Chapter 9
ăDemon Competes in Ashmoon Night 193: Lower Numbering Match 4ă
ăWho Is Demon? Japan Amateur League’s First Undefeated Promotionă
ăCan He Cut It on the World’s Greatest Stage? The 193rd Night When the Moon Turns Ashen, Demon Arrivesă
ăUndefeated Promotion Demon: US Pro League Debut in Match 4ă
ăWas Japan’s Undefeated Run a Fluke? Demon Put to the Test in Americaă
ăThe Next Chapter of the Undefeated Myth: Ashmoon Night 193ă
The following day.
The moment Go Taemin’s participation in Ashmoon Night 193 was officially announced, the American Nova Arena community reacted swiftly.
ăSteelCurtain_Hankă Demon? That guy who went undefeated in the Japanese amateur league? Sticking him on the undercard tells you NAA already knows what’s up.
âFirst undefeated promotion in the Japanese amateur league? How good are they over there anyway?
âWay below us, honestly. Their pro league is about on par with our mid-tier amateurs.
âReally? Then isn’t he gonna die right in his debut match?
âThat’s the whole point. Seeing how long he lasts is gonna be fun.
ăNovaFreak_Texasă Match 4’s keyword is Survival, so he’s already done for. I just hope he lasts at least an hour so it’s actually worth watching.
âSuch warm consideration.
âHey, is that comfort or mockery?
âBoth đ€Ł
ăxXBladeKingXxă Coming out of the Japanese league gives zero confidence. Over here, their pros routinely debut, drop into double-digit losing streaks, and quietly vanish. An amateur undefeated streak? Is that supposed to mean anything?
âStop hitting with facts.
âNAA must have a reason for dropping him into Match 4, even if it’s just to burn through his image.
âRight, he’s got a name at least. Use him up in Match 4 and toss him aside.
âBrutal, but true.
ăquietnovalurkeră Honestly, I’m kind of looking forward to it. Do you guys even know how hard an undefeated promotion is? Pulling that off anywhere, Japan or otherwise, is insane!
âHAHAHAHAHA look at the teacher lecturing everyone.
âIsn’t that true, though? No matter the league, undefeated changes the conversation.
âThat’s why we watch. If it works, he gets respect; if it doesn’t, into the trash. That’s what the US league has always been.
ăDemonSlayer_officială His name is Demon? Pfft, come to America and you’re just an ordinary human.
âđđđ
âScreenshotting this comment to repost after the match.
âPlease do. I’m totally ready to be memorialized.
âEither way, this comment is definitely getting summoned back.
âLet’s just wait and see. Could be nothing, or maybe there’s something to him. Though even if there is, he’ll probably meet his end in Match 4.
âFound the realist.
âThe most American reaction possible. You’ve got to prove it with results here anyway.
“…Reactions are pretty chilly across the board.”
A barrage of cold reception poured through the monitor.
Chae Geonuk clicked his tongue and spun his chair around.
Inflammatory comments questioning Go Taemin’s caliber continued to roll across the screen in real time.
Hearing Geonuk’s words, Go Taemin, who was putting in colored circle lenses in the corner, asked flatly without even lifting his head:
“What are they saying? Betting on my death?”
“They’re just saying nobody expects anything from you. Treating you like bargain-bin clearance right before its expiration date.”
“Well, not entirely wrong. I am getting sold off for cash.”
Go Taemin resumed slipping in the circle lenses as if it were nothing.
The steady touch of his fingers easing the lenses in was as serene as someone picking out a triangle kimbap at a convenience store.
Confronted by that surreal composure, Chae Geonuk rubbed the back of his neck and let out a long sigh.
“Hey, how can you laugh in this situation? These guys are literally taking bets that you won’t last an hour.”
“Real-money bets? Can I bet on myself? Payout sounds juicy.”
“It’s a figure of speech, you punk! And you really do need to watch out. There are some fairly famous names entering this match.”
Geonuk scrolled the mouse wheel, bringing up three profiles side by side on the monitor.
Juggernaut (Juggernaut), a former American football player.
The Human Butcher, Joaquin.
And lastly, the Ashen Phantom, Christopher.
NAA had singled out Go Taemin â bearing the flashy title of undefeated promotion from the Japanese league â as prey to set up a spectacular launchpad for these three warriors.
‘Maybe I should have just turned down this offer.’
In Geonuk’s eyes, no matter how battle-hardened a veteran mercenary his junior was, handling those three looked far from easy.
Anyone who had watched them play would think the same.
Seeing his junior so nonchalant only stoked his anxiety.
Oblivious or simply indifferent to Geonuk’s fretting, Taemin finished putting in his circle lenses and turned his head.
“Ta-da. How do I look?”
“…You’re seriously heading in like that?”
“What? Doesn’t it look cool?”
“You’ll stick out like a sore thumb in the dark.”
“Yeah, but the aura is insane.”
Go Taemin grinned happily into the mirror.
True to his words, the crimson glow leaking from beneath the akwi mask looked intensely menacing.
Add to that the black leather armor and the pitch-black robe draped over it.
In pitch darkness, it would probably look as if the demonic mask were floating alone in midair.
Not stopping there, Go Taemin drew his sword from its scabbard.
He inspected the blade up and down, nodding in satisfaction.
“Nothing beats domestic make after all. The last one was Chinese, wasn’t it?”
Chae Geonuk replied with a sour look.
“…That was Japanese.”
“I knew it! If it were Korean, it never would have snapped.”
“Hey, moron. Even Korean steel snaps if you bash a boulder with it.”
“Don’t slander it! Are you disrespecting K-Steel right now?”
Go Taemin snickered and sheathed the blade again.
To prepare for this match, he had scoured online malls to find what was, strictly in terms of cost-effectiveness, the best domestic sword available.
Though far from the high-end mastercraft blades worth hundreds of millions used by pros, it looked more than adequate to paint today’s arena in blood.
“Good grief. You’ve always got an answer for everything.”
Chae Geonuk shook his head as his junior puffed out his chest without a shred of shame.
Whether that baseless confidence stemmed from raw skill or pure greed blinding his eyes, Geonuk couldn’t tell. One thing was certain:
Tonight, the Americans were going to witness one deeply peculiar madman.
“Fine, fine. Go give them a proper taste of your glorious K-Steel.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make back the investment and bag plenty of bonuses too. Ah, time’s up.”
Go Taemin pointed at the clock on the wall.
Match 4 of Ashmoon Night 193 was scheduled to begin at 3:00 PM Eastern Standard Time.
Back in Korea, it was 4:00 AM.
While others slept soundly, he was diving into a blood-soaked battlefield, but Taemin’s expression remained as calm as someone heading off to a graveyard shift at a convenience store.
Just then, a question popped into Taemin’s head.
“By the way, what happens if the match takes ten hours? Do you just have to sit here and wait the whole time, hyung?”
“…I explained this before. No matter how long you fight in there, only an hour passes out here.”
“Oh, was that it?”
Chae Geonuk let out a weary sigh.
“Time is meaningless inside virtual reality. Same goes for spectators logging in directly via capsules.”
“Then what about people watching on computers or smartphones without a capsule? Does an hour feel like ten to them too?”
“Of course not. They watch real-time edited video, like YouTube. The AI handles cutting the highlights automatically.”
“Aha.”
“‘Aha,’ my ass. The videos we watched earlier were all edited like that.”
Despite Geonuk’s scolding, Go Taemin merely scratched the back of his head and gave a bright grin.
That total absence of tension somehow seemed to take the edge off Geonuk’s anxiety.
“Well, I’m off to have some fun. Rest up.”
Shortly after, the appointed time arrived.
Offering a light wave, Go Taemin slid into the capsule.
With a low mechanical hum, the capsule cover smoothly slid shut.
Watching him, Chae Geonuk murmured softly:
“…Go give them hell. And don’t come back whining that you broke another sword.”
With those parting words, Chae Geonuk also lay down in his capsule.
Before long, both capsules in the office lit up and began their boot sequence.
When I opened my eyes, a dense jungle stretched before me.
Broken sunlight showered like shrapnel through intertwined branches thick enough to blot out the sky.
Humid air bit at my nose.
[Match Type: US Pro League – Ashmoon Night 193 Match 4]
[Game Title: Blood and Flag]
[Match Format: Survival]
[Map: Red Moss Forest (Medium)]
[Current Spectators: 107,274]
[Victory Condition: Surviving at the end of the match]
[Leaving the forest will result in immediate disqualification.]
[Time Remaining until Match End: 72:00:00]
[Current Survivors: 1,000]
[Multiple hidden rules exist. (Rules will be revealed after a set period.)]
[The match will begin in 3 seconds.]
Muggy heat rolled over my body.
The hot, humid air went beyond merely warm; it plastered against my skin like a hot wet towel clamped over my face.
Even standing still, sweat beaded beneath the leather armor, sticking uncomfortably to my flesh.
‘Interesting map.’
In this jungle, visibility was poor due to towering trees dozens of meters tall and vines strung between them like spiderwebs.
Furthermore, everywhere looked identical; without a compass, taking just a few steps made getting lost all too easy.
[The match will begin in 2 seconds.]
Worst of all was the cover and concealment scattered everywhere.
Trunks thicker than a man’s torso and adult-height ferns made devilishly tricky ambush spots.
Even with an enemy right under your nose, failing to catch the rustle of foliage routinely meant having your head lopped off.
To stage a cruel spectacle called Survival, no arena could be worse.
[The match will begin in 1 second.]
To me, however, it felt thoroughly familiar.
Jungles were something I had experienced countless times across Africa.
All that aside…
‘What is this?’
I tilted my head.
White thread-like lines filled my vision.
Up to this point, it was no different from usual. These lines fluttering around like phantoms were something I saw all the time.
The thickness, though, was on an entirely different level.
Where the usual lines were like strands of thread, the ones cutting across my field of view right now were, with only slight exaggeration, thick as ropes.
Why such a difference existed eluded me, but thanks to that, there was zero chance I would ever confuse reality with virtual reality.
[Match Start!]
No sooner had the prompt flashed than the taut stillness running through the jungle snapped.
Cries and the violent thrashing of undergrowth erupted from every direction.
‘Let’s check the map first.’
I slipped smoothly between the bushes.
Anyone sprinting noisily through this jungle was an amateur.
The squelch of mud beneath boots, the brush of leaves against clothing â in this forest, every single sound served as a beacon advertising one’s location.
Moving with fluid ease through gaps in the vines, I surveyed my surroundings.
‘Everyone’s moving in way too much of a rush.’
The white, rope-like lines crisscrossing the air now felt as familiar as the map’s natural terrain.
Lowering my stance, I drew my sword in a deliberate motion.
At that exact moment, a rustle came from beyond the brush behind my left flank.
In a fraction of a second, my vision shifted.
Where nothing had been, a vivid, blood-red line as thick as a rope slashed through empty air.
A trajectory streaking straight toward my throat.
Without even turning my head, I angled my sword upward toward the line’s endpoint.
– Oh! An engagement right out of the gate! Raven is attempting an ambush on Demon!
– Raven’s an eight-month pro in the US Pro League, consistently posting above-average results in the lower numberings. His ambush game is rated Named-tier, so Demon ran into a real problem right from the start!
– Raven’s about average for our US Pro League, though. Not someone anyone would call exceptionally strong. If Demon struggles against an ordinary competitor like him… well, that speaks volumes.
– Frankly, expectations aren’t very high. The Japan Amateur League and the US Pro League don’t even share the same starting line. While I’d hope he doesn’t drop out right here… who knows? We’ll have to see. All right, let’s keep watching!
“…”
The silhouette of my opponent emerged through the bushes.
A black cloak, dual swords, and a visibly stiffened expression. Clearly, he hadn’t imagined I could deflect it.
A pro was still a pro, though.
Hesitating for only a heartbeat, he unleashed both swords in a simultaneous barrage.
A cross-slash targeting my left flank and right shoulder at once. Two blood-red lines sliced across my vision.
He was trying to drown out the embarrassment of a failed ambush with an aggressive flurry.
I didn’t bother swinging to trade blows.
Minimal movement.
Twisting my body by a paper-thin margin, the razor-sharp twin blades grazed past my collar, missing by a whisper.
“…!”
The man’s eyes flew wide.
He looked utterly unable to believe his full-power strike had swung empty so helplessly.
In that split second, an opening appeared across his chest.
Keeping the sword angled from the block, I turned it horizontal and thrust straight through.
A strike spearing the origin point of the red line â his heart.
“Guh…!”
The man who had been swinging twin blades with such bluster froze where he stood.
His face showed he didn’t even comprehend why his own swing had missed, let alone when the enemy blade had plunged into his heart.
[You have slain Pro Warrior ‘Raven’.]
Soon, his form shattered into white data particles, disintegrating into specks.
‘Easy money.’
Flicking the blood from my sword, I moved on.
