Fenrir Translations
"Good evening, everyone! It's Friday night, just one day before the weekend, and the energy from our viewers is already off the charts. It's as intense as the California gas storage facility we’re covering tonight!"
"One match has already concluded. Since the map is relatively small and promotes a lot of skirmishes, a wide variety of battles unfold within just 20 minutes."
Meanwhile, as always...
As the preliminary ranks steadily approach the latter stages, the commentators' briefings become more vibrant than the day before. The anticipation of the upcoming weekend further amplifies this excitement, drawing in viewers who previously couldn’t tune in.
The numbers tell the story—240,000 Korean viewers alone. With sixteen matches taking place, it means we’re averaging about 15,000 viewers per broadcast room—though, of course, there were some variations.
Despite setting up multiple chat windows to distribute traffic, the constant flow of messages was reminiscent of the relentless stream of bullets from a minigun.
The record-breaking number of simultaneous viewers each year is enough to surprise even the commentators, but they continue to perform their duties diligently.
As if to prove their dedication, they opened a new screen and added another comment.
It was time to introduce the winner.
"The winner of this round is... Yujin, Yujin! Once again, she has raised the flag of victory high above her countless competitors! Her skill is truly unbelievable, no matter how many times we witness it!"
"We’ve never seen a player who consistently amazes us like this. Perhaps we are witnessing the person who best embodies the term 'Apex Predator.'"
This had almost become an annual event.
Yujin would seize first place whenever she had the chance, and what started as cheers from many commentators gradually turned into a resigned acceptance as time went on.
The only silver lining was that, with sixteen sessions running simultaneously, not all 1,600 participants had to face Yujin's onslaught each time.
In other words, each participant faced a 15/16 chance of avoiding Yujin before the match began. Those lucky—or perhaps unlucky—enough to be matched with her were among the one in sixteen who "won" this dubious honor.
Some players didn’t even make it to the point of encountering Yujin, often being eliminated by other users beforehand. In that sense, being directly killed by Yujin was actually quite rare.
Not that experiencing a low-probability event was anything to be happy about.
"Let’s take a closer look. The highest kill count in this round is eleven, and once again, it’s Yujin. She also holds the highest damage dealt title. She’s truly a natural disaster in human form."
"Exactly. For players in the same session as Yujin, it’s like there’s an additional kill zone in the game. This is something only she can do."
Several screens popped up in the air.
They displayed various details from the previous match, meticulously organized to highlight Yujin’s actions in a sterile, almost clinical manner.
Her average movement distance.
Her average damage dealt.
Her total kills.
What weapons and MOA she used, her average hit accuracy, her preferred engagement range, how often she used her secondary weapon… It was a comprehensive dissection of a single user.
The chat reactions were ecstatic, but not much different from before.
Initially, some viewers scrutinized the data with great interest, analyzing every detail and expressing admiration. But over time, the emotions surrounding these displays began to dull.
Eleven new screens appeared to the side. These were kill cams—a crucial piece of information and an element designed to keep viewers engaged. For professional gamers, they served as a kind of error log, while viewers enjoyed having more content to watch—a win-win.
Among them, one clip was highlighted.
Out of the eleven fallen players, one was randomly selected for a detailed review—an opportunity to increase recognition among the many viewers before the next broadcast, though the selected player could decline.
The moment the username of the chosen player and victim appeared at the top of the clip:
<Xi IMPRESSIVE - Corvus>
Xi.
The fact that even a top-tier professional gamer from one of the leading teams couldn't escape Yujin's grasp was now clear.
The commentators began to shout in excitement.
"Oh! It's Corvus, a pro gamer from Xi! Even this player, who consistently demonstrates excellent skill, couldn’t escape her wrath! I’m really curious to see how this intense showdown ended!"
"The death occurred near the large warehouse on the way to the main gate, close to the management building. Some of the kill zone affected the building, so I wonder if that played a role. Let’s take a look."
───BOOM!
-[Corvus: …What was that noise?]
About a minute before Corvus’ death, as soon as the video played, a terrifying explosion echoed through the corridor.
Corvus, just reaching the first floor and scouting for an exit, and Yujin, who was furiously striking a steel fire shutter with a fire axe.
With each strike, the force in Yujin's hands and arms was evident, as the shutter crumpled with each impact. By the second and third hits, the thin steel plate tore like paper, and the aluminum beams behind it were crushed without mercy.
A chilling gaze was visible through her gas mask. Yujin's presence felt more like a horror movie slasher than a participant in AP.
The reactions were immediate.
"…Oh my, Yujin is dismantling the fire shutter with just an axe! Usually, players would choose an alternate route inside the building or brave the kill zone with the cost of nanomachine usage, but she’s bold in a different way!"
"Meanwhile, Corvus is approaching the crossroad where Yujin is. It seems he's trying to find an exit from the building."
The fire shutter, large enough for two people to pass through, was completely wrecked.
But as Yujin was about to exit, she heard footsteps and hid behind the shutter. At that moment, Corvus was scanning the intersection. The rest was simple. As Corvus moved into her blind spot, Yujin grabbed the long fire axe with both hands and leapt into the corridor.
Corvus was caught in an instant.
───CLANG!
However, at the last moment, he ducked, and the horizontally swung axe embedded itself into the concrete wall above him.
A scream echoed through the corridor.
-[Corvus: Aaaahhhhh!]
-Creek!
"Oh, Corvus dodged Yujin's axe! What an incredible stroke of luck!"
"That scream really comes from the heart. It’s a pitch perfect for a horror movie."
As everyone was reeling in shock, the battle continued.
Finally, a gunfight began across the corridor. But as expected, Yujin dashed forward while Corvus was reloading, threw the axe to disrupt his shot, and then rammed him with her body.
As Corvus slammed into the wall and became stunned, Yujin retrieved her spinning axe mid-air and pulled out her Ash-12.7 with one hand.
A brief conversation ensued.
-[Eugene: Impressive, you dodged the attack.]
-[Corvus: …Next time, if there is one, let’s fight in the open.]
-[Eugene: Haha. I’ll try, if possible.]
Bang.
The heavy report of the gun and the sound of a large casing hitting the floor.
And so, Corvus was eliminated from the session, while Yujin collected minimal items and shattered the shutter leading outside.
As she leisurely drove towards the safe zone, the clip came to an end.
"Heh."
A bewildered laugh filled the broadcast room, though it was unclear who it came from.
"Hahaha! Wow, that’s one of the most gruesome deaths I’ve ever seen. He’s going to need a day or two to recover from that."
"I don't know, man… I think I’m about to lose my mind."
Thud.
Corvus collapsed onto the table with a strange noise, while Whale, who had arrived late to hear the news, immediately dropped everything to come and tease him.
It was a strange scene, one that could only be seen between two people known for being close within Xi.
After pulling a chair close and sitting down, Whale naturally began ordering all sorts of sweet things on the tablet on the table.
Their eyes met.
Corvus looked as if he had just witnessed something horrible. It was like the expression a child makes when they first learn about horror movies.
They were both seasoned players, so Whale wasn’t unfamiliar with the emotions such a situation could evoke. He also prided himself on having survived many insane moments in Dark Zone, but this was...
"Sigh, I’ll buy the snacks this time, so cheer up. Some sweets should help, right?"
"Man… Getting chased with a fire axe while wearing a gas mask is just too much. No lie, if it were real, I would've pissed myself."
"I don’t usually admit defeat, but I have to this time. I watched the clip, and it’s brutal. If you hadn’t dodged the axe, it would’ve been better."
What would have happened if he hadn’t dodged?
With Yujin’s strength, she might have cleanly decapitated him, sparing him from the fear of feeling his heart drop and blood rush out of his body.
Countless "what ifs" flashed through his mind, but what could he do? The past was already gone. The real problem was that even if he could go back, he didn’t think he’d be able to win.
From the moment the tournament ranks opened, he knew something was off, and he had occasionally wondered what he would do if he ever met her.
Who would have thought it would be like this?
Meanwhile, Whale tapped his hand. It seemed the ordered desserts had arrived. As Corvus carefully sat up, the sweet treats were placed one by one on the table.
He picked up a drink glowing with a transparent blue light, filled with cracking ice, and took a sip. It was lukewarm, perhaps because the cold hadn’t fully set in.
"I’m done. When’s the next match?"
"In two hours. Don’t even think about napping."
"Sweet stuff makes me so sleepy."
They chatted back and forth. Naturally, the main topic was the tournament.
Some might ask if it’s possible to rig these things, but just because they were both in Xi and played the same game didn’t mean they could engage in such tactics during solo play. Sixteen different rooms and different spawn points made that impossible. Not to mention, the system prioritized splitting up users from the same team.
Anyway, there was a lot to discuss and endless topics to cover. They knew so much about the game that they didn’t need to bring up anything else.
The conversation soon shifted to squads.
"The squad prelims are next week, right?"
"Yeah. Monday through Friday. Then KSM on Saturday and Sunday, followed by the Korea Squad Match the next weekend."
"That’s intense… We’re going to die at this rate."
Squads.
In some ways, it was a different kind of challenge compared to solo play, which required individual skill. The need to coordinate with others added a significant layer of difficulty and pressure.
There were complaints, praises, and suggestions for improvement. This topic could easily be discussed all day.
As they were getting into it,
"Oh, what’s going on? Why are you all gathered here?"
"How did you know to come here?"
"Never mind that, Corvus, the PR team is looking for you."
Kim Hyukjin.
His in-game nickname was Ulysses. Like Corvus and Whale, he was also a professional gamer.
Upon hearing that he was being sought out, Corvus hurriedly swallowed the cake he was eating and spoke up.
"Why are they looking for me?"
"Something about using the clip of your death in the cinematic video on horror themes that Xi is making in collaboration with Icarus? They probably want to ask you about it. You’re a real legend, man."
"...No way. What the hell?"
Dark Zone.
A world where even death becomes a meme.
So it was Corvus who died last chapter.