The world only remembers first place.
No one established this as a rule—it just naturally happens.
Why is that? First and second place are both unique achievements.
Remembering second place along with first doesn’t seem too demanding.
Yet, in the end, it’s a matter of significance.
First place matters. Second place doesn’t.
Second place is simply the one who lost to the champion—a blemished version of perfection.
And no one’s mind is idle enough to bother remembering such a figure.
Moss, seemingly impressed by my impeccable reasoning, flicked their lighter repeatedly, likely to gather their thoughts. Then they spoke.
“I was the one who won that deduction match, wasn’t I?”
“It was an unfair match. After all, a game developer was in the mix.”
As expected of Moss, they hit the nail on the head.
Moss sighed weakly. “Aren’t you all supposed to be streaming right now?”
Their words were perfectly timed with a donation notification.
<user donated 1,000 won. Thank you!>
It wasn’t surveillance—it was more like spectating.
Either way, I continued observing Moss’s gameplay.
The role of the Scout is quite entertaining.
At times, they suppress the growth of the carry duo, the urban core, or even the solo laner on the outskirts—though that’s a rare strategy.
Sometimes, they counter enemy scouts entirely.
The ultimate anti-carry. That’s the Scout.
Scouts typically move alone, acting as a special operative allowed to act independently.
As such, they are stealthy and exceptionally strong in the early game.
Swish— Moss’s character, Ishikawa Yuzuru, used the shadows to approach the enemy’s main carry.
Thin steel wires glided through the air, catching the enemy off guard.
The enemy carry and their support used their abilities in a panic, but Moss displayed intricate three-dimensional movement, stepping across wires anchored to walls.
Slice! The blade at the end of a steel wire pierced the enemy carry.
Then, crackle! A powerful electric surge traveled down the wire, immobilizing the shocked carry.
Moss closed in, gripping their blade in reverse, and delivered a clean slash.
It was the textbook definition of a perfect Scout play.
But…
“……”
Moss ignored the chatter and kept playing.
Taking down the enemy’s main carry once doesn’t mean the game is over.
The main carry’s role is designed to thrive despite constant interference, which is why their growth potential is unparalleled.
If you play too loosely, thinking they’ve been shut down, the enemy carry might unexpectedly power up and dominate the battlefield.
Moss continued relentlessly disrupting the enemy carry’s farming and confined the opposing team’s guardian movements to their side.
This made it much easier for both the allied carry and the urban core to operate freely.
After a while, during a pivotal Tier 3 objective fight, Moss made a significant impact, turning the game in their team’s favor.
As the screen flashed “[Victory],” they let out a small sigh of relief.
“Finally, Diamond IV.”
“I can’t say I’m satisfied with Diamond IV, but for now, I am.”
What kind of nonsense is that?
As I tilted my head, confused by Moss’s contradictory statement, they continued.
“Now I can shut up all those Diamond V players.”
“That’s right. Diamond V is the beasts’ tier, while Diamond IV is the tier anyone can reach as long as they’re playing. Isn’t that true, Han Yurim?”
When I didn’t respond, the chat burst into laughter.
Apparently, a quick search revealed: Han Yurim (Diamond V) << Really?
Since when could Diamond V players give advice?
Even Bunnyrun and PaePae seemed stunned.
This was so unfair. I wasn’t just an ordinary Diamond V.
“Low match count << Classic excuse from a noob stuck in low ranks, lol.”
“Your current tier is all that matters, deal with it.”
Being dismissed as a “low-rank scrub” was the greatest humiliation I’d ever experienced. I felt tears welling up.
“What’s she been doing instead of gaming? Didn’t she claim to be streaming full-time lately?”
It was all Bunnyrun’s fault.
Bunnyrun kept distracting me, making me want to watch her streams instead of focusing on the game.
And as a former cam streamer, Bunnyrun didn’t even need to worry about game content—her outdoor streams always turned into group barbecue parties anyway.
That left me with barely any time to play.
Still, a loser doesn’t make excuses.
Quietly, I closed Moss’s stream and started looking up Bunnyrun’s and PaePae’s tiers.
Diamond I and Challenger?
When did PaePae play this much?
This won’t do.
I put on my VR headset and started my stream.
First, I changed the stream title:
[Looking for Backseat Coaching Free Passes]
“What nonsense is she planning now?”
Skipping the usual BGM, I jumped straight into the main content for the day.
Click. I pressed the start button, and the matchmaking began.
“???”
“?”
“What’s with starting a game without even saying anything?”
“I’m going to claim it now.”
“Claim what?”
“What else? The throne that ties everything together. Challenger Rank 1, of course.”
“Oh no, she’s boarding the Challenger Rank 1 train again.”
“She’s not stopping until one of us collapses, huh?”
“That’s right. Either I fall, or one of you does. The train doesn’t stop otherwise.”
“It’s going to be us dying, isn’t it? Damn it, take it easy for once!”
I couldn’t.
How could anyone sleep after enduring such humiliation?
The game was found.
In the ban-pick phase, I, as always, banned nothing and picked Thierry.
At some point, players had stopped banning Thierry.
It seemed they’d rather face Thierry than deal with whatever alternative I might pick.
Likely because whenever Thierry was banned, I’d opt for “Ormal,” and I’d been just as formidable with that character.
But for me, it didn’t matter.
I liked both Thierry and Ormal equally.
To be honest, Ormal was better in terms of current performance.
After the recent buffs to early-game characters, Ormal had become nearly unstoppable.
No one was using Ormal yet, but once someone did and word spread, it was only a matter of time before the character appeared in pro matches.
The game began.
Our team’s Guardian was Chun Hye-eun, a notorious character for being a liability. Anyone choosing that must be entirely self-centered.
I could vouch for this as someone who only ever made selfless picks.
Han Yurim’s ZeroCola (Guardian): “I’m a fan!”
I didn’t need them to say it. Their username made it obvious.
“ZeroCola, don’t join fights. Focus entirely on farming and optimizing your growth as fast as possible.”
With Chun Hye-eun, contributing to team fights was impossible anyway.
If they focused on optimizing growth and stayed hidden, they’d reach full base upgrades by the 25-minute mark.
All we needed to do was hold out until then.
Meanwhile, I tore through the enemy urban core player, Han Chanhyuk.
Han Chanhyuk was using the same summoner character Bbangbbang had used to target me before.
But comparing the two was laughable—the enemy core didn’t even come close to Bbangbbang in terms of gameplay quality.
If you’re not going to control your summons manually, you shouldn’t be playing a summoner character at all.
Without much flair, I used a single water summon to draw the enemy core’s aggro while swinging my flame sword.
After a few repetitions, the enemy core player cried for help, calling in their Guardian and Scout.
They should’ve called for reinforcements earlier.
And maybe because the enemy core couldn’t even perform at a baseline level, their trio was hardly a threat.
The enemy Guardian used an area-wide binding skill, but I had already timed the first derived skill of the Light Element, [Light of Dispel], perfectly in advance.
The skill only activates when used precisely one second before the attack lands, making it tricky to execute.
But their play was so predictable that I pulled it off easily.
Dodging the crowd control effect like it was nothing, I dashed forward smoothly.
“Come here, I won’t bite.”
Whoosh! Boom!
By the 10-minute mark, the enemy team surrendered.
Our Chun Hye-eun Guardian typed into chat, dazed:
Han Yurim’s ZeroCola (Guardian): My Bondragon…
Well, whose fault is it for making such a bad pick? Never choose that character again.
I queued for the next match and crushed it.
After repeating this process a few more times, I quickly climbed to Diamond III.
Thanks to being placed near Challenger tier in the previous season, I was gaining points rapidly.
With that, the first goal was achieved.
I hurried to Mos’s stream.
Han Yurim: “How do you even sleep at Diamond IV?”
Viewers:
“I’ll be taking my leave now,” Mos muttered before ending his stream.
As expected of a Scout, his stealthy retreat was flawless.
But it didn’t matter—I still had two targets left.
I turned my sights to a cheeky rabbit who hadn’t even reached Master tier yet.
“Bunnyrun, you gluttonous little thing. I spoiled you with too much good food, and now you’re saying Diamond V stinks too much to hang out with?”
Bunnyrun: “I didn’t say it was that bad!”
A rabbit voice spoke over the voice chat, but I ignored it and went through the ban-pick phase.
By tomorrow, I’ll be at Master rank.
And then… it’s game on.
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Read : The strongest ones won't let me go to war
Thanks for the chapter