“What… What?”
“What kind of nonsense is this?”
The marketing team leader’s bewildered response made the manager of Lotus―Cha Eunha grimace.
However, as a manager, it was his duty to clearly convey the player’s position and requests to the organization. Steeling his resolve, he calmly reiterated, “Lotus―Cha Eunha is preparing for this brawl tournament with as much dedication as the regular season. It shows how committed she is to giving her all.”
“And how does that relate to the request you’re making now? Are you saying Lotus actually made such a request?”
“Yes, unbelievable as it sounds, it’s true.”
“Well, saying this at the last minute…”
The marketing team leader’s lament left the meeting room’s atmosphere icy.
Lotus’ request, conveyed through her manager, was simple: to permanently ban a specific weapon category from the upcoming brawl tournament, preventing participants from choosing it.
Normally, Soul Warfare tournaments—including the regular season—allowed all weapons during the pick-ban process.
Exceptions were made only when bugs or errors caused severe game-breaking issues.
Even if a weapon was considered overpowered or utterly useless, Soul Warfare adhered to this unwritten rule.
So for Lotus to demand a change that violated these conventions and altered tournament regulations was no trivial matter, especially for the marketing team leader.
There was a risk of backlash from fans accusing the team of bending rules arbitrarily.
Noise marketing, even if intentional, wouldn’t justify this kind of controversy.
It was no wonder the team members remained silent, hesitant to agree to such a precarious demand.
Even if the request came from Lotus, the star player and successor to the legendary Warden, none dared to voice their support.
***
As the room fell into silence, with everyone merely gauging their boss’s reaction, Lotus’ manager calmly continued her explanation.
“Lotus wants every participant to give their best in this tournament. She wants the top-performing player to emerge victorious so she can face them at their peak.”
“Finding someone who isn’t giving their all in this brawl tournament would already be challenging, wouldn’t you agree?”
The total prize pool for the brawl was 100 million won, with 60 million won reserved for the winner.
The prestige carried by being part of the world’s top esports organization was immense, built on consistent investment over time.
Although this was a once-a-year event, the stakes were incredibly high.
In addition to the significant prize money, the winner also secured a partnership with STK’s streaming service, gaining promotional boosts.
Depending on their performance, they might even join the team as a reserve or main squad player.
While this decision was subject to consensus between the analysis team and the organization’s pro players, it was rare to see another amateur tournament offering such opportunities.
“Of course, I understand that. But Lotus specifically pointed out one individual among the participants.”
“And who might that be?”
Adjusting his glasses, the manager answered, “Friede.”
The team leader’s lips clamped shut, and the manager seized the opportunity to press further.
“I understand Soul Warfare’s tradition of allowing all weapons. It aligns with the developer’s vision of valuing freedom and respecting every player’s choice. However…”
He knew it was time to reframe Lotus’ stance in a way that could sway the team leader.
“As you’re well aware, there are certain weapons with extremely low pick rates. For example, the one Friede uses…”
“The Broken Greatsword…”
“Exactly. Weapons like that.”
The team leader let out an ambiguous groan.
The Broken Greatsword, Wooden Club, and Branding Iron—known collectively as the “Soul Warfare No-Hope Trio.”
Rumor had it that if players of equal skill faced off and one chose one of these three weapons, they’d lose 100% of the time.
Their dismal performance made them infamous.
So much so that they were called “data scraps,” devoid of redeeming qualities compared to any other weapon in their category.
Despite occasional calls for buffs, particularly for the Branding Iron and Broken Greatsword due to their unique concepts, they were met with silence.
***
“This brawl tournament is supposed to be a high-level showdown among top-tier players. Bringing a weapon like the Broken Greatsword to such an event is disrespectful to opponents.”
“Furthermore, if someone were to win with such a weapon, it might highlight Friede’s skill but could harm the tournament’s overall quality. If a mishap were to occur during a match between Friede and Lotus…”
“Are you saying Lotus is worried about losing to Friede?”
“No. Lotus isn’t contemplating defeat. She’s simply striving for victory. This is my personal opinion—ensuring the player’s protection is natural.”
“An amateur defeating a pro player with the Broken Greatsword…”
“It wasn’t a situation anyone could easily accept.”
“Although STK was the most popular team, it also had the most vocal critics.”
“Handing the haters such prime material to attack their ace player wasn’t worth the risk.”
“And this was just an amateur tournament.”
“If anything went wrong, and the player’s mentality crumbled, it could lead to a performance drop in the next season.”
The manager’s reasoning was not without merit.
***
“And Lotus said something else.”
“Yes?”
The team leader, now visibly uneasy, braced himself.
The manager smiled faintly and added, “Don’t you all want to see Friede’s true skill with a proper weapon?”
The room fell silent, mouths agape in unspoken astonishment.
Indeed, the current Soul Warfare community buzz revolved around Friede.
And Lotus, chosen as the tournament’s final boss, was the perfect counterpart for a showdown.
While Friede’s early elimination was possible, the prospect of a match between Friede, the top amateur, and Lotus, the pro champion, was enticing.
It had all the makings of a gripping storyline.
The manager’s speech concluded, leaving only the decision to be made.
***
“We understand the manager’s words and the player’s stance. However…”
The team leader sighed deeply, finalizing his response.
“Even so, banning specific weapons cannot proceed. For reasons previously explained…”
“But if Friede wins using the Broken Greatsword, or faces Lotus with it, what do you think will happen?”
The manager interrupted, pushing his argument further.
The team leader calmly replied, “Whether Lotus wins or loses… neither outcome will be well-received.”
If Lotus won, people would dismiss it as “of course, it was just the Broken Greatsword.”
If she lost, they’d mock her for being defeated by such a weapon.
It was an inescapable trap for the player—a lose-lose scenario.
Fans would undoubtedly fuel the flames, but arbitrarily changing the rules would undermine the organization’s fairness.
Fans weren’t foolish; they’d recognize a targeted ban out of fear of an amateur player.
Even for an event tournament, damaging the team’s image wasn’t worth it.
***
“There’s no guarantee Friede will win. So far, Friede has only faced challengers in the lower Grandmaster tier.”
“While the outcome is unpredictable, basing a decision solely on speculation and one player’s request is impossible.”
“If that’s the case, then Lotus…”
“If we were to enforce a targeted ban, the narrative would shift: ‘Lotus needed the organization to rig the rules to justify her loss.’ The internet thrives on such drama, doesn’t it?”
“As harsh as it sounded, it was the truth.”
“If she’s so worried, why doesn’t Lotus just use the Broken Greatsword as well? If they battle with the same weapon, people won’t criticize too much.”
“I actually mentioned that, but Lotus refused, saying she must do her best to win as a professional.”
Seeing the manager’s frustration as he held his head, the team leader shook his head in disbelief.
Lotus’ strong sense of pride was proving to be a hindrance at a time like this.
‘I’ve always been uneasy about her strong ego, and now it’s coming back to bite us.’
“If it were Warden, with his mindset of dedication to the team, he might have willingly used the Broken Greatsword.”
“Last year, Warden had participated, but they couldn’t keep exhausting the same player every year.”
“Plus, they had hoped to leverage Lotus as a female pro for promotional purposes.”
‘Who knew this would turn into such a misstep…?’
While Lotus’ reasoning wasn’t entirely wrong, her knack for exhausting those around her left the team leader sighing in resignation.
‘In a way, he could somewhat sympathize with the manager’s predicament.’
‘What to do…’
‘Though he said otherwise, the team leader had to admit that Friede was an exceptional player with a strong chance of winning.’
‘If Friede ended up facing Lotus, the manager’s concerns wouldn’t be entirely misplaced.’
As he racked his brain for a solution, the team leader wiped the sweat off his increasingly shiny forehead and muttered,
“Let’s impose a usage limit.”
“What?”
“What?”
“Huh?”
“We can’t ban the weapon outright, but we can restrict the number of times any weapon can be used during the tournament. This brawl isn’t just for publicity; it’s also about discovering new talent.”
“Ah!”
Everyone in the meeting room turned their attention to the team leader, who, brimming with enthusiasm, elaborated on his idea.
The assistant clapped in agreement.
“That sounds reasonable. If we limit weapon usage, participants will have to use a variety of weapons. For aspiring pros, versatility is a must. The justification isn’t bad.”
“And it might reduce the chances of Friede using the Broken Greatsword against Lotus.”
“Right. It’s not a permanent ban on a specific weapon, so it avoids looking like a targeted restriction.”
“But what if Friede saves the Broken Greatsword until the finals?”
The manager voiced his concern, but the team leader simply shook his head.
This was the most they could reasonably offer.
The rest would be up to the participants.
Considering Friede’s obsession with using the Broken Greatsword, there was a chance they might exhaust its usage limit early on.
“Understood. I’ll leave it to you.”
Recognizing the compromise, the manager had no choice but to agree.
All that remained was to convince and coordinate with the player.
As the meeting adjourned, everyone began leaving one by one.
The team leader leaned back in his chair, letting the tension drain from his body.
***
Friede.
A player truly capable of causing a sensation.
Their meteoric rise from unranked to Challenger, using only the Broken Greatsword, was legendary.
Their remarkable feats and magnetic appeal were undeniable, albeit troublesome.
The team leader pulled out his smartphone and zoomed in on an image in his gallery.
It depicted a knight adorned in a cloak of golden waves and holy silver armor, wielding the Broken Greatsword.
It was Friede.
“Friede-nee-chan, forgive me.”
He thought, ‘The Broken Greatsword is great, but wouldn’t it be even more incredible to see you fight with a more elegant weapon?’
“Love you♡”
No one could have imagined that a peculiar, covert desire was the real reason for this suggestion, beyond the practical concerns.
***
The end of a long journey was in sight.
When our team’s tank extinguished the enemy’s final bonfire, the victory message appeared, followed by the MVP highlight.
As the MVP, my avatar stood by the team’s bonfire, burning like a log.
The flames became a torch illuminating the world.
This third-person cutscene felt strange, as though there were two of me.
Sure, earning MVPs helps unlock rare profile themes as achievements, but that wasn’t the main point.
-Swoosh!
Just like in the MVP cutscene, my profile ignited in fiery splendor, reborn in the blaze.
Unlike the metallic themes matching previous tiers, this was the fiery emblem of the highest rank in Soul Warfare: Challenger.
I, Friede, had finally made it to Challenger tier!
[Friede! Friede! Friede! Friede!]
[Wow, they actually made it!]
[Sis, congrats congrats congrats!]
[An unstoppable winning streak 🔥🔥🔥]
[Friede is a god! Broken Greatsword is unbeatable!]
[Imagine a player using the Broken Greatsword 90% of the time since unranked and reaching Challenger… and they’re a woman! Legend.]
[Friede is the heavenly demon!]
The chat was flooded with congratulatory messages, some of which were a bit embarrassing.
But for now, I didn’t mind.
Even if it was technically spamming, I could let it slide—or rather, I had no choice but to let it slide.
The chat had become a flood akin to the Nile overflowing its banks.
Not that it mattered much at this point.
Reaching Challenger filled me with a sense of pride.
I decided to savor this moment of triumph a bit longer.
***
I lingered in the Soul Warfare lobby, basking in my achievement.
After about five minutes, an overly enthusiastic text-to-speech alert pulled me out of my reverie.
[10,000 won donation from Sieg Garterbelt: Sis! Huge news! Check the Soul Warfare Outban notice right now!]
[20,000 won donation from Dominator: Our sis is about to be forced back into the ring LOL.]
[25,000 won donation from ‘Midyr Eats Sis’: Time to drop the training weights, sensei.]
Huge news? Forced back? Training weights?
I couldn’t decipher the cryptic messages that sounded like wartime codes.
Following the hints, I navigated to the Soul Warfare Outban site.
At the top of the screen, a banner announced major game news:
【Notice: Changes to STK Brawl Tournament Rules】
‘Rule changes? How does that involve me?’
I clicked on it absentmindedly and began reading the content.
[To introduce more variables in gameplay during the upcoming STK Brawl Tournament, the following rule has been added:
Additional Rule: Weapon usage will be limited to a maximum of two times per weapon during the tournament.
This update will be communicated individually to all participants. Please refer to this when preparing for the tournament.
Thank you.]
The organizers had effectively turned my main weapon into a two-token wonder.
“What the hell? Give me back my weapon!”