I Became a Genius Swordsman in the Pretty Girl Game

The unknown, with no information whatsoever.

Utopia, shackled hand and foot, successfully repelled the relentless wave of Rage Howlers without anyone getting hurt.

Having endured such a grueling battle, Utopia sought a base for rest.

They followed the light emitted by Shin Se-hee.

They arrived at a dead-end space, a cube approximately 10 meters wide and tall, with walls enclosing three sides except for the entrance they came through.

It was just the right size—a space where the seven members of Utopia could lie down comfortably, with enough safety to block any sudden attack from a single direction.

Thud.

Lee Yoo-ri and Ichika lit a fire in the center, and Kang Do-hee and Alice quickly finished setting up tents. It was time for everyone to eat their simple packed meals.

Chew, chew.

The party’s atmosphere was awkward.

Just before the Rage Howler wave ended, Kang Do-hee and Shin Se-hee exchanged sharp words. While the exact details were unclear, Kang Do-hee’s repeated cursing at the air indicated a serious emotional clash.

Sizzle, sizzle.

“Shin Se-hee, I’ve set up the noise-canceling barrier and sprayed the monster repellent.”

“…Thank you, Jin Yuha.”

Shin Se-hee’s voice, coming through the jewel communicator, was steeped in gloom. She probably couldn’t understand why things had come to this.

Crackle, crackle.

Looking back, the party members were huddled awkwardly around the fire, knees drawn to their chests. Kang Do-hee, unable to contain her emotions, leaned against the wall, rubbing her head with a displeased expression.

Everyone remained silent, their faces filled with discomfort.

“Wow… the party atmosphere is spectacular. Hmm, should I leave this to Soup and focus on Shin Se-hee?”

“Soup.”

“…Huh? Me? Did you call me?”

“Yeah, I’m going out to scout nearby. Can you watch over the party for a bit?”

“Scouting? Then I’ll come with—”

When Lee Yoo-ri tried to stand up quickly, I shook my head to stop her.

“No.”

I subtly nodded toward the jewel communicator, and Lee Yoo-ri seemed to understand.

“Take care of the party while I’m gone.”

When I glanced at Kang Do-hee, Lee Yoo-ri hesitated before nodding with a resigned expression.

“Ah… Okay, got it. Be careful.”

Leaving behind the awkward waves of the party members, I stepped out of the shelter alone.

Shin Se-hee must have realized I had something to say, as the jewel floated after me, bouncing lightly.

How far did we walk?

“…Jin Yuha.”

Shin Se-hee’s low, trembling voice broke the silence. I could almost picture her—hands covering her face, shoulders slumped in self-reproach.

“…You trusted me… but I couldn’t handle it after all.”

“Huh? Failure? What do you mean? Didn’t we do fine today? No one got hurt, and we cleared it safely.”

“But the party members were dissatisfied with my leadership. Today was just a regular gate, so we managed, but if it had been a Demon Realm Gate… we would’ve surely failed.”

Shin Se-hee’s voice quivered as though she were biting down on her frustration.

She must have been frustrated. From her perspective, she likely believed her leadership mirrored mine and that the results weren’t bad. But the party’s mood suggested otherwise, leaving her confused and unable to accept the disparity.

“Well, I still think you’re the one who should lead our party.”

I looked directly at the jewel and spoke up.

“No one else in our party can execute my leadership like you can.”

“….”

“Lee Yoo-ri? She’s not bad, but as a tank, her role is to absorb attacks at the forefront. It’s tough for her to keep an eye on everything behind her.”

“Kang Do-hee? All she knows is how to charge forward recklessly.”

“Senior Ga-eul, Sophia, and Alice lack the ability to view the overall situation.”

“And Ichika? Her judgment isn’t bad, but as you know, her communication skills are lacking.”

I explained, folding my fingers as I spoke.

“So, you’re the only one in our party who can take over the reins of leadership from me.”

“But! Everyone seemed dissatisfied with my leadership. It wasn’t just Kang Do-hee who voiced it. Even the others—”

Lee Yoo-ri, Lim Ga-eul, Sophia, Ichika, and even Alice had expressed dissatisfaction in subtle ways—sighing, stiffening their faces, or other small gestures.

I had seen it all.

And I knew exactly why it had happened.

‘I’ve seen this type before.’

Not in this real-world scenario but in Velvets, the game.

There were players in Velvets who were just like Shin Se-hee.

It’s as if she manipulates the party like she’s writing code.
A plan meticulously crafted from the start, executed with precision within its framework—an analytical type.

If everything goes according to plan, whether it’s PVP or PVE gate raids, she believes in achieving a perfect clear every time.

But the outcomes are often less stellar than expected.

Why? There’s that famous quote from a renowned boxer:

‘Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.’

No matter how delicately one controls things in Velvets, events don’t unfold with clockwork perfection.

It’s a game of probability.

When a character is in top condition, every attack lands as a critical hit, single-handedly overturning the game and achieving extraordinary highs.
But when in poor condition, even ridiculous attacks will hit, turning the character into a pathetic fool.

Every time this happened, the players—outraged—would scream into the community: “This trash game! The AI is garbage!!”
And yet, no one paid them any attention.

‘How could you possibly fit randomness into a rigid framework?’

But the difference between those planning villains and Shin Se-hee is:

‘She actually makes it work.’

Whether this is a blessing or a curse, I can’t say.

Shin Se-hee has a talent.
The ability to make those plausible plans work plausibly.

Amid changing situations, she’s able to pull out the right pre-arranged manual and apply it instantly.
That’s likely why, even when the party didn’t follow her lead willingly, she still managed to guide them to a perfect clear without any injuries.

‘Is this a case of her intellect being so extraordinary that it causes misfortune? Or is it even fair to call it misfortune?’

From her perspective, she probably thinks she commanded no differently than I would.
She likely believes the results weren’t bad either.

Yet the atmosphere turned out like this.

This is why Shin Se-hee can’t accept the current situation.
She feels like she handed in a perfect 100-point test, but instead of receiving recognition, the party threw the paper aside.

Kang Do-hee may have been the one to lash out, but the one truly angry is Shin Se-hee herself.

‘No matter what I say right now, she probably won’t take it to heart.’

So first, I need to make her understand her role.

“Shin Se-hee.”

“…Yes?”

“You’re thinking that it might be better if I kept the leadership role, aren’t you?”

“….”

She didn’t answer, but her silence was confirmation.

“Do you remember why I said I’d hand over Utopia’s leadership to you, even though I was doing a decent job of leading?”

“…You said it was because you couldn’t perform at your best while managing the leadership.”

“That’s right. If I’m leading, there’s significant damage to my combat output. But you still haven’t seen my full potential, have you?”

After all, that technique has only been shown in front of the Sword Emperor.

“…That’s true.”

By now, we’d walked quite a distance from the shelter.

Ahead lay a large cavern.
Roughly 500 Rage Howlers were detected inside.
Were they preparing for something?

“Hmm, Lina’s custom restraints are performing well.”

Normally, I’d be able to detect exact numbers and locations, but the restraints on my power limited me.

If I attack those Rage Howlers now, some will start calling for reinforcements, drawing in others from elsewhere.
Soon enough, the horde will descend in a frenzy.

“Originally, this was tomorrow’s hunting ground for the party.”

But there’s no harm in me taking a preemptive shot.
Rage Howlers breed so rapidly that no matter how many you kill, their numbers never dwindle.

“Let me show you why I entrusted you with leadership.”

Clap!

Walking up to the cavern entrance, I clapped my hands.

Screech!

A lone Rage Howler standing guard yelped in surprise.

“J-Jin Yuha!? What are you doing—!? N-no! You’re wearing the mana-restraining cuffs—”

“Just watch.”

I cut off Shin Se-hee’s frantic protests and awakened a state of selflessness.

“This is what I can do when I’m not the one leading.”