NoveLight ™
At 5 AM, even the mountains and trees had long since fallen asleep.
It was a time when the streetlights and illumination were turned off, and everything was shrouded in sleep. It was too early to be sleeping, a moment that could decide whether one had stayed up all night… especially since the day before had been Christmas. A day that comes only once a year should have been splendidly celebrated.
However, today.
At 5 AM on December 26, Monday, numerous chicken shops and bars were bustling with activity, more than ever before. People who had just awakened or who hadn’t slept at all wandered about the darkened streets.
Instead of the electronic billboards and holographic displays that should have been off, advertisements blared one after another, and inside restaurants that had opened around 4 AM, the sounds of chatter and clamor filled the air.
All for a single reason.
“Wow!”
“Look at everyone shouting from all directions. This is insane. So many people are awake at 5 AM?”
“How can they withstand the live broadcast?”
The last week of December.
The annual leave that office workers hadn’t used up or had saved for this week melted away like tissue paper touched by water. What remained was not regret or remorse, but cheers.
Those who welcomed the cold air outside watched the match through holographic projectors attached to the tables at the restaurants, while those who preferred the warmth of home invited friends and acquaintances over for a belated party.
The businesses, submerged in the thick darkness, regained their early or overly late liveliness, and lights turned on in the windows of the apartment complexes.
This year, South Korea had achieved remarkable results in the Apex Predator competition, and anyone even slightly interested in the Dark Zone could not have missed the user known as the "Snake Tail."
And today, she and her team were challenging the Final Championship.
Among those watching were many who had just set foot in New York, but not a single one of the Koreans witnessing the scene had any worries.
“How do you think they’ll rank?”
“I think they’ll definitely place in the top five, no matter what. The embargo on the scrim results in preparation for the Final Championship has been lifted, right? They’ve never gone below fifth.”
“Scary, really.”
5 AM is a time when it’s hard to get up, but it’s not impossible to wake up.
The last week of December in Korea was bustling. Not only was the voice of the live broadcast host pouring from the holograms, but streamers were also discussing this event, interacting with their viewers in real time on unofficial streams.
These heavy gamers and streamers, who delved into every tiny detail, had their own logic, while casual viewers, without any specific reason—yet with countless arrows pointing in one direction.
The results that Yujin herself had built up over the past few months would elevate all the players present at that venue to a higher dimension.
And this was manifested as a concrete question.
<You have received a donation of 10,000 won from a user whose whole body aches!>
“Thank you very much for the 10,000 won donation. As for the Korean team’s strength? With a bit of exaggeration, I’d say it’s similar to or just below the North American teams, right? Given that our squad team literally smashed the British team’s heads in last week…”
It was as she said.
The results from the match that took place last week were truly shocking.
Though they had practiced so hard under their mentor that their eyes had nearly rolled back in their heads, the Korean squad and duo teams couldn’t be said to be direct disciples of Yujin. Yet, they had wiped the floor with one of the strong candidates for victory, the British team, in their first match.
Though they lacked information and resorted to traps to corner their opponents, the scene itself hinted at so much— the simplest trap had rolled a massive snowball, and the results were so powerful that the enemy was taken down in mere minutes.
Only a profound understanding of skills could yield such results, and at that point, North American and European teams began to feel their grip over the Korean team slipping away.
After such a surprise, a curiosity began to creep into everyone’s minds.
“Wow, if the squad team is that good, how strong are those who were actually trained directly?”
Chaos, chaos, and more chaos.
However, at this point, there was no one who could properly answer such questions—not even professional gamers who had not boarded the plane to New York, let alone the general public who had never faced Yujin even once.
In other words, although the sum of questions and discussions exceeded tens of thousands, there was not a single person in Korea who could provide answers.
However, in the meantime—there was someone positioned somewhat ambiguously.
While there were many partner streamers in the Dark Zone, it was not the case that no one existed who had accepted Yujin’s invitation to New York and could comfortably settle into a warm seat at Madison Square Garden.
Currently running the largest secondary streaming channel in Korea, she could convey the vibrant heat of the venue more intensely than anyone else.
The first full buyer of Yujin coins.
Noknyang, also known as Harmony, confidently took that position.
[Harmony // ON AIR // (This isn’t a communication room; it’s just a relay)]
[Current viewer count: 3,169,478]
“Ah, wow. How many viewers do we have?”
Since the scene was being broadcast through a drone camera, Harmony’s voice couldn’t even be heard. One could only be grateful that the screen wasn’t shaking, but neither the streamer nor the viewers paid any attention.
The heat conveyed through the screen and surroundings drove everyone nearly mad.
There were no donations or anything, but Harmony didn’t care about that. This broadcast was a minimum duty as a streamer, and practically, as could be seen in the broadcast title, there was no communication with viewers to begin with.
Meanwhile, on a different note.
As the opening speech began, Henry made his appearance on stage. Those who knew him and those who didn’t mixed together and started countless discussions, but those watching the official stream had no need for that.
A future presidential candidate affiliated with the Democratic Party. That alone concluded all explanations, and as he exchanged handshakes and hugs with representatives from each continent, the chatroom naturally flared up.
The map draw.
Just last year, it was the most nerve-wracking moment. The memory of wishing for a weak map, having not made proper preparations, still lingered from a year ago, and as the same words spoken at the last Final Championship came out, Yujin instinctively turned her head.
But the moment Yujin filled the screen with an expression devoid of any tension, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
There would be no repeat of last year’s events.
And with a cold or lively voice, the first map was selected.
“...NBV Desert Base? I didn’t expect that map at all.”
The map had been chosen.
The dice had been rolled.
It was the moment when everyone pressed down on the accelerator.
“...Having come this far, I don’t have much advice to give you all. Just one thing I ask.”
“What is it?”
“It would be best for you to avoid Logan at all costs. No, seriously, just stay away from him. You don’t want to be launched to the lobby without reason.”
That was a request Yujin had never made before.
The four gathered there resolved to avoid Logan at all costs.
A bridge laid upon land that allowed no footfall.
But originally, it should have functioned as a network hub, the desert base. Built by human hands, it rapidly deteriorated due to problems caused by humanity, and the desert reclaimed its original calm.
It had to be reclaimed.
“...Hoo.”
Nearly a hundred people jumped from the transport aircraft, crossing the skies of the base. Until landing on the ground, all avatars were kept private, so no one knew who was landing where, and the flight route of the transport was secret to prevent anyone from landing at the same spot.
Users had to gauge their locations through the terrain visible as they jumped down, naturally cultivating their ability to land where they desired.
And the moment all one hundred landed on the ground, a sandstorm began to approach from beyond.
“For a first match, this welcome is harsh…”
It wasn’t limited to the revolutions on each map.
Opening the box as soon as they landed. The map was vast, and the initial engagement depended on whether enemies were landing nearby, and sadly, in this instance, it was the latter. Inside the box was a pistol with a decent accessory setup, several magazines, and a simple tactical vest for light armor.
After quickly loading the gun—
—Taang! Taang! Taang!
Gunfire erupted immediately in the direction where a presence was detected. Without aiming, just relying on sight, dry sand flew up as shots rang out. And at the end of it was a user wearing a prototype optical camouflage suit.
The space shimmered beyond the dry air, and the enemy vanished. I chased after him actively. Even if it wasn’t visible on the surface, the tracks left in the sand were unavoidable.
And the enemy who made it this far surely couldn’t have been unaware of that.
“Ho.”
Piiing!
The enemy's bullet grazed my body narrowly. Up to this point, neither the enemy nor I had hit a single shot. But that wouldn’t be the case going forward. As the distance rapidly closed, I stepped well within effective range, and the suppressor spat out flames.
Two rounds in my body. Five in the enemy's. But it seemed the enemy was already wearing body armor, as even though the shield broke, it didn’t deal significant damage.
Having consumed about half of the 20-round magazine, the odds were fifty-fifty, no, at least better than that. There was no reason not to close the distance further, but the enemy quickly assessed my identity and darted into the complex interior of the building.
Quickly double-checking the map in my head. This area was surrounded by high rocks, so there were no escape routes except for a few specific paths.
If that user happened to be one of Dice, Mikael, Gambit, or Ink… well, it would be my fault for not practicing escape until now. I’d have to teach them how to run away properly before the next match.
In any case, while I was pondering this, I had already assessed the costs and benefits.
I ignored the enemy who had fled into the building.
I expected to have a chance for re-engagement within a maximum of three minutes.
And about exactly three minutes later—
—Padddeuk!
A bullet from an SMG with a suppressor zipped through the air. Gunfire began against the backdrop of the complex structures of the base.
It was only natural to be cautious about entering. As the competition progressed to larger tournaments, the enemies’ combat skills became more refined, which applied not only to aiming and immediate response but also to skills for setting traps and hiding.
I, too, had installed various traps inside the building I had farmed, so the enemy would undoubtedly have done the same. Therefore, neither I nor they were willing to approach carelessly, with the thought of retreating into the building at any time if things got serious.
However,
—Click!
I was well-versed in direct engagements.
Of course, the fact that I was preparing a grenade at this point meant that the enemy also had a chance to prepare a grenade. I briefly peered out from cover to quickly check my surroundings, but the enemy was not easily visible.
Through several exchanges, both I and the enemy knew each other’s positions well, and if I assumed that they had thoroughly analyzed my tactics during this time… then the enemy was likely to use a grenade to either divert my gaze elsewhere or to make a direct strike.
And that became the reality.
As I keenly watched the sky, a black mass arced through the air.
“Well, that’s expected.”
Simultaneously pulling the pin from the grenade with my right hand, I gripped my pistol firmly with my left and aimed quickly into the air.
The moment I pulled the trigger, the projectile slammed against the primer. Feeling the recoil in my hand, a single bullet flew through the air—it should have soared hundreds of meters into the sky in what was originally just a split second.
Of course, that didn’t happen.
With a loud clang, the grenade’s trajectory spun wildly.
I had shot the grenade to hit it.
How much time had passed since then?
—Kwahhng!
The dented grenade floated in the air longer than expected and exploded before hitting the ground.
It was not the anticipated result, but it was not an unusable one either—the surface of the grenade was hard and curved. If it penetrated well, it could explode or become inoperative, but in most rare cases of aerial intercept, the grenade’s trajectory would just spin out of control.
And in that moment, I dashed out from behind cover.
The follow-up attack could not come. It was unexpected.
Then it was time to return the favor.
“Hup…!”
Click.
Now the grenade that had just begun cooking was thrown with the considerable strength of its creator. But it wasn’t a curve or a parabola; it flew ‘in a straight line’ toward the location where the enemy was and, within a second, struck the ground with a metallic sound and bounced into the air.
As it exploded near the enemy, a bit of smoke and a brief flame burst forth, scattering hundreds of metal fragments everywhere, while I had already closed the distance by more than 10 meters.
The enemy curled up as soon as the grenade detonated, then leaned over the cover again to attempt to aim. However, the time taken for all these actions was considerable.
Specifically—
—Ugggh!
As I approached close enough to bash the enemy's head in with my rifle stock.
“Gack…!”
Their skull was caved in.
They were likely overwhelmed with countless status ailments that would take more than a minute to recover from, and their HP would surely be proportionate to that.
Without hesitation, I raised my weapon.
—Padddeuk!
Four minutes had passed since it began.
It was a glorious start.