Even though my synchronization rate had dropped, the wind in the game still felt refreshingly crisp. As I made my rounds, I greeted some streamers with a light hello and others with the gift of death. The kill list I kept was still very much active.
[You are now under the effect of ‘Blessing of the Ashen Moon.’]
[For up to 10 seconds, you can melt into the shadows within 10 meters of any player…]
Signing with Sigma had undeniably improved my situation. The endless drain on my balance—primarily from the astronomical costs of treating my leg—was now being offset by Sigma’s financial support. Thanks to them, I no longer had to scrape by on ramen and supplements.
Although, in the end, it was still Sigma’s money that was going into those costs. Either way, I was now in a position where I could spend the money I earned on myself. I no longer needed to take on mercenary contracts from siege guilds just to maintain my field PK lifestyle. However… you could say some habits die hard. Killing streamers had always been more of a hobby for me.
Why should I stop doing something I’m both good at and enjoy?
“Hello?”
“Oh, come on! How long are you going to—”
I had decided to kill them, and I could. After all, it was their fault for landing on my hit list in the first place! I had no reason to let them live.
The ambush was perfect, slicing through their side. They were a skilled streamer too, reacting quickly. The sound of metal clashing echoed as our daggers collided.
I feinted to the right and struck from the opposite direction.
When their hand moved to draw a hidden weapon, I stabbed it. I ripped my blade free from their hand like tearing open a wound.
They were blocked from making one move, so the next step was obvious. They’d likely reach for a backup dagger at their waist. I was quicker and snatched it away before they could.
I succeeded, but… stealing is wrong. No matter how real this game feels, it’s still just a game. If something doesn’t belong to you, it doesn’t become yours just because you took it for a moment.
I should probably give it back, right? After all, I’m not someone with sticky fingers. While they fumbled with the now-empty dagger sheath, I threw the blade right between their eyes, making sure they could see it.
“Here, it’s yours.”
[You have forcibly killed adventurer ‘KimchiNinja.’]
[You have stolen 1,082,625 Gold from the opponent’s possessions.]
[You have claimed the bounty of 12,200,000 Gold for killing a wanted criminal.]
I didn’t think that would actually hit. Have my standards become too high? Seeing them collapse without much resistance made me chuckle.
I had been a bit worried since I’d been away for a while, but it seemed my PvP skills hadn’t dulled much, even though I hadn’t logged into the main game. My instincts in the field were still sharp.
In fact, I even felt like I had improved. With my synchronization rate lower, it was easier to endure pain, and I had been practicing with pro gamers recently. I could clearly see my opponents' movements now.
I was having so much fun… I ended up sweeping through the platform, leaving no streamers live.
After finishing off KimchiNinja, my patrol was over. It had been a while since I logged into the game, and I felt a bit of thirst. I wanted to see more blood.
That’s when something caught my eye.
‘Wouldn’t now be a pretty good time?’
On impulse, I pressed the button.
[Would you like to start a ranked match? Y/N]
[Random matching is now starting.]
[Searching for an opponent… Estimated time: 03:30]
In a game where rank exists, your tier is a matter of pride. Most gamer debates inevitably end with the question, "So what’s your rank?" In the end, rank becomes synonymous with a player’s status. Particularly, the highest ranks, which only a small percentage of players can achieve, are often objects of admiration.
But winning in ranked matches doesn’t exactly put money in my pocket. The recognition of fellow gamers is purely about honor. For me, real money had always been far more important than any hollow sense of honor.
Still, it wasn’t like I never played ranked games. Ever since I started gaming, I had never dropped from the highest rank—Infinity.
The reason? End-of-season rewards. The game company dangled tempting rewards as bait to encourage participation in ranked games, and I only cared about those rewards. In other words, I was a master of what was commonly called "rank parking"—just keeping my rank high enough for the rewards.
However, anyone who has played in the highest tiers knows one thing:
[Author: DefinitelyNotAGame]
[Title: Infinity’s Top Ranks Are on a Whole Other Level]
The players you see on the first page of the rankings?
They’re just on a different tier compared to those who barely scrape in.
There are only a few hundred players at the top, but even within that, the skill gap is huge.
Even now, when I get matched with them,
I feel like there’s a wall between us.
We’re playing the same character, but somehow they’re faster and stronger.
Just because you’re in the same tier doesn’t mean you’re on the same level.
The gap between the top of the rankings and the rest is bigger than you think.
In fact, the point difference between first place and the lower ranks can be greater than the difference between Diamond and Bronze, though most people don’t realize it.
Considering how few points you gain per match in the higher ranks, the actual gap is probably even bigger.
I think I’ve reached my limit. I’m proud of making it this far.
[Comments]
[Match found.]
[Do you accept the match? Y/N]
[…The battle will begin in 20 seconds.]
For most players, this tier is like the heavens. But even above the heavens, there’s another sky.
Until now, I hadn’t considered aiming higher because I thought it would be a waste of time. But now, with time to spare, why not?
‘Since I’m not going to participate in the next international tournament anyway.’
I had 50 days of allowed connection time during the temporary measures. Even if everything went perfectly, I wouldn’t be able to rejoin the pro scene for at least 50 days. By the time that period was over, the spring international tournament would be nearly finished.
Depending on the schedule, it might already be over. Either way, when the time came to submit the roster, my name couldn’t be included. So why not raise my rank in the meantime? It could mean something when I finally make my return.
If I’m going to do it, I might as well aim for the top spot once.
[Rank Match – Diamond II]
[Map: The Storm’s Resting Place]
[Mode: 6-player elimination]
The player with the username ‘IfIUseChainScytheIThrow’ was your average type. Their main class was Assassin, with Paladin as a secondary class. The moment the match started, a teammate immediately selected Assassin, prompting a sigh from them.
Already, things didn’t feel promising. Although they also played Assassin as their main class, it wasn’t particularly well-regarded in ranked games.
Its high skill ceiling was only relevant at the pro level. For the average player, it was a weak class, with low health and damage output, more of a liability than anything else. Their personal rule was to never trust another Assassin besides themselves.
But in ranked games, the one who wants to win is always the weaker party. So, despite their true feelings, they spoke much more politely than they wanted to.
“Um, Assassin player… our main classes overlap, so could you maybe switch? Two Assassins in an elimination match seems like a bad idea.”
No response came.
At that moment, they could tell right away. This person had no intention of communicating with the team. The fact that their nickname and avatar were set to private suggested they had something to hide.
Their head already started to ache. They wanted to just give up on the game entirely, but they couldn’t. Victory was more important to them than anything else.
But when the match finally started, they couldn’t help but frown deeply.
‘Chain scythe? That’s so out of date.’
There was a time when chain scythe Assassins flooded ranked matches and turned them into a nightmare. Their username, ‘IfIUseChainScytheIThrow,’ was a reflection of their frustration from that era. But they weren’t the type to actually throw games—they quietly picked up their shield.
The Assassin wielding the chain scythe was nowhere to be seen. Their avatar even seemed like it was mimicking Ga-wol. Those types were the most annoying to deal with.
Well, it’s fine. Let’s just pretend we’re down one teammate. Suppressing their irritation, they scanned the battlefield.
“We’re basically down a player, so let’s play defensively. Since we have a Hunter, set up traps…”
The team composition wasn’t suited for an aggressive strategy. It was better to set up a stronghold around the Hunter’s traps. As for the Assassin, wherever they were…
[‘Anonymous Adventurer A’ has killed ‘FerreFerreCerberus.’]
“Oh, looks like they got one after all. How did they do that with a chain scythe?”
Well, good is good, right? The Paladin’s lips curved into a slight smile, but that joy quickly turned into confusion.
[‘Anonymous Adventurer A’ has killed ‘CockPongCockPongQuickly.’]
[‘Anonymous Adventurer A’ has killed ‘CrazyMindRedDemon.’]
“?”
In a six-player elimination match, the kill log was climbing suspiciously fast. The team, which had been preparing to dig in defensively, rushed toward the enemy lines. After finishing off the last two fleeing enemies, the game ended anticlimactically.
[‘Anonymous Adventurer A’ has killed ‘WantToEatCroquettes.’]
[Victory!]
[MVP: Ga-wol (Anonymous Adventurer A)]
[Would you like to change your nickname to ‘OnlyGa-wolUsesChainScythes’? Y/N]
[Nickname changed successfully.]
The match was over, and Ga-wol’s presence was once again unmistakable