Chapter 57: The Art of Perfect Synchronization

“PaePae enters the game, hahaha!”

Alright, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!

Don’t get it twisted— you’re the challenger here. Don’t get it twisted— you’re the challenger here. Don’t get it twisted— you’re the challenger here.

When the opponent picked Metatron, I had a hunch, but after checking the chat, my suspicion was confirmed—it was PaePae.

From Challenger rank onwards, you only match against the same few players.

There simply aren’t enough of them.

Jokingly, Eternal World players say that Challengers are like kids playing private matches all day.

It wasn’t far from the truth.

Most Challengers were already friends in the system.

It really was like friends battling each other all the time.

That’s why it was surprising that this was my first encounter with PaePae in our race to 1st place.

Normally, we would’ve crossed paths more often.

How many pros are in this match? Haha.

Everyone except PaePae and me was a pro player.

The lineup was packed with stars—Ppang Ppang’s teammates, last year’s World Championship winner, and more.

Even in Challenger, it was rare to see a match like this.

The game began.

Spawning at the control point, I headed toward the city center.

I hadn’t switched back to the city core position for long—maybe since I reached Challenger rank 30?

It got tougher from there, and while Noa Weber was still viable, viewers started complaining about seeing too many Guardians.

“Kill me… please, someone end this chicken run.”
“My sleep schedule is ruined. Please save me.”

Stuff like that.

You know it’s bad when seeing too many Guardians messes up people’s daily routines.

As a developer who cares deeply about the audience, I couldn’t ignore this, so I made adjustments.

You’re welcome.

“Kill me already, hahaha.”

I grew steadily, farming Tier-5 and Tier-4 objectives.

I usually avoided a balanced farming strategy like this, but it depended on the situation.

The enemy had picked Ormal for their city core. Rushing in early would’ve been asking to lose.

Ormal was the kind of all-in early-game character that felt great when I farmed evenly.

Trying to brute-force against Ormal was something you could attempt up to Grandmaster rank.

At Challenger, you had to show respect.

Especially when the player was last year’s World Champion.

So Ormal is starting to appear in matches now.

I thought everyone would start spamming it because of how absurdly strong it was, but surprisingly, I hadn’t run into anyone using it until now.

Maybe it had a reputation for being too much of a noob-stomper.

Anyway, the enemy Guardian was Noa Weber.

Currently the most overpowered character, so I needed to grow cautiously.

[Enemy Save the Rockfish is…]
[Enemy Save the Rockfish is—]
[Enemy Save the Rockfish is on a rampage.]

…What?

Seeing these messages pop up in quick succession over two minutes left me flustered.

What the heck was happening?

Was the enemy Noa Weber angry about the extinction of rockfish due to global warming?

They had started a massacre.

But to hunt down and kill multiple players in such a short time using Noa Weber… that playstyle felt familiar.

Repent for your sins.

As expected of a Challenger—they’d perfectly copied the playstyle already.

A quick search revealed that the player was one of Ppang Ppang’s teammates.

With that level of adaptation, they were undoubtedly in the upper echelon of pros.

Han Yurim’s Style No. 1: the Noa Weber chase play.

The key to countering it was to avoid being targeted from the start.

If you weren’t completely stuck in the control point, there was no escaping Noa Weber’s insane mobility.

If you wanted to fight back, you’d need near-perfect gameplay.

After three deaths, it seemed our scout finally realized the danger and called in our Guardian for backup.

With two players roaming as a pair, the risk of ambushes dropped significantly.

But it wasn’t exactly a great situation.

The enemy Guardian, now with three kills, was a problem, but even more concerning was PaePae’s momentum.

An unbothered main carry? Just imagining it was terrifying.

As expected, my fears were soon realized.

The enemy’s strength was overwhelming, and we had no choice but to concede a Tier-3 objective.

Ormal dominated the frontline while the well-fed Noa Weber controlled the flanks, leaving us no openings.

Even if I managed to assassinate PaePae, our main force would still crumble.

The next key objective was the [Rift] in the city center.

At this rate, things were looking grim. Was there any way out of this?

After the [Rift] skirmish, PaePae let out a dry laugh.

“What the heck did I just witness?”

“Wow. Unbelievable.”

“Is that a cheat? That’s the kind of play that makes you call someone a hacker automatically.”

PaePae replayed the recent skirmish in his mind.

Ormal’s power had waned slightly since they hadn’t been able to secure kills, but PaePae knew better than anyone how broken Ormal could be.

He had watched plenty of Han Yurim’s streams to understand that.

The only thing that prevented this from being considered a completely “unnecessary” and “unpleasant” skill was its absolute utility in the right hands.

Thierry’s water-element-derived ultimate, Doppelgänger, created a water clone that was identical to Han Yurim in appearance and movements.

The skill itself wasn’t anything special at first glance.

The clone mirrored every action made by Han Yurim, but the key problem was its execution.

The player had to simultaneously control both the main character and the clone.

The Doppelgänger didn’t have any automated features.

Its movements didn’t follow pre-set attack patterns, and it wouldn’t simply target enemies on its own.

Every attack, movement, and even reaction had to be handled manually by the player.

Naturally, this made the skill infamous.

Most players wouldn’t dare use it because controlling both the original character and the clone required incredible multitasking skills.

The slightest misstep meant the water clone was rendered useless—just an empty shell standing on the battlefield.

In the hands of an ordinary player, Doppelgänger was practically a liability.

However, in the hands of a player like Han Yurim, it became a game-changing weapon.

As the shimmering water figure emerged next to Han Yurim, both her team and her enemies momentarily froze in astonishment.

It wasn’t just about the clone itself—it was the implications of its presence.

“…She’s actually using that here?” muttered someone from the enemy team.

Everyone knew the skill was powerful, but they also understood its risks.

Using Doppelgänger in a crucial battle like this was akin to balancing on a knife’s edge.

Han Yurim’s control skills were about to be put to the ultimate test.

Meanwhile, PaePae felt his focus sharpen as he observed the unfolding situation.

‘She’s gambling everything on that move.’

Han Yurim’s water clone was already moving in sync with her main character.

Every skill, every movement was executed with precision.

The synergy between the two was nothing short of terrifying.

The Doppelgänger wasn’t just mimicking attacks—it was actively targeting critical points in PaePae’s formation.

The enemy team scrambled to respond.

“Shut it down! Don’t let her build momentum!” someone shouted.

But shutting it down wasn’t easy.

The real Han Yurim and her clone darted across the battlefield with impeccable coordination, forcing the enemy team to split their focus.

The result? Chaos.

From PaePae’s perspective, it was clear that Han Yurim wasn’t just showing off her skills.

Every move was calculated, every attack deliberate.

She was dismantling their strategy piece by piece.

‘I knew she was good, but this…’

PaePae couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration amid the tension.

But admiration wouldn’t win the game.

‘Focus. She’s not invincible.’

He tightened his grip on the mouse and keyboard, preparing to counter her moves.

Han Yurim had made her play, but the game wasn’t over yet.

The water clone was a weaker version of the main body.

Its stats and skill damage were only about half as effective.

And yet, every movement had to be manually controlled, which made it a headache to use.

Ordinary summoned units could be directed with on-screen virtual control keys, which became second nature with practice.

After all, if it were truly difficult, no professional players would have been able to effectively use summoner characters like Han Chanhyuk.

But Thierry’s Doppelgänger was different.

True to its name, the clone moved just like the main character and had to be controlled as if it were another character entirely.

It sounded simple in theory, but in practice, it was nearly impossible.

No one could effectively manage controlling two characters at the same time, switching back and forth between the original and the clone.

Back in the days of mouse-and-keyboard gameplay, this level of multitasking was already challenging.

In the era of VR gaming—especially for a close-combat character like Thierry—it was practically unthinkable.

Thus, most players dismissed Thierry’s water-element ultimate as an unusable skill.

But PaePae stayed alert.

This was Han Yurim.

She wouldn’t do something like this without a reason.

Han Yurim and her clone dashed forward together.

Whoosh.

Flames danced along Han Yurim’s sword.

Simultaneously, water rippled down the blade of the clone.

The synchronization between Han Yurim and her clone was seamless, as if they shared one mind.

Watching her unleash skills in perfect harmony, PaePae couldn’t help but smirk.

“Of course, Han Yurim… I knew you’d pull this off.”

Three pairs of wings appeared behind PaePae.

From this point forward, all of Metatron’s attacks became ranged.

Having achieved Third Ascension, PaePae summoned a radiant blade of light and hurled it at Han Yurim.

The Sword of Covenant grew stronger with every stack it accumulated, and its effects evolved with each stage of ascension.

• First Ascension: Bonus damage.
• Second Ascension: Mana burn.
• Third Ascension: The skill transformed into an area-of-effect attack.

Han Yurim and her clone darted apart in perfect unison to evade the incoming Sword of Covenant.

However, they couldn’t fully escape the attack’s range.

Their health took a significant hit.

Undeterred, PaePae summoned another Sword of Covenant.

Unlike most characters who relied on basic attacks, Metatron treated its primary skill as a substitute for basic attacks.

The cooldown time was short, comparable to that of normal attacks.

Mana consumption was usually a drawback, but PaePae’s fully leveled-up build rendered it a non-issue.

Swoosh! The radiant sword tore through the air, targeting Han Yurim once more.

But this time, she dodged entirely.

Her movement was extraordinary, making it impossible for PaePae to hit her with imprecise throws.

He entered a state of hyper-focus.

All his attention was on Han Yurim.

Every skill he unleashed was calculated, deliberate.

The enhanced Sword of Covenant was a high-speed, area-of-effect projectile.

It was nearly impossible to evade, even for Han Yurim.

Gradually, he managed to whittle her health down to two-thirds.

Finally, Han Yurim closed the gap between them completely.

PaePae, rather than retreating, gripped his Sword of Covenant tightly and prepared to fight head-on.

In their last melee encounter, he had lost by the narrowest of margins.

He hadn’t been completely outclassed.

With the current situation in his favor, he felt confident he could win against her this time.

Flaming and radiant swords clashed in midair as their fierce duel unfolded.

Strikes and evasions repeated endlessly in a grueling exchange of blows.

As their battle escalated into an extreme test of reaction speed, PaePae let out a laugh filled with exhilaration.

Unlike before, he was coming out on top in both reaction speed and damage trades.

After all, no one could always perform at their best.

Some games just didn’t go your way, while others did.

Overall, Han Yurim’s skills and physical abilities were superior to PaePae’s.

But at this moment, I’m stronger.

“Han Yurim! I win this bet!” PaePae declared triumphantly, unleashing his final strike.

But in the next instant, enemy team members swarmed in and overwhelmed him.

As his screen turned gray, signaling his defeat, PaePae stared blankly at the battlefield.

In the distance, Han Yurim and her water clone stood side by side, striking a confident pose with their hands forming victory signs.

“…Right.”

He had forgotten.

That was a thing too.