[Notification: A 30-minute break is now granted.]

“Ahhh, we’re only halfway through!”

“You all did great.”

“Wow, amazing. I’ve never seen things go this smoothly after playing six rounds in a row.”

Time passed, and half of the scrimmage seemed to vanish in an instant. After completing six out of twelve matches, all teams were given a collective break to regroup. It was a chance to exchange feedback between players, coaches, and first and second teams, while allowing both their bodies and minds to cool down from the intensity.

But today, there was a celebratory atmosphere among the Korean team. And it was no surprise—when was the last time things had gone this smoothly? Even in the prestigious KSM league, they hadn’t experienced anything quite like this—a mind-blowing performance that left everyone feeling electrified.

It wasn’t like their performance had skyrocketed out of nowhere; the improvement was subtle, yet significant. But even a minor difference, like a snowball gathering momentum, led to results far exceeding expectations.

The proof? The scoreboard, which clearly displayed Korea’s first team dominating the field.

The past two weeks had been dedicated to intense physical training and a highly efficient curriculum. All of this allowed them to maintain their stamina, even in the final moments of the match, where focus typically starts to falter.

Not only that, but under Eugene's leadership, unnecessary movements were eliminated, streamlining combat strategies. They’d spent those two weeks rigorously training in movement-based shooting and targeting moving objects. The outcome? Less ammo wasted, more damage inflicted on the enemy.

In combat, where every action is interconnected like a chain, this had provided them with an unexpected advantage.

“Two weeks isn’t a lot of time, right? I structured the curriculum to be as beneficial as possible within that timeframe, but honestly, I wasn’t entirely sure it would be this effective. Does anyone feel like something was missing?”

“No, ma’am!”

“I’m more impressed with how Eugene managed to bring everyone to this level in just two weeks,” Dice remarked, not quite complaining.

But it was true—less ammo wasted, more damage inflicted. That meant their opponents were the ones retreating during combat, not them. The time their enemies spent taking cover to heal was crucial—a window where the fire of battle briefly flickered out. The dominant side could use that time to reload or think about their next move.

These small differences began to stack up—one, two, three, four. The more they piled on, the more pressure mounted on the enemy. That’s how the snowball rolled, giving Korea’s first team an overwhelming advantage—even the players themselves were surprised.

“Why is this working so well…?”

It wasn’t as if the curriculum was completely different from before. There were some key differences, but nothing entirely unfamiliar. It was more about fine-tuning small details rather than starting from scratch.

But the more those details were adjusted, the bigger the overall effect. Just like two beams of light that start off at a slightly different angle, after traveling 300,000 kilometers, they end up in entirely different places.

Even minor factors that had been previously overlooked were now controlled. If something was deemed unnecessary or a weakness, it was swiftly cut out, and anything useful was honed to its maximum potential through additional training.

Because of this, the others—except Dice—began to look at Eugene with a mix of awe and admiration.

“This is seriously incredible…”

“It’s a shame only four of us can go to the finals. It really sucks.”

If this was the result after just two weeks—admittedly with the kind of hardcore training no one had ever experienced before—then what could they achieve if they continued this level of training until the final championship, three months from now?

The previous curriculum had been like carving out a large piece of stone. But Eugene wasn’t just carving—she was polishing it, smoothing every edge with meticulous care.

It didn’t take them long to realize that the difference between victory and defeat could come down to these small details. And this was just a scrimmage. The Asian qualifiers were still days away.

As the heated atmosphere began to cool down, a sense of greed slowly crept into everyone’s minds.

And the sharp ones were already aware of one crucial fact.

‘...Even though Korea can send four players, isn’t it actually only two that matter?’

One of them would be Eugene. The other, Dice.

If by some miracle, Taiwan was utterly defeated, and Korea, in turn, took first place overall, perhaps an extra slot would open up for the finals…

Wait a minute.

But even if that happened, only three other players besides Eugene and Dice would make it. A fiercely competitive lineup, no doubt. Some had thought about how they might bring down Dice, but it was impossible. The difference between someone who had trained with Eugene for a month and the rest of the team was just… too much to bridge.

It was almost unfairly so.

And so, came the inevitable question:

“Eugene, have you ever thought about joining our team after your contract is up? I was really impressed by that interview where you said the balance of power must be maintained.”

“What? Hey, no! Get them! They’re trying to poach her!”

“Hang them! Burn them at the stake!”

“…Why is everyone suddenly losing their minds?” Eugene muttered.

Despite how hard they had pushed themselves in the matches, they still had energy left to burn, as they quickly devolved into chaos. Dice, clinging to Eugene in despair at the thought of not being able to rest on her tail, and the rest, now getting dragged into the mess, looked back at her with exasperated expressions.

“I was planning on doing a feedback session after a short break, but it seems everyone still has plenty of stamina left. Maybe I should do a theory lecture right now,” Eugene said sarcastically.

“That’s a bad idea, Eugene,” Dice replied, sighing. “I’m serious.”

“I was joking,” Eugene grinned.

Though, she didn’t clarify which part of her statement was the joke.

Regardless, after watching the chaotic scene for a moment, Eugene turned back to Dice and resumed their conversation.

“If you feel like something’s missing from your scrim performance or if there’s anything you need to work on, let me know quickly.”

“Hmm, honestly, I think I’m fine. As long as I stick to what I’ve been doing, I don’t see any major issues. By the way, where do you plan on going after this?”

“Curious, are you?”

“…Of course, I am.”

Eugene laughed softly.

“I don’t really see a reason to join any professional team, to be honest.”

“Sometimes I feel like you don’t take the Dark Zone too seriously. Just promise me you won’t disappear on us without a word one day.”

“Of course.”

Though she answered, Dice’s words had hit on something deeper, subtly touching on Eugene’s most closely guarded secret.

In truth, Eugene was curious too. The biggest driving force behind her actions was the mystery surrounding the Dark Zone itself—the fact that the world she had been to existed as a game, and why that game knew about her…

Thankfully, beyond her desire to uncover the truth, she had begun to grow roots in this world as well. If efficiency had been her only concern, she would’ve flown to the U.S. the moment she learned about the Dark Zone.

And she certainly wouldn’t have bothered with streaming.

“I’ll think about where to go after we win the finals.”

“Now that’s the Eugene I know. But where are you going now?”

“I’m going to stop them from causing any more chaos,” Eugene said, standing up.

As Dice watched her walk away, the snake tail swaying behind her slowly disappeared from view.

And shortly after…

“Kyahhh!”

“Waaaah, I’m going to die! Eugene, no! Eugene, please! Aghhh!”

“Stop wasting energy on nonsense and start thinking about what questions you want to ask me after the scrim.”

Violence.

In the end, overwhelming force was always the answer to ending chaos.

Eugene rounded up the rowdy players like a broom sweeping up dust and, while they were still dazed and pliable, dragged over a chair and started the debrief.

It was Tuesday, in the second week of October, and there was still a long way to go.

“That’s brutal. What are we supposed to do for the next three days if the first team is playing like this?”

“Someone please stop them!”

Meanwhile, not everyone could cheer for Korea’s first team’s overwhelming performance so easily.

The second team, especially, had a reason to be concerned. After their match against Taiwan the day before, they still had to face Russia, Japan, and China’s first teams over the next three days and extract as much data as possible.

Though they were half-joking when they asked what they were supposed to do in the face of such overwhelming performance, the truth was they weren’t entirely wrong.

There was a good chance that the intensity of the first teams’ attacks over the next few days would be even stronger than anticipated, given how the first team had demolished their competition today.

Scrims were meant to test and gauge each other’s strengths, but they were also an opportunity for countries to engage in power struggles. With Korea’s first team now on another level thanks to Eugene, the odds of other countries sitting still and letting it happen were slim.

“Do you think the other teams will take this calmly?”

“Not a chance.”

Even if they said, “Don’t get swept up in the mind games,” it wasn’t that easy. Pride was an even more powerful motivator than reason or capitalist logic.

Though they were the second team, they were still representatives of their country. With Korea having humiliated their rivals today, the battles over the next few days were going to be even harder.

But that wasn’t all bad. The more seriously their opponents played, the more data they could gather.

It was a simple logic.

And besides, the analysts from the other countries would already know that Korea’s second team had also been trained by Eugene. The real fireworks were likely to start tomorrow.

“If they have any decency, the first team should treat us to a meal, seriously.”

“Right? If they don’t, we should just pull their network cables.”

“Didn’t Eugene win a department store gift card last time? Maybe we can convince her with a VR apology bow.”

“Tell me it’s a VR bow and not in real life, or I’ll bury you alive.”

“Of course, of course.”

As the light-hearted banter continued, Blooming, who had gotten closer to the second team players, joined the conversation.

“What are you guys talking about?”

“We’re just saying Eugene should treat us to a meal.”

“You all must be insane—or you’ve got some serious guts.”

Maybe they hadn’t suffered enough under Eugene yet?

As someone who had been worked to the bone by SSM long before KSM, Blooming couldn’t understand their audacity. But, then again, people came in all types.

Anyway, the conversation naturally continued. Blooming understood why they’d bring up the idea of getting a meal from Eugene, and it wasn’t a completely unreasonable suggestion. After all, Blooming was also part of the second team now, and from tomorrow onwards, the battles were going to be fierce.

Being part of SSM did have its perks, though. Having a connection with Eugene meant something. Blooming knew her well enough to realize that while it wasn’t impossible, asking her to treat them to a meal right in the middle of a scrimmage was a bit… much.

Especially since they still had matches ahead of them, and any promises for the future were far from guaranteed.

“...I’ll bring it up carefully later, but for now, let’s drop the meal idea. Asking outright is a bit much.”

“Yeah, we weren’t being completely serious anyway.”

A sigh followed.

In reality, the second team’s importance in this scrimmage was as great—if not greater—than the first team’s. The thought weighed heavily on their shoulders.

A dry voice broke the silence.

“Do you think we’ll do well tomorrow?”

But in the end, as students of Eugene—and let’s be real, half of them were forcefully trained by her—that question seemed meaningless.

Their blood, sweat, and efforts over the past two weeks were what would carry them through tomorrow.

No one answered the question thrown into the air.

The scrim resumed.