Stalkerizing

That comment made Sa-yoon check the party chat again. Had he somehow scammed them into coming into this pitfall without realizing it?

Luckily, his inner thoughts hadn’t slipped out yet. Aside from using a single consoling emote, he hadn’t done anything in particular. He had no idea what he had supposedly “accepted.”

[Whisper] Chasa: They just seem like a friendly newbie.

[Whisper] Chasa: Crying over picking a ruined character is kinda cute, lol.

Saying that in front of a real ruined character, though. They could only say something like that because they were untainted.

[Whisper] Chasa: It’s common courtesy to be nice to newbies.

[Whisper] a10235044: I haven’t been playing for long either.

Not for long? Sa-yoon chuckled to himself. “Not long” was a subjective phrase open to interpretation.

But from the way they moved, the way they dealt damage—it was obvious they were an experienced player dripping with oil.

[Party] BeginningAndEnd: Huh? Why is the hunter crying?

Since Sa-yoon didn’t respond, the temporary nickname player suddenly flopped over and started wailing. It turned into a chorus, like a lamenting official mourning the loss of their nation.

[Whisper] a10235044: Why aren’t you consoling me?

[Whisper] a10235044: You did it for the sharpshooter…

They sounded like someone demanding compensation for a deposit they had made. Their request was so natural that Sa-yoon absentmindedly patted their back.

[Party] Driver: I’ll take it slow to prepare for ambushes.

Driver’s message seemed to be a subtle reminder to focus again. With that, the party members cut off their idle chatter.

Even on the northern path to the throne, the enemy had attempted various ambushes multiple times to turn the tide of battle. And the temporary nickname player, who had essentially appointed themselves as Sa-yoon’s bodyguard, persistently followed him around, eliminating any enemies that targeted him.

Thanks to that, despite being the priority target for elimination, Chasa had never died even once.

The opposing team had failed every single ambush and had been pushed back multiple times, yet they still kept launching attacks in different ways. But against an overwhelming skill gap, even the best strategies were useless.

In the end, as the point gap widened significantly, their motivation seemed to wane. Their score stopped rising entirely. Since this battleground only ended when the king was defeated, this was essentially their way of saying, “We won’t interfere anymore, just finish the game quickly.”

Arriving at the northern throne without issue, Sa-yoon clicked on the empty seat and placed the crown upon it.

[The Fallen King Idra Khan responds to his crown and reveals himself.]

[You have gained 500 points.]

[You insolent ones who dare disturb my deathlike slumber…]

With a chilling voice, a massive skeletal monarch burst from the ground.

The king, half-buried in the earth up to his ribs, primarily attacked by slamming the ground with his enormous arms to inflict stun effects or sweeping to knock players down. These patterns were designed with the possibility of enemy interference in mind during the boss fight.

[Party] Chasa: Watch out for ambushes.

[Party] a10235044: Be cautious of interference.

Sa-yoon glanced at the score displayed in the upper-right corner as he typed, and at that same moment, the temporary nickname player sent a message.

The score was already stable enough to make a comeback nearly impossible—but you never knew. If the enemy launched an ambush while they were defenseless in the middle of the boss fight, they could be wiped out in an instant.

Some players played dirty, not caring about winning or losing—only about harassing their opponents to the bitter end.

Fortunately, no ambush came. The only minor mishap was the spearman failing to dodge three consecutive AoE attacks at the end and dying. But as the skeletal king shattered into pieces, the victory message appeared.

[Victory!]

[You have earned 2 battlefield points. Your ranking has increased.]

Only 2 points? Was the reward always this bad when you got matched in lower brackets?

A single battleground match could take anywhere from 10 minutes at the fastest to 30 minutes at the longest. In this particular match, combat had been constant up until the mid-game.

Despite dealing damage until his fingers nearly broke, the reward was absurdly low.

[Party] Driver: Good work, everyone!

[Party] liiiiiiiiiil: Nice job, everyone!

[Party] BeginningAndEnd: GG!!

While Sa-yoon was still dazed from the disappointing points, the lively party exchanged farewells before going their separate ways. The moment he clicked the confirmation button, the screen changed, kicking him back to the lobby.

[‘a10235044’ has invited you to a party. Accept?]

He didn’t even have time to wonder what to do next. A party invite from the temporary nickname player had arrived.

[Party] Chasa: That was a nice carry.

[Party] a10235044: Carry, my ass, lol.

[Party] a10235044: I just got 150 points from that match.

Do lower-ranked players always get that much? Since he always grinded from the start of the season, he hadn’t realized they handed out points this generously.

Maybe next time, he should start a bit later?

But realistically, he knew that in the next season, he’d just end up running battlegrounds early on again because he wouldn’t be able to enter dungeons anyway.

[Party] Chasa: Congrats big boss.

[Party] a10235044: One more match?

[Party] a10235044: Bro, how many points did you get?

“……”

Sa-yoon hesitated.

Honestly, what he had just earned couldn’t even be considered “points.”

Typically, in this rank range, winning granted around 20 points, while losing cost about 15. If you lost in a bracket lower than your own, it was obvious you’d lose even more.

This wasn’t even a high-risk, high-reward situation. Duoing with this temporary nickname player meant he had little to gain and a lot to lose. Logically speaking, it was a completely pointless party.

[Party] Chasa: 17 points.

But Sa-yoon lied without hesitation.

Did everything in life have to be calculated so coldly? It’s not like he had anywhere else to go, and he wasn’t planning to play that much anyway. At most, he’d do another couple of matches.

Besides, it had been a while since he played with someone who felt like an actual teammate. It was kind of fun.

One by one, he stacked up justifications in his head.

[Party] a10235044: That’s not too bad, actually.

[Party] a10235044: Bro, one more?

[Party] Chasa: But…

[Party] Chasa: Why are you suddenly calling me ‘bro’?

[Party] Chasa: What if I’m, like, fifteen?

Of course, he was joking.

It was obvious the sharpshooter had been acting friendlier, so this guy was trying to one-up them and get closer.

Blatantly pulling this kind of move made it even funnier. Sa-yoon smirked, wondering how they’d respond.

[Party] a10235044: You didn’t say anything when the sharpshooter called you that…

[Party] a10235044: I always call people ‘bro’ when they’re good.

[Party] Chasa: Lol, I was just messing with you. Call me whatever you want.

They had tried to act all hesitant, but now they were already back to being shameless. The more he saw them, the funnier they got.

[Party] a10235044: But you’re not actually fifteen, right?

[Party] Chasa: ㅠㅠ Nah, I’m actually fourteen.

[Party] a10235044: Uh…

[Party] a10235044: Stop lying.

[Party] Chasa: Lol, how old do I seem?

The chat, which had been flowing seamlessly, suddenly stopped.

Then, after a brief pause, the temporary nickname player finally responded.

[Party] a10235044: Twenty?

The fact that they had seriously thought about it and landed on “twenty” was adorable. Right, at that age, even twenty-year-olds seemed like full-grown adults.

[Party] Chasa: I’m older than twenty.

[Party] a10235044: Then you really are ‘hyung’!

The temporary nickname player immediately accepted it without hesitation. Sa-yoon had only been half-joking, but now he was starting to think they really were a student. Middle school? High school?

[Party] a10235044: Hyung, you can talk casually with me.

[Party] Chasa: Sure, I’ll do it gradually.

Floating numbers hovered around Chasa. Just like before, everything about their behavior screamed ‘kid.’

[Party] a10235044: So, hyung.

[Party] a10235044: Wanna do another King Hunt?

Oh, right. King Hunt.

For a moment, the measly 2-point reward flashed through his mind, but hey—dust gathers to make a mountain, right? As long as they won, it’d add up. Besides, he had nothing else to do anyway.

And so, once again, Sa-yoon went through another round of self-justification.

Just to type this:

[Party] Chasa: Let’s go.

***

[Victory!]

[You have earned 2 battlefield points.]

In the second match, they ended up facing the Guardian from their previous team as an enemy—and won.

For a brief moment, he thought about Driver’s patient guidance and how their hard-earned rank must have dropped. But the guilt didn’t last long.

“Wow, this is kinda…”

…fun.

Since when were 6v6 battlegrounds this smooth?

Everyone cooperated when suggestions were made, and each player did their part flawlessly without any weak links.

It made Sa-yoon reflect—had his team matchmaking luck just been absolute garbage this whole time?

[Whisper] a10235044: Hyung, one more?

[Whisper] Chasa: Let’s go.

His coordination with the temporary nickname player was especially seamless.

So much so that he wondered if their brainwaves had somehow synchronized.

Playing with someone like this was ridiculously comfortable.

Thinking that, his fingers moved on their own, instinctively hammering out the same consonants again.

And then, in the third match… something strange happened.