Chapter 184

CHAPTER 184

Senses do not reach everyone in the same way.

Even in virtual reality, where machines directly transmit the same information to the brain rather than through sensory organs that vary from person to person.

Even when looking at a single landscape, the point where one's gaze lands first will differ.

The clouds reddened by the sunset, a quiet cabin, the garden reflected on the water's surface.

Even when hearing the same note, people with perfect pitch will automatically identify it in their heads.

Otherwise, all they hear is a vague hum.

The same applies to pain.

Some people cannot even tell exactly where they were hit, while others can infer how they were struck just from the pain itself.

It is a difference in how information is interpreted.

And that method of interpretation can change.

In other words,

'It can be trained.'

The ability to distinguish musical notes mentioned earlier.

Or the ability to spot tiny details within one's field of view.

These are skills that can be acquired.

And this is not some far-off concept.

Even lifeguards at swimming pools develop and train methods for quickly spotting drowning people.

In Seojun's view, all abilities of this nature were extremely useful in virtual reality.

Wooooong!

Just like now.

• Did the streamer finally throw the game? LOLLLLL
• So he's giving up on the back targets? KKKKKKK It's over.
• No, guys. Something's weird here.
• Watch Ha Yoonho's stream.
• Huh? What is it?

The seventh wave.

A single target appeared behind him.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

While the orb cleared half of the targets in front using the optimal route and moved on to the next half,

most people would have needed to check behind them before firing.

Seojun didn't.

Because he had already identified the location through sound.

Two orbs shot forward.

Bang! Bang!

One traced an arc and continued toward the next target.

The other shot in a straight line.

Because after striking its target—

Fweeeeeee!

The orb came flying rapidly back toward Seojun.

Then it passed beside his face and vanished.

A faint sound came from behind him.

Bang!

"Can't you hear it?"

Only then did the viewers begin to realize what was happening.

• Wait, what???
• Turn on Ha Yoonho's stream right now.
• Emergency! Emergency! Super emergency!
• That bastard is hitting targets without even turning around!
• ??? What is that? Prediction??
• The streamer said he can hear them.

Of course, when he first tried it, it wasn't accurate.

The targets were in slightly different positions than what he had expected from the sounds.

But once he confirmed that they were only slightly off, all he had to do was adjust how he interpreted the information.

Even then, he couldn't be completely certain.

'That's why I called it a gamble. Luckily, it worked.'

What Seojun was doing was something anyone could accomplish with enough training.

A hundred years?

Train that hard.

Or remember a past life.

Seojun smiled inwardly as he walked.

Just because he had succeeded through the seventh wave didn't mean he could relax.

This was only the beginning.

And he only had one chance.

If he slipped up even slightly during the remaining forty waves, he would fail to reach the rankers' records.

Even so, Seojun continued forward leisurely.

"What am I doing? How could I predict something like this? I'm hearing everything."

While carrying out a streamer's duty and communicating with his viewers.

Fweeeeeee!

Targets flew in, and orbs shot out.

The flying spheres tangled together in chaotic motion.

"You know that thing everyone always talks about? You should at least be able to do this much."

• Is this actually sound play??
• Is he insane?
• Ever since the rear targets appeared, he's been clearing faster than the rankers.
• How does sound play even make sense? No ranker has ever done this.

'It's not that they couldn't. They just didn't know.'

Now that people knew it was possible, wouldn't they challenge it, research it, and eventually succeed?

This sort of thing happened often in games.

Problems everyone thought were impossible, only to be solved once someone changed their perspective slightly or found a ridiculously simple method.

Rankers could definitely train themselves to distinguish the sounds.

Some of them probably already could.

If that happened, the ranking standards would likely rise far beyond their current level.

But that wasn't Seojun's concern.

He only needed to enter the rankings this one time.

• Then... what about my money?
• Huh????
• Where's my safe investment???
• He's actually locating them through sound LOLLLLL holy shit.
• Bro LOLLLLL. The streamer is using bugs again!
• And somehow he looks cool doing it.
• Other rankers are sweating buckets with their hands in their pockets, constantly turning around, but this guy is just walking LOL.
• Look at him not even turning his head.
• So what do we do now?

"What do you mean, what do you do? Go bankrupt."

Wooooong.

Fweeeeeee!

Bang! Bang!

Busy.

Walking, detecting targets, summoning, firing—

Even while endlessly repeating the sequence, the targets gradually began piling up.

He had to fire orbs toward previously memorized locations while simultaneously imprinting the positions of newly spawned targets into his mind.

On top of that, destroyed targets produced faint but noticeable sounds that interfered with everything.

Confusion was inevitable.

"Ah, I'm concentrating. But communication can't stop. That's what it means to be a streamer!"

Even then, he continued teasing the viewers on the verge of financial ruin.

How many times had he called it a safe investment?

• Please make a mistake.
• Please.
• Come on, streamer. Sound-play bugs aren't fair.
• My assets! Where did they go?!

No, there's still hope!

The twentieth step.

The number of targets that had ultimately fallen behind and remained uncleared was—

• How many?
• No clue.
• I counted them on Ha Yoonho's stream. The streamer is behind by twelve targets right now.

One and a half cycles?

The delay seemed to be just under 1.5 seconds.

If it was around this much—

"Yeah. It'll work. Top 10."

A total of 392 targets would spawn over fifty steps.

None appeared on the final step.

Then how many targets were the rankers behind at this point?

The chat asked that question as well.

Seojun recalled the video of the ranker in tenth place that he had watched earlier.

"The person in tenth place? I think they were behind by about twelve targets too. Though if I remember correctly, they were slightly ahead of me."

• Oh LOL, photographic memory!
• Then does this mean there's actually a chance?
• Doesn't look like it. Even if the ranker is barely ahead right now, he'll get overtaken eventually.
• Then does he have to make a mistake?!

That's right.

If things had become even at this point with thirty steps still remaining, the outcome would eventually reverse.

Ever since the waves where targets started spawning behind him, Seojun had been building up targets far faster than the rankers.

Even if using two orbs meant he couldn't finish everything perfectly within one second, this was ultimately a relative comparison.

It would be easier if someone were counting everything in real time, but whatever.

This was more exciting.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Walk. Create. Destroy. Detect.

The targets continued piling up.

If someone played a ranker's video and Seojun's stream side by side, comparing them in real time, the viewers would probably despair as they watched the number of targets the ranker had failed to clear gradually catch up.

Thirty steps.

'I wonder if I've overtaken them by now?'

• By the way, was that Korean-language explanation earlier complete nonsense?
• There's a thing newbies call "visualizing sound."
• Ah, that? Damn it, now I have to study Korean literature again.
• I think we're screwed.
• So even U.S. Treasury bonds can collapse.
• Korean teacher, please look at me just once. Korean teacher, please look at me just once. Korean teacher, please look at me just once.
• Literature is hard! Literature is hard! Literature is hard! Literature is hard!

Thirty-five steps.

• It's honestly infuriating how he hasn't made a single mistake.
• Doesn't really look like he's forcing himself though.
• LOL. He's smiling and reading chat.
• Of course he's smiling. He's about to make ten million won.
• Anyone with a 1% stake in that deserves an upvote LOL.
• Here's the idiot who bet 100,000 won.

Forty steps.

• I seriously thought this one was safe, so I bet 300,000 won
• 300,000 won LOL. How many chickens is that?
• Just give up.
• Top 10 is easy.

Forty-five steps.

• It's not over yet.
• I know it. He's going to mess up here.
• Who was it that called this a safe investment? Get out here.
• Maybe there really was insider information.
• No, seriously, who would've thought sound play worked in this Trial?

The final fiftieth step.

Seojun stopped before a wall that looked over ten meters high.

"Hoooo..."

He let out a deep sigh of relief.

He had spent the entire run provoking his viewers and joking around, but there had definitely been moments when he almost made mistakes.

Of course, he hadn't.

The targets surrounding him disappeared.

There had seemed to be over thirty of them.

"It's over. Let's look at the rankings now. Ah, what was first place again? I didn't really check the rankings properly before starting."

He had seen enough footage to estimate it, though.

• This crazy bastard LOL.
• But at this point, not tenth place...
• Huh?

Meanwhile, at the same time.

Over 6,900 miles away from Korea.

Or roughly 11,000 kilometers away if one converted from the universally hated imperial system.

One of the world's three great cities.

And if one absolutely had to rank them, probably the number one city—the one that frequently appeared in videos asking people to name the capital of the United States.

New York City.

Even there, in a loft house renovated from an abandoned factory in Brooklyn, where a famous American female professional player was enjoying her vacation, news of Seojun's achievement—slightly distorted in transmission—arrived a little late.

"Noona. You're the current number one in the Trial of Id, right? Apparently someone's about to break your record."

The news came through her younger brother's friend, who was browsing community forums.

"What nonsense."

She was sprawled across her bed.

With her head resting where her feet should have been.

She slowly wriggled toward the edge of the bed.

When her neck reached the edge, she let her head hang down and looked upside down at her younger brother sitting at the computer desk.

She didn't have the energy to sit up and turn around.

Because she was on vacation!

Her blonde hair touched the floor.

That was fine.

Everyone took their shoes off indoors.

"My friend David said there's this famous Korean streamer who beat a pro in an actual match, and apparently he can beat your record using only two orbs!"

"That's bullshit."

She dismissed it without a second thought and told her brother to hurry up and go to school.

"My own brother disturbing my precious vacation."

Blood was starting to rush to her head, so she slowly wriggled back to her original position.

"I lived here first. How am I the one disturbing your vacation?"

"And who got this place for us?"

"You did, sis."

"Exactly. Got nothing to say, right?"

"Yup. But what if your record really gets broken?"

"Seriously, why worry about something so ridiculous? If someone gets into the Top 10 using only two orbs, and if that person appears in this year's history event, I'll follow them around as their servant. Whatever goal I had, I'd throw it away and help them instead."

"In front of every League player in the world? That'd be hilarious. But what if they take your first-place spot?"

"Then I'll just take it back."

"You can do that? Isn't your current record already your best?"

"Exactly. That's why it won't happen."

She had been waiting for years for Id to appear in a League event.

Id was an unaffiliated hero, which meant fully legal solo play was possible in event content.

More precisely, players could do whatever they wanted.

Of course, the same technically applied to other heroes.

But if you played them recklessly, fans of those factions would complain endlessly.

Asking why you were trolling.

There were options to target other unaffiliated heroes in events as well.

But unless it was one of her mains, she couldn't guarantee first place in the Trial.

"What if Id doesn't appear?"

For reference, Id was also her main hero.

"I really think Id will show up this time. But even if not, I've prepared for all the other heroes too."

She sounded confident, but...

There were simply too many monsters competing.

Players who had devoted themselves to mastering a single character.

"Then what if that guy gets into the Top 10 but doesn't show up in the event?"

"Then there's nothing to be done about it. But seriously, how would someone even do it with only two orbs?!"

"True enough."

"Just leave! Seriously, I don't want to hear anything about virtual reality while I'm on vacation. That's why I came here. So if you're going to keep talking nonsense, get out."

Even people who loved virtual reality needed a few weeks completely away from it sometimes.

It was better for mental health.

And better for performance.

She loved her work.

But she had no desire for her job to become her entire hobby as well.

Thus Rachel—the American Shin Hayeon (as she herself claimed)—buried herself back in bed.

Her brother didn't leave.

Ten seconds later.

He spoke again.

"Sis, your record got broken."

"What?"

"The first-place record."

"Stop talking crap—"

"Look for yourself."

Scrape.

Her brother rolled his chair aside so she could see the monitor.

Rachel once again crawled to the edge of the bed, let her head hang upside down, and looked at the screen.

[Trial of Id Rankings]

#1 - Sword God (Korea) - 360

#2 - Rachel (USA) - 356

#3 - Bernard (USA) - 344

The moment she saw the rankings, she flipped herself upright and sprang to her feet.

"What the hell is this...?"

"...Is it a bug?"