Chapter 41

“Timely Victory!”

“Ah!”

“Is that a big move????”

“It seems like you’re watching this match live.”

“I’ll tell my grandchildren in the future… My greatest achievement in life was watching the first-ever match between Sol and Victory live.”

“Legend is coming!!!”

“Suddenly, my chest swells with pride.”

“How many games has he played that Victory could be defeated? Haha.”

“Has this person even played 100 hours?”

“Less than 100 hours – Rookie vs Teama!”

“Is talent something we’re witnessing here?”

“She’s Korean.”

“Does Victory fear Sol’s growth?”

The chat window was heating up fiercely.

Ninety thousand viewers… it feels strange.

Experiencing this much attention from so many people, most people probably won’t get the chance to, probably never in their entire lives.

“Maybe… being good at games is actually something impressive?”

My heart was racing a little.

Back then…

I was certain.

I thought I was someone who was really good at games.

But I never thought about achieving anything with it.

I just enjoyed being completely absorbed in the game, purely for the joy of it.

The empty house.

The void of time.

Swallowing loneliness.

When studying hard to be the perfect son became suffocating.

Escaping by indulging in things a model student wouldn’t do.

Sometimes I would indulge in the rebellion of playing games.

Could this be something that could earn the admiration of so many people?

Thump thump.

My heart keeps racing.

—

“Maybe I just want to win even more this way.”

[Supporter “1FrontRowFan” donated 10,000 won.]

—”This is such an iconic first match with Victory; could you open your personal screen instead of just spectating?”

“Does it feel okay for everyone, even though it might be dizzying?”

The desire to have others watch my play and feel admiration had somehow taken root and started to grow.

I didn’t realize this before starting the broadcast.

<go go go go go go go go go>

<no no no no no no no no>

“Still, this must be watched purely.”

“Can’t wait 3 minutes for the delay! Show it live!!!”

“Seriously, if I hear spoilers about the result, I’ll get mad.”

“You guys don’t know because you haven’t experienced it; you’ll throw up, I’m serious.”

“Viewers can turn on the separate game observer mode.”

“True, but the personal screen can only be watched here.”

“Let’s just watch live!”

“Taking seasickness pills first!”

“Whatever, let’s just brace through it!”

“Can anyone spectate the game?”

“In high-tier games, it shows up on the spectator site.”

That’s interesting.

There’s what I can show on my personal screen, and then there’s separate gameobserver mode that people can watch.

What to choose was obvious.

[Personal screen ON]

“Wow, really dizzy.”

“Haha, is this serious? Is this really how they’re playing the game?”

“Just different species of gamer, I guess lol.”

“But once combat starts, try to hang in there for a little while.”

“Hold onto your safety bar tightly!!! The screen is about to throw you out!!!”

“What ride is this?”

“It’s not a ride; it’s a torture device.”

Reactions like these were fascinating.

It might be a little fun.

Thump thump…

My heart keeps racing.

“One match, please play well.”

I greeted the invisible Victory, a message they couldn’t hear.

And now, the real game begins.

Teamfight Arena is a game that doesn’t let your thoughts rest for even a second from the start.

First, check the starting points of your five teammates.

Through that, you can also see the starting points of the enemy team.

Estimate which jungle area the opponents will group towards.

And plan strategically.

Consider how to level up and where to fight.

If an early engagement is needed, where and at what level you’ll join.

Perhaps it’s a bit like chess.

Where each player becomes a chess piece, with five pieces battling against five.

It’s as important to think about the route they take.

If necessary, ping.

If pings aren’t enough, then type out messages in chat.

This is Teamfight Arena.

Not a solo game.

A team.

Five people, all moving as one mind, to secure victory.

While not letting up on farming,

I rapidly ping the map to coordinate.

“The first power struggle point will be… .”

On the Hero’s Arena map, there are countless jungle areas.

With only five team members, you can’t control all of them.

As a result, in lower tiers, there’s this “illusion” that you can farm wherever.

Of course, that’s nonsense.

The team that levels up faster from the “nearest jungle” gets the advantage.

It’s such a simple concept, isn’t it?

I can’t understand how anyone wouldn’t know that.

“Time is also a resource.”

The principles of reality directly apply here.

That’s why fights happen over controlling jungle spots.

“Our early-game team is stronger. We don’t need to give up the Dragon’s Nest.”

After estimating the number of enemies we’ll face, I visualize the combinations and matchups when they converge.

At first, I was upset that it’d take so many matches to reach the ranked level of 30.

But looking at it now, after fully dedicating myself to ranked games, it seems that number of matches was necessary.

To understand the game.

To meet many champions, understand their abilities and synergies.

Because the experiences I’ve gathered allow me to make the right decisions.

“Regardless of the combination, with three of us, we should be fine. We can win.”

Time is a resource, and there’s a cost to moving too far.

Thus, 5v5 fights aren’t always the best solution.

If too many team members cluster together, it’s inefficient movement.

Too few and you risk losing in combat.

It’s an intricate game of strategic thinking. That’s what Teamfight Arena is.

Three enemies gathered at the Dragon’s Nest.

Three of our teammates also arrived.

We have a slight advantage in synergy.

But there’s still no room for complacency.

Thump thump.

My heart is racing fiercely.

The synergy advantage is so delicate that mishandling a skill or single movement can tip the scales against us.

If I were one to play it safe, I might have conceded the Dragon’s Nest to look for a better opportunity.

Thump thump.

But honestly, my body leans toward the thrill of combat.

The more intense, the more exciting.

Today, I feel particularly focused.

Thump thump.

My ally on a wolf mount races toward their enemies.

I sync with their pace.

Alone, exposed to enemies, even the sturdy rider wouldn’t last long.

My barbarian also falls into step, understanding my intentions.

Facing the enemy lines: A spearman blocks the front. A sturdy ally, able to take some damage.

Behind him is a swordsman, my greatest rival, Victory.

I’ll have to keep an eye on that guy’s actions.

If I can kill the marksman at the back, that would be ideal.

At the very least, I need to intimidate him to stop him from firing arrows at us.

The battle between the wolf rider and spearman, as well as the fight between the barbarian and swordsman.

Each side cautiously uses their control abilities.

Everyone’s still in a position where they could survive and retreat.

We exchange skills and auto-attacks, gauging each other.

You, will you step in?

Me, should I step in?

It might look like clumsy posturing, but…

It’s actually a tense standoff where you can’t let your guard down for even a second.

A single missed skill or bad movement, and we’re ready to rip each other apart.

‘Now.’

The marksman’s movement was a little clumsy.

Of course, it’s scary.

The barbarian, the wolf rider, the illusionist—they all seem focused on just him.

But he shouldn’t stray too far.

That’d leave a two-second gap before we could engage in combat.

I dashed forward with “blink,” then unleashed a flurry of skills, wiping out the spearman’s health.

Even though the spearman’s spinning attack absorbed some damage, he cannot withstand the combined attack of three of us.

He has no choice but to use his blink to retreat.

The swordsman steps in front to block our pursuing allies.

At a glance, it seems like we’ve gained a numerical advantage, but, upon further thought, we’re not actually in a better position.

‘Our skills are used up, while their marksman still has his skills intact. Let’s pull back after this exchange.’

I clicked a retreat ping to convey that message.

We don’t have to kill them.

Health is also a resource.

We can’t engage in combat with a spearman in this health state.

They will retreat too.

‘Don’t give Victory a chance to shine.’

Teamfight Arena is quite a delicate resource exchange game, but…

Frequent cheating happens within the game.

Unreasonable exchanges.

Those who are observant will understand…

‘If you avoid everything while always landing your attacks, it’s a one-sided damage exchange.’

Don’t give Victor that chance.

He’ll exploit it if given the opportunity.

Fortunately, his swordsman champion won’t be able to lead play properly until he learns his ultimate.

If we don’t engage, they won’t be able to force fights.

And just as we predicted, as soon as we slightly backed off, they fled like beaten soldiers.

“Pre-legend, victory!!!!”

“Bad engagement lost the fight.”

“Is the leader front-side blink-addicted?”

“Used it and got an advantage, though. Haha.”

“Why does it still look so confusing?”

“Of course, high-level players’ fights are beyond lower-level players’ comprehension…”

“Pushed Victory out of the fight.”

“Hmm… Is that all?”

“Why don’t they stop retreating? Aren’t they cowards?”

“Not every fight has to end in a direct clash, gay.”

“I’m just an observer, but damn, that play was great, wow.”

Half of the viewers understood, half didn’t.

Don’t get so excited; it’s not over yet.

Thump thump.

We’re still not at the stage where we can relax.

I need to quickly farm while preparing for the next battle.

“Yaral’s ON!”

“Ahh!”

“Shaking the screen again?”

“Is he addicted to shaking the screen?”

“Guess we’ll say he’s embarrassed after getting compliments.”

This is necessary gameplay.

Don’t misunderstand.

—

The heart still races.

The battle isn’t over yet.

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