Even Like This, Does It Look Like Bluffing?
Even like this, did it look like bluffing?
Amid the confusion, someone asked.
It was pure curiosity, untouched by any anger — a question from a viewer who had never played a game and genuinely had no idea. The chat window, which had been brimming with questions, faltered for a moment at the sudden inquiry.
An abrupt answer that hardly seemed like an exaggeration. Yet nobody offered a counterargument — only the few who didn't know the game found it hard to believe.
Someone was explaining in detail, and this was no delusion of theirs — these were the official settings posted by the game's developer.
The viewers who lacked game knowledge were genuinely aghast — and, in the same breath, dumbfounded.
After all, Seyul was currently locked in an even battle with a monster likened to an armored vehicle.
"Haaah!"
The Orc Chieftain let out a battle cry. With a roar close to a scream, his axe came down and carved into the earth. Where the axe struck, the ground erupted as if a landmine had gone off. He was strong enough already, and his attack speed was ferociously fast besides — the speed of an arrow loosed at point-blank range, something no human could dodge.
And yet.
Seyul was lightly evading every single one of those attacks. An ordinary human wouldn't even have understood what was happening before being torn in half. This was a strike that went beyond stealing your life in the blink of an eye — it would blow your body apart. The Orc Chieftain unleashed such blows in rapid succession, and not one of them landed.
The Orc Chieftain was clearly the faster of the two. And yet, by the time he collected himself, Seyul had always moved a step ahead — like an ordinary girl wearing chains on her limbs.
Even the gamers who had been playing since launch — the hardcore fans — had never heard of such a technique.
The game offered two viewing modes: third-person and first-person. Those who had quietly switched to first-person to watch let out screams.
The viewers, who had been subjected to a horror experience entirely against their will, voiced their complaints.
Even as the knowledgeable viewers explained, they found themselves puzzled. That was right — enemy speed was adjusted according to the player's stats. Which meant that in Seyul's field of vision right now, her opponent was moving at blistering, superhuman speed. How on earth was she dodging something her eyes couldn't even follow?
While everyone was mulling it over, someone tossed out the question. A great deal had changed while Seyul had been away in the Another World. The first was the virtual reality games being played right now. The second was the arrival of the Hunters and the Kaiju.
Destroyers that had appeared out of nowhere one day. Kaiju — beings against which modern weaponry was utterly useless. And Hunters — the only beings capable of bringing them down. The moment superhumans who existed in reality, unlike the monsters inside a game, were brought up, everyone was thrown into disarray.
An out-of-nowhere Hunter controversy. Of course, Seyul was not a Hunter. If anything, she had been avoiding Hunters. Half the reason she'd shut herself up at home after returning was because of them — she had no idea how people who hunted Kaiju would react upon meeting someone of a different species.
But to the viewers, it sounded plausible.
The viewers, who had been focused on the fight, let their attention drift elsewhere — understandable, since the battle was growing dull. The sight of the Orc Chieftain attacking and Seyul dodging simply repeated, over and over.
"So this is your limit."
At this rate, even the one doing the fighting was getting bored. The Orc Chieftain stopped his attacks and spoke with a sneer.
"I'll admit it again. All I can say is that your skill is remarkable. I can't even begin to guess how you dodge. You may well be the finest I have ever seen." He offered the praise, then added his but. "In the end, all that skill of yours amounts to is dodging!"
The Orc Chieftain glared at Seyul and drove in the point.
"You're so desperate just to evade my attacks that you don't even dare strike back. If you clumsily attempt an offense, my axe will split you in half on the spot — naturally."
"...."
"If you had received the god's power, none of this would have happened. You could have taken my head in a single stroke. Do you understand now? However firmly you hold to your convictions, without strength they mean nothing."
She could not keep dodging forever. Eventually Seyul's stamina would fail — and it would surely give out before his, a monster's, did. The Orc Chieftain was certain of victory. That was why he sneered.
"No. They're not meaningless."
But Seyul neither snapped back nor returned the sarcasm. With sorrowful eyes and a wistful air about her, it was the Orc Chieftain who faltered instead.
I thought the same thing once. I was wrong.
She recalled what had happened in the Another World — the ones who, despite lacking strength, had pushed her to her limits with technique honed to the extreme and unshakable conviction. If strength truly rendered conviction and skill meaningless, then after fighting alongside such people, she would not have lived without regret.
"...If only out of apology to them, I can't drag this out any longer. I was just enjoying myself, dodging, so I hadn't bothered switching to the offensive."
"What?"
"From this moment on, I'll show you just how wrong you are."
Seyul leveled her spear squarely at the dumbfounded Orc Chieftain. To everyone but Seyul, both the words and the gesture were absurd.
Impossible. She was dodging attacks too fast for the eye to see. That alone was impressive enough — and now it turned out she'd been holding back?
"You infuriating creature!"
The viewers didn't believe it, and the Orc Chieftain took it as a taunt. Enraged, he rotated his entire body in a great arc — a full swing of the axe, meant to blast Seyul's body clean away.
"Fine! If you're that confident, then show me!"
"Anytime."
Seyul shrugged. The Orc Chieftain immediately readied his full strength — and she advanced toward him! He had been struggling merely to hold his ground, and now she had thrown herself into the fray of her own accord. The viewers were stunned by the recklessness. They expected the next moment to see Seyul's body cleaved in two —
"!!"
The Orc Chieftain's full-power strike missed yet again. It was a sight that made no sense even watching it happen. The instant Seyul leapt directly into the path of his axe, her body was swept along the arc of the swing — as though some invisible hand had slipped between them and shoved her aside. And then that displaced body appeared in the unlikeliest of places: grazing past the Orc Chieftain's arm by a hair's breadth, her spear stabbed into his flank.
"No!"
The Orc Chieftain was aghast. His body was tough enough that the spear hadn't pierced through, but it hurt considerably. More than anything, he was stunned that she had counterattacked in that situation.
"What did you just do?!"
The Orc Chieftain was astonished by something he couldn't comprehend even with his own eyes, and someone suspected a cheat.
"Have you ever tried to cut a falling leaf from a tree?"
A non-answer. To the incredulous Orc Chieftain, Seyul said something entirely off the wall.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Try it and you'll see it doesn't work. The moment you swing a sword or a spear, the wind pressure sends the leaf flying somewhere else entirely. The harder you swing, the worse it gets."
"What on earth are you talking about right now?"
"To sum it up — I became that leaf."
Seyul let out a sigh at the Orc Chieftain, who understood nothing at all.
"I emptied all the strength from my body and turned myself into something natural. The instant you swung your axe, I surrendered my body entirely to the force it generated. Like a leaf, I was flung somewhere unexpected — and stabbed you where you never anticipated."
What kind of nonsense is that?
In that moment, the minds of the viewers and the Orc Chieftain achieved perfect unity.
Everyone cried out that it was impossible.
"A-astonishing."
The Orc Chieftain entertained the thought that it might be true, but still, gritting his teeth, he clung to his belief in victory.
"Very well. I was struck by it once, so I'll grant that you can do it. But even so, my victory does not waver."
"Why not?"
"As you can see, I do not die from a single thrust of a spear. You would need to stab me dozens of times — and surely you cannot unleash such a risky technique over and over..."
"It's not particularly risky, though?"
"...."
"I can use it as much as I like. Watch."
Immediate execution. Seyul evaded her opponent's attacks in that bizarre manner, slipped into his guard before anyone noticed, pierced the Orc Chieftain's body, and withdrew with unhurried grace.
Seyul had described herself as a leaf, but she was closer to a flower petal. Her slender frame, gleaming silver hair, and dazzling beauty moved as though they were fluttering on the wind — like a lovely petal swaying in a breeze. It was so achingly beautiful that the Orc Chieftain found his gaze stolen again and again.
"Even like this... does everything mean nothing before strength?"
When he came to his senses, he was on his knees before Seyul, bleeding.
Messages that could have been awe or curses flooded the chat. Even the viewers who had disliked Seyul had no choice but to concede to this sight. Whether she was really a Hunter or something else entirely, one thing was certain: her skill was the real deal.
And so —
Watching Seyul refuse to play the game properly despite having that level of skill was enough to drive them mad with frustration.