Chapter 73: Unpredictable Moves and Unspoken Truths

“Rojon? Who’s that?”

“Even if others don’t know, shouldn’t MalangForehead know? You’ve played with them before.”

“Played before…? Oh, are you talking about the person who sniped us back then?”

At my explanation, Moss snapped his fingers as if he had finally remembered.

Then, looking puzzled, he asked,

“Doesn’t that person avoid live streaming? Would they even qualify for the competition?”

“They started streaming after that incident. Their average viewer count has steadily increased, and now it’s around 40 viewers. Plus, an anonymous expert regularly donates and gives them feedback, which has caused their Eternal World tier to skyrocket.”

“And how exactly do you know all this, Yurim?” Moss questioned, his tone skeptical.

I offered a benevolent smile, raising my index finger to my lips in a gesture of secrecy.

“It’s classified information.”

“Are you some cosplay-addicted time traveler?”

“To be precise, I’m a psychic.”

“More like an alien.”

Scratching his head, Moss checked the members of the “Unstoppable Rampage Potato” team.

“Their balance looks solid.”

“They’ve thought it through.”

Though they only had one Challenger player, the rest of the team was filled with high-tier players: Challenger, Grandmaster, Grandmaster, and Diamond.

At a glance, their composition seemed similar to ours.

However, their two weaker members were Gold and Silver. In terms of balance, they couldn’t compare to our team.

“Wow, our team really has a lot of point-eating hippos.”

“And who’s the hippo talking here?”

“That was directed at MalangForehead.”

“I’m a Grandmaster in terms of skill, so I’m a cost-effective pick.”

“I’m also a cost-effective pick when it comes to skill.”

I pulled up the pre-analyzed strategy against “Unstoppable Rampage Potato” in the VR room. Paepae looked at it, baffled.

“You prepared this in advance?”

“It’s basic preparation for tournaments.”

“I mean, true, but normally you’d analyze matchups after advancing past the group stage. The rules are that the group stage matchups are announced on the day itself. Did you analyze all 64 teams ahead of time or something?”

“Alright, the key to countering ‘Unstoppable Rampage Potato’ is simple.”

I tapped the screen, highlighting the team’s most notable player: a monster-tier VTuber with silver hair and eyes—Rojon.

“Rojon has gotten significantly stronger thanks to advice from an anonymous expert. If they fully awaken, even our team will be in danger.”

Paepae and Moss nodded at my briefing, then glanced at each other.

MalangForehead, who’s that Challenger player in the Urban Core role?”

“They’re a former trainee. They’re good at team play. But since Han Yurim will crush anyone in the Urban Core role, we don’t need to worry about them.”

“Then it’s a guaranteed win.”

“Guys? Rojon is the main carry and plays Diamond. They’re neither an Urban Core player nor a Challenger.”

Ignoring my words, Moss and Paepae left the VR room to log into Eternal World for the group stage.

Similarly, the Korean university duo and Bunnyrun left as well.

Left alone in the empty VR room, I blinked before returning to organize the data.

It wasn’t easy to grasp everything in just one explanation. I’d need to go over it again later.

Meanwhile, Rojon took a deep breath. His team members chatted over the voice messenger.

“Wow, we’re up against a major team in the first match.”

“Paepae, Han Yurim, and even Bunnyrun are on that team?”

“If we carry this, won’t we hit 1,000 viewers or something?”

Rojon furrowed his brow. Even though the stream was live, his teammates spoke carelessly.

Typical behavior of small-time streamers.

They didn’t realize that just because no one was watching, it didn’t mean their words weren’t problematic.

Rojon silently reflected. He used to think like that too.

He used to believe that if he caught someone’s attention, if he got an opportunity, if he could latch onto the right connections, his live stream audience would grow to thousands, and his YouTube subscribers would hit a million.

He had thought the same about his Eternal World tier.

If he just had good team synergy, played well, or got the right breaks, he could climb to Master or even Challenger.

But really, there was no bigger frog in the well than he had been.

Without preparation, no one could seize an opportunity.

That was true. But in the end, it was only the prepared who could make the most of those opportunities.

Chasing opportunities without working on oneself was no different from being a gambling addict.

Rojon glanced at the viewer list. A regular viewer who always tuned in wasn’t there today.

‘They didn’t show up today?’

The viewer Rojon was looking for was like a benefactor—a mysterious individual who had supported him when he almost gave up on streaming after having zero viewers for a long time.

Their timely donations had felt like a sign to keep going.

What had they said back then? Ah, right:

[InfinityZero’s $1.00 donation: Sweet!]

“Rojon, your game sense is lacking. Your mechanics in chaotic fights are poor. You need to hang back and wait for your teammates to set the stage before you move in. For now, that’s your strength.”

Initially, Rojon didn’t take the comment seriously.

But since they had donated, he figured he might as well try their advice.

The results were dramatic.

[InfinityZero’s $1.00 donation: Sweet!]

“Did you not understand what I said? If your mechanics are weak in chaotic fights, pick a ranged damage dealer. Why are you playing melee?”

[InfinityZero’s $1.00 donation: Sweet!]

“You don’t have the game sense to initiate fights. Stop trying to start team fights.”

At first, Rojon was annoyed. Who are you to backseat game me?

But he decided to endure it for the money.

As he continued to follow their advice, things started to make sense.

Slowly but surely, he improved.

[InfinityZero’s $1.00 donation: Sweet!]

“Your reaction speed isn’t bad, but it’s not translating into gameplay because your decision-making is unorganized. You’re spending too much time deciding what to do in the moment, which creates delays. This applies to both macro play and team fights.”

[InfinityZero’s $1.00 donation: Sweet!]

“You can play melee, but you need to improve your game understanding first. Your reaction time isn’t terrible, but the delays are holding you back.”

As he implemented their feedback, his tier climbed step by step until he finally reached Diamond—the highest tier of his life.

InfinityZero’s advice didn’t just apply to the game.

<InfinityZero’s 1,000 Won Donation>

  • “Your editing skills are great, but the upload schedule is a bit slow. Are you perhaps busy with real life?”

<InfinityZero’s 1,000 Won Donation>

  • “It must be tough to juggle working at a convenience store, gaming, and editing videos, but you’ve got to do it. Uploading videos only once every two weeks is ultimately a waste of time. Try consistently posting even short highlights under five minutes.”

<InfinityZero’s 1,000 Won Donation>

  • “And about the ‘totally worth it’ phrase in the donation messages—it’s kind of off-putting. Why not remove it? I’m fine with it, but it might discourage others from donating.”

From advice on broadcasts to tips for MiTube content, and even life counseling, InfinityZero provided it all.

“Both of us were given the same opportunity, but Han Yurim has an average of over 10,000 viewers, while I barely have one. Lately, I’ve been questioning myself: ‘Should someone like me even be streaming? Shouldn’t broadcasting be for brilliant people like Han Yurim?’”

+InfinityZero: “It takes time for people to mature. Just stick with it a little longer. From what I see, Rojon, you’ve got talent that’s beginning to shine.”

Taking the advice to heart, Rojon gradually changed his mindset and way of living.

It was around that time that his viewer count began to grow.

The words from InfinityZero that left the deepest impression on him were these:

“What makes a person grow isn’t time but deep, concentrated reflection.”

Since then, Rojon had spent a lot of time reflecting and thinking. Compared to six months ago, he had become a completely different person.

However, InfinityZero dismissed this transformation with a single statement:

“People don’t change. Only those capable of changing ever do.”

“Hey! The pick-ban phase is starting.”

“What should we ban? ‘Thierry’?”

“Is it even necessary to ban that? Shouldn’t we just target-ban the main champions of the opponent’s lower-ranked players?”

“The low-ranked player switched roles and hasn’t played any solo games since then, so there’s no information.”

Amid the noisy chatter of his teammates, Rojon slowly spoke up.

“Let’s ban Thierry.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“Banning Thierry might not have a huge impact, but there’s even less reason to leave their star player’s signature champion open.”

At Rojon’s remark, one teammate responded with dissatisfaction.

“Is it that big of a deal? Besides, it’s just Thierry. Eunsoo can handle that, right? They’re both Challengers.”

“Of course.”

“But it has to be Thierry.”

The main carry’s choice is predictable—a long-range damage dealer that’s effective even with minimal effort.

It’s better to cut off three of those than take risks.”

Conceding to Rojon’s strong stance, the team reluctantly agreed.

The first ban was Thierry. In response, the opponents banned…

“Lee Sahyang?”

Rojon scratched his cheek awkwardly.

They remembered that incident, huh.

Although he had occasionally tuned into Han Yurim’s streams since then, he hadn’t picked up on any signs of it.

Recalling that embarrassing moment, Rojon took a deep breath to cool his flushed face and continued.

“Let’s ban ‘Ormal’ too.”

“Even Ormal?”

“All remaining bans should target Han Yurim. Ban ‘Kakeyama Ryo’ as well.”

“Hmm… Sure, ‘Kakeyama Ryo’ is tricky with their mobility as a former scout, but do we really need to go this far against Han Yurim? She’s just an amateur who climbed the ladder using Noah Weber’s exploit.”

We do.

This person clearly didn’t know anything about Han Yurim’s skills.

Maybe it was because InfinityZero had sent so many of Han Yurim’s MiTube videos as donation clips for reference, but Rojon had gained a precise understanding of her abilities along with improved game insight.

Noah Weber’s exploit?

Even an exploit deserves credit if it gets you to the top. More importantly, that wasn’t Han Yurim’s strength.

Her greatest asset was her incredibly wide champion pool—it made you wonder if there was any champion she couldn’t play.

This was why targeted bans had limited impact against her. Still, they couldn’t afford to leave those specific picks open.

Han Yurim not only played those champions exceptionally well, but her mastery of Thierry was at a level beyond comprehension.

“What’s she picking instead of Thierry? ‘Han Chan-hyuk’?”

“Is she trying to act like a pro or something?”

Rojon didn’t bother to comment that someone who could handle Thierry as if it were an extension of their own body could surely master Han Chan-hyuk too.

Instead, he steadied his mind.

Focus on my own play.

Leave no room for regret.

That was Rojon’s ultimate goal.

[Reclaiming]

As the objective shattered, Rojon exhaled softly.

Maintaining focus until the very end had been exhausting.

The voice messenger was silent. Ever since the team’s Challenger core, “Unyielding Eunsoo,” had been solo-killed three times in a row by Han Yurim, the channel had stayed quiet.

Though Rojon had taken over as the shot-caller out of necessity, there was no need for him to speak now that the match was over.

So, as team captain, he tried to lighten the mood.

“Let’s get ready for the next match.”

“…Roger.”

“I’ll be back after a quick restroom break.”

The group stage wasn’t over after just one loss.

With four teams in the group, each would face the others once, and the top two would compete in a first-place decider.

As long as they won the remaining matches, they still had a chance.

Rojon massaged his stiff neck.

And then—

<Han Yurim has donated 100,000 won!>

  • “Your skills have improved a lot. It was fun playing against you.”

A donation notification popped up.

…Han Yurim?

The real Han Yurim?

Wow. Such an honored guest in such a shabby place.

“Does Han Yurim know the streamer?”

“Know him? Are they friends or something?”

Rojon scratched his head, embarrassed to explain.

That’s when Han Yurim spoke up:

“I’m a fan.”

With that, she disappeared.

Rojon shook his head.

What an unpredictable person in every sense.

“That person really was the core, huh?” one teammate said.

“Seriously, they were the toughest opponent,” another agreed.

“I told you it’d be dangerous if she got going,” Rojon added.

Sigh.

Conveying sincerity was always such a challenge.


Recommended Novel:

Your next favorite story awaits! Don't miss out on I Became An Elusive Peddler – click to dive in!

Read : I Became An Elusive Peddler
0 0 votes
Article Rating
Subscribe
Notify of
guest
1 Comment
Oldest
Newest
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments