Chapter 22: Prove it.

Wild, Lee Jun, felt dizzy.

Some might say it wasn’t worth the shock—just a trivial online connection through the internet.

But that perspective showed a lack of understanding.

The time they had spent together was anything but short, and the depth of the friendship they shared was far from shallow.

Or so he thought.

He had thought so, yet…

Not even for a moment had he imagined that Legendder could be a woman.

“Why? No, maybe it wasn’t necessary for her to say. She didn’t have to reveal that she was a woman.”

He vaguely remembered hearing something.

That among female gamers, there were those who pretended to be male while playing games.

In many games, women were rare, and because of that, they often drew attention—be it positive or negative.

Some enjoyed that attention, but others avoided it so much that they disguised their gender.

He’d heard of it before.

He had heard of it but never thought it could happen.

Never imagined it would happen so close to him.

The fact that she had even used voice modification to hide it made it harder to grasp.

If it were a case of a man pretending to be a woman to get items, that might be easier to understand.

But could it be so difficult for female gamers that they had to go to such lengths?

“The world really is full of all kinds of people.”

He felt bewildered, unable to fully gather his thoughts.

Meanwhile, Jeon Jeonseol—whom he had known as Legendder—had already switched to streaming from her phone and was showing her hand.

It was truly white, small, and delicate—almost adorable.

She measured it with a ruler to display its size.

“13 cm? How small is that?”

Not many people know their own hand length by heart.

But Jun recalled a memory of using his fingers as a makeshift ruler to measure items.

“My middle finger alone is over 10 cm.”

Standing at 186 cm tall, Lee Jun was often told he had a large frame, including his hands.

Remembering that his middle finger alone exceeded 10 cm, he realized just how unusual a 13 cm hand length was.

“That’s like a child! What is she, an elementary schooler?”

It was hard to believe and fascinating at the same time, knowing someone of the same age had hands half the size of his.

“Would her height be about half of mine, too?”

No, that wouldn’t make sense, right?

Unintentionally, he began imagining what Legendder might look like in real life, but the image was impossible to picture clearly.

“Wild.”

“Huh?”

A voice calling him naturally, as though they had been close for years.

But it felt strange that this voice belonged to a woman.

“Help me with the proof stream. I need to keep my hand cam on, so you handle the game screen.”

“S-sure.”

Jun had heard the absurd rumors that Victory had been hiding that Jeon Jeonseol was a professional player.

He’d dismissed it as nonsense.

Even if Victory hadn’t been around for three years, how could someone not recognize the famous Victory’s name?

But now, finding out that Legendder was a woman…

And that he hadn’t noticed even the slightest hint of it…

After all that time they’d spent together, being completely fooled—

Not noticing that she was a professional player?

That seemed possible now.

TEAM PROUD.

Though they had never won a championship, they were strong enough to take second place at the World Championships.

As the team captain and star player, TP WILD began his stream.

…To help explain on behalf of a female friend he had assumed was male all along.

“They might scold me for starting this stream without permission.”

As a top-tier pro player, his stream schedule was managed by the team.

“I should probably ask the team if it’s okay to go live.”

But he couldn’t bring himself to say that in front of his friend.

He figured, “I’ll just take the scolding. They wouldn’t punish me over this, right?”

And so, TP WILD’s stream went live.

Naturally, the 4,000 viewers from Jeon Jeonseol’s stream migrated to his.

Thousands more started gathering as notifications of his stream went live.

<Waha! (Wild Hi)>
<What’s going on? This isn’t the usual stream time.>
<What’s the title about? ᄃᄃ>
<A “clarification stream”? Did something happen?>

“I don’t really know either.”

Lee Jun swallowed the words rising to the tip of his tongue.

The entire situation unfolding before him felt like a natural disaster—a tidal wave.

When you’re swept up in something so sudden, it’s hard to know why it started, where it’s going, or how big it might get.

“You’d be better off joining as an opponent, but then there’d be no one to show my screen. Go as an observer.”

Team Fight Arena required a three-minute delay for spectators to prevent cheating—like observers relaying enemy positions.

But Magical Fight had no such restrictions.

There was simply an observer slot for real-time spectating.

It felt like a casual game played among friends rather than a structured ranked system.

Given its reliance on other games, technical limitations likely played the biggest role in its lack of features.

“Let’s go with solo match rules. Everyone, just focus on targeting me.”

In Magical Fight, solo match rules meant every player was an enemy to everyone else.

The first to score 30 kill points would win.

“I’ll give 100,000 won for every kill on me. That’s 100,000 per kill.”

A provocative declaration to up the stakes.

“Hey, isn’t that a bit much?”

It wasn’t just a 1-vs-9 metaphor anymore.

With such conditions, it really did become a pure 1-vs-9.

No pseudo teammates making it a 1-vs-9. Just nine pure enemies suddenly cooperating against one.

“You think I’m that easy to take down?”

“!!!”

That voice.

She shouldn’t say things like that in that kind of voice.

<Is this that kind of stream?>

<Who’s that seductive voice?>
<Heueung, heueung…heueung.>

“Oh, shit.”

Whether she realized her slip or noticed the chaos in chat, Jeon Jeonseol let out a curse.

Her fingers twitched slightly in response.

The contrast was staggering—someone with hands that delicate, speaking with that voice, and cursing like that? It defied all logic.

<A foul-mouthed, pretty lady???>
<This is the best content ever! ᄏᄏᄏ>
<Why is this person managing someone else’s stream?>
<Who’s the voice chat partner???>
<What’s with those fingers? ᄏᄏ Did Wild turn into a woman?>
<As if that’s Wild! ᄏᄏᄏᄏᄏ>

“When will this tidal wave end?”

Why did it feel like Lee Jun was the one embarrassed?

The nine warriors, drawn by the promise of 100,000 won per kill—though it didn’t take much to realize they’d just become fodder for Jeon Jeonseol—had all gathered.

The game began.

The early farming phase was uneventful.

But after five minutes,

Tak-ta-da-tak-tak-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da!

The sound of furious keystrokes echoed.

<Are they playing the piano?>
<Is this game actually a rhythm game?>
<What’s with that hand speed?>
<I don’t know what’s happening, but it’s incredible.>
<Wow.>

Jeon Jeonseol had always said it:

Team Fight Arena was too easy, with clear limits on what characters could do.

Playing it felt like pulling a handcart after being used to F1 racing.

Now, returning to F1 racing after pulling a handcart, Jeon Jeonseol’s finger movements alone conveyed something extraordinary.

Inside the car, the racer might be doing many things, but all the audience sees outside is a fast-moving vehicle.

“That’s definitely our Legendary.”

She’s pressing over three keyboard buttons per second, sustaining that pace for over ten seconds of continuous combat.

Meanwhile, her other hand is seamlessly moving the mouse.

Anyone would think her fingers or brain would get tangled, but she executes it flawlessly without a single hitch.

How do we know?

When a 7-vs-1 fight breaks out, and she cuts down all seven opponents before casually walking away.

Wild was sharing her screen as an observer, essentially giving every participant—except Jeon Jeonseol—a map hack.

And yet, they couldn’t stop her.

<If a 7-vs-1 is winnable, isn’t this a trash game?>

That’s subjective, really.

For a physical and mental monster like Jeon Jeonseol, who thrives on hero play, this game was nothing short of a gem.

“Euhuhng.”

Her voice brimmed with satisfaction.

Legendary wasn’t one to favor slaughtering newbies in games.

But this time, things were different.

Over 7,000 people were watching.

They wanted to see her prove herself.

<Her laugh is so cute!>
<I’m smitten!>
<But seriously, who is she!!!!>
<Situation summary: A streamer duoing with Wild got hit with a 90-day suspension for account sharing. She revealed her voice changer, saying “Tada! It was a rickroll—actually, I’m a woman.” She’s now proving she played herself with a hand-cam while gaming.>
<Wow, thanks for the explanation.>
<But why not Team Fight Arena and this weird game?>

<Ah, I see.>
<Stop making things up; who would believe that?>
<And yet, it actually happened…>

The game ended much faster than expected.

With all nine players targeting her, how long could it have lasted?

30 kills, 0 deaths.

Proof complete.

Regrettably, there were no heroes to claim the 100,000 won bounty.

“Once again, I’d like to reintroduce myself. I am Jeon Jeonseol. I apologize for the confusion caused by using a voice changer.”

[Infinity Korea has donated 100,000 won.]

“Wild, the suspension on Jeon Jeonseol’s account has been lifted. Please let her know. We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience caused. A formal apology statement will be posted today.”

Whether the message was legitimate or a hoax didn’t matter.

Logging into the game client would confirm it immediately.

Still, the fact they donated 100,000 won convinced Wild it was likely the game developer.

And then one thought crossed his mind.

“You haven’t even enabled donations yet? What a strange one.”

Jeon Jeonseol hadn’t opened her donations despite streaming.

A true amateur at both streaming and gaming, despite her extraordinary skill.

“But this is real, huh?”

The friend he’d always thought was a guy—a friend whose skill he respected—was actually a woman.

A true girl, with pale, delicate, and dainty hands.

And now, it was proven.

“What kind of whirlwind have I gotten myself caught in?”

Lee Jun still felt dazed as he tried to process everything.