“And now, introducing GetDevoured! Wow, the fans’ cheers are extraordinary. It seems the idea that amateur elites have their limits doesn’t apply here, as GetDevoured has reached the semifinals purely through raw power! At this point, I wouldn’t mind seeing her become the representative for Korea.”
“Ah, commentator Bae, are you perhaps a fan yourself? Could it be that you’re a member of the fan club?”
“Well, I’m a fan of all KoK players and broadcasters. But there’s no denying that GetDevoured is causing a significant stir. Originally known as a Rogue-only user and an elite amateur Rogue player, she’s shown remarkable versatility in this tournament. Can we take a look at the statistics?”
“Yes, they are displayed now. What stands out is her 100% victory rate in official matches! Although it might be because she has had fewer official matches, achieving such a clean victory rate with five different characters is impressive.”
“If you look here- her Rogue pick rate is 40%, and the Holy Knight is 30%, making a strong one-two punch. But if you try to counter these, she unpredictably brings out an Archer or a Mage- and she excels in those too! While it may not be an official match, the video where she brought our CEO and beat him up as a Priest is also quite well known, isn’t it?”
“That expression, ‘beat him up’, is a bit…”
In the waiting room for the players, after finishing his semifinal match, Pagol was sprawled on the sofa, almost lying down, staring at his phone.
It was a live broadcast. There were a whopping 230,000 viewers. A moment ago, this many people had watched his performance. Thinking about that made the corners of his mouth twitch into a grin.
‘I wonder who I’ll face in the finals. I’d prefer to meet North American or European players a bit later. Meeting someone like Jansen early on would be annoying.’
Though the finals were still ahead, the remaining opponents were either former underground coaches or amateur broadcasters. Naturally, Pagol was already looking ahead to the tournaments he’d participate in as the Korean representative.
How lucky were the matchups for an amateur, especially a broadcaster, to get this far?
It was somewhat frustrating for him.
Streamers often had loud fans attached to them like appendages. They’d claim that someone was at a pro level, or honestly, if they played seriously off-broadcast, they’d be better than any pro…
Most of these baseless statements came from solo rank data. To Pagol, it was the most meaningless metric.
What annoyed him the most was the attitude of the broadcasters who subtly allowed such responses. They had no intention nor credentials to step into the real proving grounds, yet they didn’t even make an effort to control their belligerent fans.
The second thing that annoyed him were the incompetent pros who gave these broadcasters an excuse.
“Look at this tournament, for instance.” he thought.
It was nice to see broadcasters who dared to talk about being at a pro level drop like flies, showing the harsh reality.
However, amidst it all, some pros, perhaps having abandoned their pride with thoughts of debuting as broadcasters, had started to flatter broadcasters and ingratiate themselves…
As professionals—those who fought for the fans who laughed and cried over their victories and losses—they seemed to lack even the slightest awareness.
‘Still better than those who lost.’
The biggest issue in this tournament was the clowns who had climbed unnecessarily high. Paragol had sent one of them down himself, but—
‘GetDevoured.’
Paragol stared intently at his phone, observing the hooded rogue.
‘Started her broadcast by showing off her chest to grab attention…’
While he recalled unspoken derogatory remarks, he couldn’t ignore her as an opponent. He had watched her gameplay videos several times, of course. And—
‘For a woman, certainly.’
At first, there were rumors about cheats. Her skills justified the controversy.
Her quick reflexes, precise movements, and bold, unconventional strategies—one had to grudgingly admit—were enough to make one think she could skip the trainee period and immediately perform at a second-string level.
‘And, leaving aside everything else… in a one-on-one—’
“Finally, the clash! The moment everyone’s been waiting for!”
The enthusiastic commentator’s voice cut through Paragol’s thoughts. The upcoming match was crucial. He had to confirm his opponent’s performance.
On the screen, two rogues were slowly moving sideways, gauging the distance between them.
Even if he was retired, and even though his physical prowess had been publicly criticized throughout his career—this was a player who had reached the pinnacle of the world not long ago. A mere broadcaster, mildly famous in solo queue, should have been easy prey.
However, Orthodox’s movements were exceedingly cautious—his careful steps reflected an underlying wariness and a corresponding respect for the opponent.
Although this irked him, Paragol understood the reasons behind Orthodox’s behavior. He furrowed his brow and tried to focus on the match.
– Whoosh!
A dagger, leaving a trail of white, sliced through the air.
It was GetDevoured who made the first move. The attack was aimed at a position where it could barely be avoided. Prayers were all that could be relied upon now, hoping the opponent would miscalculate the distance or fail to react in time.
Was it a lack of patience? Or perhaps, a light test in anticipation of the multi-round match? Thoughts leaned towards the former for Pagol. After all, despite being a multi-round match, it was only a best of three. The importance of the first set could not be overstated.
The aftermath of the missed attack enveloped GetDevoured’s body. The center of gravity wobbled, exposing a momentary gap – but not enough to be taken advantage of.
Lowering her stance quickly, GetDevoured regained stability before the opponent could seize the opportunity. It was an uncanny display of physical balance.
Despite the lost point, it was not a significant one. In one sense, she had seized the initiative at the cost of some stamina.
So then – should she risk continuing the offensive a little longer?
Or should she acknowledge the failure and take a step back?
An intense battle of wits ensued –
Just as GetDevoured’s shoulder twitched, Orthodox’s left hand flashed. A predictive counter. In Orthodox’s mind, GetDevoured was someone who never let go once she had the offensive grip. This had been the case numerous times.
– Crack!
But had she intended to attack at all? Having prepared this movement for who knows how long, GetDevoured was already twisting her body sideways. The surprise thrust merely grazed her leather armor –
Seizing the moment, GetDevoured lunged deeply into her opponent’s space, as if crushing the ground beneath her feet.
It was too late to withdraw the extended hand.
A look of dismay flashed across Orthodox’s face as he took a big step back. The options were limited. Use the right hand for a restraining attack while retreating. Use a survival skill to ensure safety. Or, sacrifice a significant amount of stamina and roll away to dodge.
Pagol deemed the second option to be correct. A feeble restraining move was too obvious, and sacrificing stamina at this juncture would make a comeback nearly impossible. By creating distance and resetting the fight, eventually, the amateur would reveal weaknesses.
– Shh
The new form of the rogue, with a red band around his arm, began to disappear. Orthodox’s judgment aligned with that of Pagol. However, the smile of satisfaction on Pagol’s face didn’t last even a second.
Because the rogue adorned with a blue ribbon also cast a survival skill at the same time.
“Oh- chaser! Chasing! What is this! They predicted the direction, distance, position perfectly! GetDevoured wins the psychological battle flawlessly!”
Against the commentator’s exclamation, both rogues disappeared and reappeared simultaneously. Neither seemed to have used any survival skills. At the same distance, in the same posture. In a gap almost palpable with each other’s breath, their gazes met-
Two pairs of daggers flashed. But one pair of daggers was swung by the one who intended it, and the other pair flailed by the one hoping to escape.
Only one pair drew blood.
* * * *
“““GetDevoured! GetDevoured!”””
At the eSports Center, the medium-sized venue hosting a regular league match was unusually packed with people.
Even though it was merely the stage for the finals of a somewhat official regional preliminaries and it was hard to gauge the level of interest for this new tournament-
They hadn’t anticipated that even after the seats filled, they would have to stop people from standing in the corridors and stairs trying to watch.
“““GetDevoured! GetDevoured! GetDevoured!”””
The chants filled the space, almost resonating through the building. The heat seemed at least 2-3 degrees higher than usual, probably not just a figment of imagination.
“GetDevoured takes the first set against Orthodox! The dark horse of this tournament swallowed the world champion rogue!”
“The first set ended in just 1 minute and 34 seconds. This match was never supposed to end like this! Orthodox got too caught up in the psychological battle and was completely overpowered!”
“Oh, here comes the replay. If you look here, Orthodox uses Shadow Step diagonally, but before his motion completes, GetDevoured also casts Shadow Step. She read Orthodox’s casting position perfectly and went right in front of him! It’s as if they went into his mind and came back out!”
Amidst the pouring cheers and commentator applauses. Though still inaudible, the atmosphere of the audience visible beyond the panel was enough to shake the heart of an inexperienced player. The sheer enthusiasm of countless people holds a power to unsettle anyone.
However, inside the game booth, Lee Yena, with a rather serious expression, merely stretched and prepared for the next match.
The super play from a moment ago was nothing, and she seemed to imply that there was still a long way to go.