Chapter 8: The Monster Rookie

Kanghyuk stared, spellbound, as his character Tsubaki’s body scattered like cherry blossom petals.

Defeat.

‘That filthy cheater bastard…’

His face burned with anger and shame.

[ROUND 3. FIGHT!]

Although the third round had begun, Kanghyuk had no intention of continuing the game.

“I’m not playing this disgusting game with you, you bastard.”

Muttering a low curse from inside the capsule, he immediately pressed the [Force Quit Game] button.

There was nothing to gain from dealing with a cheater any longer.

****

Lee Jihyeon gazed for a moment at Tsubaki, who stood motionless.

Even after the third round began, her opponent remained utterly still.

[Moomyeong: Hello?]

[Moomyeong: Are you going to use that skill again?]

Lee Jihyeon typed a message in the chat, but no reply came.

Only then did she notice a small icon next to her opponent’s ID, signifying a disconnected player.

‘…They logged out.’

Lee Jihyeon was dumbfounded. To quit the game simply because they lost one round was absurd. It was such a pathetic exit, rendering their impressive earlier gameplay utterly meaningless.

“Just for losing once… Tsk.”

Clicking her tongue, Lee Jihyeon approached Tsubaki’s stationary avatar and executed a grapple.

Grab! Slam!

[KO]

[WIN! -Kagero]

A victory message appeared, and Kagero uttered her victory line.

“…In the end, your blade cut nothing.”

Returning to the lobby, Lee Jihyeon did not immediately queue for another ranked match.

She quietly replayed the recent battle in her mind, soberly assessing her own performance.

‘I won, but it was pure luck.’

The defeat in the first round was a clear indicator of a skill gap.

Completely unfamiliar with her opponent’s character skills, she had been utterly helpless against the evasion-counter skill, [Secret Blossom].

Had her opponent used that skill again in the second round, the outcome might have been different.

‘I’m still clumsy with the controls.’

The only offensive techniques she could reliably use were [Flash Strike], which began with a parry, the ultimate skill [Ephemeral Dream], and basic grapples.

She hadn’t even attempted the myriad combo attacks and situational counter-skills, simply because she didn’t know their commands.

The [Transcendence] she had gained as a reincarnation privilege.

While it granted her divine reflexes beyond human limits, it did not bestow upon her game knowledge or intuition.

She possessed overwhelming hardware, but woefully lacked the software to utilize it properly.

‘…I need to start with the basics.’

At present, her talent was merely half-formed.

Lee Jihyeon made up her mind. She closed the ranked match menu and headed directly to the place she had skipped when first starting the game.

[Would you like to start the Kagero Character Guide Tutorial?]

“Yes.”

This was her path to gradually and perfectly mastering even the most fundamental aspects.

****

“What the hell? Why haven’t they been banned?”

Even after completing Tsubaki’s placement matches, Kanghyuk was still staring at the system message window.

Usually, when a user reported a cheater, a satisfying message would soon appear: [The reported player has been permanently banned for using illegal programs.]

Yet, an hour had passed with no news.

This was strange.

Kanghyuk, who had made a name for himself through his professional career and various public activities, had deep connections with Spear Games, the developers of DBP.

Thanks to this, reports submitted from his account were usually prioritized over those from regular users.

For there to be no news despite this was baffling.

‘Is it a holiday today?’

That couldn’t be.

Even if the entire development company were on holiday, their proprietary AI, designed to detect illegal programs, operated 24/7, punishing reported offenders.

‘I have to catch that cheater.’

That ridiculous parrying—if such malicious users were left unchecked, the entire game ecosystem would collapse.

Feeling frustrated, Kanghyuk stepped out of his VR capsule.

He picked up his smartphone and made a call.

The phone rang only a few times before the other party answered.

[Oh, Hyuk. What’s up?]

It was Gong Jiseop, the general director of Spear Games. They had become close after meeting at official events, and now he was a good older brother figure whom Kanghyuk met casually even outside of work.

“Hyung (TL Note: A Korean term used by a male to address an older male friend or brother.), I just encountered a cheater in ranked play and reported them, but why hasn’t it been processed?”

[A cheater? Hold on, what’s the ID?]

“Moomyeong. The character was Kagero.”

[Moomyeong, huh… There are so many like that. Hold on a moment, I’ll check the report history.]

The sound of typing briefly echoed from the other end of the line.

Soon, Gong Jiseop replied with a voice that sounded utterly bewildered.

[Hey, I checked, and it’s not a cheat.]

“What?”

[There are no traces of anything being used. It’s clean.]

Kanghyuk unconsciously raised his voice.

“That’s impossible! That bastard performed an aerial parry with Kagero! Are you saying that’s not a cheat?”

At his agitated reaction, Gong Jiseop’s tone shifted.

It was a voice laced with intrigue and a hint of playfulness.

[…Hold on. What did you just say? Kagero, aerial parry?]

“Yes! That’s why I’m telling you they’re a cheater!”

[…]

Silence hung on the line.

A moment later, Gong Jiseop replied with a chortle.

[Hey, Hyuk.]

“What is it?”

[That’s not a cheat.]

“No, Hyung! You don’t believe me?”

[No, it’s not that I don’t believe you… it’s that I can’t believe my own eyes, man.]

Gong Jiseop spoke as if he found it utterly hilarious.

[Looking at the log records, it just seems like the input values were perfectly matched. You know, what people call ‘physicality.’ It just… seems like pure skill?]

At his words, Kanghyuk’s mind went completely blank.

‘That was skill?’

In an instant, the recent battle flashed before his eyes like a rapidly unwinding scroll.

Clumsy movements, awkward attack timings, a lack of game understanding—everything about them screamed amateur.

‘But that parry alone was genuine?’

Everything else was dismal, but there was one exception.

The reaction speed with which they deflected their opponent’s attacks was on a completely different level from any player he had ever encountered.

A shiver ran down Kanghyuk’s spine.

If that truly wasn’t a cheat but pure physicality, it meant their reflexes alone were vastly superior to his own.

[Hyuk? Are you listening?]

“Ah, yes, Hyung.”

Kanghyuk barely managed to collect himself and reply.

[Anyway, it’s not a cheat, so rest easy. Isn’t it a good thing for such a monster rookie to appear? This is going to be interesting.]

“I understand. Thanks for checking, Hyung. See you later.”

[Yeah, alright.]

Kanghyuk ended the call.

For a time, he stared blankly into the air. His heart pounded wildly, and his palms grew damp with sweat.

A mixture of fear of the unknown powerhouse and the thrill of wanting to face them again simultaneously enveloped his entire being.

“This is no time for this!”

In that instant, the instincts of a pro gamer and a top-tier streamer flashed through his mind.

This was an opportunity.

An unknown beginner displaying overwhelming parrying skill against Korea’s number one ranked player?

There was no more sensational content material than this.

‘I have to catch them. No matter what!’

Kanghyuk hastily scrambled back into his personal VR capsule and accessed his recent match history.

Fortunately, the log of his most recent match was still at the top.

With trembling hands, he clicked on Moomyeong’s ID and pressed the [Add Friend] button.

[The opponent is currently offline or has declined friend requests.]

“Damn it!”

Kanghyuk’s brow furrowed as he read the system message.

While they could simply be offline, he had an ominous feeling that it was the latter.

“So they’re refusing, huh?”

He let out a hollow laugh.

He had hoped to become friends, ask them a few things, and perhaps even coax them into participating in a ‘Monster Rookie Interview’ content segment.

But with them putting up such a strong wall, there was nothing he could do.

‘Well, fine.’

However, Kanghyuk was not one to give up easily.

“Heh heh, I still need to get some content out of this. I can’t let this slide.”

He grinned, then downloaded the replay video of his match with Moomyeong from his recent match history.

The plan was to first turn on his stream, reveal this shocking video to his viewers, and drop hints about this unknown talent.

That alone guaranteed the success of today’s broadcast.

As soon as the broadcast began, viewers who had been waiting for Gwangma’s (TL Note: Kanghyuk’s streamer nickname, meaning ‘Crazy Horse’ or ‘Mad Demon’.) live stream poured in like a wave.

In an instant, the number of viewers surpassed several thousand, and the chat window scrolled too fast to read.

[Tsubaki so hot~ lol]

[Hyuk-ham, welcome.]

[Are we going for a clear-to-the-Transcendent today?]

Kanghyuk leisurely responded to the flood of greetings and donations, warming up the broadcast atmosphere.

“Alright, alright, welcome everyone. As you can see, today’s content features the new character Tsubaki. We have to hit the ranked ladder.”

He brought up his ranked match screen.

“I’ve already finished the placement matches cleanly, and I’m currently Platinum Tier 4. Let’s see how far we can go today.”

Kanghyuk deliberately did not play the replay video immediately.

He wanted to slowly build anticipation, making the viewers curious first. This was a top-tier streamer’s skill at ‘pre-heating the pan’ (TL Note: A Korean idiom referring to building suspense or excitement before the main event).

He skillfully stalled for time, engaging in various small talk.

And finally, the chat messages he had been waiting for began to appear.

[Wait, why is his record 9 wins and 1 loss?]

[Huh? Hyuk-ham lost in placements?]

[Who did he lose to? Did he meet a ranker’s alt account?]

[I can’t even imagine Gwangma-ham losing…]

‘They bit.’

Kanghyuk flashed a triumphant smile, then, as if on cue, adopted a serious expression.

“Ah… about that. Ha, I really have a lot to say.”

His feigned seriousness made the chat’s curiosity explode.

“No, I genuinely thought they were a cheater, you know? So I reported them right after it ended, but…”

Kanghyuk drew the viewers’ attention, then displayed the downloaded replay video on the screen.

“Alright, everyone, open your eyes wide and see for yourselves. You tell me if this play makes any sense.”