To start with the conclusion, day one of playing Battle of Legend was a series of trial and error.
I felt a strong need to completely revise my overall plan.
“Was it really such a difficult request, just to hear me out…?”
I didn’t think choosing the archer as my main character was a mistake.
Even after comparing the strengths and weaknesses of each class, it was hard to find one as appealing as the archer.
However, ranked game players had extremely strong confirmation bias.
Their prejudices and preconceptions were rock solid.
It was unrealistic to persuade them during the short, less-than-five-minute character selection phase.
Why do they hate archers so much?
The moment an archer’s portrait appeared on the character selection screen, most teammates showed instant disgust.
If I politely asked whether I could pick the archer, nine out of ten would respond by asking if I was trolling.
The tenth one would just leave the game.
I even searched online wondering if there had been some kind of incident involving archers, but all I could find were highlight reels of pro players performing well with the class.
Though… their usage was a bit different from what I had in mind.
In any case, it was clear that the archer’s image was far worse than I expected.
So, I included that negative perception as a new variable in my revised plan.
Then, I shifted my approach — not to make people understand why I picked the archer, but to make them accept it.
“I need to save time… So instead of explaining in chat, I’ll just use my nickname.”
Tap-tap-tap. Clack.
[TrialAccount01 → “ForgivenessIsFasterThanPermission”]
“Mm, that’s bold. At least they’ll probably watch me first before judging.”
Satisfied with the bold nuance of my new nickname, I went on to Seoyeon’s YouTube channel.
Thanks to the variety of her gameplay videos, it was great for simulating different scenarios in advance.
『Sigh… Lost control of the central temple. Okay, let’s push the lane while their knight is away in the celestial realm.』
“I’m doing this to teach Seoyeon, so I guess I’ll have to play warrior sometimes too…”
Seoyeon’s YouTube channel — that is, MaruTube — featured several videos with archers as well.
The problem was, most of the archers in those videos didn’t seem to care about winning.
Archers who fired arrows pointlessly into the sky.
Archers who used arrows to draw letters on the ground instead of hitting enemies.
Archers who just walked straight toward the enemies after the game started, only to be instantly killed…
“When I start streaming… fixing that image comes first.”
There were a lot of bad-mannered players out there making the archer’s already poor image even worse.
Which was a shame — because from my analysis, the archer was too good a class to be left as it was.
So from day two onward, I focused on exemplary gameplay.
Greeting all teammates warmly.
Praising each teammate’s contributions every time we won a skirmish, and so on.
[ForgivenessIsFasterThanPermission (Archer): Priest, thanks for the heals. Thanks to you, the warrior could keep holding the frontline.]
[ForgivenessIsFasterThanPermission (Archer): Great decision marking the enemy warrior, Knight!]
[Dokidoki (Knight): Maybe shoot arrows instead of typing? A rogue might sneak in via the shrine.]
By using chat to boost team morale, the overall vibe of the game definitely became more positive.
Unlike day one, where everything was blamed on the archer no matter what happened.
[ForgivenessIsFasterThanPermission (Archer): The enemy warrior just respawned.]
[Mabebe (Warrior): G—
[Sinbaljang (Priest): Just say “warrior top.”]
By using the archer’s wide field of view to give precise enemy location briefings, we could clearly distinguish when to fight and when to retreat.
At least when I gave map info, people actually listened.
Thanks to that, I gained a much clearer understanding of how Battle of Legend actually plays out.
I also internalized what roles I needed to perform at each stage of the game.
As time went by, about a month passed.
I stood at the threshold between Gold and Platinum.
[Victory!]
“…Phew.”
After finishing the last match with a win, I stretched and took off my VR headset.
Maybe because I’d hit today’s goal, I felt genuinely satisfied. I rested my arm on the VR treadmill.
Of course, it wasn’t all smooth sailing up to this point.
I went on multiple losing streaks, got mistaken for a “one-trick roleplayer” a few times.
But after a certain number of games, I learned to coordinate my team.
All I had to do was tell them to search my nickname.
Once they did, the amount of criticism dropped drastically.
[ForgivenessIsFasterThanPermission]
Gold 87P
“At this pace… hmm…”
While calculating how fast I could rank up, I suddenly remembered Assistant Manager Kim’s Diamond rank.
They only played casually, yet reached Diamond…
Maybe Kim was more skilled than I gave credit for.
[ILoveLowSodium]
Diamond 32P
“…That’s pretty impressive.”
Maybe it was because I realized how tough Battle of Legend actually was.
I saw him in a new light.
Anyway, I stepped off the VR treadmill.
And headed to the bathroom to wash off my sweat-soaked body.
Battle of Legend turned out to be surprisingly physically demanding.
—Swoooosh…
The warm water trickled down the ends of my hair.
Droplets formed and fell from the curves of my body.
I scrubbed myself with various shower products, replaying today’s matches in my mind.
Standing under the warm stream without wearing anything was perfect for zoning out and reflecting.
Maybe there really is a meaningful link between being soaked from head to toe and the brain’s hormones.
—Creak.
I finished showering like always, stepped out, and grabbed a towel.
The feel of the white towel brushing against my wet skin was strangely chilly today.
…Just a bit. Just enough to make me shiver.
I realized my body felt slightly more sensitive than usual, so I opened the drawer to take out something that would help calm me down.
In these situations, it’s better to ground yourself early.
If not… I can get a bit… edgy.
Swish, swish. The sound of yarn being woven through knitting needles filled the room. My heart gradually settled.
My personal calming routine worked wonders once again.
But just as I was weaving the threads together—
My phone on the table began to buzz loudly.
Who could it be?
Answering mid-knitting was kind of annoying, but…
[Executive Director Jung Hwayoon]
The moment she saw the name, her hand moved first.
After a brief phone call ended, she was already pulling clothes from the wardrobe to go out.
***
“Today it’s toast, Miss likes to—”
“…Mister…”
A pale blue dawn.
At the vivid image of a dream still lingering in her mind, Jung Hwayoon’s just-awakened voice trailed off faintly.
Soon after, she came out into the living room, pressing a hand to her forehead, and there he was—her brother, Jung Doyoon.
More curt than ever compared to the past, Doyoon gave a sidelong glance at his sister, then with a flick of his gaze, pointed toward the food prepared by the housekeeper.
A silent signal for her to eat.
“It’s the anniversary again, huh…”
“I’ll handle it.”
At her sharp reply, a faint sigh slipped from Doyoon’s lips.
When would she ever let go of that person’s memory?
Or was it that she only turned this sharp with him?
It was an old question, and once again, no answer came.
With silence stretching on, Doyoon said nothing more and left through the front door.
Soon after, Jung Hwayoon left as well.
Later that morning.
Main conference room, Yeryeo Hotel HQ.
Murmur.
Murmur.
The board members sat around a thick glass table.
Reports and data lay scattered across it, and the atmosphere in the room felt subtly tense.
“So, what are your thoughts on the Q2 sales improvement plan, Executive Director?”
The marketing director asked with a faint smile.
But hidden behind that look was a clear intent to test Hwayoon.
The expressions of the other directors were much the same.
Polite on the surface, but inwardly their eyes said, “What would the chairman’s granddaughter know?”
Parachute.
That’s how they saw Jung Hwayoon—not here for her abilities, but for her background.
“I’ve reviewed the report thoroughly. The direction of the proposed promotions looks promising, but…”
Though she clearly saw through their intentions, Jung Hwayoon maintained a perfectly calculated smile.
Showing emotion was no different from showing weakness.
It was a method she’d naturally mastered as she grew up, losing the people dearest to her.
More Q&A followed, along with directives.
Outwardly, the meeting ended smoothly.
“Thank you for your work.”
As the directors filed out one by one, only then did Hwayoon let her smile fade.
Staring at the documents with a blank face for a moment, she suddenly made up her mind and called her secretary.
“Cancel all my afternoon appointments.”
“Pardon? But ma’am…”
“Something urgent came up.”
Her secretary looked puzzled, but Hwayoon gave no further explanation.
What she needed now was someone untouched by the tangled web of power plays between the hotel directors.
And where she was headed—she didn’t want anyone else to know.
Because it could become her weakness.
That’s why she contacted a junior employee—a newly hired staff member without connections.
Also, because the person had reminded her just a little of someone she used to know.
“Sorry. I dragged you out for something personal.”
“It’s okay. I’ll just pretend we’re on a date, Director.”
“…You haven’t changed.”
Yoo Seoa quietly entered the destination into the navigation system and smoothly started the car.
Hwayoon sat gazing silently out the window.
The only words exchanged were light, work-related chatter.
Time passed.
Eventually, they arrived at a parking lot near a cemetery.
“It won’t take long. Will you wait?”
“Of course.”
After Hwayoon stepped out and walked into the distance, Yoo Seoa watched quietly.
It was no surprise—this was a place familiar to her too.
It felt strange, standing in the place where she herself was buried.
The timing didn’t help either—her body had been extra sensitive lately.
“…Should’ve taken some medicine beforehand.”
Looking up at the sky for a moment, Seoa saw heavy gray clouds gathering.
She decided to run to a convenience store—just in case, to grab a painkiller and maybe an umbrella.
Meanwhile, Hwayoon had arrived in front of a familiar grave.
She exhaled quietly.
“Mister… I’m here.”
She stood silently before the tombstone.
Blankly, she began to speak words that had long since turned into monologues since their farewell long ago.
“They all think I’m just a parachute—hiding behind the Yeryeo name, holding a seat I didn’t earn…
But at least you would’ve been on my side…”
Her voice trailed off.
She couldn’t continue.
Her head drooped.
Her shoulders trembled slightly.
Plip.
Plop.
Thick raindrops began to fall from the gray sky without warning.
Cold and warm streams mingled, flowing down her cheeks.
And then—
The cold drops stopped.
“…You’ll catch a cold in the rain.”
A calm voice, as always.
A small umbrella appeared over her head.
Her gaze, which had been fixed downward, slowly rose.
Though her vision was blurred and she couldn’t even see the person’s expression—strangely, it didn’t feel unfamiliar.
“How many points did I earn this time, I wonder?”