Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: It's Not a Boomer Game
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They say it's her first computer in life, so she splurged on top specs as of two years ago.
Playing a few matches on this computer after work was one of the joys in her life.
Right, games.
It's obvious that operating a keyboard requires using all five fingers.
In other words, getting used to games would naturally teach her how to move her fingers smoothly!
With games, time flies by without her even noticing.
She knew rehab was tougher than it seemed, even without experiencing injury herself.
If there was a way to do it while having fun, that would be perfect.
And luckily, she had a game she already enjoyed.
The brilliant idea that she never would have come up with on her own put her in sky-high spirits.
She hurried to the computer and turned it on.
"Ugh."
Horrifyingly, a male idol was set as the wallpaper, so she gagged and switched it back to the default.
Could this have changed too? She checked the specs, and thankfully, they matched what she remembered.
If even this had been downgraded to outdated junk, she'd have been seriously bummed...
The game wasn't installed as if it were the most natural thing, so she downloaded it again while maneuvering the mouse and keyboard.
It took a bit longer since she consciously used all five fingers, but she installed it without issue.
She could confidently say keyboard use was several times easier than chopsticks.
Though maybe that was just because she was poking at the keys haltingly.
Soon, the game booted up normally.
The familiar logo and login screen welcomed her.
It was all for rehab.
She absolutely wasn't turning to games to escape reality.
She created a new account and logged in.
Nothing shines forever.
The "eternity" people so casually toss around lacks substance, merely rising and falling in the grand flow of things.
Perhaps because a person's "everything" occupies just the tiniest corner of the world.
People mistake that fleeting glimmer for permanence and name it trivially.
Yet the principle governing the world remains unchanged.
The prosperous decay, and the decayed are forgotten.
Here lies a game on the path to decay.
Once booming enough to be called the national game, now treated as an archaic folk pastime.
To gamers in their early twenties and students, it falls into the classic category.
Triachia.
A masterpiece RTS game depicting three races vying for hegemony in a fantasy world.
The main content is one-on-one matches where players pit strategies against each other.
This is my favorite game.
I too once deluded myself that Triachia would thrive forever.
But now, with most users relegating it to "nostalgia," they might ask me, "Why you still playing that boomer game?"
I have plenty to say.
Setting aside that it's no shallow game dismissed as boomer fodder,
there are two big reasons.
First, for a three-fingered disabled player, strategy-heavy games are the only ones somewhat playable.
RPGs get dropped after a few frustrating tries since you can't exercise "winner's rights" on defeated foes,
and modern games where individual control heavily sways outcomes? Casually given up.
Especially the hottest recent AOS genre with teams of four or five.
How do those players know I'm an orphan, unloved, and finger-disabled? They must be shamans who need to lay out mats right now.
Second, my orphanage upbringing and impoverished childhood played a huge role.
In elementary and middle school, classmates (hard to call friends since they beat me whenever they could) would gather in groups during breaks, bragging about last night's best plays like Hitler on a podium.
Naturally, the hot game back then, Triachia, dominated the talk.
But owning my own computer like them was impossible, and installing games on the orphanage communal PC meant getting spanked by the high schoolers.
To broke kid-me without PC bang money, it was plenty enviable.
Anyway, that's why I love Triachia.
Whether it's rebellion against my twisted childhood or venting inferiority as a disabled person who can compete equally in games—it doesn't matter now.
No matter the start, I'm hooked on this game.
"Humanity, Undead, Dragonkin... Good, same as always."
Even if I'd changed, the world hadn't.
That reassured my shrunken body.
Though the account I'd poured passion into was gone, this game rarely sees long-term accounts anyway.
Unlike others, there's no accumulation on the account itself—newbies and vets are equal.
So she logged in with a new account, no regrets.
Triachia has three races.
Humanity: Human-led alliance that grows stronger the more races unite.
Dragonkin: Expensive, but individually superior to other races.
Undead: Massive swarms and plague-like rapid expansion.
Players pick one and clash.
Gather resources on the map, advance tech or produce combat units to reduce the opponent's civilization to dust.
My main race is, naturally, Humanity.
With three fingers, my weakness was precise control of individual units.
But APM (actions per minute) was decent.
Mouse clicks are doable with three fingers.
Dragonkin and Undead rely on early dominance with powerful base units to snowball, demanding good micro of few units.
Humanity fights in massed groups later, not individuals.
With sticky macro builds, even a hand-disabled player can seize win timings—that's why.
Thanks to that, my ranked score is 2300, top 3% or so.
In modern tier terms, roughly Diamond and up.
Maintaining that with three fingers? I have my secrets.
A specialty strategy, you could say.
First day escaping disability. Won't jump into ranked yet.
To get used to healthy hands and warm up, she entered a custom room.
Custom rooms are player-hosted non-ranked games, no impact on score.
Average skill is low.
A 2300 Humanity player usually stomps folks.
Of course, hidden experts exist, but...
Odds of meeting one are negligible.
She glanced at titles, gauging.
Which room to scratch an itch?
Ideally, someone with bloated ego but skill that doesn't match.
She's got a keen eye for them.
Many reasons I love Triachia, but peak immersion isn't victory.
It's the ritual imprinting power's weight on the foe,
looking down at their crushed head, quietly affirming winner's rights—that chills me with pleasure.
These days called teabagging.
Mocking the defeated is a tradition from medieval times—winner's duty and responsibility.
Chivalry?
That era's average "honor" was ripping the loser's shield or crest before their eyes, or ordering bards to spread mocking poems about their house.
Body became female, but with a knightly heart, no thought of shirking that duty.
Absolutely not because seeing losers rage is too fun.
This one.
She smiled and entered.
"Welcome, everyone. Nice to meet you."
"STL (SOFT Triachia League)? Of course I watched. Jun-oh did great, huh? As expected from last season's champ."
Kim Sung-jin is a popular BJ broadcasting on SOFT, one of Korea's two major platforms.
Former Triachia pro, he even lifted the STL winner's cup at his peak.
Specializing in machine-like textbook macro, he earned the nickname "Siri" after the AI in A-company phones.
"Thanks for the 1000 won, Anonymous and UndeadBuffPrayer. Me? Hmm... Honestly, epic matches get my blood pumping, but... I'm retired. Gotta focus on streaming."
Post-retirement, Kim Sung-jin's main content isn't ranked.
It's custom rooms with wild strategies, thoroughly toying with opponents.
Especially abusing pro-banned cost-inefficient units.
Possible thanks to his signature stable macro creating vast resource gaps.
"Shall we hop into a custom today? Light first game..."
Kim Sung-jin scrolled through dozens of custom room titles.
Vs total noobs, viewers get bored too, so target mid-to-high skill.
One room caught his eye.
With over a decade in Triachia, Kim Sung-jin was certain.
In today's stagnant scene of vets only, no such thing as true manner users.
Especially customs over ranked—trend amplifies.
So that title's true meaning: "I'll piss you off with polite, curse-free speech."
Spot-on his type of player.
He knew reverse-trolling them sparks huge fun.
"This room looks good."
Even self-proclaimed expert?
Could stage YouTube-worthy content if played right.
No hesitation, he entered.