Assistant Manager Kim.
Real name: Kim Seok-hwan.
Just minutes ago, he had been dreaming of a rosy future.
Now, as he collapsed, bleeding rosy red, he was struck by a surreal sense of disbelief.
And who could blame him?
His opponent was an ordinary woman.
“She only had one match on her record…”
It wasn’t that he assumed women were inherently bad at games.
But Battle of the Oracle, or “BaORe” as it was known, was a game far more tailored to male players.
A game that demanded intense, full-body movement—it wasn’t easy for a woman to outperform a man in such a genre.
To top it off, Yoo Seo-ah had only created her BaORe account less than a week ago.
A complete newbie.
Against Kim Seok-hwan, a Diamond-tier player.
She shouldn’t have even been a challenge.
And yet…
[TrialAccount01 (Rogue) vs. HatePolishedArmor (Knight)]
Not just one loss—he lost three matches in a row.
The last one?
A Priest mirror match.
“She was a complete spoon-fed killer…”
He got beaten up by someone who barely knew how to use her skills and just kept throwing out basic attacks.
If that wasn’t humiliating, what was?
“Mr. Kim,” she asked, “maybe you weren’t warmed up? Or… were you going easy on me?”
“N-no, I wasn’t holding back…”
“…That’s a problem in its own way.”
A chilling sensation, like facing something not quite human.
There was no way someone unfamiliar with BaORe—or an ordinary woman, for that matter—could play like this.
Her moves were always one step ahead of his.
At some point, it felt like she could read his mind.
She wasn’t just winning—she was toying with him.
Just when he was starting to wonder how someone could play like that, her calm voice echoed in his ears again, requesting a final mirror match.
“Would it be alright if we used the same class? I think it’ll make things clearer.”
Clearer?
Clearer how?
Was she trying to prove he wasn’t really Diamond tier?
But he was Diamond.
He got there through nothing but skill—no cheats, no account boosting.
“Maybe… maybe there’s something weird about Seo-ah?”
Just as that slightly unfair thought crossed his mind, Kim Seok-hwan found himself back on the battlefield of BaORe.
The sky spiraled above like a vortex.
Below it lay a valley woven from lush green forests and reddish-brown rock formations.
Sprawling lands stretched above and below the cliffs.
Then, shrines at the edges of the map began to emit beams of light, one by one.
The brilliant rays soared into the sky and converged at the map’s center, reaching a climax of brilliance.
FLASH.
A moment of blinding light, and the central temples glowed with a soft aura.
Blue team shrine, central shrine, red team shrine—as divine radiance spilled from each one, the torches flanking the map roared to life.
A straight line of fire now traced a long attack lane from left to right.
[“Your will has reached the heavens.”]
[“The Celestial Beings gaze upon you with interest…”]
As the map finished loading, the fantasy-themed system messages popped up.
They indicated that capturing a nearby shrine could transport you to the celestial terrain.
But this was a 1v1, not the standard 6v6 game mode, so that didn’t matter much now.
Instead of heading to the nearest shrine, Kim Seok-hwan’s Knight, wielding a long sword, marched straight to the center.
The knight’s armor bore rune patterns, the mark of textbook traits.
Step.
Step.
Footsteps echoed in the distance.
With the arrival of the enemy knight clad in standard white iron armor, the air on the battlefield trembled ever so slightly.
Even the faint screech of metal rubbing against metal pierced the ears like needles.
Haa…
Kim Seok-hwan’s breathing grew shallow as the memory of being overwhelmed by Yoo Seo-ah flashed in his mind.
His pupils trembled like boiling water.
Meanwhile, Seo-ah stood still, serene like a still pond, all her senses tranquil.
As if silently saying, “Come at me, if you dare.”
Eventually, it was Kim Seok-hwan who moved first.
WHOOSH.
His sword slashed diagonally, splitting the air with a powerful downward strike, momentum and strength amplified by the spring of his knees.
But Seo-ah had already tilted her waist and slipped out of its path.
“Is she seriously dodging by sight?”
Frustrated, Kim Seok-hwan spun his sword horizontally from left to right.
Then, with his body lowered in a charge, he aimed a sharp thrust at her abdomen—each move sharp and solid.
But again—Seo-ah deflected it with uncanny precision, her blade barely nudging his off course.
Feeling his strike slip away, Seok-hwan flinched and retreated.
He barely caught his breath before—WHOOSH!
Seo-ah burst forward, closing the distance in an instant.
She ducked low and swept her sword at his left knee.
With no time to block, he staggered.
His knee bent involuntarily.
SWISH!
Seo-ah’s follow-up was a sweeping slash.
As the shock hit the inside of his armor, Seok-hwan twisted and leapt backward reflexively.
As soon as he gained distance, he stabbed forward again.
A straight, air-piercing thrust.
But the moment it landed—CLANG.
His sword deflected, Seo-ah’s blade grazed his right flank.
The following sequence mirrored a known PvP finisher pattern:
Right side,
Left thigh, gap between chest armor panels—all targeted with pinpoint precision.
And finally, a powerful downward slash that cleaved the air.
Seok-hwan raised his sword in both hands to defend—but his balance was already gone.
Seo-ah’s forceful strike slammed into his right carotid artery.
CRACK!
The impact shattered the ground beneath them.
Crimson blood spurted from the point where her blade had driven in.
“…Good game, ”Seo-ah said, her tone calm as ever.
With a graceful twist, her sword traced a spiral in the air.
The Dragon Knight’s head fell cleanly from his shoulders.
“It’s not a joke, but I don’t think Seo-Ah would lose to a professional in a 1v1. Of course, the actual game would be a different story…”
After completing four rounds of 1v1 and a normal game play.
Kim, the assistant manager, who looked a bit tired, gave me some feedback.
Without exaggeration, my reaction speed is almost inhuman.
Before the opponent’s attack even begins, I’m already performing a defense or evasion action.
It seems like I know exactly where to attack the enemy to deal meaningful damage, and so on.
“Battle of Legends isn’t a game where physical ability is everything, but… Seo-Ah, you’re really good. Once you adapt to the game mechanics, you’ll easily reach Master rank.”
Kim seemed a bit enlightened as he overestimated my gaming talent.
In reality, I couldn’t find anything particularly special in his Diamond-level gameplay.
The only thing I could observe about his play style was that compared to Seo-Yeon, he was a bit more detached.
Even after an attack was blocked or missed, he didn’t get emotional and immediately prepared for the next move.
I asked him how to stay calm while playing Battle of Legends.
How could I reduce the stress?
“One of my acquaintances seems to be very passionate about Battle of Legends. I wish they could reduce emotional exhaustion a bit.”
“Well…”
After thinking for a moment, Kim, the assistant manager, shared what seemed like a universal truth.
“In the end, you get angry because the game isn’t going well. If the game goes well, there’s no reason to be angry.”
“The easiest way, I think, is to improve your skills. No matter how much you try to control your emotions, if the results are bad, your feelings will inevitably show.”
“Isn’t it possible to get used to bad results? Does the game not build tolerance?”
“By the time you get used to bad results, your mind would be a mess…”
In the end, my meeting with Kim led to a meaningful conclusion for me.
Ultimately, I get stressed because I’m bad at the game.
In other words, to avoid stress, I need to improve my gameplay.
If Kim, a Diamond player, evaluates me as a potential Master, maybe I could teach Seo-Yeon.
“She might hesitate at first… but in the long run, it might be good for her.”
To solidify my decision, I paid for the VR room.
I thought about calculating the time based on the hotel’s salary standard, but it felt like I was buying someone with money, so I dropped the idea.
After that day, I started watching Seo-Yeon’s Battle of Legends gameplay videos during my free time, observing her habits and behaviors.
Then, I compared and analyzed top-tier players’ gameplay videos.
“If you give space to a warrior, they should die! Where do you think you’re running─!”
“Her movements… they’re so straightforward. You need to mix in some feints to make the opponent fluster.”
I wrote my own feedback in a notebook and organized the advice I would give to Seo-Yeon in my mind.
Time passed, and before I knew it, the weekend had arrived.
- Beep. Beep beep. Beep.
“I’m here~.”
Having returned to my family home after a long time, I headed to Seo-Yeon’s room.
Before I tried to convince Mom about Seo-Yeon’s broadcasting, I wanted to check if Seo-Yeon was willing to hear my feedback.
- Knock knock.
“Seo-Yeon.” - Knock knock.
“…Seo-Yeon?” - Knock knock.
“Uh…” - Creak.
I was at a loss for words.
Seeing my little sister sending hearts to the monitor… was more cringe-worthy than I had expected.
I don’t understand why broadcasters who don’t even turn on their cameras are sending hearts.
“Uh, uh…. Is that you?!”
Her face looked like she had seen a ghost.
And there was the new microphone in front of her.
The microphone I had bought was being used quite well, it seemed.
By the way, a brief thank-you speech lasting less than 30 seconds, and it cost 50,000 won.
I knew about it, but the cost-effectiveness was… impressive.
Maybe Seo-Yeon was a lot more amazing than I had thought.
Clap clap clap.
“Looks like the microphone is being put to good use. Well done.”
“…!…!!”
“Still, I think getting drunk on stream is a bit… I’m worried it could be misunderstood as promoting alcohol consumption.”
At my comment or advice, Seo-Yeon’s face turned as red as a tomato.
For some reason, the chat on her monitor also started speeding up rapidly.
It seemed like a bug had occurred.