Chapter 120

CHAPTER 120

Director Oh Jihye of the Surface Research & Development Center was watching the screen intently.

On the monitor in front of her, Seo-jun's gameplay could be seen as he sat inside a top-tier capsule several meters away.

The monitor beside it displayed his physical responses in real time.

The same data was collected whenever Seo-jun played games using the capsule in his home and was automatically sent to her.

"Of course it is."

Normally, Surface could immediately detect if a user exhibited any abnormal physical reactions.

They also collected data from users who consented to help develop safer capsules.

However, there was one person who hadn't really been given a choice and had simply been told to hand over his data.

That person was Seo-jun.

Of course, Jihye didn't actually need to inspect his data personally.

"If even the slightest problem appeared, the system would notify me on its own."

Even so, she reviewed Seo-jun's data every day.

Safety was only a secondary concern.

The primary reason was simple curiosity.

"He's fascinating."

The test Seo-jun was currently undergoing was a program called the Combat Simulator.

Created by none other than Jihye herself.

At that moment, Seo-jun was surrounded by virtual enemies and fighting them.

The purpose of the program was to observe the physical responses that emerged in the countless situations that could occur during combat.

Many virtual reality games featured combat that required players to move their bodies directly.

If that was the case, wouldn't it be more efficient to simply create combat scenarios and observe their reactions directly rather than making them perform unrelated exercises?

That idea had led to the simulator's creation.

And right now, she couldn't help being impressed.

"There it is again. Top-tier."

The other results weren't bad.

Dozens of physical measurements remained within acceptable ranges.

The various brainwave readings were also quite good considering his synchronization rate.

But one statistic stood apart.

The in-game reaction speed between perceiving an attack and countering it.

[Reaction Speed: Highest]

This was a value that should only appear when someone with reflexes in the top 0.01% of humanity also possessed a synchronization rate high enough to transmit those reflexes into virtual reality without loss.

A result that should have been impossible for Seo-jun, whose synchronization rate was low.

The benchmark had been designed so that "Highest" would only appear if a player reacted faster than the fastest recorded response of someone with a low synchronization rate.

Physically impossible.

And yet—

It had appeared.

"Let's just do one final check to see if everything's working properly."

Jihye tapped on the keyboard and disabled the simulator's combat patterns.

The simulator normally operated according to specific patterns.

Those patterns served one purpose:

To generate countless complex combat situations while still creating battles that players could reasonably react to.

Jihye turned the patterns off.

The moment combat became randomized, the situation descended into chaos.

Naturally.

Every possible attack began appearing without context or structure.

Not particularly difficult.

Not particularly easy.

Just disorder.

Under normal circumstances, it would become difficult to accurately measure reactions.

But with Seo-jun, this was the only way to see the truth.

After shutting down the program, Jihye waited for him to emerge while reviewing the final results.

[Reaction Speed: High]

This was Seo-jun's true reaction speed.

Even this result was nearly impossible considering his synchronization rate.

It proved that Seo-jun utilized his body with extreme efficiency.

It also implied that his real-world physical abilities were exceptional.

Then what about that earlier "Highest" rating?

Seo-jun stepped out of the capsule.

Jihye spoke.

"Good work today. No abnormalities in your condition, and I lost again. You know that, right? You won."

"I couldn't exactly miss it."

Because he had figured out the pattern.

In other words, Seo-jun hadn't been reacting after seeing the attacks.

He had moved beforehand, allowing him to achieve the "Highest" rating.

Well, the patterns do have intent behind them.

But still.

How many possible combinations existed?

And he was predicting the next attack?

Even Jihye herself only designed the formulas. She left the actual calculations to the machine because she couldn't predict the results.

And yet he was predicting them?

It was impossible not to be amazed.

"Now I have to update the patterns again! I'll need to add more variables. Far more variables!"

This was a small ongoing competition between Seo-jun and Jihye.

To date, nobody besides Seo-jun had ever predicted the next attack, so updates weren't actually necessary.

Yet Jihye kept improving the system every time.

She was surprisingly competitive.

And Seo-jun wasn't the type to go easy on anyone.

"Director, there aren't any other issues, right?"

"No."

Jihye answered.

As mentioned before, she didn't examine his data every day because of safety concerns.

By analyzing the brainwave data during gameplay, she could determine whether he had predicted an attack or reacted to it.

That was what fascinated her.

A level of prediction so close to precognition that only Seo-jun could demonstrate it.

In the past, knowing he possessed such talent, Jihye had hoped he would return to this world.

The problem had been the cost.

He had compensation money and seemed financially comfortable, but...

Being able to buy something and actually choosing to buy it were two entirely different matters.

So she had dangled bait.

And she had been certain of one thing.

Once he returned, he wouldn't want to leave.

Her prediction had been correct.

Thinking back, she felt quite satisfied that she had pushed him into it.

"Oh, Seo-jun. The announcement for LoS participation applications should be posted today."

That was the real reason she had asked him to come.

"So it's today."

"Yep. And with your current viewer count, you'll definitely get in. Congratulations."

Jihye happened to know people involved with LoS.

If Seo-jun avoided causing any major incidents during his streams, she had even planned to personally recommend him later.

If she told them about his past achievements, they would certainly be interested.

But now he had already become successful as a streamer, making such intervention unnecessary.

"Thank you."

"Still, winning won't be easy. It's a team game."

"I know. I've done it before."

"Exactly. That's why I'll give you one piece of advice. Hide your abilities as much as possible until the teams are formed."

"Huh? Why?"

Seo-jun looked genuinely curious.

"In LoS, team captains build their teams through an auction system. But the chances of you becoming a captain are pretty low."

"Yeah."

Captains were generally chosen from veteran streamers with long careers, strong recognition among other streamers, and plenty of established relationships.

Compared to them, Seo-jun was a newcomer.

It wasn't a major issue, but from the organizers' perspective, making Seo-jun a captain would be an option they'd avoid unless they had no alternative.

"Which means you'll probably end up as one of the auctioned players. Back in the day, those players worked incredibly hard to advertise themselves and drive up their value."

"It's nice to be recognized."

"It is. But everyone realized after the very first tournament that being sold for too high a price came with a serious problem."

The more expensive a player was, the fewer points the team captain had left to bid on other teammates.

"So the more valuable I am, the less likely it becomes that other high-value players end up on my team?"

"Exactly. That's why everyone tries to downplay themselves as much as possible. If you hide even a little of your ability, you'll probably gain a huge advantage."

Though if she thought about it, Seo-jun probably wouldn't care much anyway.

Then Seo-jun responded.

Jihye let out a disbelieving laugh.

"I see. Then I should be fine. I'm already in the habit of only revealing thirty percent of my power."

"I don't think that's true at all. Oh, and when are you planning to reveal that you used to play this game? I'm curious."

"Come on, it's not like I was that famous. Besides, if we're being technical, it was still the early days back then."

"I think more people know than you realize. A lot more."

"No way."

After finishing his preparations to stream, Seo-jun was about to press the Start Streaming button.

Then he suddenly pressed Back instead.

The destination he entered afterward was Travel.

More specifically—

The The League category.

- 1.185 million viewers

Over one million viewers.

In terms of television ratings, that was roughly 4%.

In other words, a single category on a streaming platform was matching the ratings of top-tier variety shows.

A perfect example of just how influential it was.

Naturally, countless streamers flocked there.

They said there were over ten thousand streamers in this category alone, right?

And that wasn't all.

Major corporate-backed streamers often broadcast simultaneously here.

Mid-sized streamers packed the category at all times as well.

That was the ecosystem.

The more viewers there were, the more streamers gathered.

A fiercely competitive ecosystem.

And now—

Seo-jun was finally stepping into it.

After setting his broadcast category, he pressed the start button.

[Starting stream]

• Seo-ha
• Has the host arrived?
• New game today?
• Wonder what kind of trolling he'll show this time LOL
• Go wreck things again, newbie
• If he gets support he'll probably steal all the minions himself LOL

Viewers with lightning-fast reflexes clicked the notification the moment it appeared and immediately flooded the chat with greetings.

"Hello, everyone. Nice to see you. Yep, today we're playing The League."

• Bet he won't even know where he's supposed to go and will abandon his lane

Spoiler-filled comments appeared.

But this time, he wasn't actually a newbie.

So Seo-jun replied:

"Everyone, I studied. I even already picked my nickname."

He launched The League.

• Seriously curious what he chose LOL
• This isn't right!
• Why do you keep deciding important things by yourself?
• A real streamer would spin a roulette wheel for it
• Heavenly Demon, right? Heavenly Demon, right? Heavenly Demon, right?

This time, he had genuinely planned to consult his viewers about his nickname.

After all, choosing a nickname was one of life's greatest challenges.

When else would collective intelligence be more useful?

But yesterday, Han Jimin had contacted him while checking emails.

Apparently, someone had purchased a nickname specifically to give to Seo-jun.

I think she said they paid a million won for it.

Feeling grateful, Seo-jun checked it out.

He liked the nickname immediately, contacted the person, and entered the game.

The method for acquiring a nickname was simple.

The current owner changed to another nickname.

At that exact moment, someone else created an account using the now-vacant name.

That was how he obtained it.

And the nickname was—

• That's a rare nickname...
• Damn! Sword God!
• You bought it?
• How much do names like that cost? LOL
• So you've finally betrayed the Orthodox Faction, you traitor!

[Sword God]

Seo-jun immediately corrected them.

Not about betraying the Demonic Cult, of course.

"Actually, I didn't buy it. Thankfully, one of my viewers gifted it to me, so I decided to use this. Thank you again to the person who gave it to me."

• Is he going swordsman again?
• Ah...
• Demonic Cult fans, he won the championship and you still couldn't gift him the nickname Heavenly Demon?
• You should reflect on yourselves
• So this means he's using swords again this game too LOL

It wasn't as though he planned to play only sword-wielding characters.

Still, since he was returning after such a long time, he had already decided to start with a character he used to play.

"Alright then, let's get started. I studied the tutorial, so I won't need it. Seriously."

The character was ready.

• If you're using that nickname, you're not allowed to play a mage. Understood?
• Naturally.
• He's skipping everything without mercy LOL
• People like this are why tutorials should be mandatory
• Come on, he probably did the tutorial while creating his account yesterday!
• You trust the host?
• LOL If he read instructions properly, would he even be technologically challenged?

Meanwhile.

A post appeared on the largest The League community forum on Adventure.

[Troll ON]

[Who is this guy and why are 20,000 people watching him? I've never seen him before.]

"I told you I really don't need the tutorial..."