The Legendary Gamer Girl is Obsessed

The flow of time erasing old things happens naturally. Reluctantly, I downloaded the new wave: Teamfight Arena. Who knows? Maybe this one’ll hit the spot too. Sure, it’s not like Magical Fight, but since it’s so popular, it must have its advantages…

“What is this garbage game!”

I screamed in frustration within 20 minutes.

This crap wiped out Magical Fight?

Stole all the players?

Why?

*

“What’s this trash game?”

Across the headset, Victory (Jeon Wooseung) grinned at the response he’d been expecting.

“This is so boring! What even is mainstream appeal?”

Magical Fight, the game he and Victory used to play together, was undoubtedly well-made but unbearably hard. A hard game typically brings a sense of accomplishment, but the gap between old-school hardcore players and rookies eventually widened too much, stopping new players from joining. As a result, the game eventually failed. A common pattern for skill-based games.

Compared to Teamfight Arena, it was a much easier game.

“Easy to learn, hard to master.” A key mantra in creating a successful god game was exactly what Magical Fight lacked—hard to learn, hardest to master.

Realistically, it was a game only masochists could endure.

Victory reflected on it.

“Why are you, the guy who used to carry, playing this kids’ game?”

Judging by the voice chat, Legends sounded seriously upset.

“It’s just… Magical Fight but easier. Is this why it disappeared?”

The memories of the last three years of playing together came flooding back. Magical Fight had been fun. For them alone though. No one else understood it. But memories aren’t tarnished because of that.

“Would you like to join me here?”

Victory, Jeon Wooseung, an ever-present living legend in Teamfight Arena. The epitome of Teamfighting: genius, monster, devil, god, the embodiment of the game. The godlike record of winning 4 domestic tournaments and 2 international events in every single event he’s participated in, belonged solely to him.

The most trending game worldwide, Teamfight Arena.

And Victory, Jeon Wooseung, the peak of such a game.

“You could do what I’ve done, right?”

There was someone Victory, the champion, recognized as his only rival in his gaming life.

Legends had never tried Teamfight Arena, but he had been the master of Magical Fight.

Why would the king of an old battlefield make the switch to this new arena? Victory smirked in anticipation.

“Interesting.”

“Consumable items are only potions and wards? Blink has a cooldown of three minutes?! And where’s the Spellbook?! If you’re going to copy, at least copy properly!”

An improvement.

That’s what it was.

With Teamfight Arena using mostly equipment items versus Magical Fight’s reliance on consumables, it was undoubtedly simpler. Restricting Blink’s usage to once every three minutes versus its unlimited, chaotic use in Magical Fight made it much easier too. And the absence of the Spellbook, “a system that exchanges character points for immediate combat abilities,” which played a huge part in Magical Fight’s punishing difficulty, was gone. Hence, it succeeded because it was accessible and enjoyable for the masses.

Still, Victory’s old rival seemed dissatisfied.

“Garbage! Terrible game!”

“Is this his first time playing Teamfight Arena, and doesn’t he know who I am?”

Not everyone knows, though most gamers are likely aware of Victory, Jeon Wooseung’s existence. So why doesn’t Legends, the core gamer who was so passionate about the game, know Jeon? Why hasn’t he played Teamfight Arena in the last three years when it has dominated the global gaming market?

It didn’t make sense, but Victory decided not to reveal his identity just yet. He found it amusing to keep it as a game—like the protagonist hiding their identity.

“Both parties have secrets, it seems.”

A subtle mechanical tone came through Legends’ voice chat. It was obvious to Victory that Legends was using a voice changer but didn’t probe further. He assumed Legends had his reasons.

“Uhn! What are you doing?”

Someone approached behind him. The moment Victory heard the external sound, he muted the microphone. He was in the practice room of his teammates. The game’s global popularity could not be revealed just yet—he didn’t want this interesting game to end early.

“I was teaching a friend how to play.”

Standing opposite was Choe Ju-an, a considerably older man. Despite their age gap, they had grown close from living together for a long time, and for practical reasons, Victory spoke casually to him.

“Teaching teamfighting from Victory? Aiming for the Challenger Tier? But Victory’s unmatched physical skills?”

“Maybe not.”

“Is he that talented? Let me see.”

Ju-an looked at the screen, where the current player was at an impressive 20 kills and 0 deaths score.

Numbers aside, what mattered most was the player’s current rank in the system. Challenger, the uppermost tier of gamers, easily dominated Diamond Tier players (top 3%) and effortlessly slaughtered Bronze players (top 30%).

“What tier is he?”

“Still on Bot Matches.”

“Bot?”

Victory’s response deflated the tension quickly. Beginner tutorials involving bot matches offered no real measure of skill—AI players being so weak, it was a term used to mock novice gamers.

Is the champion wasting time helping this total beginner?

“Isn’t this a total waste of time? Like a kindergarten student getting tutored by a college student?”

“Friends don’t need to keep score. Besides, this guy is a bit… unique.”

“Unique? Am I destined to be king? What are you saying?”

Ju-an chuckled but couldn’t help feeling curious. Who could this person be that Victory speaks so highly of? How far could they go?

So, Ju-an made a mental note of the player’s username.

Sol.

That nickname’s easy to remember.

“Come on, is this even the right game? Did Magical Fight die because of garbage like this?”

“Hang on, be quiet for a sec.”

Victory, asking Ju-an for silence, turned the mic back on to placate Legends, who was clearly upset.

“This is just the tutorial. Things start changing once you play against actual people.”

Though it would take some time before proper ranked games began, unnecessary words might kill this monster of a beginner’s motivation.

“Hey, Uhn.”

Ju-an spoke again, prompting Victory to mute the mic.

“You’re acting so desperate to play together. Is she your girlfriend?”

“Nah, older brother; he’s a guy.”

3 years ago, Victory and Legends shared many games and many stories. A fair share of them were raunchy since it was their testosterone-heavy days.

“So then, do you like that kind of thing? You’ve been putting up an iron fortress against female fans, haven’t you?”

With a mischievous grin, Ju-an teased Victory.

“Not that. He’s just…”

What exactly was Legends to Victory?

Victory smiled slyly and replied.

“An irresistible rival to battle with.”

Enter Legends into Teamfight Arena.

And under the banner of his new nickname, Sol.