it, but you'll never reach that supreme realm. After all, how could you perfectly balance classes whose DPS varies wildly depending on the boss and environment? That's why Ias had only ever alternated buffs and nerfs between classes, ensuring no single job stayed in the top ranks for too long. They rotated the top and bottom jobs to keep complaints suppressed. This winter break's balance patch wasn't much different. But the moment Seongna asked that question, everything changed. If he said no, they'd become an incompetent company that couldn't even do balance patches before a First Clear event. If he said yes, they'd have to scrap the existing balance patch and create a near-perfect golden balance right away. Either ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠way, it was an outcome Ias never wanted to face. Jeon Gangseop had a feeling that invisible face beneath the helmet was smiling wickedly.

I'm really fucked.