"Ha, I’m gonna die… Ugh…"

One game ends.

The fifth game ends.

And Dice, staggering, collapses onto the bed in her personal room.

Even though she had emerged as the sole victor among 99 losers, that didn’t mean she could escape the overwhelming fatigue that followed each match. After all, being a winner also meant being the person who remained on the battlefield the longest.

Thus, the joy of victory didn’t last long. In just ten minutes, a new game would begin again. In a way, it seemed like the system was designed to induce an endless cycle.

The earlier you are eliminated, the longer the time you have to prepare for the next game. Those who are knocked out early in the session are given plenty of time to contemplate and strategize for the next round.

In other words, while the official break time after each game is only 10 minutes, those eliminated early might have 30 minutes or more to mentally prepare for the next round.

On the flip side, those who come in first place… like me, for example, have to jump right back into the next game after just 10 minutes.

A mere 600 seconds isn’t enough time to mentally recover or review the results of the previous match, let alone prepare for the next. Especially after using every bit of focus to clinch the top spot…

Either way, I had to rest as much as possible here.

"I’ll just sleep for a little while…"

She lay down on the bed.

Thankfully, here—in virtual reality—it wasn’t sticky or hot like the summer heat in the real world. In fact, it was always pleasantly cool and slightly dry. Moreover, because it was VR, sleep could be induced deliberately.

With the advent of virtual reality, humans had gained partial freedom from many things. Being able to sleep whenever and however long you wanted was just one of the many perks VR had to offer.

Even emotions, swayed by the physical body’s condition and hormones in the real world, were no longer an issue. Since the avatar you connected to in VR was separate from your real body, many of the real-world limitations were bypassed. Interestingly, women were among those who benefited the most from this.

In other words, I was one of them.

"…It’ll be fine, somehow."

About 20 seconds remained before sleep induction.

Dice had already set an alarm to wake her up 1 minute and 30 seconds before the next match. As she drifted into sleep, her thoughts briefly wandered.

In fact, last year, there was a player who managed to squeeze in a short nap during this brief window. It was a productive way to replenish the focus expended in combat and relieve the mental fatigue built up from intense action. In a way, it was as much a preparation for the next match as any other method.

Of course, there was also the risk of waking up groggy and disoriented during the next game, but that was a gamble some were willing to take.

Now, roughly 10 seconds until sleep.

As she waited, thoughts of Yu-jin drifted into her mind.

That person… I don’t know. But she’s undoubtedly a monster, the kind you’d see once every 40 years. If she had been born in a different era, she probably would have changed history—like King Richard the Lionheart or Xiang Yu, the Conqueror.

So, am I really being taught by someone like that in real-time? I’ve thought about this before, but honestly, I don’t know. Either way, it probably doesn’t matter.

As 10 seconds passed, the flood of thoughts dissipated, and she succumbed to sleep.

─── BEEP BEEP BEEP!

"…No way, I just closed my eyes!"

Of course, the 8 minutes passed in the blink of an eye.

It wasn’t much of a nap, considering even a quick rest usually lasted about 20 minutes. But what could she do? This was the burden of being in first place. Although, Yu-jin probably wouldn’t have had the same experience, but still.

She took a few deep breaths, drawing in oxygen to shake off the drowsiness before checking the next map.

-[Notification: The next map is Atakaia Volcano Island.]

A map loosely based on Hawaii.

In real life, it might have been a dream vacation destination, but here, instead of cheerful ukulele music or festive tunes, the only sounds were the thunderous explosions of gunpowder and the discordant noise of burning villages.

Memories of past strategies and everything Yu-jin had taught flooded her body instinctively. She got up from the bed, stretching lightly. However, she hadn’t quite shaken off the sleepiness, so she planned to take it slow in the early stages of the match.

Before she knew it, there was only about a minute left until the game started.

"Let’s see…"

Her score after the first cycle was a whopping 41 points. Considering that last year, she’d only managed 12 points by this stage, her performance had more than tripled. With 19 points earned in the fifth game, her total now stood at 60.

Compared to last year, it felt like a night-and-day difference… No, not just that—it was more like her performance had skyrocketed vertically. At this point, no matter the outcome of the next match, she would likely secure victory.

But she wasn’t planning to go easy. A blade must be sharpened, and tempered steel becomes stronger with repeated forging. Though saying this out loud made her realize just how much Yu-jin’s mindset had influenced her.

After moving her fingertips to determine the expected drop zone, she mentally ran a quick simulation. It was hard not to feel optimistic. With just one more match, this grueling KSM could finally be over.

It felt odd to call it grueling when only a day had passed, but she had her reasons.

The scores she had earned so far were much better than last year’s, but that was because she had approached each round with the mindset that every match could be her last.

This meant that even in situations where she might have given up last year, she had gritted her teeth and fought to survive. The number of times she’d barely made it out alive couldn’t be compared to before. So, it was natural to feel exhausted by the KSM already.

She had treated every match as if it were the final game of the tournament.

-[Notification: 10 seconds until the next session.]

"…Blooming is up next, huh?"

As she woke, various thoughts began to flood her mind.

Unlike her, who had no intention of stopping at KSM, Blooming was a relatively ordinary SSM pro-gamer who had been bouncing between the first and second teams. He wasn’t aiming for a higher battlefield—at least not yet.

In other words, this year was likely as far as he’d go. Thanks to Yu-jin’s curriculum, he had performed admirably in the qualifiers, but it would be tough for him to compete against the highly skilled players from the first teams of the various organizations.

Anyway, it wasn’t her concern. Results were results, and training was training. No matter what outcome he achieved in this tournament, he would likely head straight to the shooting range after the KSM to address his shortcomings.

It was time.

-[Notification: Deploying to the battlefield.]

Her vision turned white, and the smell of gunpowder mixed with the air.

She set foot on the tropical paradise that had turned into hell.

Tactics were always fluid, and the strategies each player brought to the battlefield were even more so. Even the multiple strategic maneuvers created under the guidance of coaches and managers were no exception.

Of course, there wasn’t a complete lack of direction. It was based on the flow of the KSM, adjusted according to the players' conditions that day, and, more specifically, it depended on the starting points and the weapons obtained.

This year, there were several enormous variables at play, so the coaches had to watch helplessly as many of the tactics they had devised crumbled like cookies.

Naturally, the first and most significant variable needed no introduction.

‘Should we just run if we see Yu-jin?’

‘…Is she really that strong?’

‘Think about it, would you pick a fight in the kill zone?’

As much as they hated to admit it, they couldn’t deny it.

Yu-jin was skilled enough to enter the finals immediately and return home victorious. Many analysts had already concluded that she could go toe-to-toe with former Tier 1 and Tier 2 U.S. special forces players.

The KSM wasn’t even a regional qualifier; it was just a stepping stone. Even the proud Korean players and coaches had no choice but to throw in the towel after witnessing her inhuman-level plays.

But on the flip side, this made Yu-jin somewhat predictable in terms of strategy—meaning no one doubted she would secure early selection in the first cycle.

And as everyone expected, she ascended faster than anyone else.

Of course, if that were all, there wouldn’t have been any further discussion.

BOOM!

‘…What was that?’

A massive explosion, which, thankfully, only existed in the cyber world.

Not only did it leave everyone’s mouths agape, but it froze them in shock, as if time had stopped. A scene of hundreds of oversized shipping containers being blown into the air like paper boxes in a typhoon etched itself into everyone’s minds.

It wasn’t the right metaphor, but the saying "If you can’t catch a pheasant, catch a chicken" came to mind. With Yu-jin gone, the chaos was bound to be caused by someone she had trained. Dice, who had already been dominating the SSM's AP solo section, met the perfect mentor, and the result was an explosive chemical reaction.

The culmination of that result was this massive explosion.

In other words, it was a monumental trolling moment for every analyst, coach, and manager from the other teams who had been expecting a relatively normal KSM once Yu-jin was out of the picture.

Of course, that was only from their perspective.

‘How do we stop that…?’

They had to stop it.

But how?

On a giant map spanning dozens of square kilometers, was there any way to stop just one person? It was an extreme 50-50. No matter what they did, they’d lose in the end. Whether they stopped her or left her alone, the outcome would be unfavorable.

If they tried to stop her, their previously established movement routes and strategies would fall apart. If they left her alone, there was no telling what might happen next. Either way, their plans were shattered beyond repair.

In a way, it was proof that Dice had absorbed Yu-jin’s teachings well. Not only did she refuse to play by her opponent’s expectations, but she also flipped the entire "game" everyone had assumed would play out.

However, there was one key difference between Yu-jin and Dice. The former was an unstoppable force of nature, while Dice, though formidable, wasn’t quite at that level.

And so, a different conclusion was reached when dealing with Dice.

‘It’s probably best to just kill Dice on sight.’

‘Right?’

A kill order.

Being a mid-level powerhouse often made you stand out the most.

But what they failed to fully grasp—or perhaps they were deliberately ignoring—was that Dice had been trained to focus on tactical elements even more than strategy.

‘What? Why did you die?’

‘Dice is too strong.’

‘Wow.’

It was an entirely predictable outcome.

Dice wasn’t a light bulb; she was the fire itself, and the moths that flew toward her met the fate they deserved—leading to an absolute disaster zone everywhere except the eye of the storm.

In this situation where neither course of action seemed viable, the sixth game began. There were only two matches left on the first day of KSM—though fortunately, Dice was expected to be picked for early selection soon.

But that also meant it wasn’t over yet.

Not just yet.

"It’s always so hot here."

The humidity was suffocating.

The heat from the flowing lava was oppressive.

And the smoke rising endlessly into the sky, along with the layers of volcanic ash piling up like snow, made visibility a complete mess.

In the middle of this apocalyptic scene stood 99 players, and among them, her golden hair gleamed in the sunlight. Her slightly drooping eyes made her look almost drowsy.

Dice.

She set foot on Atakaia Volcano Island, possibly her final KSM match.

Click!

Opening a box revealed several guns.

Gunfire was already ringing out in the distance. It seemed like the initial skirmishing had already failed. She thought she had picked a place where fewer people would land, but apparently, others had the same idea.

However, there was something more important on her mind.

"…Am I cursed or something?"

The ASh-12.7.

Why had she been followed by ridiculously large-caliber guns for the past few matches? Not that she couldn’t use them, but still… this was a bit much. It’s not like she wanted to be like that crazy person.

Fortunately, after cautiously searching through more boxes, she soon found a familiar 5.56mm NATO rifle. The familiar weight and feel put her mind at ease… but.

Hmm…

Glance.

…Well. Carrying it as a secondary weapon should be fine, right?

I’m definitely not obsessed with firepower.

And so, with a second gun slung across her back, she set out on what could be her final match.

In hindsight, maybe I’ve been catching this "bug" without realizing it.