NoveLight ™
“The Final Championship, held over five days, has gathered everyone here to celebrate the fourth day together. Considering that the eight maps have already gone through one complete rotation as of yesterday, starting today, new battles will unfold on familiar battlegrounds!”
Wednesday faded away, and Thursday approached.
To the average person, it seemed that half of the entire Final Championship matches had passed, and aside from the fact that it was the last day before the final, it would pass without anything particularly special. However, for the players, the meaning was different.
On Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, the eight maps were split into 2, 3, and 3 matches respectively, so all players would have played at least one map once. As Thursday and Friday approached, they would revisit maps they had experienced at least once during those days.
In other words, this meant that players good enough to stand on this stage had come out with all their experiences, trial and error, and the debriefings of thoughts like “If I had played like this at this point, it would have been better,” firmly embedded in their heads and bodies.
Countless analyses about competitors and their aspirations for higher places had been conducted over the past three days. It was even common to see coaches who hadn’t slept a wink during those three days, analyzing so much that they needed IV drips.
All the efforts of those players and coaches combined to create a chaotic whirlwind that was both new and completely unpredictable.
“Will the rankings be turned upside down again like last year?”
“Who knows? I’m not sure…”
There were countless people sharing the same curiosity, differing only in language. This was especially true last year—Dice, who participated in the Final Championship for the first time, ended up finishing over 50th despite a disastrous performance.
All players’ metas and tactics, built up over the past year and thought to be effective in the main event, clashed and broke apart, healing and restructuring into different forms. Thus, a change in rankings began that was more severe than just a mere reshuffling.
However, this year, that statement only held true half the time.
Thud thud thud!
“Ugh!”
“What on earth are they doing?”
Not only Yujin and Dice, but the entire Korean team tilted their heads in confusion the moment the first skirmish began.
Initially, it seemed that Yujin’s special training had made them too strong, causing potential unpredictable incidents due to the change in meta, but as time passed, that thought diminished—an overwhelming skill activation zone compared to Wednesday served as the first evidence.
But that wasn’t all. The strange actions of the enemies the Korean representatives faced served as the second piece of evidence—everyone seemed to have researched thoroughly and brought all kinds of bizarre skill applications, yet they were all swept away by the bulldozer-like Korean team.
Naturally, they immediately figured out why things were unfolding in this manner after just a few skirmishes.
“What are they doing without knowing the strengths and weaknesses of their skills or the opportunity costs?”
Of course, those who made it to the Final Championship weren’t fools. They just made a mistake they shouldn’t have made during the match.
When trying to push their skills aggressively, they had neglected their own country’s play style that had developed over a year, and their personal direction, which naturally led to issues. In short, they had opened up a functioning machine and replaced its parts with ones that didn’t even fit.
Thus, the discrepancy between the ideals and reality of the foreign players was as follows.
Drrrr!
“What…? Why is it not hurting that much?”
First, they overlooked the characteristics of their skills.
Skills were not only meant to create new ways of engagement but were also developed to supplement lacking firepower or fill in gaps of firepower—not intended to be operated as the main feature.
The number of guns allowed was restricted to one the moment two skills were unlocked, and that was limited to either a carbine or SMG. Of course, if used well, one could become a blender sweeping the battlefield like a certain snake-tailed individual, but most were not capable of that.
The players who were unfamiliar with the skills discarded the firepower of the firearms, the easiest way to overpower their opponents. In other words, even if the carbine was acceptable, those who chose SMGs were getting battered by the Korean team when the distance widened and were being ejected to the lobby.
And—
Boom!
“What was that? Why did it suddenly explode over there…?”
Secondly, there was a lack of skill operation.
Now, the skill play of a certain individual, which was painfully obvious, captivated not just the viewers but also the players and coaches—this meant they were all seized by the thought of wanting to test the traps that Yujin had personally created.
Naturally, that action was not inherently bad. One of the best ways to grow in any field is imitation and practice.
However, the users didn’t properly understand the principles and didn’t fully master the skills, yet they brought those bizarrely crafted traps into the actual matches. Unsurprisingly, they either fell apart or exploded before even functioning, benefiting the Korean players rather than harming them.
And in most cases,
Such traps could be identified simply with a pulse.
The Korean team had already known how wide-ranging and precise pulse detection was, so they often used traps that only activated with specific stimuli or traps that couldn’t be countered even if identified—and the reason for specifically citing the Korean team was simple.
Other countries were unaware of this.
There were even cases where they had their operational authority over installed traps taken away, leading to their own positions being revealed and getting beaten, and such farcical incidents continued until the end of the second match on Thursday.
“Ah, what is this! The Thursday Korean team is literally defying expectations that they might undergo a turning point, and they’re literally soaring! Perhaps the Korean flag will be raised for this year’s best country!”
As stated.
Logan, belonging to Orbital Gaming, along with some of the gamers from that team, and the top 15% of users who realized that changing their play style at this point would be meaningless had already started solidifying their ranks through defensive strategies.
Among the players, at least 1/3 who did not belong to the aforementioned groups, tested out new play styles and completely tanked their scores and gameplay, turning them into point machines for the Korean team and the aforementioned top 15%.
The common thread woven into the winners’ plays was splendor and a rapid advance. But victories always require losers, and the latter sank along with their nearly farcical plays.
No matter how shocking the events were, it was a painful lesson that one should never change their play style hastily, and Thursday darkened completely.
“This is the earliest day to end in the history of the Final Championship. They’ve been making a fuss with all sorts of articles predicting that Wednesday would be a historic turning point, and while that wasn’t entirely wrong…”
“It is historic, isn’t it?”
“…It’s beyond what I imagined.”
In New York’s standard time, it was 9:24 PM.
The clock pointed to the time when all three matches had ended. And until now, including this one, there had never been a case where the match end time exceeded 9:40 PM in the finals.
But today was different.
A single Final Championship match originally took a minimum of 30 to 40 minutes. Given the viewership numbers, this time was calculated based on the time acceleration that hadn’t been applied.
Considering that the break time between each match was 30 minutes, the daily schedule of the Final Championship was structured like a sandwich with two breaks squeezed in between the three matches.
Thus, the time taken for the day’s matches was at least 150 minutes minimum. Normally, the day would end somewhere between 9:40 and 9:50 PM.
So, what does this mean—
“Just how terrible must they have played for every match to barely last 30 minutes…”
“Judging by how you’re saying that the moment we return to the hotel, it seems like you have a lot of complaints.”
“I’ve only had less than 20 hours of special training with Yujin, and as soon as we started, everyone was just acting like fools, so it’s frustrating.”
Of course, Dice’s harsh words were tempered by Yujin’s playful tail tickling and tactical teasing.
Due to being tickled so much, Seo Ye-rin, with a rather ambiguous expression that blurred whether she was laughing or crying, was finally sprawled out on the bed, staring at the ceiling before adding.
“The Final Championship is over now. I wondered if I’d ever make it into the top 5 of the finals before retiring, and look at how it turned out.”
“We have to maintain it steadily. Even if you no longer participate in the Final Championship, I’ll continue to have you in personal scrims.”
“That’s reassuring to hear…”
Rustle.
A moment of silence. There seemed to be a fluttering of words yet to be spoken, but in the end, she remained silent. Yujin, thinking that she would eventually hear the answer, wasn’t too concerned and went to the entrance to appropriately put on her shoes.
Noticing that the light in the entrance was on, Dice spoke up.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to pick up Harmony, so I’ll be back in about an hour. You all can go ahead and sleep. Let’s skip the debriefing for today…”
Yujin stopped mid-sentence.
Despite that, it felt a bit off to skip that part, so Yujin thought for a moment before adding.
“...Not entirely skip, but just review the second half of the battles a bit, jot down notes on what I should have avoided. Since tomorrow is the final match, if we just manage our condition well, there shouldn’t be any major issues.”
“Alright…”
“You’ve worked hard.”
Clang.
The door closed.
Passing through the now cozy and comfortable hallway, which felt just like home, she crossed the busy lobby filled with guests still enjoying the night view and pressed the elevator button, heading to the underground parking lot.
As the door opened, the unique smell of concrete and the bleak interior of the parking lot were revealed. The moment she opened the glass door, a Range Rover approached naturally and automatically opened its doors, revealing familiar faces inside.
The vividly visible red eyes, even in the dimly lit vehicle.
Lorentina patted the back seat with her hand and added.
“Shall we take our youngest for a Manhattan drive at night?”
“Sounds good.”
Naturally climbing into the back seat, Yujin tucked her tail into the tail storage space and pressed her back against the seat.
Without any noise, the vehicle exited the parking lot and slowly entered the FDR Drive highway, which followed the East and Hudson Rivers. Yujin checked the faces of the people in the vehicle.
The first to speak was Logan, who leaned against the driver’s seat.
“Were you suddenly craving the New York winter air?”
“There are things you can only talk about in the winter wind.”
And as that was actually true, this gathering was a request made by Yujin.
Although it was rather grand for people who were already on friendly terms, there was a valid reason for it. Until now, Yujin and Logan had been players in the Final Championship, and unless they talked in a designated place, there was a high likelihood they would not be looked upon favorably.
To put it bluntly, the problem was the potential for match-fixing or the exposure of individual tactics during conversations. Even if there was no actual risk, human fussiness is usually like that.
Last time they met legally at Madison Square Garden, but now it was different—and that was the method they had chosen.
A brief silence.
While others were guessing the meaning behind Yujin's words, she contemplated what to say first in her mind.
The identities of Dark Zone and Icarus International. Whether they would truly believe in these or not was a matter for her to deal with.
So where should she begin? After pondering that, Yujin took a deep breath.
“When I went to the Icarus headquarters, I learned about the identities of Dark Zone and Icarus International.”
And at that moment, everyone’s expressions hardened.
But it was an expected reaction. Yujin had already displayed a similar response. And as the stories unrelated to individuals began to unravel one by one, everyone’s expressions changed dynamically.
That was understandable. The reason Dark Zone accurately depicted events that happened in the past of another world was—because they took that incident as a whole as their motif, which was quite difficult to accept.
However, it wasn’t just about using it as a motif. Dark Zone was actually connected to the previous world in a non-physical form.
After that, the main topic arrived.
As the vehicle glided silently across the FDR Drive, Yujin added.
“The past operations, including Operation North Sphere, existed in the game because of that. As I keep clearing the Incursion scenarios, I reach the last operation I carried out, and from there…”
“And from there?”
“…The clearing of Dark Zone’s Incursion scenarios affects that world.”
What this implied was simple. And those present at the table could not be unaware of what it meant or why Yujin was bringing up this topic.
She was discussing the time after the Final Championship.
Of course, that alone did not explain why Yujin was sharing this fact.
“So, what’s the reason for telling us all this?”
Lorentina, usually playful, now looked serious, locking eyes with Yujin.
In response, Yujin added quietly.
“I wanted to show you what happened at the Indian Point Nuclear Power Plant, the situation I faced, and what went on there.”
Everyone fell silent again.
The day that left an indelible mark on the members of the team, other than Yujin. The day when the team, which had successfully led countless operations over four years, broke for the first time. A day of unforgettable loss…
However, apart from that, Yujin’s meaning was clear. She was asking the members of the team present to join her on the mission.
Two additional units—one was a reserve, but—one was from DEVGRU. Logically, for those busy with training and individual coaching, Yujin’s request would have been unreasonable.
However, what she proposed was…
“……Alright.”
“Lorentina.”
“Anytime. No matter what. Just let me know when it’s scheduled. I’ll make sure to clear my schedule, even if I have to grab my commander by the collar.”
The first to react was none other than Lorentina.
The usual mischievous smile was nowhere to be found. Her red eyes darted around, scanning her surroundings before meeting the gazes of Logan and Owens.
But none of them rejected Yujin’s request. The death of the youngest was the deepest stake driven into their hearts, a taboo no one should touch.
Even the title of the youngest, which they usually called her by, was absent as Christopher continued.
“It’s a request we could easily accept even without bringing up things like that, Yujin. You, of all people…”
And in the meantime, Logan, who had been observing quietly, chimed in.
“We still have a decent amount of time until we’re officially part of Delta, so just call when you need us.”
“The seniors… sadly don’t have Dark Zone accounts.”
“The results will be confirmed during the debriefing. Make sure to tie everything up neatly.”
Everyone laughed.
And that was precisely the stance that suited Anthony Owens more than anything else.
With all issues resolved without friction, Logan manipulated the screen and changed the destination to Madison Square Garden.
“Then let’s go pick up Yujin’s beloved green cat.”
The vehicle that had been wandering along the outskirts of Manhattan began to re-enter the city.
The end of the year was approaching.