Stalkerizing

Ah, just a little more… No, forget it. Not like I’ll hear anything good.

Even though he had been momentarily distracted by appearances, Sa-yoon hadn’t forgotten basic social etiquette. If he were someone who didn’t care about looks, he would’ve just worn the default gear without tweaking any of the details.

His hand, which had been hovering over the keyboard for a while, eventually opened the options menu. With practiced ease, he navigated to the appropriate tab and found the setting he was looking for.

[□ Disable Other Characters]

It was an option primarily used during large-scale battles, like sieges, to reduce lag. Without hesitation, he checked the empty box and applied the setting.

The peacock that had been assaulting his eyes vanished, leaving behind only a floating name tag.

Finally, Sa-yoon felt a sense of relief, like the famous meme of someone taking stomach medicine. Of course, just because he couldn’t see it didn’t mean Schrödinger’s peacock wasn’t still there.

Not that he cared. Once they were done with Medusa, he’d never have to see them again anyway. With that thought, he turned his attention to the approaching Naga.

In most RPGs, monsters were typically fixed to specific locations. However, there were exceptions—monsters that wandered instead of staying put. These were called roamers.

“Huh?”

Did he see that right?

He quickly scrolled the wheel to zoom in as much as possible. A red symbol flickered briefly above the roamer’s head before disappearing.

[Party] Chasa: It’s a Siren.

[Party] a10235044: Yeah.

So that’s why they hadn’t cleared the area and were just waiting.

Sirens were monsters that, upon being attacked, let out a piercing scream to call in nearby allies. Their signature trait? Summoning every monster in the room. The ultimate social butterfly of the monster world.

Clicking on the sluggishly moving Siren caused a change on the minimap. The usual red dot indicating an aggressive monster now had a yellow outline. This visualized the range in which the monster would detect a player.

If any other monsters were within this range, they would aggro together, making precise distance calculation crucial. However, the stone chamber was too cramped—no matter what he did, the Siren’s range overlapped with the other Nagas.

“Of all things, why does the roamer have to be a Siren?”

Sirens appeared randomly in all dungeons. If luck was on your side, you might not encounter one at all. Right now… it was the worst-case scenario.

Must be because he was grouped with that rude player. Sa-yoon glanced at his party members. Of course, since he had turned them invisible, all he could see were their floating name tags.

[Party] Chasa: I’ll mark the targets.

[Party] a10235044: 00

He placed a hunt order marker over the roamer’s head.

The Naga slithering closer now had a glowing yellow number 1 over its head, briefly overlapping with the red warning symbol before fading out.

He quickly tagged the rightmost front-line Naga as number 2 and the leftmost one as number 3. Then, he hesitated for a moment.

[Party] Chasa: I think all three are going to aggro.

The second row could be cleared by taking out just one side, but in the first row, dealing with the Siren meant having to eliminate two monsters at once.

Should he play it safe, take out the front two first, and then deal with the Siren later?

That would mean waiting for the approaching Siren to leave before attacking, then idly waiting for it to return—a tedious and inefficient process.

As someone from a country with the dialing code 82, Sa-yoon had a deeply ingrained obsession with maximizing efficiency in dungeons. He didn’t like that plan one bit.

That left only one option—taking down all three at once. Could they pull it off?

A monster’s low HP was only considered “low” by veteran players’ standards. Since this was a dungeon designed for three people, and they only had two, each of them had to handle more than their share.

On top of that, they weren’t running a balanced party. No tank, no healer—just two DPS. A single mistake meant a wipe, and every death was a costly setback. Naturally, caution was warranted. Sa-yoon tapped his mouse in thought.

What weapon was the guy using? Was it fully upgraded? He hadn’t expected top-tier specs from a random pick-up group, but…

“If he got this far solo, his DPS must be decent.”

Since the guy had a cash shop cosmetic applied, the weapon’s exact model was unclear. However, enhancement levels couldn’t be hidden—fully upgraded weapons emitted a distinctive rainbow glow at the tip.

“Hmm…”

Did it glow or not? Sa-yoon tried to recall past the sheer visual shock.

“Ah, fuck.”

That ridiculous, glowing chest had been so blinding that he couldn’t remember if the weapon had been glowing too.

In the end, Sa-yoon reopened the options menu and made the peacock visible again. The moment he did, he saw the two daggers at the guy’s waist gleaming with an iridescent light.

Meanwhile, the roamer had continued approaching, now completely overlapping with the Naga at five o’clock.

Now, the real question was—was this guy the kind of player who just mashed 1-2-3-4 in order, or was he an actual DPS who could rotate skills with finesse?

If he was at least close to Sa-yoon’s level, this might work.

[Party] Chasa: Can we handle three at once?

There was no point in overthinking his party member’s DPS or skill level. In situations like this, the best approach was to just ask directly.

[Party] a10235044: ㅇㅇ (yep). 

“The fuck? When did we get so chummy?”

The guy had already been speaking a little too casually, but now he’d dropped formal speech entirely. Sa-yoon wasn’t some etiquette freak, but it still irked him.

Still, the response was straightforward. Whether it was reliable, though… not so much. Players rarely admitted they couldn’t handle something—pride always got in the way.

Well, he’d find out soon enough. If things went south, he’d just use his temporary nickname as a sacrificial pawn and bail. With that in mind, Sa-yoon buffed the demon he had summoned.

[Party] a10235044: If you start the attack,

[Party] a10235044: Pull number 2 and use Vine.

Sa-yoon blinked at the unexpected suggestion.

“…He knows about that?”

Naberius’ Vine was a binding skill that completely immobilized enemies.

Most crowd control abilities in the game were broken the moment the target took damage. However, Vine didn’t just persist through damage—it also inflicted continuous DoT (damage over time). If you went by the description alone, it was one of the most broken skills in the game.

Yet, barely anyone used it.

The reason was simple—players got blinded by the flashy description, invested skill points into it, then saw its absurdly long cooldown and immediately wrote it off as garbage.

“…Does he actually know what he’s talking about?”

Judging by how he phrased it, he wasn’t just name-dropping—he understood how the skill worked.

Sa-yoon’s fingers tapped across the keyboard.

[Party] Chasa: Vine?

[Party] a10235044: You didn’t spec into Naberius?

Divine was a game with extensive skill customization, rivaling its character creation options. Leveling up—

When leveling up, players received skill points, which they could allocate however they wanted, allowing for a vast array of unique skill combinations.

At this point, the number of skills available had grown to nearly a hundred. The job forums were constantly filled with new combo research, and such depth was a big part of why Divine’s PvP remained so engaging.

[Party] a10235044: If you didn’t spec into it—

[Party] Chasa: Nah, I have it.

[Party] a10235044: ㅇㅋ (ok)

Sa-yoon quickly shut down whatever alternative strategy the temporary nickname guy was about to suggest.

His surprise wasn’t without reason—he was the only one who had actually put points into that supposedly useless skill when everyone else had written it off. Once allocated, skill points could only be reset by visiting a skill management NPC in a major city.

His reasoning for picking it was simple. In dark, gloomy settings, the vines bursting from the ground made for fantastic set pieces. He used them all the time when taking screenshots.

[Party] a10235044: Then use Naberius for #2, Kimaris for #3.

Did this guy level a warlock as his alt? But no—no veteran who went through the hell of raising a second character would willingly choose warlock. If one did exist, they were undoubtedly a masochist who found pleasure in suffering.

“…So is his main a warlock?”

That actually made more sense. He probably suffered through it, got fed up, and rage-quit to reroll a ranger or something.

Yeah, that had to be it.

Following his train of thought, Sa-yoon nodded to himself. If that were the case, it explained why temporary nickname guy knew warlock skills so well.

He must’ve been a warlock user once.

With that conclusion in mind, Sa-yoon started feeling an unexpected sense of camaraderie toward him.

[Party] a10235044: Buff me, I’ll go in.

[Party] a10235044: If you have time, drop Def-Up too.

The casual “If you have time” made Sa-yoon’s eyes narrow as he hovered over the buff skill.

What the hell did he mean by “if you have time”?

His growing sense of kinship instantly got slashed in half.

Completely oblivious to how he had just provoked Sa-yoon into doubling his combat focus, temporary nickname guy charged at the roamer as it passed through the doorway.