Upon clicking, I entered the room.
Although not truly a courteous player, Kim Sung-jin greeted the room, emphasizing her pretense of good manners.
The reactions of opponents were particularly noteworthy when she shed this disguise and revealed her true nature in-game.
[^______^]: Hello, host.
^______^ – [Korea] Custom Game — Wins 0, Losses 0, Disconnects 0
[Dying HP Identifier]: Yo.
Dying HP Identifier – [Korea] Custom Game — Wins 6, Losses 0, Disconnects 0
“Oh. This person has a remarkably good record, don’t they?”
With six wins and no losses, they could certainly lay claim to being a high-level player.
Playing six matches invariably involves builds failing and scouting going awry, yet this record implied an ability to overturn disadvantageous situations and emerge victorious.
This was a player with fundamental skill.
Kim Sung-jin, realizing she couldn’t afford to be too complacent, checked the map.
It wasn’t uncommon for some malicious players with such high win rates to create rooms using ‘cheat maps’ that provided abundant resources only in their starting base.
“The map seems normal.”
[^______^]: Host, your win rate is incredibly good, isn’t it?
. . .
[Dying HP Identifier]: Nah, I just kept beating up one guy.
[Dying HP Identifier]: They ran away mid-game.
[^______^]: Ah, I see…
“Oh, this is quite a malicious person. Is it really right to harass just one individual like that?”
Her voice was laced with a hint of amusement.
Relentlessly tormenting a single person to rack up consecutive losses was, in fact, the usual style of Kim Sung-jin’s broadcasts.
Even the most good-natured person, after being subjected to four or five shoddy builds, would inevitably erupt in a torrent of ‘praise’ they couldn’t hold back.
Nevertheless, she spoke with a specific intention.
It was all to lay the groundwork, to garner viewer engagement and immersion.
[?]
[????]
[??]
[That’s you]
[<<<<<< You’re the one]
[??]
[Where’s your conscience?]
“While I may do such things, others should not.”
As expected, the chat window was immediately flooded with laughter and question marks.
Kim Sung-jin, suppressing a laugh, observed their reactions.
All these actions were intended to create a ‘narrative.’
Simply steamrolling weaker players wasn’t good for broadcasting or for the streamer’s image.
Thus, she crafted a story by weaving an amusing tale between herself and her opponent.
[^______^]: Actually, I’m here on a commission.
[Dying HP Identifier]: ??
[^______^]: The person who lost six times asked me to take down the host on their behalf.
. . .
[Dying HP Identifier]: I said only polite people should join, but…
. . .
[Dying HP Identifier]: There are no normal people here, I see….
“Their typing is quite slow. Are they an elder?”
Naturally, both the opponent and the viewers knew Kim Sung-jin was spouting nonsense.
Nevertheless, by injecting the keyword ‘revenge’ into the situation, she provided the viewers with a justification for her ‘steamrolling.’
What if, in this state, she were to use a peculiar build to toy with her opponent?
From experience, she was certain it would elicit an enthusiastic response.
[Dying HP Identifier]: Aren’t you going to choose a race?
[^______^]: I’m a random player. I’m good with all three races.
[Dying HP Identifier]: You’ll regret it….
[^______^]: Shouldn’t the host, who tormented an innocent person six times, be the one to regret it?
. . .
[Dying HP Identifier]: Hmm…. I don’t mind, but if you ask for a rematch after losing, will you do it politely with your hands clasped, okay?
[^______^]: Sounds good. Let’s go.
Although the opponent didn’t know she was broadcasting, they certainly had a knack for entertainment.
The reactions from the opponent, even through the screen, were delightful.
It wasn’t just Kim Sung-jin who felt this way, as several comments filled with anticipation appeared in the chat window.
Five seconds passed, and the game began.
Kim Sung-jin’s race was Undead.
Although she drew Undead, her weakest of the three races, facing an amateur presented no significant challenge.
Kim Sung-jin racked her brain, assessing her advantages.
The race she had chosen was random, not fixed. Her opponent was unaware of her race.
Moreover, the opponent had chosen Human, a race weak in the early game.
Psychologically, they would be forced to focus on defense in the very early stages.
Therefore, she decided to ‘fast expand’ (TL Note: A strategy in real-time strategy games where a player prioritizes expanding their economy early, often at the cost of early military units, hoping to gain a long-term resource advantage).
“Undead it is. Shall we just casually take two expansions to start?”
And in less than ten minutes.
Kim Sung-jin found herself with no choice but to politely clasp her hands and request a rematch from her opponent.
****
Playing the game with five fingers offered a level of comfort that transcended her previous experiences.
The keyboard was not the issue.
It was the mouse. The stability of controlling it had improved to an unbelievable degree.
“Had people in this world always taken something like this for granted…?”
She couldn’t help but utter such a foolish remark.
With her thumb and pinky supporting the mouse, precise control felt incredibly effortless.
Even though she wasn’t yet accustomed to it, the difference was strikingly apparent.
If this was the case, how much more comfortable would it be once she was fully accustomed?
Despite her hands being smaller, the reach of her fingers across the keyboard had, surprisingly, significantly increased.
Pinpointing a single desired unit from a clustered group with her cursor no longer felt difficult.
She realized anew how enormous a weight she had been carrying on her shoulders throughout her life.
Could this be akin to the profound emotion one feels when wings are given to a bird born without them?
To that extent, the world appeared different.
The more she played, the more she felt the awkwardness gradually fade, making it impossible to stop.
This was already the sixth match.
And it, too, was already reaching its conclusion.
[IWantToDate]: No.
[IWantToDate]: Ugh…
[IWantToDate]: Seriously, you’re damn good.
. . .
[Dying HP Identifier]: It’s illegal for players under 2000 points to use Ancient Dragons… didn’t you know?
[IWantToDate]: F***, you’re a slow-typing old man, yet…
[IWantToDate]: You’re genuinely, truly infuriating with your constant nagging.
. . .
[Dying HP Identifier]: Oh dear… when you’re angry, just look at your main base.
[IWantToDate]: ?
. . .
[Dying HP Identifier]: Wouldn’t the Lizardman workers, being slaughtered after meeting such a sinful master, be even angrier?
[IWantToDate]: You motherf***er.
. . .
[Dying HP Identifier]: Usually, after being hit 5 times, one would learn… Is the host’s real-life race Undead, perhaps?
[IWantToDate]: Get lost, you impotent bastard.
– IWantToDate has left the game.
“How did they know I’m impotent…?”
I glanced down, but the familiar heavy presence was gone.
I hadn’t dared to look inside yet, too afraid to confront it….
Now, I would never again see my ‘reliable friend.’
I went to the private room lobby and searched, but the user with the nickname ‘IWantToDate’—
—a nickname that evoked a strange sense of kinship—was no longer creating rooms.
In the end, the toy was broken.
“Leaving without even saying ‘GG.’ How rude.”
So, this time, I decided to create the room myself.
Hoping that a polite person would join, I titled the room accordingly and waited.
Before long, someone entered.
Their nickname was an emoticon made of special characters.
“A fresh account? Hmm….”
A fresh account (TL Note: ‘kkang-gye’ refers to a newly created game account with a record of 0 wins and 0 losses) meant an account with a record of 0 wins and 0 losses, freshly made.
Having realized her skill had improved since the last victim, a mediocre player would no longer satisfy her.
Nevertheless, with the feeling of scratching a lottery ticket, she did not kick them out.
However, the new entrant’s chat was unusual.
They adopted a bizarre concept, then chose a random race, didn’t they?
Considering that players usually specialize in only one race, choosing random was a provocation, implying they could still defeat someone like her even if they got a secondary race.
Her lips twitched.
As she was still clumsy at typing, she diligently used all five fingers to slowly compose her chat message.
While using only her familiar three fingers would have been much faster, her top priority now was rehabilitation.
She needed to remain faithful to her goal, even if it meant being mistaken for an elderly person unfamiliar with the keyboard, as had just happened.
“How interesting….”
The game start button was pressed.
Beep—. Beep—. The 5-second countdown timer dwindled with each sound.
Feeling a surge of eagerness, she heightened her concentration.
In-game.
My position was at 11 o’clock on the minimap.
First, I produced workers from the Grand Courthouse, the main Human building.
Immediately, I assigned four Dwarf workers, the basic laborers, to separate Aether mines.
– What are your commands?
The gruff-voiced Dwarves immediately grabbed their pickaxes and rushed to the various exposed mines, beginning to excavate Aether.
At this point, players needed to distribute the four workers given at the start of the game without overlapping them.
This was because only one person could mine from a single mine, so distributing them was necessary for more efficient Aether collection.
‘Indeed. Dividing workers is so easy.’
It was unlike the past, when I would repeatedly make click errors.
Successfully dividing all four workers precisely, I began collecting resources without any wasted movements.
Aether was the most fundamental resource in Triarchia.
It was one of two resources required to produce units and construct buildings.
While the time to extract rare resources from Illusium Extractors would come after the mid-game, that was still a distant prospect.
Continuously producing Dwarves from the Grand Courthouse, I constructed a Food Storage around the time the eighth Dwarf emerged.
The population cap was precisely broken just before it would have halted worker production.
Up to this point, it was standard procedure.
From here, the build orders diverge.
[^______^]: Shall I tell you my race?
. . .
[Dying HP Identifier]: You’re not going to tell me anyway.
[^______^]: How did you know?
[Dying HP Identifier]: Stop talking to me, it’s tiring.
[^______^]: I’ll let that slide out of consideration for my elders~
“Elders, my foot….”
Since I didn’t know the opponent’s race, a ‘naked double’ (TL Note: A strategy where a player expands to a second base very early without significant military production, making them vulnerable to early attacks) directly to the natural expansion was out of the question.
Thus, when I had gathered about 150 gold, I built a basic Barracks.
My mindset was that if I could just safely get through the early game, I wouldn’t lose.
‘I’ll construct an Illusium Extractor too….’
Although it was a bit early, I sent one Dwarf worker to scout.
Scouting. Also known as ‘search.’
It was an almost essential process for identifying the opponent’s location, race, and build order.
To narrow the information asymmetry between myself and my opponent, which was crucial for determining a clear build order, I scouted earlier than standard.
‘Starting with the center.’
Just in case, I first sent the scout to the very center of the minimap.
In private rooms, it wasn’t uncommon for players to adopt a ‘free win’ (TL Note: A strategy focused on achieving a quick, easy win, often through unconventional or ‘cheesy’ tactics) mentality, building military production structures in the center to go all-in during the very early game.
However, there were no buildings in the center.
This meant it wasn’t a ‘free win’ build.
I immediately redirected the Dwarf to head towards 1 o’clock.
The worker who had gone down was now heading up again.
Just then, something poked its head above my natural expansion.
[^______^]: Yo.
A dilapidated, broken ship floating proudly in the sky.
It was an Undead Ghost Ship.
Uniquely, the Undead race did not increase its population capacity with buildings, but rather by producing these Ghost Ships—units with no attack capabilities—which served as population structures.
Typically, the initial Ghost Ship provided is used for scouting.
Though it moved very slowly, its airborne nature meant it was rarely caught.
“So, it was Undead.”
Judging by the direction the Ghost Ship flew from, the enemy’s position was confirmed to be at 1 o’clock.
A direct, horizontal line from my position.
Fortunately, I had succeeded in locating the opponent’s position with just my first scout.
The situation was even, as the opponent had also found me with their first scout.
The Dwarf worker continued to advance towards 1 o’clock, heading for the enemy’s main base.
In the natural expansion, strange magic circles were performing a ritual around the corpses of Skeletons.
Could this be a ’12-expansion’ (TL Note: A common Undead build order that involves expanding to the natural base after producing 12 units or reaching a certain population count), one of the standard Undead build orders?
However, that expectation was completely shattered upon entering the enemy’s main base.
[Dying HP Identifier]: ?
Despite more than two minutes having passed since the game began, the enemy’s main base had no means whatsoever of producing military units.
Even at the latest ’12-expansion’ timing, the tech tree should normally be advancing by now.
This could only mean one thing.
Fast three expansions.
The opponent was practically lying down, begging me to ‘fast expand’ (TL Note: A strategy in real-time strategy games where a player prioritizes expanding their economy early, often at the cost of early military units, hoping to gain a long-term resource advantage) on them.
