The cashier’s gaze irritated me.

First, he widened his eyes when he saw my face, and then his stare dropped to my chest, a mix of confusion and discomfort clouding his expression. Normally, such a gaze would last one or two seconds at most. But this time, the cashier’s eyes lingered on my chest for a full four seconds, as if drilling through me. His stare shifted away, pretending nothing had happened, from the loose clothes I was wearing.

And now, the climax was approaching.
The convenience store clerk, at last, noticed my crutch. Along with it came that sticky, unpleasant sympathy.

This guy seemed pretty introverted, so I thought he’d probably say something like:

“Um, do you need any help?”
— "Um, do you need any help?”

Bingo.
I held back the bitter smile threatening to break out.

There was something I wanted to say, something in the back of my mind:
Screw off. Even though I’m a cripple who can barely walk, did you seriously think I’d let you have a chance with me?
I don’t need your pity, so stay behind the counter and keep your eyes where they belong before I gouge them out.

But picking a fight requires both courage and energy.
I had neither, and my body was completely worn out from just coming down the stairs.
So all I could do was force a smile.

At least, fortunately for me, I was still annoyingly pretty, even in this frail, skinny body.

“Yes. Sorry, could you please ring up three cups of mild ramen and help me cook one?”
“You’ll be eating here, right? Just give me your card and have a seat over there. I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.”
“Thanks. You’re very kind.”

I traded my pride for a bit of comfort.

No, I knew it wasn’t even about pride.
The cashier just wasn’t used to women, and seeing that I was struggling, he decided to offer a little help.
The only thing twisted here was my personality.

The cashier packed two of the cup noodles into a bag and cooked one for me.
I could feel him glancing at me every now and then, but I decided not to care.
I could forget about it while I looked at my phone.

Plugging in the earbuds I had spent quite a bit of money on, I navigated to a gaming community, as usual.

[Posted by: Anonymous (411.36)]
[Title: Today’s GIF of Gawol Wrecking Bun]
[Upvotes: 107]

Honestly, it’s always a given that Gawol wins when they go up against Bun, but there was a cool moment today.
It’s when Bun charged forward with his shield…

[Posted by: InGallery (318.235)]
[Title: Did Sigma Esports Just Re-sign Lucé???]

The Infinity Black gallery.
I wasn’t the type to hang out in galleries, but sometimes I needed a change of pace.
Whenever I felt like my brain needed stimulation, I would open up the gallery.

There wasn’t any profound reason behind it.

Most mainstream sites didn’t mention Gawol.
I had killed so many streamers and pro gamers that I earned the ire of their fans.
At some point, Gawol had become a sort of taboo, which is why I didn’t visit those sites unless I needed information.

[Posted by: HappyGradStudent]
[Title: Summary of Next Season's Ranked Game Changes]

Infinity Black was in a sort of lull.
A massive overhaul was expected in the next season, so no one knew how the power dynamics of the siege guilds would shift.
Even pro gamers who specialized in ranked matches and the giant guilds were laying low, trying to avoid making new enemies.

At least, that’s what everyone thought.

In reality, it wasn’t like that.
There was no such thing as peace in a game like Infinity Black, where scheming and manipulation ruled.
If you die in the field, you can’t log in for four hours, which means falling behind in the endless farming race.

If you secretly kill your opponent now, you’ll gain the upper hand.
I’m the only one in this game who can kill famous players and do it without suspicion.
Right now, my worth is at its highest.

Of course, it’s nowhere near the kind of money I could make from streaming or becoming a pro gamer.
My only source of income was the money I extorted from guilds in exchange for farming items.

[Posted by: Anonymous (423.28)]
[Title: Hey, Did a Volcano Just Erupt in Iceland?]

[Posted by: Han River Junk]
[Title: Sigma Esports’ Second String Got Killed by Gawol Today, Why Don’t They Go Pro?]

[Posted by: Anonymous (423.62)]
[Title: Is Gawol Some Kind of Chaebol Heir or Something?]

I froze for a moment.
The ramen I had been wolfing down stopped in my mouth.

Maybe opening this community was a mistake.
Reading that unnecessary post killed my appetite.
The moment I saw the disgusting post, I should’ve turned off my phone screen.

I had eaten enough, so I decided to just throw the rest away.
Not that there was much left, anyway.

Now that I was full, it was better to get back to the game.
It’s not that I didn’t want to stream or become a pro gamer.
It was just a path I could no longer walk.

My username, Gawol.
It was actually a typo—I meant to type “Sawol” (April).
April was the time when I lost everything.

From that day on, I couldn't walk anymore.

   
    * * *
   
   

[Han Da-hoon, overwhelming victory at the National Kendo Championship]
[Korean national team coach: "Han Da-hoon will become an unprecedented player in kendo history"]

Congratulations were pouring in from everywhere.
My parents, who had always quietly supported me from behind.
My coach, who had steadfastly guided me.
My phone was buzzing with countless messages.

Today should have been a happy day.
And yet, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling.

“Da-hoon, did you see the article? Coach Kim said he has really high hopes for you this time.”
“Well... I saw it.”
“You don’t seem too happy. Are you still thinking about Jae-hyun?”
“He was my friend. A rival. I could’ve beaten him if we faced off next time. But even though I won, it doesn’t feel like a real victory. It’s like the match ended at the semifinals.”

It was all because of that stupid friend.
He was like a monster, someone I’d wanted to surpass my entire life, but now I couldn’t.
Without the strongest rival I ever had, my victory felt like a half-win.

It was all because of that strange novel.
Lately, he’d been obsessed with some story about a saintess and her reverse harem, completely engrossed in it.
The person who was said to be a once-in-a-lifetime genius in kendo history was hit by a truck and died.

There’s a rumor, something about how if you get hit by a truck, you reincarnate in another world.
I hope that was true for him.
He was far too extraordinary to leave this world in such a meaningless way.
If I wanted to take his place, I still had a long way to go.

“Still, keep your head high. It wouldn’t be fair to the ones you beat if you walked around like this. If you won, act like the winner. Jae-hyun wouldn’t like seeing you sulk around.”
“…You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“As long as you know. Go home early and spend some time with your parents today. Starting tomorrow, we’ll begin preparations for the world championships.”
“Yes, I’ll do my best.”
“Take it easy. You’re already doing well, so how much better are you trying to get? I’m sure when those foreign players watch today’s match, they’ll piss their pants.”

Coach patted me on the back and sent me off to my parents.
His short words were a great comfort to me.
Thanks to him, I was able to finish the day with a lighter heart and prepare for the next step.

To be honest, there wasn’t anyone abroad who seemed like a real match for me.

The difference in the opponents I had faced so far was huge.
No one in this world radiated the overwhelming presence that Jae-hyun had, so I couldn’t imagine losing to anyone else.
Not that I intended to take it easy, of course.

“Coach Jung, how’s Da-hoon doing these days? He didn’t let his win get to his head, right?”
“No way. If anything, he’s even more determined than before. Even if Jae-hyun were still here, I can’t say for sure who’d win between them now.”
“That good?”
“Yes. That kid is definitely going to win the world championship this time.”

I clenched my teeth and pushed myself every day.
There was only one way left for me to prove myself.

Watch me. I’m the best player in the world right now.
So the only person who can challenge and defeat you is me.
I lost the last match we had, but this time would’ve been different.

To say that, I needed to win the world championship.
The weight of the title “pro.” The blinding spotlight. The honor of being the best in the world.
To me, all of that felt like a promise I had made to him.

‘This is how I’ll honor our friendship.’

As time passed, my senses sharpened.
Had he seen the world like this all along?
It felt like I could read every tiny muscle movement and breath of my opponent.

No one in Korea was a match for me anymore.
Not the master who had taught me the sword, not the coach who had once been able to keep up with my pace, and not the other athletes at the training center.
They all crumbled easily.
By the time we were about to leave for the tournament, no one even wanted to spar with me, citing the need for mental preparation.

I could do this.
At this rate, I’d win for sure.
A powerful conviction took root in me.

But I never made it to the competition.