Chapter 56: People Who Give Generously

[Sword Defense Aura: What the hell, damn it.]

Everyone was stunned when the object, which they had worked so hard to secure, ended up in the hands of the enemy team—specifically, in Friede’s hands.

‘They had been vigilant while hunting the object, so how did this happen?’

[damduk: Everyone, look around!]

[Sun Flicking: I didn’t even see an arrow… How did they land the last hit on the object?]

[Sword Defense Aura: I didn’t see anything! Where did that damn woman grab it from?]

[damduk: If I knew, would I be sitting here like this? Does this game even have invisibility enchantments?]

The decision to concentrate three members in one spot was a calculated response—a strategy formulated quickly as high-tier ranked players to block Friede, despite knowing it would create a temporary gap in their team’s power.

But with the object so easily stolen, their efforts felt utterly in vain, leaving them no better than dogs chasing chickens.

Even as their anger and frustration flared, searching desperately in every direction, there was no sign of Friede.

Not even a hint.

It was enough to drive them mad.

[Are we seriously going to see another cheating scandal?]

[From the losing team’s perspective, this is a total circus.]

[Honestly, anyone would suspect cheats here.]

[We know it’s not, but what else can they think?]

[This must feel like when hackers shoot through walls and snipe you from the sky in FPS games.]

The chat boiled over, turning into a cauldron of speculation.

Nobody could have guessed that the object could be stolen with a throwable weapon.

Sure, there had been high-profile object steals in the professional scene before.

But those were with conventional weapons—things like high-damage bows for ranged steals.

No one had used something like a low-damage throwable weapon, especially one as absurdly impractical as this.

Even a critical-hit-enhanced dagger couldn’t compare to the damage output of a bow. And yet…

“Throwable weapons don’t even have aim assist.”

Lotus—Eunha—pinpointed the key detail of the play in a daze.

Throwable weapons relied entirely on raw instinct, requiring more physical skill than almost any other weapon in the game.

Yet their payoff rarely matched the effort.

Realizing this, she felt a chill run down her spine.

While clinging to a wall in an unstable position, Friede had targeted a distant object, a nearly impossible target for a throwable weapon, and without any system assistance, landed a perfect, critical hit to secure the last blow.

“What the… Who is this person?”

She’s insanely good.

Eunha had heard rumors about Friede, but she’d thought of her as just another skilled player.

As a female gamer who had fought her way to the top despite the stigma of being labeled a “proxy player,” Eunha had always relied on her own skills to overcome the prejudice.

She’d assumed Friede had done the same.

But now, watching this play, she couldn’t dismiss Friede as merely skilled.

How much focus and reflexes would it take to pull off a move like that? This was art.

‘Is she going to win the free-for-all tournament and end up facing me one-on-one?’

Or worse…

‘What if I lose to her?’

Until now, Eunha had always felt confident, no matter who she faced—even when going head-to-head with Wardyn-Kim Chan Hyuk.

But watching Friede, her confidence wavered for the first time.

As a fellow female gamer, she no longer felt solidarity but an awakened sense of danger.

***

Meanwhile, the game continued at a rapid pace.

Unable to find any trace of Friede, the three players gave up and moved on to hunt the next major object.

Lingering here any longer would only hurt their team, already stretched thin from overcommitting resources.

Their frustration and anger were evident, but they had no choice but to swallow it down and press on.

If Friede had used furniture or columns in the maze to hide, there wasn’t much they could do but accept it and vow to be more thorough next time.

As they approached the next object, their mood shifted.

[damduk: Oh! Looks like we’re in luck.]

[Sun Flicking: Yeah, this guy spawned here.]

[Sword Defense Aura: If we get this, we can make up for some of the damage so far.]

[Sun Flicking: Let’s hurry up and take it down. GG!]

The sight of the object ahead turned their despair into excitement, filling the chat with cheers and whistles.

A grotesque fusion of a saintly priest’s upper body with the lower body of a worm, this was Soul Warfare’s flagship object.

Securing it granted top-tier effects in the current meta, and its appearance instantly erased any memory of their earlier loss.

[Sword Defense Aura: I’ll keep watch and provide cover. Take that thing down quickly.]

Fearful that Friede might snipe the last hit again, one player took on both guarding and scouting duties while the others focused on the hunt.

The boss wielded a staff forged of fire and darkness, its swings corrupting and incinerating everything in the vicinity.

Meanwhile, a rain of arrows poured from above, and the boss’s massive body teleported with startling agility, throwing the players into chaos.

This encounter, an arranged version of the boss from the story mode, was truly brutal.

Taking only light actions to fend off enemies with auxiliary equipment, Sword Defense Aura focused all his energy on tracking any signs of Friede.

It was exhausting—possibly the most draining moment in his recent ranked games.

The object’s health bar steadily dwindled, heightening everyone’s tension.

Instinctively, they all knew—no one would pass up a target like this.

‘Come on, show yourself!’

This time, Sword Defense Aura was determined to stop her.

With his massive tower shield, he resolved to throw himself in her path the moment he spotted her.

[Sun Flicking: Let’s go, team!]

With a loud and exaggerated shout, Sun Flicking signaled the group was entering the final stretch.

The three players tightened their focus, ready for anything.

Even those actively fighting the boss—Sun Flicking and damduk—remained on high alert.

And then…

***

—Whoosh!

[Sun Flicking: Huh?]

Because he was positioned closest to the boss, Sun Flicking felt a faint streak of wind graze his cheek.

—Screeeeech!

The boss let out a bone-chilling, agonized scream that echoed through the battlefield.

[Sword Defense Aura: Ah… no way…]

Behind them, Sword Defense Aura stood frozen in despair.

Despite swearing on his life to stay vigilant, he had failed to detect Friede’s presence.

The sense of helplessness consumed him.

When the system notification confirmed that Friede had once again stolen the object, not just the three of them, but even their other teammates began to spiral into chaos.

This wasn’t just unlucky—this was infuriating.

As high-tier players, they were used to intense competition, but this? This was too much.

[Sun Flicking: Damn it!]

Even the strongest dam eventually breaks with enough cracks.

[Sun Flicking: sword room, what the hell were you doing? How could you let this one slip too?]

[Sword Defense Aura: What? Am I the only one watching for the enemy? You could’ve helped keep an eye out! And why was the boss kill so slow? You guys took forever, giving Friede time to steal it.]

[Sun Flicking: Seriously, act like the Grandmaster you are instead of playing like a low-tier scrub.]

[Sword Defense Aura: Says the guy who plays like a Bronze boosting client. You’ve got some nerve blaming me when your boss kill was trash.]

What started as frustration quickly devolved into a heated argument—classic infighting in ranked team games.

From Friede’s perspective, it was hilarious.

Even though she couldn’t see the enemy team chat, their expressions and gestures told her everything.

Her viewers, equally entertained, filled the stream chat with commentary:

[Do you know why their gameplay is such a disaster?]

[Because they keep screwing up like amateurs in critical moments.]

[They’ve got high tiers but can’t see what’s right in front of them.]

[Getting owned by either bow or dagger steals, but they’re too clueless to adapt.]

[Stop fighting, you’ll all die.]

[Lol, these clowns are spitting unintentional rhymes now.]

[This? Teamwork? Really?]

[Aren’t we all supposed to be “allies”?]

[Now they remember teamwork? Hilarious.]

The chat’s unity and humor caught even Friede off guard.

***

Reluctantly, damduk stepped in to mediate, forcing the others to bottle up their frustrations and move forward.

But the cracks had already formed.

From that point on, the three failed to secure any more objects.

Their infighting worsened until damduk, unable to bear it, abruptly abandoned the match.

Friede’s stream continued as usual.

Her antics as the ever-elusive ninja-warrior, a trope almost too ridiculous to take seriously, entertained her audience.

But for Eunha, it was a wake-up call.

Without watching Friede’s stream to the end, she immediately logged into virtual reality.

Her goal was clear: Soul Warfare ranked games.

Her instincts told her she was facing something extraordinary.

‘Strong.’

Friede wasn’t just another skilled player.

She was something far beyond that, and Eunha knew she had to sharpen her dulled senses after a brief offseason.

The upcoming free-for-all tournament was organized by Eunha’s team, and she couldn’t afford to embarrass herself with a careless loss.

If anyone could stop this monstrous amateur, it had to be her.

Eunha clenched her fists, fully prepared for the grueling effort ahead.

“I need to train harder than ever,” she whispered to herself, steeling her resolve.