Kendo is undeniably a martial art discipline.
Although it has become a sport today, it originally stems from a form of combat meant to kill an opponent.
In such a practice, injuries are naturally part of the process.

In fact, during the times before the development of bamboo swords (shinai), it wasn’t uncommon for people to die during training.
Even though there were no blades, wooden swords (bokken) were essentially blunt weapons.
Of course, even with bamboo swords, small injuries were still common.

So, being hurt or in pain was something I had grown used to.

What was truly agonizing, though, was rotting away in isolation without feeling any pain.
What I needed was the certainty that I was making progress.
As long as I had that certainty, I could endure anything else.

[You have been killed by …….]
[No death penalty applied due to ‘Training Mode’.]
[Reviving in the ‘Player Waiting Room’.]

Death kept coming.
My heart was pierced, my neck was cut, and my guts were crushed.
I clutched my chest several times, gasping for air.

But with the pain came a certain exhilaration.
Weapons barely missed me by a hair’s breadth, and the sensation of stepping back just at the decisive moment felt electrifying.

I could start to feel it now.
As I exchanged attacks with my opponent, I could sense where their gaze was focused.
I could feel how their breathing became unnatural when they staked their life on the line.

Good. I was getting better.
Let’s go again.

[You have been killed by …….]

I tread on death as I moved forward.
To be honest, there was no need to go this far.
What Sigma wanted was battle data. To be more precise, they wanted ‘data from various situational variables.’

Even Sigma acknowledged that high synchronization rates came with risks.
So, they hadn’t demanded anything absurd, like experiencing extreme situations over and over again, as if facing constant death.
For instance, if I had to stab a dagger into my left leg right now, I would hesitate quite a bit.

Luce had also leaned toward lowering the synchronization rate, which was a unique feature of the neural interface.
I didn’t understand the technical details, but apparently, the connection device my parents made had been more helpful than expected.
So, there was no need to push myself too hard.

‘Still, it’s better to have it, right?’

Despite going through countless battles and deaths, Han Da-eun didn’t fall into shock.
Even if such a thing were to happen, Sigma could take immediate action.
With that as my foundation, I could push back and carve a path forward.

The more fiercely I endured, the sooner I could return to paradise.
After all, I had died plenty of times in the game before.
That damp, dark room I once endured was far worse than this phantom pain.

Moreover, this was the dream I had always longed for.
How long had I waited to stand in the pro scene?
I had always wanted to prove my skills, to prove who I was as a person.

Now that the opportunity had come, there was no way I would run away just because it hurt.
If I were that kind of person, I wouldn’t have held onto this miserable life for so long.

[Victory.]
[Prepare yourself. Your next opponent will be sent in without delay.]

Pain surged through the hand gripping the dagger.
No, it was life itself that surged.

Camellia. Shin Eun-chae thought that the word "venom" was the best word to describe Gawol.

She understood that Gawol couldn’t be placed in the category of an ordinary person.
To her, Gawol was someone obsessed with victory to the point of being almost mentally ill—and in truth, that was exactly what he was.
She simply hadn’t realized it was to this extent.

How many hours had passed since this practice began so boldly?
The once-competitive atmosphere of hostility and determination had given way to growing silence.
In the heavy, oppressive air, one man finally summoned the courage to speak.

His voice carried the weight of defeat.

"Can we… stop for today?"

"Already?"

"It’s not ‘already,’ we’ve been at this for hours."

"Hmm. Fine. If you’re tired, there’s no helping it. Pushing any further would just lower our efficiency."

Order had been established.
At this point, there was no choice but to admit it, no matter how much they didn’t want to.
Eun-chae, watching from a distance, let out a faint smile.

The room that had been full of animosity was now filled with a sense of awe.
Displayed on the main screen in the center of the practice room was a message the second-tier players probably never wanted to see.

[ALL KILL]
[Rule: 5-man continuous elimination]
[Battlefield: Hall of Shadows]
[Achiever: Gawol (Assassin)]

Luck had played its part, too.
The Hall of Shadows was practically a home field for assassins, and among the players in this round, there had even been a trainee.
Still, the achievement of an all-kill wasn’t diminished.

How many first-tier pros could achieve something like this?
There was a reason Luce had been so eager to recruit Gawol, even with the issues surrounding the connection device.

‘On top of that, he’s got more stamina than a current pro...’

Sigma eSports was not known for a light training regimen.
Korea, traditionally, is a country that grinds its people down to achieve efficiency.
That time-honored culture was no exception in the eSports world, and they still led the world in terms of training intensity.

Even for a second-tier player, a pro is a pro.
They naturally expected Gawol to be physically inferior.
The result, however, was hard to believe.

The practice room was now empty, with everyone having left.
Eun-chae quietly sat beside Da-eun in the vacant seat.
Her pretty eyes glanced at her for a moment, before pretending not to care, as she fiddled with her phone.

"Are you not going to eat?"

"I just don’t feel like it right now."

"You’ve probably been told to put on some weight a lot."

"I don’t want to hear nagging…"

Ah, she had become withdrawn.
Camellia’s lips curved into a slight grin.
Though she didn’t say it aloud, it was almost as if she could hear Da-eun grumbling in her mind.

"Come on, eat something. You’ll need your strength for practice."

"Why? Are you going to eat with me?"

"If you finish it all, sure. How about a sandwich?"

"…Fine. Give it to me. I’ll eat."

Chewing. Swallowing.

Da-eun stuffed food into her small mouth.
Watching her hurriedly sip her coffee as she ate, it seemed like she was trying to finish quickly.
But due to her physical limitations, she couldn’t eat fast.

Seeing her like that, she just looked like a small, timid animal.
It was hard to believe that this person was really Gawol.
Even though they’d met several times now, Camellia still found it strange.

"Are you sure you’re okay? I thought you weren’t supposed to overdo it."

"I can do this all day."

"That’s such an old line."

"Shut up. I like this."

Despite her words, she didn’t look well.

Already looking fragile to begin with,
her tired expression as she sipped her coffee made Camellia feel guilty, as if she’d done something wrong.
Like, what had she done to let this small, delicate girl end up like this?

Even though Da-eun was technically the older one.

‘She’s over twenty with that face? Really?’

With her youthful appearance, one could easily believe she was just a girl.
The quiet, gloomy aura she exuded was palpable.
If it wasn’t for the faint sensuality of decay surrounding her, people might just say, “Kids these days sure are growing up fast.”

Maybe that’s why?

Speaking formally was fine,
but Camellia couldn’t bring herself to call her "unnie" (older sister).
Somewhere deep inside her chest, something screamed that it was a line that couldn’t be crossed.

If Shin Eun-chae were to call Han Da-eun "unnie" outside in public,
anyone who witnessed it would feel like they were trapped in some bizarre social experiment.
As a woman, that just felt too pathetic.

"I tried using that neural connection device. I was curious."

"Really? How was it?"

"I don’t think it’s something a human should be doing."

"Pfft… you’ll get used to it."

The typical synchronization rate for professional gamers was around 20%.
However, Gawol’s current synchronization rate was at 65.8%.

And that was lower than it had been in the Arena.
It wasn’t just an offhand comment—Camellia truly believed it was something no human should be doing.

Once synchronization exceeds 20%, you can sense the state of your body just from the feeling.
You can feel exactly where your body is broken,
whether the injury is fatal or if it’s something you can endure.

In other words, it’s pain so vivid, it feels real.
The 65.8% that Camellia had experienced was on par with reality.

Fighting an all-out brawl, slicing each other’s bodies apart with that level of pain?
If the roles had been reversed, could she have done it?
A creeping sense of defeat rose within her. Camellia suppressed her competitive spirit for now.

"How long are you planning to stay today?"

"Until there’s no one left to practice with."

"What kind of weird standard is that?"

"It’s too complicated to explain. You’ll understand when you experience it."

And she was right.
Two hours later, unable to win even a single round, Camellia stormed back to the dorms in frustration.
Only then did Han Da-eun finally head home.

[Post by: Elderen]
[Title: Guest appearance on tomorrow’s stream!]

ლ(ㆍωㆍლ)

Not going to tell you who it is.
But I’m sure everyone already knows, right?

[Comments]
- So, Tenryeon’s finally coming?