Chapter 36: The Link Between a Talking Chest and Effortless Victory

The brain is said to use a significant portion of its capacity to process visual information received through the eyes.

Vision is the most dominant sense among our five senses.

The idea that what we see has a powerful and effective impact has been proven over countless years.

Isn’t that why the phrase “seeing is believing” exists?

And we have collectively decided to call the creatures weak to visual stimuli “men.”

In a space like mine, predominantly filled with men who are vulnerable to visual stimuli compared to women, it was almost inevitable that they would focus more on my webcam than the game.

After all, there was an unusual visual element on my webcam.

[The chat responses begin flooding in.]

[“This is breathtaking. Is this really the same nerdy Molu?”]

[“Truly grand.”]

[“Like the Grand Canyon;”]

[“Now we know why the host has such a good personality.”]

[“Their heart must be as big as their… well, you know.”]

[“Is this even a human physique?”]

[“Their arms and wrists are so thin, but why are their shoulders and chest so broad? It’s unreal.”]

[“I can’t see clearly, but their waist seems tiny too.”]

[“Do you guys know this is sexual harassment?”]

[“True, but how can we not say anything about this masterpiece?”]

[“Just stick to typing ‘LOL’ if you’re speechless.”]

[“20==”]

[“Instead of sexual harassment, why not call it… visual admiration?”]

[“Should we try to phrase it more delicately?”]

[“LOL, all of you are about to get banned.”]

At that point, Siyoung, my manager and editor, started cutting through the chat like a sword dancer.

The bans came so quickly that you could visibly see the chat being purged in real-time.

Still, a few comments managed to catch my eye, most of them revolving around my upper body as shown on the webcam.

There was no helping it.

Even with bans happening in real time, the sheer volume of comments was overwhelming.

10,000.

That was the number of viewers watching my stream right now.

Where had all these people come from?

It seemed the tournament had drawn quite a bit of attention.

“How about we focus on the tournament instead of my chest, everyone? The pick-ban phase just started.”

[More chat responses flood in.]

[“A talking chest? Is this for real?”]

[“It’s amazing how someone can look so attractive even with only their shoulders and chest visible…”]

[“This is hard to endure.”]

Even with the 5-minute delay imposed by the tournament rules, the reactions were this intense.

Even without real-time interaction, the sheer mania in the chat was palpable.

I couldn’t understand what was so appealing about this heavy mass of flesh… though, admittedly, I wasn’t innocent either.

Memories of a past where my gaze unconsciously drifted lingered in my mind.

As a former man, I couldn’t entirely fault them, so I decided to let it slide.

I figured showing myself focusing on the game might shift their attention.

If I could present more dazzling gameplay moments than what they saw on the webcam, that should suffice.

I ignored the sharp buzz of Jiyeon’s call, which I knew was coming in real-time.

Hey, Jiyeon, can’t you see your sister is busy working?

The sniper and bard were banned.

The sniper was my main pick, and the bard was a key support champion well-handled by both Ryuah and Papijoa on my team.

It might seem like a critical ban, but—

“Just as expected.”

Papijoa’s calm voice echoed.

As he said, it was within our predictions.

Their moves were entirely foreseeable.

“Let’s stick to the plan.”

On our side, we banned the swordsman and the mech soldier.

Although their swordsman was no match for mine, Suah’s swordsman and their tank DeadSong’s main pick, the mech soldier, posed threats to our team.

Tex, assigned to handle the bans, seemed to get more nervous when I spoke to reassure him.

When I opened my mouth, he jumped slightly, clearly startled.

“Y-yes? Ahem, yes.”

His voice cracked, and he coughed to cover it up.

It seemed he had caught a glimpse of my webcam on the official broadcast.

Perhaps the contrast between my actual appearance and what he had imagined left him feeling unsettled.

As long as it didn’t interfere with his gameplay, it didn’t matter.

Fortunately, Tex quickly regained his composure.

The intense training I had put him through seemed to be paying off.

I couldn’t tell if the other team members were nervous or calm, but at least they weren’t voicing their thoughts.

Maybe they were frozen under the gaze of tens of thousands of viewers, but I doubted that.

After countless drills mimicking real matches, it becomes hard to distinguish practice from the real thing.

With the match taking place online, there was no sense of a live audience either.

Once the bans and picks were finalized, the loading screen appeared, signaling the start of the game.

During the brief wait before the match began, Chulwoo spoke in his steady voice.

“Alright, let’s shout ‘fighting’ before we start.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

“Fighting!”

Feeling good—let’s do this.

The twin swords of the “Dancer” glinted as they caught the sharp rays of sunlight.

For ages, twin swords have been a symbol of style and grace, admired but also feared as harbingers of defeat.

They are the epitome of a double-edged sword.

After all, wasn’t there a character who met their end wielding split swords instead of a perfectly good greatsword?

Thinking that two weapons automatically make one stronger is too simplistic.

Wielding two swords, each moving differently, requires immense concentration.

Especially on a battlefield where projectiles rain down from all directions.

Clang—

The sound of colliding blades rang out sharply.

I had just deflected an enemy mage’s fireball with the blade’s surface.

The vibration traveled from the blade through the hilt and into my hand.

A fleeting moment.

A fraction of a second, split into countless fragments.

The shards of time, perceptible only to geniuses, allow miracles to occur within Eowar’s system.

And one of those miracles had just unfolded.

The “Dancer” lightly flicked her blade, shaking off the residual force that clung to her hands.

“The fireball’s been used. Two opponents are up front, and the mage will need time to recast. Chulwoo, you initiate with your charge skill, and Tex and I will follow. Ryuah, keep Chulwoo alive as long as possible, and Papi, crowd control their damage dealers while marking them.”

Moving before another second could pass, I surged forward.

The opponents were already drawn to the aggro generated by the Dancer’s movements.

Molu, having spun on the spot to deflect the fireball with ridiculous finesse, quickly issued commands.

The team responded with no hesitation.

There was no need to.

Like a well-drilled army, the barbarian charged forward without a moment’s pause.

The enemy’s formation collapsed in an instant.

The Dancer’s blade flashed brilliantly once more.

In an instant, the enemies’ health bars were drained, and Tex hurriedly moved in to finish them off.

“That’s it. Pull back now. Don’t get drawn in too deep. Papi, use detection to check if anyone is flanking us.”

“Got it.”

The team members mechanically returned to their positions.

With the support units providing care, the team quickly reformed their formation.

It was a calculated and methodical operation, dealing significant damage before reorganizing.

This strategy slowly chipped away at the opponents, gradually wresting control away from them—almost cruelly.

Eventually, the pressure of time and the score would force the opposing team to make the first desperate move.

This was Molu’s timing rush strategy.

A bold and daring tactic that relied on her uncanny ability to perfectly read the timing for both engaging and retreating.

Her voice was steady, even, and never raised.

She never panicked, as if everything was already accounted for, her orders unwavering.

During the brief lull created by the repositioning, Tex glanced at the chat window before quickly snapping back to focus.

[Let’s go.]

[Look at Molu’s… um, solid… build.]

[Did you see Tex’s eyes during the interview earlier?]

The chat, delayed by five minutes, was filled with random and unrelated commentary, nothing to do with the match.

Being a major tournament, there were too many new viewers, making chat moderation impossible.

Tex, who silently vowed to review and ban those chats later, couldn’t help but wonder.

Did those people even imagine, just five minutes into the match, that the game would tilt so heavily in one direction?

And that the supposedly weaker Jackie team would be dominating like this?

Even if someone had predicted it beforehand, no one would have believed it.

Not even Tex had expected things to go so smoothly.

He had simply followed Molu’s instructions without overthinking them, and somehow, the game had swung in their favor.

She hadn’t assigned him an overwhelming role either.

All he had done was stick to his usual playstyle, refined through endless practice for this tournament.

By following his habitual routine, victory had already begun to take shape.

This one-sided match was all because of her.

Tex moved his mouse to look at the Dancer standing nearby.

Molu was effortlessly controlling a notoriously difficult character.

‘I always thought she was special, but this is just overwhelming.’

“Enemies are coming back. We’ve secured favorable terrain, so as long as we stay focused, we won’t lose it.”

Stay focused—such an easy condition for victory.

Tex chuckled to himself and gripped his mouse tighter.

On the screen, his scout soldier raised his weapon, ready to engage.

The enemies continued to fall back repeatedly, pushed by the relentless assault of Tex’s team, regrouping each time only to be pushed again.

Watching the scene unfold exactly as Molu ordered, Tex thought to himself:

At this rate, when the audience says I got carried, I won’t even have an argument.

But that didn’t matter.

If this sweet victory was the reward, so be it.

With one minute left until the round ended, Tex found himself looking at the slim figure of the Dancer ahead of him.

For some reason, her shoulders felt reassuringly strong.

Smiling slightly, Tex moved his hands quickly, ready to finish the match.