"Now, the final day of KSM begins! Players and viewers have 10 minutes to prepare. If you haven’t completed your setup yet, please finish as soon as possible within the given time!"

The host’s booming voice echoed throughout the venue.

Before a match, such announcements usually didn’t grab much attention. I felt the same way during Saturday’s game. But hearing it two days in a row, the grandiosity starts to fade and a sense of familiarity creeps in.

There wasn’t any particular reason for it. Maybe it was just my perspective that had shifted. However, the perspective in question wasn’t about some matured view of KSM after experiencing it once more compared to last year.

I no longer had to play in the match, so why wouldn’t the host’s voice feel comforting?

If you didn’t want to participate, you didn’t have to. The only thing left on Sunday’s event schedule were two exhibition matches that had no bearing on the KSM results.

In short, the popcorn was delicious.

"Hehe."

The day, which had started at the boundary between morning and afternoon, passed surprisingly quickly.

If this were last year, I’d have logged into VR right after lunch and brushed my teeth, diving headfirst into practice. Considering the time acceleration inside virtual reality, no matter how long it felt, I’d be done by about 3 p.m.

After that, I’d spend about one or two hours in real life, anxiously waiting until 10 minutes before KSM began, then log back into VR to wait in the player’s lounge.

Those memories from last year started bubbling up again. But, of course, memories are just that—memories. They don’t have much to do with the present.

"Ahhh, this is so nice…!"

The soft embrace of the bed felt exceptionally cozy today. As the host mentioned earlier, there were about 10 minutes left until the match started. With the breaks between matches, I’d have about 50 minutes of rest within the third cycle in-game.

The average match time was 25 minutes. Since one cycle consisted of four games, I’d have around two and a half hours left in virtual reality until the exhibition match began. If you added everything together, that would amount to roughly 5 to 6 hours.

Of course, in addition to those watching inside virtual reality, there were also recordings for real-time viewing, so KSM was expected to last around 5 to 6 hours in real life as well.

In short, there was plenty of time to kill.

As I pondered whether to take a rare afternoon nap, despite not feeling particularly sleepy, I heard a familiar voice from beside me.

"Why are you lying down again?"

"Ugh, now I can't even lie down without being criticized... Kueh!"

"You're making weird noises again."

Pang! A soft flick hit the back of my head with a crisp sound. Fortunately, they didn’t put much force into it, so it didn’t hurt at all.

This was part of the perks—if you could call them that—of being a pre-selected participant. The lounge was a comfortable space designed for us to relax. Through the large glass windows, we could see the packed stadium filled with viewers.

Of course, if one preferred, they could make the glass disappear and just focus on watching the match.

Speaking of lounges, a memory from last year suddenly resurfaced. Back then, I thought the day I secured my spot in the finals was the brightest moment of my life, after all the hardships I endured.

Anyway, there were still 10 minutes until the match started. Not that it made much of a difference; things didn’t get particularly hectic when the game began. As I sank deeper into the luxurious sofa—something that would probably cost millions of won in real life—Yujin naturally sat down beside me.

It was a perfect moment for some idle chatter.

"Aren't you curious about how we’re getting to the finals?"

"By plane, I assume."

"Aww, can’t you at least pretend to be curious? Just say you're curious, please?"

I think I heard a sigh, but I decided to ignore it.

Even though my conscience pricked me like a spinning triangle in my chest, I was a functioning adult. Whether Yujin was curious or not, I decided to start talking. I was confident that Yujin would find it interesting once she heard the details.

"We’re flying first class. First class! Icarus Corp and the team split the costs. All we have to do is pack ourselves and our luggage. Although we do have to wake up a bit early, since the limo comes to pick us up in the morning."

"That does sound a bit fun."

"Right? It’s interesting, isn’t it? I bet after I start talking about last year’s finals, today’s KSM won’t even compare. So, what do you think? Isn’t your curiosity growing?"

"Haha."

It looked like it was time to retell all the stories I had worn out last year.

Smiling, I began to speak.

"The finals... they’ll probably be held around the same time this year, mid to late December."

"That’s quite late."

"Yeah, I didn’t understand it at first either, but there’s a reason behind it. Since the qualifiers are held worldwide, places like South America and some of the less stable regions... well, they need more time."

So they allow over two months to accommodate these issues.

In countries with good security and a solid international presence, it’s rare for events to be disrupted to the point where matches can’t take place. Players can handle things at their own pace. But in some regions, the situation is less predictable.

They give them as much time as possible to sort out any issues. And if they still can’t make it, other countries step in to fill the gaps.

"Apex Predator competitions haven’t been around for long, so there hasn’t been an instance where players from these regions couldn’t attend, but it’s all about being prepared. And starting next year, there’s going to be a rule where countries that don’t meet a certain performance standard will be excluded."

"We’re getting off-topic."

"It’s your fault, Yujin. Anyway, the first-class flight leaves at 10 a.m., but considering the check-in, boarding, and luggage, we’ll have to wake up pretty early. And around that time, the average temperature drops to minus 15 degrees..."

"Eww, I hate the cold..."

"Oh, right!"

Pfft.

I couldn’t help but let out a goofy laugh, picturing Yujin bundled up like the mascot of a winter coat company, wearing layers upon layers of padded clothing. Even though I’d seen the survival mode videos where Yujin braved the elements with Harmony, I knew how much she hated the cold.

Despite bracing myself for another head flick, Yujin just shook her head without any further reaction.

Meanwhile, the conversation naturally drifted back to the lounge.

"Once we arrive, we can rest for a bit after check-in, and then relax in the first-class lounge at the airport until we depart. You can have breakfast there, too. They have a chef, so you can just tell them what you want to eat."

"That must’ve been delicious. What did you have?"

"I had abalone porridge and grilled short ribs. It was really tasty. But first-class serves a lot of food during the flight, so if you eat too much beforehand, you’ll get full. Anyway, after the meal, you can just wait with some dessert or coffee until it’s time to board."

"The match is starting! The first map is Poplar Ridge Correctional Facility. Best of luck to all the players!"

The match starting abruptly cut off our conversation.

Even though I had a lot more to say, it was time to start watching the players’ engagements in earnest. Like flipping a channel, the glass windows and interior seamlessly transitioned to display the match.

Several large screens popped up, broadcasting the action like a live feed. Our conversation about the flight naturally shifted to the match as well.

"So, Yujin, who do you think will make it?"

"Are you talking about the Asia qualifiers?"

"Yeah."

"Summit and Crossline from TK1 have been consistently performing well. INK from Xi is the same. Whale is doing fine, but Corvus hasn’t been very impressive... Grizzly from Veritas and Gambit from Clear Sky are also good."

"Do you think Blooming has any chance of making the national team?"

"Maybe next year they'll hit their stride."

"Haha, that joke fits their nickname perfectly."

As the contenders were narrowed down, the conversation continued.

Summit and Crossline from TK1, INK and Whale from Xi, Grizzly from Veritas, Gambit from Clear Sky, Ebler from Arcadia Games, and Seolram from GEARUP. Adding Yujin and Dice, who were pre-selected, made about 10 contenders.

Of course, the national team had room for 20, so there were still plenty of players Yujin hadn’t mentioned.

Then, out of nowhere, a comment was thrown in.

"The lineup looks strong. Dice must be better than I thought to make it through to the finals with competition like this."

"Who's the one who smashed their way through all of them? I’m more famous and skilled than you think! You have no idea how much the analysts panicked when I got solo-killed in a scrim against Xi!"

"You should’ve done better."

"Ugh..."

I had no comeback.

In all my life, I never thought I’d hear "If you’re mad, just do better" used against me. Even though I had a lot to say, there was nothing I could actually say in response. After all, it’s unreasonable to expect a person to beat an armored infantry vehicle in a one-on-one fight.

Dice had always been pragmatic, not caring about unattainable goals. But the problem was that this human-shaped armored vehicle kept trying to push her up a tree she couldn’t climb.

Anyway.

"Blooming will probably improve a lot if they keep training next year, but I’m not planning to retire anytime soon. I might not make first place in the finals, but I’d love to place in the top five."

"If you keep following along until mid to late December, there’s still a chance you can make it this year. I’ll make sure you get into the top ten."

"Really? I’ll put my faith in your tail, Yujin."

"Why trust my tail?"

"Hehe, ack!"

Pang!

And just like that, the Sunday KSM was flying by in the blink of an eye.

How much time passed after that?

"Aha, Yujin! It’s really nice to meet you! And you, too, Dice! It’s been a year, and you’ve returned as a wild maniac! Time to settle the score!"

"Ugh, don’t push down on my head! Ack!"

Squeeze!

As expected, the next pre-selected participant Yujin mentioned was Summit from TK1. After being thoroughly beaten in the port city of Tannhäuser, Summit wasted no time folding Dice up as soon as they met. Naturally, he calmed down immediately in front of Yujin.

But Yujin simply sipped her coffee, unperturbed, while Dice was gradually crumpled into the soft sofa. It was a debt long overdue, and she had no intention of missing the show.

Since Summit was also one of last year’s finalists, the conversation quickly turned to new stories as more and more pre-selected participants arrived.

First phase: Yujin. Second phase: Dice. Third phase: Summit and Crossline from TK1, and INK from Xi. Fourth phase: Gambit from Clear Sky, and Ebler from Arcadia Games.

As each phase concluded, the number of participants grew. By the time the final exhibition match ended, seven people had gathered in the room, each holding their results.

But the gathering didn’t last long. The time had come for KSM to wrap up, and with it, the points for the remaining 13 participants would be closely scrutinized to determine the national team selections.

And how much time had passed?

With grand background music, the passionate host took to the mic.

"And now, we officially announce the 20 players selected as the national team through KSM! Let’s give them a big round of applause!"

The applause was so loud it could’ve burst eardrums.

Most were smiling, but those preparing for next week’s Korea Team Match, the team version of KSM known as KTM, couldn’t smile quite as broadly. There was still a lot of work to be done before the Asia qualifiers.

Adding to that, both Yujin and Dice had already given interviews yesterday, meaning the host’s interview mic now passed from Dice to each pre-selected player in turn.

And thus, the two of them were quietly chatting on stage.

"So, Yujin, now..."

Correction.

It wasn’t a chat. It was the confirmation of a result.

Yujin wordlessly showed Dice the notice Harmony had posted on her personal site about a collaboration, and Dice nodded as if she’d expected it. However, what Dice didn’t know was that there was a little surprise included this time.

"Take it easy for about a week. It’s personal practice."

"Really? Yesss!"

Even though she quickly covered her mouth, it was already too late.

Countless eyes were now focused on Dice, who turned as red as a ripe tomato, mumbling a quiet "sorry..."

And so, Yujin’s first chapter came to a close.

After more than a month, a period was placed on the sentence that was Yujin, and a quill dipped in ink was lifted to write the second. The prologue had ended, and the true second act was about to begin.

KSM was over, the week had ended, and a new week was beginning. The fiery enthusiasm kindled by KSM would turn to ashes, settling thickly on the roads traveled by workers and students alike.

Dark circles under the eyes and vanished motivation. Every beginning carries with it an end.

But ironically, the one solace in all of this was—

[General] Captured the moment Dice went turbo, lol.

—Dice’s blunder would forever be immortalized.

With that little bit of humor, everything came to an end.

Not with a blinding explosion, but with the quiet calm of dawn.

[Harmony: Teacher~~ Did you see the announcement?? Just join by 7 PM tomorrow~~~ // (Posted - Sun, 23:47)]

[Harmony: And congrats on making the national team! I’m looking forward to some yummy food when you get your prize~~ hehe just kidding! // (Posted - Sun, 23:47)]

[Harmony: See you tomorrow! // (Posted - Sun, 23:48)]