GegulGegulFrog: “Gatekeeper over there!”
While Sa-yoon was contemplating the enemy’s hidden motives behind their absence, Frog suddenly darted forward. It was as if a moth had been drawn to a flame—so fast that there was no time to stop him.
Hurriedly shifting his gaze, Sa-yoon caught a flickering light at the far end of the left corridor. It was the Gatekeeper, its antennae glowing like those of a deep-sea creature.
Defeating the Gatekeeper would open a passage to the central area, but the location of the opening depended on who landed the final blow. Naturally, the path would connect closer to the team that eliminated it.
There was no sign of Killer approaching, and if they could take down the Gatekeeper quickly, they could secure the path and regroup as a four-man unit.
Frog’s decision wasn’t necessarily bad. The enemy had been waiting in stealth, biding their time for the two to split up, and at that moment, the Gatekeeper had conveniently appeared in the distance, as if to lure them in.
“Frog, behind you!”
It all happened in an instant. The moment Frog was separated from Chasa, putting a wider gap between them than the Warlock’s attack range—when the fight shifted from a two-on-one to a one-on-one—Killer emerged from behind Frog and immediately drove his blade forward.
His first skill was a stun. Caught off guard by the ambush, Frog’s head slumped forward, leaving him completely defenseless. It was a textbook Hunter attack—draining as much HP as possible before the stunned target could recover.
Beneath Frog’s health bar, a series of status effect icons appeared in rapid succession, and his HP plummeted.
“Ah, damn.”
He really shouldn’t have gotten hit by that. Unfortunately, unlike Warlocks, Blade Masters didn’t have a shield skill.
Since when had Killer been shadowing them in stealth?
Sa-yoon had a separate combat log window—something every seasoned PvP player used. It automatically displayed a red alert whenever an enemy within a certain range activated a skill, showing exactly what had been used.
But that window had remained completely silent. That meant Killer had gone into stealth outside of the log’s detection range before approaching. It was a strategy that required precise calculations—understanding the enemy’s movements, predicting how far they could follow, and executing it flawlessly.
…This wasn’t just “pretty good.”
Truthfully, Sa-yoon had underestimated Killer when he showed up alone. Being from a backwater server, he’d seen plenty of Noize guild rankers who relied on gear rather than skill. Killer had always hit hard in dungeons and large-scale fights, but Sa-yoon had chalked that up to high-end equipment.
And since they had always been on the same side, Sa-yoon had never fought him directly. But now that they were enemies, he could see it clearly—this was a completely different level.
The ability to predict an opponent’s movements, the perfect timing of his engagement, and the sheer damage output that had cut a Blade Master’s HP down to less than half in an instant—this wasn’t just luck or good gear.
Some players in these battles just want to face easy opponents. But Sa-yoon wasn’t one of them. His eyes gleamed as he watched Killer. This was far more interesting. After all, games were meant to be fun.
Chasa charged forward, sending out his pre-summoned tank familiar, Hagenti.
The thrill of PvP lay in how even the smallest factor could turn the tide. As long as Frog could hold out for a little while, they had the advantage—it was still a two-on-one fight.
The golden bull burst into the dark corridor, illuminating the space as it charged straight for Killer. But just as it was about to ram into him, Hagenti suddenly froze, its body stiffening as if paralyzed.
“What the—?”
Frog: “Don’t come here!”
Sa-yoon halted mid-step, his reaction almost perfectly in sync with Frog’s urgent shout.
Frog: “The whole place is covered in traps.”
A faint sheen glistened beneath Hagenti’s feet—active traps, scattered across the floor. Sa-yoon had thought the marks were just water droplets from the ceiling… But when had Killer set all of those?
As if sensing his master’s frustration, the immobilized Hagenti stomped its hooves and let out a furious bellow toward the ceiling.
With a melee summon like Hagenti disabled, it was useless now. Could Frog hold out long enough for Sa-yoon to dismiss it and summon a ranged DPS familiar instead?
He hesitated for only a few seconds. But that was all the time Killer needed to land a relentless combo on Frog, launching him into the air.
Frog: “Ah, come on! Seriously?!”
From the other side of the headset, the furious clacking of keys could be heard. While airborne, Frog couldn’t block, attack, or even use potions. The moment his stun wore off, Killer struck again, leaving Frog with only a third of his HP.
As long as he survived until he hit the ground, he had a chance. Sa-yoon banked on that and unleashed a flurry of spells at Killer.
“How much did he put into evasion?”
But every attack was dodged.
As a Warlock, Sa-yoon’s skills required casting time unless they were instant. And with every failed hit, his frustration mounted. Under normal circumstances, he would have chipped away at Killer’s evasion using minor DoT skills first. But with his teammate dying right in front of him, he hadn’t even thought that far ahead.
Finally, one of his spells landed—but without enough stacks built up, his damage wasn’t enough to stop Killer’s blade from slicing into Frog.
Damn it. This was bad.
The realization that he’d made the wrong call hit him at the same time that Frog died. He hadn’t even been able to intervene.
[‘GegulGegulFrog’ has died.]
[You lost 150 points.]
When he was an ally, he felt so reliable. But as an enemy, he was downright terrifying.
Honestly, it didn’t matter to Sa-yoon whether Frog lived or died—he just needed to focus on his own role. But because his teammate happened to be someone he knew, he’d tried to save him. That was his mistake.
Killer had clearly anticipated this and played him accordingly. Realizing he’d been dancing in the palm of his opponent’s hand left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Freedeal: “Frog, why’d you melt so fast? It hasn’t even been 30 seconds since you said you ran into him!”
“Huh?”
Shockingly, Freedeal was right. Sa-yoon glanced at the time displayed on his monitor. The fight had started less than 30 seconds ago. Frog had been obliterated in an instant.
How the hell did a Blade Master die faster than a Warlock?
Oath’s Vow: “Ah……”
Oath’s Vow: “Did we get hit with three DPS again……”
Jeon-gi: “Ugh, Purple! Stop running away alone!”
Furple: “I set up traps. Get out of there, fast.”
Freedeal: “Wait, what? You’re kidding, right? Seriously? Like, for real? I swear, I said if I had to deal with three DPS again, I’d delete my damn character! Frog, are you insane?!”
Freedeal unleashed a furious roar, his voice blaring through the headset. Sa-yoon quickly turned his volume down to the lowest setting.
“…Did you really not wear tank gear?”
He had just watched Frog melt like ice cream on scorching asphalt, but even so, he still asked—half in disbelief, half in desperate hope that he was wrong.
“Why…?”
It was a genuine question. Before the fight, Oath’s Vow—always the strategist—had given clear instructions:
If Killer shows up, don’t try to out-damage him. You won’t win. Wear a tank setup, stall for time, and retreat toward our base.
Frog: “But if we don’t have enough DPS, we’ll die.”
Of course. No wonder he had died so damn fast. The last time they talked about his setup, Frog had mentioned he didn’t give a damn about defense—he had gone all-in on offense.
This reckless bastard.
“Are you out of your mind?”
Frog: “It’s not fun if I don’t deal damage……”
Hearing that, Sa-yoon let out a hollow laugh.
This had never been a real 2v1 fight to begin with.
New life lesson: Never team up with Frog again.
Chasa mentally engraved that resolution as he swiftly retreated.
[Guild] GegulGegulFrog: “Fall back! I’ll rejoin you soon!”
Even Frog himself must have felt embarrassed by the nonsense he was spouting because he turned off his mic and switched to chat.
[Guild] GegulGegulFrog: “Ah, wrong chat.”
The same guild chat that Killer was obviously watching.
The eerie BGM was layered with the constant sound of dripping water from the ceiling. Over that unsettling atmosphere, Freedeal—his volume now mercifully halved—was screaming that they needed to kick that crazy amphibian out of the guild.
And then, as if he truly had no heart, Killer—who had just slaughtered his guildmate without a second thought—slowly turned around.
Sa-yoon’s fingers twitched. He had hesitated for a split second and missed the timing to unsummon Hagenti. Now, he moved to give it a battle command instead.
But then—
“What the hell?”
Oath’s Vow: “Chasa, can you hold out? Want us to come?”
[‘Killer’ waves at ‘Chasa.’]
Completely out of nowhere, Killer greeted him.
Then, as if Chasa wasn’t even worth his time, he just turned around and started walking away.
What is he, Arsène Lupin or something?
Watching Killer casually vanish into the darkness, Sa-yoon spoke quietly.
“No, I’ll handle this.”
Oath’s Vow: “Roger that.”
[Naberius’ Vine grips ‘Killer.’]
A massive demonic hand emerged from the ground, seizing Killer in its grasp.
[General] Killer: “?”
As Chasa stepped forward, Killer blinked at him with wide, innocent eyes.
The same guy who had just sliced a Blade Master to death. Acting all pure and clueless.
Chasa stared at him for a moment—then smacked Killer over the head with his staff.
Who the hell do you think you’re ignoring?
