Chapter 61

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Translator: True Detective

Chapter: 61

Chapter Title: Trial

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A towering fortress blazed fiercely. The snow piled around it melted from the heat, revealing the corpses buried beneath.

Enemy soldiers raised their banners and charged toward the fortress. All I could do was stare blankly at the scene.

Boom―!

A cannonball from the artillery slammed into the walls. The sturdy barrier crumbled, and soldiers poured into the stronghold.

"...First time seeing this."

Watching our own base—not the enemy's—get destroyed was a first for me in all my gaming.

Ally chat visible in the corner of my screen.

I looked up at the sky blankly. Giant snowflakes were falling like ash.

"Hoo..."

I let out a deep sigh, my breath puffing out like cigarette smoke.

"...Sorry."

There was really nothing to say. The loss was a fact. But it felt a bit unfair.

"Thanks for the comfort."

Thanks to her sponsorship, the viewers stopped trolling. Of course, that was just our stream—the ingame chat was still flooding nonstop.

"...Shameless."

The bottom duo—the cause of the loss—talking like that? Unbelievable. I couldn't hold back and typed in chat.

I'd lost my first duel against their jungler by a hair, but never after that. We knew each other's skills, so fights didn't break out easily.

When lanes stabilize like that, other lanes become crucial. Top was fine, after all.

'But bot had to implode.'

I had no idea what happened down there—just nonstop death pings. By the time I could leave top, the map was already ruined beyond saving.

If their top was weak, I could've pressured side lanes and transitioned. But no.

The Legendary Arena was a team game. One lane collapsing this hard meant loss—like a pillar crumbling.

"...Unbelievable."

I shook my head at their ugly blame-shifting. Where'd the friendly vibe from earlier go?

'Yeah. Humans, right.'

No wonder The Legendary Arena was called a mental illness simulator.

"What's a trial?"

The chat was flooded with the weird word. I'd never heard it before.

A viewer kindly explained via sponsorship.

"Thanks for the explanation. So basically a trial, right?"

I got the idea immediately.

"What do you get if you win a trial?"

"Betting money? On a ranked game? Why?"

I tilted my head. Couldn't make sense of it.

The explanations made my head spin. Never dreamed this culture existed.

"Who acts as judge?"

Quick answers meant it was popular in The Legendary Arena.

Me going silent emboldened the bot duo. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Trial, huh. Kinda tempting."

I hadn't planned to at first. But letting them off meant more toxicity ahead.

'Can't let that slide.'

As a former Hero party member, I couldn't ignore evil. If no one else would, it was on me.

Baek Hwayeon was heated too, sponsoring like that.

Public opinion wouldn't let me back out. Truth was, I wanted to anyway.

"Thanks for the sponsorship, Baek Hwayeon. But I'm good—I've got enough from before. I'll take the thought."

I bowed my head.

They accepted instantly. Confident bunch.

"What even gives them that confidence? Amazing."

How could they be so brazen? Anyone could see it was their fault.

The fortress was about to fall soon. I stared blankly at the burning structure, waiting for the end.

Suddenly, footsteps from behind. I turned—a man stood there.

Ponytail hair. A sword in each hand. Covered in blood from recent combat.

He stared silently. I stood quietly, greatsword ready. No reaction.

'...What? Not here to kill?'

Thought he came for last hit. Why just stare? Why the longing in his eyes?

"Do you know me?"

As he opened his mouth, the fortress collapsed. DEFEAT flashed before me.

Post-game screen up, I finally checked his name.

"...Belra?"

I tilted my head. Never seen it before.

'But why that look earlier?'

Thought to ask him via friend request, but bot duo's requests came first. Curious, but not urgent.

"They didn't run, at least."

MyRoom invite arrived. Accepted—a portal opened. Beyond it, two guys sitting.

"Hi."

Eye contact—they flinched simultaneously. Glanced at each other, asked awkwardly.

"You're a girl?"

"Yeah. Problem?"

"...N-no."

I sat opposite. Their stares felt off.

"Anyway, straight to business."

Not here to bond.

"First, who do we trial? You two seem experienced—know anyone credible?"

No intent to intimidate, but viewers twisted it. Couldn't correct mid-talk.

"Yes. Super famous ref in this scene. Let's go with him."

"What's his name?"

"Max."

Chats confirmed he was legit.

"Good. Next, what's the point of contention?"

"Who contributed more to the loss. That."

They were pros at this—quick response. Probably pre-discussed despite not duoing.

"You sure? You'll lose for sure that way."

"...Fine. We won't lose anyway."

Their faces twisted—pride hurt. I shrugged.

"Alright, that it is."

No reason to refuse their choice.

"Last, the stakes. How much money?"

"Hold on, can we talk privately?"

"Sure."

A barrier went up around them. Lips moving, no sound—some setting.

"Should we discuss too? What amount?"

"...Huh?"

The scale threw me off. That much for an ingame spat?

"Too much. No one bets that. I think 500k won? Perfect amount."

Not too small, not too big. Just painful enough to lose.

"Let's see their offer first."

Waited. Barrier dropped.

"Decided?"

I asked right away. Red-haired guy nodded.

"Yeah. 500k each, total 1 mil. Cool?"

"1 mil..."

Double what I thought. But per person same-ish.

"Uh... if that's too much, other payment methods ok."

As I pondered, the other added.

"...Other methods?"

"Yeah, like... duo queue or something. Since you're a girl...?"

My face twisted in disgust.

Revulsion boiled up. Explained the creepy stares—lust.

"I'm fine. Got the cash."

"Oh, cool? Thought you might be broke, that's why."

"...Right."

Wanted to smack them, but streaming—plus VR, pointless.

'But taking this lying down? Not my style.'

I smirked at them.

"Y'know, feels low now. Raise it?"

"Amount? This is plenty."

"Yeah."

They looked reluctant.

"If you can't afford it, oh well."

Their eyes twitched—ego bruised.

"We got money. Just didn't wanna trouble Carrier."

"I'm fine? I suggested it. You two seem troubled."

"No way. Raise it. How much?"

I smirked, holding up two fingers.

"Double. Exactly double."

My mood was twice as sour—fair trade.

They exchanged looks, nodded.

"Fine. 2 mil. But no begging for refund after you lose?"

"That's my line."

You guys lost.