As the Asia qualifiers approached, the five participating countries were fiercely competing for their respective goals.

These five nations, historically intertwined with one another, harbored immense pride and an unwavering competitive spirit, stemming from a deep-rooted belief that they must not lose to their rivals. This fierce determination had carried over into modern society.

One of the prime examples of this was the League, which was classified alongside the North American and European Leagues, forming what is now known as the East Asian League. The fact that this league stood on par with its counterparts, where competition was intense to the point of being cutthroat, was a testament to the region’s competitive nature.

Every year, the rivalry intensified. Players studied their opponents to such an extent that they even analyzed their playstyles in their dreams, striving to secure a spot in the finals.

Of course, this psychological warfare didn’t end with the players. The importance of staff who had to view the battlefield from a broader perspective could not be understated. It wasn’t uncommon for a single comment to completely overturn a team’s strategy. If the coaching staff devised the tactics, the players were the ones to drive the sword into the enemy’s heart.

The overall increase in skill level across the board was undeniable, but it wasn’t the same for everyone. The differences in culture, location, and personnel contributed to each country’s unique strengths.

China, with its seven competing regions, consistently boasted top-tier talent through fierce national competition.

Japan, a leading power in the Asia qualifiers, maintained its edge by consistently exchanging tactics with the United States.

Russia, once shattered under the weight of capitalism, had risen again, with the legacy of its past as a superpower still intact.

South Korea, despite its small size, cultivated a monstrous player base due to its need to counter its pseudo-nation neighbor, North Korea. Each year, it produced a national team that could hold its own against China, Russia, and Japan.

And then there was Taiwan, which, unfortunately, was often considered the weakest link due to the overwhelming infrastructure of its neighbors.

Regardless of each country's strengths or weaknesses, certain elements remained consistent across the nations participating in the Asia qualifiers.

“...Here is the list of key players to watch in the Asia qualifiers. Coaches and players, please review it thoroughly and come up with strategies before the match.”

The pre-briefing.

This event wasn’t exclusive to South Korea, and there were always aspects of these national briefings that were best kept secret. Each country, including Korea, knew what to expect from other countries' pre-briefings—a dissection-like analysis to prepare countermeasures, with the target always being foreign players.

As soon as the pre-briefing ended, the participants trickled out. Unlike Korea, which still had a post-briefing to attend, other nations simply delivered the necessary information and promptly wrapped up their sessions.

Until last year, Korea hadn’t been much different. But this year, a completely unexpected surge had drawn at least a million more viewers than anticipated, prompting a more elaborate response.

Click.

Returning to the hotel, the players exchanged brief farewells before heading to their individual rooms. After getting comfortable, Yujin slipped on her choker-style connector, pressed a button, and entered VR. The familiar ruins awaited her.

Assigned to a separate space within the Operator Room, the walls were lined with various intel, creating the feel of a briefing room. The LED clock on the wall switched to a countdown, displaying 30 minutes.

Her avatar, weathered by countless battles, had sharp eyes beneath its dark pupils that scanned the piles of information.

It was the analysis data of foreign players, transmitted immediately after the pre-briefing. In other words, a puzzle to solve.

Her gaze fell on the files, each labeled with player names. But one file, noticeably more worn than the others, caught her eye—six letters written across the top.

Yujin.

The higher she climbed, the more she could see. Fourteen years of honing skills designed to take lives had not only improved her abilities in the game but also granted her a unique edge.

She could see the paths her opponents had walked, the training they had undergone, the hesitations in their movements, and the areas they were less skilled in. It was a talent she had developed during her years in the military, an instinct born from her experiences.

Today, she was grateful for that talent.

Is there a chance?

Interestingly, many analysts focused on Yujin’s solo play in AP mode. However, what they should have been paying attention to was her main missions with a user named Harmony.

Her ability to read the battlefield was unmatched, and her split-second decisions were far beyond what any normal person could make. Even her commentary during airstrike guidance suggested she had qualifications equivalent to a JTAC (Joint Terminal Attack Controller).

It was highly likely she wasn’t just a former special forces soldier, but a real-life operator who had been deployed multiple times—a national asset, not just a regular player.

The longer one stayed in this field, the better their intuition became. Outside of North America, the number of individuals with Yujin’s level of military experience and skill was incredibly small. But the world had a way of throwing new challenges at you just when you thought you had everything figured out.

Ding.

-[Notification: Starting video playback.]

"Haah."

Do what you can.

Just because this user was her highest priority didn’t mean there weren’t other things to focus on. There were still plenty of rookies to train, and three weeks remained until the Asia qualifiers.

It wasn’t much time to turn rough stones into polished gems, but when in life did one ever get the time they needed?

Looks like I’ll be living in VR for a while.

The night was drawing near.

Autumn days were still short.

Meanwhile, two people had unknowingly earned the attention of a BBQ restaurant’s staff.

"Five orders of short ribs and five of char-grilled pork belly, right? Plus four bowls of rice and two orders of soybean paste stew? You’re not waiting for more people to join you, are you?"

"Nope, that’s all."

"Don’t worry, she’s going to eat it all."

 

 

Sizzle.

"What is this?"

"Check it out."

The meat browned to perfection, sending its savory scent through the air as it cooked on the grill. The red flesh charred to a caramel brown, the criss-crossed grill marks adding to its appeal.

Amidst the clatter of voices, glasses clinking, and meat sizzling, an unfamiliar sound reached Dice’s ears alone—a notification of a large message. Her expression immediately soured. A large file from Yujin could only mean one thing. Another strategy guide, no doubt similar to the one she had sent to Blooming last time.

A new training curriculum.

It was time to return to her real job.

"You’re really killing my appetite here."

"Think of it as returning to form a little early."

"...I’ll take a look."

Half-expecting and half-dreading, Dice opened the file. Yujin’s training plans were always insane in both content and quality. It wasn’t just tailored for AP; it was on a whole other level of complexity and emotional detachment.

And yet, even without any special intuition, Dice knew roughly what this person was preparing her for. After months of setting it aside, the next encounter with Japan’s case was fast approaching, and her suspicions were slowly turning into certainty.

Hesitantly, she asked, "Is it really okay to be sharing all this with me?"

"Hmm."

Yujin met her gaze while chewing her food. Someone as perceptive as Yujin would have immediately understood why she was asking.

Still, there was no way to read Yujin’s thoughts. She was an easy person to understand, yet impossible to fully know. It wasn’t unpleasant that Yujin had her secrets—everyone had secrets. What intrigued Dice was the depth of those secrets.

But maybe she’d never learn. Or maybe, when everything was over, Yujin would reveal them.

As expected, Yujin reassured her calmly.

"I haven’t told you anything critical, so don’t worry. I’m only giving you insights into things people might normally overlook."

"Well, you’re not wrong."

The question of how Yujin managed to pinpoint those “overlooked” elements so accurately remained unspoken.

Dice opened the file and began reviewing it. One thing became clear: she wouldn’t be spending any more time at the shooting range. Instead, she’d be engaging in direct 1:1 sessions with Yujin.

Lovely.

"What’s the goal of this curriculum?"

"You’re catching on quickly."

Yujin wiped her hands after popping a bite of meat into her mouth.

Following a deliberately noisy silence, she took a sip of soda and replied.

"Pressure."

"Pressure, huh?"

"There are thousands, if not tens of thousands, of possible combat scenarios. Even if you’re in the same situation, you can never predict how it will play out perfectly. How many times have I emphasized this?"

"Enough times for it to stick."

"It’s that important."

She continued.

"By the time you’re done with this schedule, you’ll be able to remain calm in any combat situation."

"Great, so my next month is going to be packed."

"I’ll be pushing you a lot harder than the two-person scrims we’ve done before, so brace yourself."

"Eugh. I’m already losing my appetite."

Maybe it was because she’d spent all day eating, or maybe it was the looming dread of the next few weeks, but the future felt daunting.

Still, Yujin’s timing was as impeccable as ever. Life rarely delivered what you wanted when you wanted it; more often, it served up massive challenges just when you least expected them.

Not that Dice could deny she was already pretty influenced by Yujin at this point.

That aside…

"How can you eat so much and still enjoy it? I’m kind of envious."

"Haha, there are some perks."

"Of course, I’m going to be broke by the end of today, but don’t even think about splitting the bill. I said I’d treat you. I’ve got plenty of money after placing second."

"Ah."

"Seriously. Who do you think helped me get here?"

Swoosh.

Two thick slices of perfectly cooked meat. On top of a lettuce leaf, some rice, a dab of ssamjang, green onions, and pickled onions. The wrap was huge, far too big for Dice to eat herself.

She made it for Yujin.

Yujin, looking slightly bewildered, reached for the wrap.

"Why are you trying to take it with your hands? Open your mouth, come on."

"Why are you trying to feed me? It’s embarrassing."

"Everyone knows you’re shy, Yujin. But today, you’re going to let me feed you. Now, come on, open wide!"

"Why are you like this?"

Yujin’s face flushed slightly as she hesitantly opened her mouth, cheeks glowing as the smoke from the grill swirled between them.

It was almost amusing how quickly Yujin’s mood brightened as soon as the food was in her mouth. She began chewing, and once she finished, she nodded.

"It’s good."

"Of course, it is. Who do you think is paying?"

"Fair point."

Then Yujin added.

"At least there’s no awkwardness between us in real life. You look the same in VR and reality, so it’s not weird. A lot of people with big gaps between their avatars and real appearances find it super uncomfortable to meet in person."

"It’s a funny coincidence. But it sounds like you’ve seen that happen before."

"It happened last year during the pre-briefing. It was chaos. There wasn’t as much structure as there is now, so hardly anyone interacted in real life. I thought I was going to suffocate."

"Last year, you said it was super quiet? That probably had something to do with it, huh."

"Of course. How was I supposed to go around chatting with everyone in a room full of men? Unless I was an extrovert, which I’m not... Anyway, that’s how it was."

As she continued venting, she felt lighter.

By the time they were done eating, it was already 9 PM. If she went home and took care of everything before bed, it’d probably be around 11 PM, maybe midnight.

Their meal was wrapping up, and it was time to pay. After spending the whole day eating, Dice figured she’d consumed at least 3,000 calories.

They put their coats back on to avoid smelling like meat and stepped outside. The cool weather welcomed them, a stark contrast to just a few months ago.

It seemed like tomorrow would be a good day for cardio.

In other words, it was time to part ways.

"My place is in Gangnam, so I’ll be heading down that way. What about you?"

"I’m just a bit north. I live near Hongje Station."

"Wow, that’s a nice area. I’m jealous."

"Come on."

They exchanged some lighthearted banter as they walked toward the subway station.

The gate came into view. One would be heading up, and the other down. It was really time to say goodbye. Maybe it was because Yujin’s avatar looked just like her real self, but the bond they’d formed in VR made parting ways feel a bit sad.

Still, since they’d be seeing each other again tomorrow, Dice wished for a good meeting next time.

"Let’s hang out more in real life. Meeting in VR can be kind of scary."

"Haha."

With a wave, Yujin replied.

"Sure. See you later."

And with a swish of her tail, Yujin disappeared.

Dice watched her leave before heading down to the platform to wait for her train. The opposite train arrived first, so she couldn’t see Yujin leave.

Ugh…

It had been a tiring day, in many ways.

Just another autumn night.

 

-[Interview Schedule Notification]

-[Mon: Yujin // Dice // Mikael // Gambit]

-[Tue: Xi // TK1]

-[Wed: Arcadia Games // GEARUP]

-[Thu: Veritas // BlanKK1kers]

-[Fri: LegioInvicta // ClearSky // ReaperINfected]