It Got So Boring I Wanted to Die...!

Gaemangchi's team was in a complete state of shock.

Their first skirmish in the Crystal Mining Area had ended in a total, humiliating defeat. If the other side had been a strong team, they could have at least understood it. But that wasn't the case. It was the exact opposite.

The weakest team in the entire Fall of the Great.

They had just lost to Aura's team—the squad that had spent the whole tournament proving that yes, there really was a basement under the basement floor. And they had lost without managing to do a single thing.

"Holy shit, their luck is insane. A paralysis pistol just happens to land right there?"

They weren't exactly devastated, though. As far as they were concerned, they had only lost because of bad luck.

If you looked at the process, that was absolutely not true. It had been a victory built on meticulous setup and team coordination.

"Right? Those guys are playing with pure RNG. They're probably over there celebrating like they actually won."

"Let 'em enjoy it. That was their first win and it's gonna be their last."

But if you only looked at the result, they had lost because their healer got hit by a paralysis pistol and died. So it wasn't entirely unreasonable for them to think that way.

Without a coach, and with players stuck in the lower tiers, figuring out the full picture of a loss was never easy.

Hyper FPS as a genre was chaotic by nature—full of messy fights and endless variables.

And with the viewers all piling on to agree with the streamers, it became even harder to notice what had actually happened. A few people tried to say the right thing, but those opinions got buried almost immediately.

"Looking at the map. The drill's heading into the Central Mining Zone right now."

Gaemangchi's mouth twisted into a crooked grin as he checked the mining coordinates from base.

"One lucky break and they actually think they're winning. We just had bad luck, that's all."

Gaemangchi nodded at his teammate's words.

"Exactly. They should've just quietly taken their twenty percent on the Outer zone and left. Instead they come crawling out looking for a fight? Time to put them in their place."

He set his hands on the keyboard.

"But first… I'm a merciful guy, so maybe I'll give them one chance."

The truth was, another team had pulled this exact same taunt on Gaemangchi once. He still remembered how furious it had made him. Having been on the receiving end, he knew better than anyone—no team ever actually changed their choice because of it.

And that was exactly why he did it. Because it pissed people off so much.

"What."

Gaemangchi's eyes went wide as he watched the map. The drill had actually changed direction and started turning around.

"…They're actually listening? Do these guys have zero pride?"

"You told them to change it, hyung."

He scratched his cheek at his teammate's point.

"Yeah, that was obviously just to tilt them. I didn't think they'd actually listen. What are they, gay?"

"The other team is all girls, though."

"That doesn't make them gay."

"They do like men, though. So in a way… wouldn't that kind of count?"

"…Is that how it works?"

Gaemangchi tilted his head. For some reason, it almost sounded like it made sense.

At the viewers' comments, he checked the mining coordinates again.

Because they had so obediently taken his advice, he had assumed they were falling back from Central Mining to Outer. But the drill wasn't heading out. It was going deeper.

"……Deep?"

Unless the skill gap was completely overwhelming, the defending side almost always won in the Deep Mining Zone.

"These idiots have finally lost their minds."

"The hell is that supposed to mean? Understand what?"

As the chats kept rolling in one after another, his face flushed red and purple.

"That—that bitch…!"

Gaemangchi slammed his desk once and roared.

"From now on, do NOT go easy on them! Wreck them so hard they never even think about requesting a scrim with us again!"

"Okay. Going full tryhard mode."

"We go easy on them and they treat us like a joke. Let's grind them into dust and force them out of this whole tournament!"

"Hell yeah! Fuck it. Make them drop out themselves!"

His teammates roared along with him, the whole squad firing themselves up.

Gaemangchi stared blankly at the word floating on his screen, his face empty.

Defeat was familiar. Gaemangchi's team had always torn into each other like animals for content whenever they lost.

But this time, they couldn't even do that.

Unlike their other losses, the chat was vicious. But that wasn't even the main reason.

Over more than two weeks of practice, Gaemangchi's team had scrimmed against countless squads.

Some days they went on devastating win streaks. Other days they collapsed so badly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it was pathetic. But even when they lost streak after streak, they never felt despair. If anything, they felt hope.

No matter how high a team's scrim win rate was, they always managed to take at least one round—and sometimes they even took the whole match.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"…It's a swamp. A swamp."

That hope and joy that had filled Gaemangchi's team—that unshakable belief that they would make it to the round of sixty-four—was shattered for the first time today.

A swamp.

There was no other way to put it.

The enemy team hadn't shown some overwhelming skill gap that made them impossible to overcome. And yet, somehow, they just could not win.

At first, they had been confident.

But at some point, everything they thought they knew started to feel wrong.

Where to go.

What to do.

Which call was the right one.

By the end, every single decision felt so hard it was hard to breathe. No matter which way they went, it felt like they would just sink into the swamp. For the first time in his life, Gaemangchi felt truly powerless.

He covered his face with both hands and let his head drop.

For a long while, no one said a word. That was how shocking the loss had been.

"What… even went wrong?"

In the end, Gaemangchi was the first to speak.

They couldn't just sit there frozen forever. They were live, after all.

One of his teammates glanced around carefully before speaking up.

"What?"

Gaemangchi felt his blood run cold.

He had been staring blankly at the floor, but now his head slowly lifted. The screen came into focus.

Catastrophic stats.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Looking only at that, there was no other culprit—but Gaemangchi felt wronged.

"Hey. You guys kept dying before I could even do anything. And every time I finally went in, I got focused instantly—how the hell am I supposed to survive that?"

"I went in fine! I went in perfectly fine—you just couldn't hold the frontline, so I got collapsed on and died!"

"So in the end, you're saying it's my fault you guys had a hard time?"

His teammate threw the words out with a snide edge. Gaemangchi's eyes went cold and still. He pressed his mouth shut.

Grit—

The sound of his molars grinding like they were about to crack came through the mic with perfect clarity.

The viewers who heard that sound were thoroughly rattled.

Gaemangchi's team fighting on stream was nothing new. They scraped at each other, tore into each other, raised their voices all the time. But that was always for content.

WWE, basically.

They pretended to hit each other, but never actually drew blood.

The sound of those grinding molars was different. There was no way to write that off as content.

"Bullshit."

Gaemangchi's voice dropped low.

"Fuck, was I the only one who played bad? You guys played like shit too, so why the hell are you only going after me?"

"You played like absolute garbage too, so why the hell is all the shit only aimed at me! Let's be real—we lost because you're worse than that Bullet girl on their side!"

"You, you fucking—I've hated you from the start. Your voice alone sounds like some mosquito buzzing in my ear and it's goddamn disgusting. Do you even know how much that voice of yours fucks up team play?"

"What, you little shit? Oh, you'd never say that to my face if we actually met. You fucking retard."

"Fine. Come out. Come out!!!"

Crash—!

Gaemangchi shoved his chair back like he was throwing it, stood up, and stomped off toward the closet, fuming. A moment later he came back out in roughly thrown-on clothes, stared straight into the camera, and said:

"Gangnam Station Exit 8. Get out here, you bastard!"

With that, Gaemangchi vanished off camera. Right after, the front door slammed shut with a violent bang. And after that, only the low hum of the PC cooler filled the room.

2.

We were getting ready for the next scrim, but the other team just wouldn't show up, so I casually poked them in chat….

"Huh?"

They really just… left?

"W-what does that even mean?"

I tilted my head and hopped into Gaemangchi's stream. There was nobody on screen. Only after scanning the chat for a moment did I finally piece together what had happened.

"T-they went to do a Yacha Rule with their own teammate…?"

"W-what do you mean I killed them…! That's a misunderstanding…!"

I waved my hands frantically, trembling all over.

At my teammates' questions, I passed along everything I'd just found out.

"A-at least our whole team is g-girls, so we're safe…."

"W-well, at least none of us are the type to throw a hyun-pi, right?"

Women were a little more mild-mannered than those meatheaded guys, weren't they? Mm-hmm.

"Huh!?"

Heukrangi's words made me jump.

"Uh…."

I shut my mouth. And quietly thought to myself:

I should probably tone down the trash talk a little from now on….

"No wonder. I was wondering why you talk like such garbage…."

I nodded.

"So you had something backing you up…."

"Yeah. Not going. Get lost."

Someone donated while I was talking with Heukrangi.

"Thank you for the 1,000 won donation…! The chat window?"

"Uh… uh…?"

The moment I looked at the chat, the text was flying upward like mad. This was the kind of speed I only saw during the hack-accusation stream!

H-how many viewers are even watching right now?

"Ohh!?"

What on earth was going on!?