A match in Apex Predator could feel long or short, but according to the developers and Icarus's motto, the design was intended to ensure that no game lasted longer than 30 minutes.

Considering that only one out of a hundred players could claim first place, unless the match was specifically arranged for content creation on platforms like YourSpace—where 99 players were deliberately recruited for a fast-paced, entertainment-focused game—the minimum duration typically ranged between 10 to 20 minutes.

Unless the scrim ended after just one or two rounds, the combined time of actual gameplay and debriefing usually exceeded 40 minutes.

Yujin was no exception to this rule.

<Q: How do you manage recoil control?>

"Shoot that gun as much as you can. Use it in missions, use it in PvP, and on every possible battlefield."

Of course, whether the content of a debriefing was led by the player's one-sided explanation or filled with endless questions depended on the individual's performance.

Nonetheless, the answer that came from her mouth was undoubtedly a textbook response. Practicing with a firearm to adapt to its recoil was the most obvious approach. But…

───!!

Considering that the question was asked while watching the replay of her emptying two 10-round magazines from an anti-materiel sniper rifle in just five seconds… it didn’t quite fit.

Regardless, it was a scene to remember—a spectacle that rarely occurred in regular games, let alone in a scrim where survival through terrain and positioning was of utmost importance.

It was the very embodiment of a VR FPS dream.

Although the CQ modification shortened the massive length typical of anti-materiel rifles, the ability to fire large rounds semi-automatically still maintained its essence.

And she didn’t just do this at a shooting range, but in a scrim, using the gun’s maximum physical potential to obliterate two Juggernauts.

The deafening roar of armor-piercing rounds smashing against walls, breaking into fragments. The two enemies caught in that storm were literally reduced to shattered polygons, and Yujin disappeared across the battlefield.

It was a private match, so this footage wouldn’t be shared outside, leaving everyone to keep it as a memory.

After that, things were straightforward. With the destruction of the two Juggernauts, the encirclement in her direction had a slight gap, meaning that only Yujin had this opening.

While others continued to engage in battles with each other and the Juggernauts, their numbers dwindling, Yujin had the luxury to regroup and prepare for the final fight.

Therefore, the outcome a few minutes later was predictable without even needing to explain.

She lured the Juggernauts to bury the last remaining enemy under a barrage of bullets and steel, securing first place.

"…That’s all."

Applause erupted, marking the start of the scrim.

The term "scrim" could carry various meanings, but when limited to Apex Predator, and considering the opinions of many professionals and participants, it was an endurance test.

While all PvP modes in Dark Zone were intense, facing off against AI was vastly different from battling real players.

Even Hunters, considered tough by seasoned players, couldn’t fully replicate the diverse and unpredictable movements of humans, so their specs were boosted to compensate for this.

Assuming each match lasted an average of 20 minutes, even without factoring in matchmaking time, three rounds could easily take up an hour.

Although the in-game time accelerated to three times real time, reducing the perceived duration, this didn’t alleviate mental fatigue. As a result, professionals and those aspiring to be required greater stamina and concentration than the average player.

And naturally, consistently maintaining focus and placing in the top ranks during such a grueling process was a skill in itself—one that Yujin mastered effortlessly, regularly ranking at the top.

While she didn’t always win, barring extremely unfair circumstances, she frequently finished first, taking down all those around her in the process.

As the scrim progressed, a thought began to form in everyone’s mind.

She was, quite literally, a tactical nuke.

Especially in solo games, where everyone was an enemy.

Yujin’s refusal to die naturally became a topic of discussion, and her frequent first-place finishes quickly answered any questions that arose.

In summary:

-You have to approach each situation with the mindset that if you die, it’s over. This forces you to find a way out, even in the most dire circumstances.

Of course, the others in the room couldn’t fully adopt Yujin’s peculiar mindset, but it was seriously debated nonetheless.

Had this been said by a random player on the internet, it might have been just another line added to a pile of opinions. But coming from someone who consistently achieved what even professionals found nearly impossible, her words carried weight.

Frankly, most people were curious about how she managed it.

As Yujin continued to dominate the top ranks, the professional gamers running the session eventually had to apologize and shift focus to debriefing and analyzing the gameplay of other users, rather than hers.

This was an unprecedented situation.

Some even remarked that it was surprising to see so many highly skilled players flooding into the game—a phenomenon they thought only happened on American servers.

But, as always, time moved on, the first session ended, and Yujin was recognized as a near-professional as she entered the next section.

Session Two.

Simply put, this was a tactics lecture, but if everything were explained in detail, it was more like training conducted on a 3D field based on the scrim map.

Among the participants were not only solo players but also those involved in duo and squad play, so the simulated battles varied, from 1v1 to 2v2 and 4v4.

Their battles were evaluated by the 90 or so spectators, including professionals, and the scenarios were repeated until the second session concluded.

The third session that followed was a process of internalizing the tactics learned in the second session, with the goal of better handling combat situations previously experienced, using specially and meticulously adjusted custom match settings.

In simple terms, this was a slightly tweaked scrim match, not too different from what had been done before.

The fourth session didn’t offer much for Yujin to learn, either.

"…Although it’s not possible to log in now with the qualifiers coming up soon, Yujin, I think it would be beneficial for you to play competitive matches on the North American server outside of scrims.

Since there will be scrims involving players from all over the world on the North American server during the preliminary period for the final championship, practicing while waiting for that could yield good results…"

That was how impressed people were by her performance.

It wasn’t a big deal for her, but still.

2:00 PM.

After starting at 9:30 AM in real time and running for about 13 hours in-game, the scrim finally ended.

As the sound of clear applause filled the debriefing room, those who hadn’t received any special messages naturally began to leave, while cursors of various colors appeared over the heads of those who stayed behind.

Some had more than one, and each cursor was paired with the color floating above the remaining professional gamers’ heads.

In simple terms, these were the chosen ones.

The professionals standing on the platform generated microphones and began calling out names.

"Redfield, is Redfield here?"

"Is Medal of Honor 997LP Skadia here? If you have a moment, could we have a quick chat?"

"If you’re Three Meals a Day, One Trick, please raise your hand!"

And amid the crowd…

"…Wow, what is this…."

"Yujin! Please raise your hand!"

"Wow, they’re really going for it. Do you guys even have any shame?"

Yujin, with over ten colorful cursors stacked above her head and a rare look of bewilderment on her face, received a flurry of love calls from the professionals, all vying for her attention.

About a third of the cursors were glowing gold—wildcards—signifying that these professionals were determined to talk to her or recruit her no matter what.

This was a unique culture that could only be seen in VR.

Naturally, Yujin wasn’t unfamiliar with what this meant.

Much like in old internet novels that depicted virtual reality, the countless pop-up windows appearing before her eyes explained it in detail.

Though she had expected this to some extent, there was always a difference between anticipating something in your head and actually facing it.

As she hesitated, a wildcard message popped up before her eyes.

However, it felt a little familiar.

-[Alert: Dice has sent you a private message. Would you like to check it?]

…Perhaps.

The fact that she was the first professional Yujin had defeated might just be a valid reason to pay attention to this.

Thinking this, Yujin clicked on the message.

-[Alert: Moving to Dice’s personal booth.]

A flash of light appeared before her eyes.