APGD 18

Chapter 18

Surrounded by a massive crowd, Rajan was practically holding an impromptu fan meeting.

Still, he managed the situation smoothly, directing the flow of people under the referee’s polite guidance.

“Since too much commotion might disrupt today’s preliminaries, I’ll sign autographs or take photos with you all during the break instead!”

Then he quickly left a notice on his phone broadcast channel:

Hello!
As I announced yesterday, today I’ll be live-streaming from the venue!
I’ll turn it on around the time the preliminaries start!
See you all in about 10 minutes!!

Since he had already left an announcement the night before, the notice was brief.

Just as Rajan slipped his phone back into his pocket—

“Hello, Rajan! I’m Han Moon-sang, the one who submitted that mission request yesterday!”

A man in his early twenties approached him politely, extending his hand for a handshake. His overall look resembled that spinach-loving, overly muscular cartoon character Rajan had seen as a child.

Rajan immediately returned the handshake with a smile and a slight bow.

“Ah, yes! Hello! You really came all the way to COEX today, huh?”

The previous night before ending his stream, Rajan had mentioned that both his client, Han Moon-sang, and “Samstealer” had said they would come watch the match live. He had been half-skeptical, but at least one of them had shown up.

“I was curious! I want to see for myself what this ‘TacticMaker’ guy is really like.”

“Hahaha! Looks like you’re pretty fired up. Well, seeing the replay yesterday, he really did play too well for just an amateur.”

“I’m telling you, he’s definitely using a booster account! I guarantee you, whatever team he’s on, they’re going to get stomped today.”

“Whoa, whoa, let’s calm down for now.”

Just then, a referee’s voice could be heard nearby.

“Hmm… is the one who hasn’t shown up yet Mr. Lee Do-su, the one using the nickname ‘TacticMaker’?”

From a team still stuck in ID verification, Rajan caught a very familiar nickname.

Han Moon-sang immediately clenched his fist.

“See that?! He must’ve seen your stream yesterday, Rajan. Looks like he bolted before getting caught boosting for someone else!”

The fans nearby began chiming in.

“Did he really run away?”
“Honestly, after how big things blew up yesterday, I figured this might happen.”
“Wow… no way. So he really was boosting?”

Rajan crossed his arms and stayed silent. On the surface, he looked calm, but inside he was starting to feel uneasy.

‘Hold on… this would be such a letdown if he doesn’t even show up.’

He hadn’t considered the possibility that the main figure wouldn’t appear at all.

‘If that happens, not only do I lose the master-content material, but the whole “justice served” content falls apart too.’

But then—

“Sorry! I just got here! I’m Lee Do-su, the one using the nickname ‘TacticMaker.’”

A tall man suddenly stepped forward.

Instantly, everyone’s attention snapped toward him.

He was clearly over 180 cm tall, with looks that could easily pass for a rising idol or young actor.

For a moment, Rajan couldn’t take his eyes off him.

‘That’s TacticMaker?’

It wasn’t an exaggeration—his appearance looked more suited to the entertainment industry than to gaming.

The crowd seemed to share the same thought, as astonished murmurs spread.

“Oh! He didn’t run away? Wait, hold on… what’s with his visuals? Is that the average face of a Vol-Boom player?”
“Wow… with a face like that, he could debut right now and overshadow most idols.”
“Isn’t he actually a celebrity? Why would someone like that even bother gaming?”
“For real. If I had that face, I’d be at a talent agency, not here. Haha!”
“Wait, wait. If he’s got those looks and crazy mechanics…? No way, that’s too broken! I’m still betting he’s a booster!”

As the murmurs grew louder, the referee quickly raised his voice.

“Please quiet down a bit!”

The final ID verification was conducted.

Meanwhile, Rajan smirked and turned to Han Moon-sang.

“Well, whatever the case, I think we’re going to get our answer today.”

His instincts told him something big was coming. This Ball Trial was bound to go down as one of the most remarkable cases yet.

The offline final qualifiers were run just like the online ones: a single-elimination tournament, best-of-three.

All rounds of a stage started simultaneously.

For example, in the first round of the quarterfinals, four matches would take place, all beginning at 10:20.

Naturally, the casters couldn’t cover every match.

Only one match would be broadcast live online—usually featuring the strongest favorites or the most anticipated big matchups.

“Teams whose matches will be live-broadcast, please head to Hall H, the stage next to this G Hall, and set up there!”

Of course, even non-broadcast matches could still be watched on-site.

Spectators weren’t allowed inside the booths, but large portable TVs were set up around the area.

So, all matches not streamed live would be displayed on those screens.

“The match brackets have just been uploaded to the tournament homepage. If you can’t check on your phone, please check the board at the desk for the full bracket!”

Once the referee’s announcements ended, Park Yong-won used his tall height to scan the board.

The names were written in marker with terrible handwriting, but he managed to decipher them.

“Oh! Found it! Our first opponents are a team called ‘Genji in My Ear.’”

Glancing toward Hall H, Park Yong-won added,

“Still, I’d be stressed out if our match were live-broadcast. Look at this crowd already—the nerves would be brutal.”

His teammates agreed at once.

“Exactly! There are way too many spectators today. Honestly, playing in Hall H would be insane.”
“I overheard something earlier—apparently there’s a team with three Challengers. They’re probably the ones getting broadcast.”
“Oh yeah, I heard that too! Their midlaner’s been scouted by multiple pro teams, right?”
“Hey, Je-hyup, do you remember what that team was called?”
“Couldn’t hear clearly with all the noise, but it wasn’t ‘Genji in My Ear.’”
“Then we just set up here in Hall G, I guess.”

None of the teammates seemed too concerned. After all, their lineup was just one Grandmaster and four Masters—not exactly championship material.

I chuckled and spoke up last.

“If you focus too much on the audience, you’ll just freeze up. Let’s just enjoy ourselves and play relaxed. We’ve prepared hard, so I’m sure we’ll do well.”

The team smiled and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, true! First match, let’s just focus on shaking off the nerves and having fun!”
“Exactly! Like Do-su said, let’s keep it chill. Don’t worry! No matter who their top is, I’ll crush them and carry!”
“Haneul’s confidence is crazy! But botlane won’t lose either. I’ll show them what a real DPS machine looks like today!”
“Hehe. I ate well this morning and even packed enough cheeseburgers. Honestly, I’m not losing today either!”

But then—

A referee hurried over.

“Are you ‘Yong-won and Friends’? Did you check the bracket online?”

Park Yong-won stepped up.

“Yes! We just checked the board.”

“Ah… I’m sorry. The referee who wrote the board made a mistake with a team name. Could you please check the official bracket online again?”

“Oh, I see. Sure thing.”

He quickly pulled it up on his phone.

“…Right, you’re correct. Our opponent isn’t ‘Genji in My Ear’—it’s ‘Complete Annihilation.’”

At that, Kim Je-hyup shouted.

“What!? That’s exactly the name of the team I was talking about earlier!”

“Wait, hold on. That means—”

The referee cut in, pointing to the other hall.

“Yes, that’s the correct bracket. And your match will be broadcast live. Please move to the booths in Hall H for setup.”

Everyone’s eyes widened in shock.

Jung Yong-seok.

He was the midlaner of “Complete Annihilation” and a pro hopeful.

At just 18, he maintained Challenger rank 180, and had recently been flooded with offers from pro teams.

Even a team from Korea’s first division, the BCK, had scouted him, along with three teams from the second division, BCL. His form was undeniably strong.

“Guys, awesome news! Our match is being broadcast! The officials must think we’re championship contenders!”

The team leader returned from a chat with a referee, thrilled.

Yong-seok smirked.

“Of course. This team has me, after all.”

“Wow, look at him acting cocky just because he got some scout offers.”
“For real? Maybe it’s because the opponents are strong, not just us.”
“No way. I already looked them up—aside from one Grandmaster jungler, the rest are all just Masters.”
“Pfft! Four Masters? How the hell did trash like that even make it this far?”

At that, their buzz-cut teammate piped up while scrolling on his phone.

“Ohhh, wait! That’s them! The team that went viral yesterday! With that ‘TacticMaker’ guy!”

“What? Viral? What do you mean?”

“What, you guys didn’t watch Rajan’s stream yesterday? Someone requested a ‘LoL Trial’ mission about them…”

As they walked toward Hall H, buzz-cut briefly explained.

By the time they entered their booth, the teammates responded with interest.

“For real? Rajan was impressed by his mechanics?”
“Yeah. I saw the replay too. Honestly, it didn’t look amateur at all.”
“What? That can’t be right. I need to rewatch it myself later.”
“But if that was his real skill, we might be screwed. That guy looked like a monster.”

Buzz-cut snickered, but Yong-seok scowled in irritation.

“Shut up! Why are you acting like I’d lose to that clown? Even if some Master plays well, all I need to do is counterpick and it’s over.”

The others laughed while unpacking their gear.

“Exactly, Yong-seok will shut him down. No need to worry. Even if he’s legit, the rest of his team is still low-tier.”
“Right? Even if you swapped in top-tier BCK mids like Sung Ji-hwan or Han Kyung-su, with their team comp we’d still crush them.”
“I was just joking anyway, haha! They’re not Chen or Wang Wei level. No way we’d lose to Masters.”

Their faces were filled with pure confidence—an overwhelming superiority born of rank difference.

No one doubted their victory.

Especially Jung Yong-seok.

“Whether he’s boosting or not, don’t ban his champion first game. Let him pick it. I’ll put him in his place myself.”

He was absolutely confident.

“Let’s see just how good he really is.”

Not a shred of doubt that he would win.