“It’s peculiar how every woman, be they a small business owner or a part-timer, seems to possess such striking beauty.”
‘Could it be that a terrifying secret lies dormant, one where establishments lacking such beauty silently vanished, adhering to the principles of natural selection?’
A shiver ran down my spine, as if I could hear the desperate cries of dozens of ruined businesses.
If that were the case, the shop I had just visited was undoubtedly destined for great success.
I couldn’t discern if she had mastered the [Art of Disguise (易容의 술): Makeup (化粧)] (TL Note: A martial arts concept referring to changing one’s appearance, here humorously applied to makeup) of the modern martial world, or if she was simply born with a talent capable of plunging a thousand of her own gender into despair.
The proprietress I had just seen was, indeed, a beauty of rare caliber.
‘It would be impolite to visit too frequently.’
Her vibrant beauty was enough to make a three-fingered individual, who had endured a turbulent school life, too nervous to even attempt a conversation.
It was clear that if such a captivating owner ran the shop all day, male customers would undoubtedly flock there in droves.
Regardless, I had secured a means to maintain my blood nicotine levels.
So, what was next on the agenda?
Naturally, it was to eat a late lunch and then resume my practice.
With the meal set before me, I gazed at it silently for a long moment.
Though it might have been premature, a subtle thrill stirred within a corner of my heart.
Having grown remarkably accustomed to using my fingers throughout the morning,
I wondered if I might now be able to wield chopsticks with similar ease.
Yielding to the excitement that spurred my body, I reached out for the tableware.
“……”
Alas, the barrier of chopstick mastery proved both high and formidable.
A haughty pair of iron sticks, they would never permit themselves to be wielded with grace after a mere half-day of attempted taming.
Faced with such an obstacle, I had no choice but to succumb to frustration.
****
Kim Sung-jin, as if utterly unacquainted with defeat, was smoothly accumulating a string of victories during her broadcast that day.
Her hands, now completely limber, effortlessly showcased the prowess befitting a former professional.
Already, she had personally inflicted fifteen humiliating defeats upon her adversaries.
Many a master had dared to challenge her in a duel, hoping to halt her advance, which was akin to that of an unrivaled general.
Yet, their fates invariably converged to the same conclusion.
[^______^] – [Korea] Custom Game — Wins 15, Losses 0, Disconnects 0
Even this seemingly unblemished iron fortress, however, was not entirely free of stains.
Earlier that morning, when Kim Sung-jin had just proclaimed her intention to venture into the ‘jianghu’ (TL Note: A term from wuxia novels referring to the martial world, here used metaphorically for online gaming’s private rooms) of private rooms.
Concealing her name and face, this former super-master had confidently believed she could effortlessly toy with the burgeoning talents of the jianghu.
Yet, as it was said, the jianghu was vast, and full of extraordinary individuals.
As she let out an ugly laugh, anticipating the pleasure of showcasing her prowess to countless rising talents and planting seeds of inner demons within them, an enigmatic recluse suddenly appeared before her.
This hidden master, with a graceful illusionary sword (幻검), had deceived her eyes and poised a sharp blade at her throat.
Ultimately, an indelible mark had been etched into Kim Sung-jin’s heart.
The inability to directly confront her opponent in this online ‘bimu’ (TL Note: A martial arts duel) proved to be a formidable hidden obstacle.
Indeed, there was an old adage in the martial world to be wary of women and children; perhaps had Kim Sung-jin actually glimpsed the recluse’s true form, she might have exercised greater caution.
In truth, reality was not the martial world, and there were indeed some ambiguous aspects to deeming her strictly a ‘woman’ or ‘child.’
Nevertheless, if one squinted their eyes just so, Yoo Seo-ha vaguely fit the aforementioned criteria, making the statement not entirely inaccurate.
“And just like that, another ‘GG’ emerges.”
[ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
[F*ck, why did they lose to that << Best GG]
[High praise ㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
[So funny ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
[It’s seriously hilarious that they actually believed it later ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
“Let us release this individual now. Let’s seek out another opponent.”
Yet another victim, having been thoroughly toyed with by Kim Sung-jin,
ultimately found themselves questioning the very Triarkia build concept they had meticulously cultivated over time, pondering, ‘Perhaps constructing a double cathedral in the main base isn’t such a bad build after all?’
Having fallen repeatedly for her absurd, ‘entertainment’ builds, they had succumbed to ‘simma’ (TL Note: A Buddhist term for inner demons or mental obstacles, here referring to a state of mental disarray caused by frustration).
Kim Sung-jin, meanwhile, paid no heed to her opponent’s plight.
Having now erected a towering edifice of sixteen consecutive victories, Kim Sung-jin began her search for the next victim.
An familiar title then caught her eye.
[A polite game without insults ^^. Host: Human / Experts only]
“Oh!! This!”
Driven by instinct, she swiftly clicked and entered the room.
And indeed.
The host’s ID was none other than the one she could never forget.
[Oh]
[Found it!!]
[Oh ㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
[Time for revenge]
[Bring it on ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
Low HP Detector.
Though they had seized the opportunity to mar Kim Sung-jin’s otherwise pristine record with a defeat,
They were a user who had abruptly vanished, seemingly unconcerned with the outcome of victory or defeat.
“I’ve finally found you! I truly thought I wouldn’t be able to track you down today!”
Confronted with an opportunity to erase her prior humiliation, Kim Sung-jin felt a surge of excitement.
She was confident she would no longer fall prey to the deceptive tactics that had so playfully toyed with her before.
Thus, she yearned to proudly claim her opponent’s head and repay the contempt she had suffered that early morning, manifold.
Collecting the mission money, which had swelled to 100,000 won, also served as a powerful motivator.
[Low HP Detector]: Hi
[^______^]: Hello, host.
[Low HP Detector]: What race are you??
[^______^]: I’ll play Dragonkin.
Judging by the former pro’s keen eye, her opponent possessed an unusual level of skill.
Playing Undead, the weakest of the three races, carried the risk of another potential defeat.
However, her pride simply wouldn’t permit her to immediately select her main race, Human.
Consider this: her opponent didn’t even seem to recall her.
The fact that she had failed to leave any distinct impression on the victor, despite her defeat, filled her with a profound sense of humiliation.
Perhaps even more so than the direct taunts she had endured during her initial defeat.
Thus, her heart had no choice but to vehemently reject the impulse to select ‘Human’ as her race.
The race she ultimately settled on, a compromise with herself, was Dragonkin.
There was a chance she might be kicked from the room if her opponent realized they had played together that morning.
To avert such a potential disaster, Kim Sung-jin quietly remained silent, awaiting the game’s commencement.
Beep—. Beep—.
Without a word, her opponent immediately initiated the game.
As a mechanical tone sounded, a five-second timer counted down, ushering them into the game.
With her workers skillfully assigned, she had a brief moment of respite.
Having now entered the battlefield, she had effectively cut off any escape routes, even if she were to reveal her identity.
Thus, she openly disclosed the ill-fated connection that bound her to her opponent.
[^______^]: Host, by any chance,
[^______^]: Do you remember me?
[Low HP Detector]: ?
[^______^]: We met once this morning.
[^______^]: I was Undead.
[^______^]: You know, when you pulled that Supreme Court trick at my natural expansion.
[Low HP Detector]: Ah.
Only then did her opponent seem to recall her.
Kim Sung-jin smiled, then continued her chat.
[^______^]: You know that best of three is the national rule, right?
[^______^]: I’m coming for revenge.
.
.
.
[Low HP Detector]: But you’re not going random this time?
[Low HP Detector]: Dragonkin is your main?
[^______^]: That’s right.
[^______^]: It won’t be easy this time.
She had abandoned all the ‘entertainment’ builds she typically favored.
Her intention was to operate conventionally in the early game, and only after securing a favorable position, would she unleash her full vengeance.
As if sensing their master’s renewed determination, the Lizardman workers diligently mined aether from the quarry, steadily accumulating it.
[Low HP Detector]: Well… saying Undead was your main didn’t make sense.
[^______^]: ??
.
.
[Low HP Detector]: You weren’t very good.
.
.
[Low HP Detector]: If that’s your main’s skill, then there’s a problem.
.
.
[Low HP Detector]: So it’s a sub-race, that makes sense.
[ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
[I’m dying ㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
[??: Siri’s Undead is subpar]
[This is seriously f*cking humiliating ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
Regardless of the chat window being flooded with laughter, Kim Sung-jin found herself considerably provoked.
Admittedly, as her opponent had stated, Undead was not her primary race.
Yet, the venomous implication embedded in those words struck Kim Sung-jin deep in her chest.
‘You’re terrible at Undead, aren’t you?’
As a seasoned gamer, she held an official professional license for the Triarkia Pro League.
Naturally, she had devoted her entire youth to Triarkia.
No professional, when subjected to such treatment by an amateur, could possibly remain unprovoked.
[^______^]: Heh heh.
[^______^]: We’ll see about that.
.
.
[Low HP Detector]: Promise not to collapse with just a poke this time.
[^______^]: ??
[Low HP Detector]: Promise.
She conceded deep within her heart.
Her opponent was a master at getting under people’s skin.
Even Kim Sung-jin, despite being widely regarded as possessing a naturally gentle disposition, felt her temper begin to rise at those recent words.
[^______^]: Promise.
[Low HP Detector]: Good ㅎㅎ
She vowed to defeat that individual, no matter the cost.
An intense earnestness, akin to one preparing for a grand tournament, swelled within her chest.
Kim Sung-jin first directed a Lizardman worker to construct a Humidity Regulator.
This was due to the Dragonkin’s unique conceptual vulnerability: their reptilian skin made them highly susceptible to humidity, thus restricting their construction of buildings solely to the vicinity of Humidity Regulators, which also boosted their population capacity.
Next, she erected a Warrior Residence to produce ‘Dragon Tooth Soldiers,’ the Dragonkin’s fundamental combat unit.
She then sent the worker who had completed the building to scout.
Rather than bolstering her early-game strength with a second Warrior Residence, she intended to advance to the next tech tier, aiming for a longer game.
Consequently, she delayed her scouting timing slightly.
– Anonymous User Sponsored 1,000 Won!
[Guess opponent’s location for 5,000 won]
“Given my starting position is 1 o’clock… I’ll choose 5 o’clock.”
Watching her Lizardman worker descend the map, she silently hoped for success on her initial scout.
However, her expectations were betrayed.
Just in case, she sent her worker deep into what should have been the main base, only to find the 5 o’clock position utterly barren.
“The mission has failed…”
She immediately redirected her worker toward the 7 o’clock position, stating.
By then, her first Dragon Tooth Soldier had emerged, which she used to block the entrance to her main base.
She did not produce a second.
Instead, she immediately proceeded to construct a Drake Citadel and an Illusium Extractor in quick succession.
Dragon Tooth Soldiers for melee combat, and Drakes for ranged attacks.
These two units constituted the core of the Dragonkin’s combat forces.
Though each consumed two population points, these costly units more than justified their expense.
They were consistently deployed as the primary combat force, from the early stages to the late game.
As she meticulously refined her main base, the Lizardman finally arrived at the natural expansion at 7 o’clock.
A massive structure already stood firmly established within that expansion.
“Ah! This is disastrous.”
Fast Double.
Her opponent had audaciously foregone producing Elf Archers, opting instead to immediately establish a second base.
The critical issues were that Kim Sung-jin’s current build was ill-suited for an early offensive,
and the two main bases were situated diagonally across the map, at the furthest possible distance from each other.
Given such a vast distance, any offensive she launched would inevitably grant her opponent a comparatively ample window for preparation.
[^______^]: Diagonal Fast Double.
[^______^]: You have no conscience.
.
.
[Low HP Detector]: It was diagonal? Didn’t even scout, so I didn’t know ㅎㅎ
Kim Sung-jin was rendered speechless.
She found it unbelievable that her opponent hadn’t even bothered to scout.
This implied that her opponent had one more worker mining aether in their main base than Kim Sung-jin did,
signifying a resource disparity far greater than she had anticipated.
[^______^]: Does that even make sense?
[^______^]: What are you relying on to be so greedy???
.
.
[Low HP Detector]: Did you go for a no-graveyard, three-temple build because you had something to rely on?
[^______^]: My hands.
.
.
[Low HP Detector]: That’s a misguided faith…
[ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
[I’m dying ㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
[Wow ㅋㅋㅋ that build got completely countered]
[It’s very disadvantageous]
[Seriously, it’s already 7:3]
[Really, two consecutive losses?? ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
[No way ㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
Her mouth snapped shut, as if the cat had gotten her tongue.
After all, she herself had a history of playing even greedier builds.
The situation was undeniably dire.
Her opponent’s natural expansion was already halfway operational, and once their production infrastructure was fully established, a flood of units would inevitably erupt.
During that brief reprieve, she had to inflict as much damage as possible before bracing herself to repel the inevitable assault.
Typically, when such a significant disparity emerged between players of equal skill, defeat would be a foregone conclusion.
“I haven’t lost yet. If I can just fend off their timing rush, there’s still a possibility.”
Kim Sung-jin had, on countless occasions, turned the tide in games far more disadvantageous than this.
She harbored not the slightest intention of yielding so easily.
If she could ultimately draw the game into a macro battle, her robust understanding of operational concepts would be more than sufficient to turn the tide.
She would, without fail, exact her revenge upon her opponent.
Flames of determination ignited in Kim Sung-jin’s eyes, eyes that were usually so docile.
