"Apex Predator," unlike other Dark Zone content that heavily adapted most of my past experiences, was filled with scenarios I had never actually encountered. My real-life operational range extended no further than from New York to California, which, while a considerable distance, ant I had never physically been to places like the ones depicted in the ga.
In other words, every battle I faced in Apex Predator was a new experience. However, the path I had walked served as a foundation, a stepping stone for climbing higher. This ant that I was well-equipped to handle unfamiliar situations.
As I progressed, the skill level of the players I encountered noticeably increased. Although I don't want to brag, there were occasions when soone other than would take the top spot. But no matter how far I advanced, the number of participants remained the sa. This ant that individual players drew less attention, and unless soone made themselves stand out, the focus quickly shifted elsewhere.
Even I found it difficult to keep track of all the players I defeated. How much harder would it be for the viewers, whose interests changed even more rapidly?
Regardless, I always focused on what I could do rather than worrying about external perceptions. I’ve always approached each engagent as if it were my last. Although KSM hadn’t even started, and the Asia Qualifiers were still far off, there was no guarantee I would actually see them.
If, by so chance, all the questions I had about Dark Zone were answered imdiately, I would likely finish up and quit the ga without hesitation. I’d then reminisce about the past.
Maybe one day that will happen.
I’ve rambled on a bit. Anyway, for now, I need to respond appropriately to the other players who have put in countless hours of effort for this day—though, to be honest, that’s just an excuse.
[Warning: The current area will be flooded in 3 minutes and 37 seconds.]
I must have gotten lost in thought because, before I knew it, the ground was already starting to flood. I could swear I’d seen this kind of scene before—maybe it was déjà vu.
The area would be sealed off soon. While the seawater was rising from the outside, it was also seeping into the border areas under the pretext of facility damage.
With a splash, I moved forward.
"…Kill , please…."
"Oh, right."
Thunk.
Getting ejected to the lobby quickly is probably better than drowning.
With a single shot, I put the incapacitated opponent out of his misery. He disintegrated with a faint smile. It felt strange, but I figured it was better than nothing.
Leaving the flooded area behind, I disappeared beyond the horizon.
Another ordinary day passed by.
"Testing, testing… Can you hear ? Hello, everyone?"
The world of pro gars, like any other, was diverse beyond asure. From those who preferred to keep a low profile to those who thrived on public attention, the spectrum was vast. And naturally, many pros enjoyed interacting with their fans and viewers through streams. After all, without an audience, a pro gar wouldn’t have a career.
Among them was Evler from Arcadia Gas, who regularly communicated with his fans and viewers through streaming—a relatively small but dedicated group. He started his stream right after Thursday’s qualifying rank ended.
Viewers began to gather, as they always did. Being a pro gar ant having the advantage of demonstrating exceptional gaming skills on stream, making him a successful broadcaster in his own right.
As viewers greeted him with "Eh-Hi"—a short form for "Evler Hi"—the number continued to grow. Due to the excitent surrounding the AP soloing matches, the viewership was higher than usual, eventually stabilizing after surpassing 2,000.
As more viewers joined, Evler subtly changed the stream title.
[Stream Title: Let’s Chat About Today’s Qualifying Rank!]
Now, it was all about how well he could engage the audience.
Cautiously, he began to speak, officially kicking off the interaction session.
"I’ve been active as an AP pro gar for about a year and three months now. And if there’s one thing I’ve realized while doing AP soloing… it’s how amazing it is that there are always more skilled players erging."
If this guy climbed to the first tier in just a year, he’s got talent, right?
Watching the fights, it’s scary how good everyone is, LOL.
Every match is legendary, lol.
Did they gather all the Special Forces in Korea or what?
Fact: For soone who’s just doing okay, this guy’s always in the top ranks.
"Oh, co on, ‘talented’? There’s almost no such thing in this field. Everyone here practices until they’re practically worn down. I train for twelve hours a day myself. I’d probably be dead if virtual reality hadn’t co along."
Talent, huh.
Where did that word even co from? There’s a famous saying from a legendary pianist: if you skip practice for a day, you notice; if you skip it for three days, the audience notices. Who’s out there succeeding by just breathing?
It’s a common misconception, but now wasn’t the ti for a debate on definitions. I let the thought drift away like debris in the sea of my mind.
There were plenty of things I could relate to without getting hung up on that.
A qualifying rank match… could be compared to a random obstacle course. So parts might be easier, others required every ounce of effort, and so… well, you had to wonder.
Was that even designed to be overco?
The question naturally slipped out.
"Anyway, the world constantly reminds you that practice alone isn’t enough. I wonder if my perspective would change if I managed to co in first place just once. My best rank over the past four days has been 5th…."
5th out of that many people? Damn.
Seems like you’ll easily make it into KSM. 100 people is pretty lenient, right?
You can do it, LOL.
The real problem cos after the Selection Match, lol.
With so many people, every match is a bloodbath….
5th place out of that many people.
It sounded good, but considering that the average number of total sessions a player participated in during the qualifying rank—aside from the top tier—ranged from 50 to 65, one match wasn’t that significant.
Many people overlooked how much physical and ntal strain tournants placed on pros. Especially the grueling four-month schedule from regional matches to the Asia Qualifiers and then to the final championship—the "One Above All" match was even more intense.
There’s always a big difference between what you can say and what you can think.
Naturally, the topic drifted elsewhere.
Evler belonged to Arcadia Gas, and within their first and second leagues, there were plenty of pros who enjoyed interacting with viewers. After all, pros live closest to the dia they can communicate through.
As long as the topic wasn’t too sensitive, and it helped improve public perception, it was okay to share so insights about the current situation.
And those interested in AP matches likely already knew.
"Still, Arcadia is doing quite well. No one’s particularly struggling, and it seems everyone who’s supposed to make it to KSM will get there without much trouble. It helps that everyone is so skilled."
Even in such high-level gas where you might run into the sa pro gars multiple tis in a single match, the qualifying rank was just another start. To et the best of the best from other countries, you had to climb two steep walls.
One was the qualifying rank I kept ntioning, and the next was KSM. Out of 1,600, only 100 would remain, and then only 20. After surviving as one of 16, only 20% would remain.
It felt too early to start judging who was doing well or not.
Once you realized the challenge of these numbers, you couldn’t help but admire those who were better than you.
In the pro world, there were always distinctions in skill. There were those slightly better than you, those who consistently ranked high, and those who seed like they’d comfortably make it into the top 100….
But among them, there were also those who were so far beyond reach that even feeling envious seed ironic.
["Luke Gonnanbak" donated 1,000 won for so snacks! Thank you!]
–What left the biggest impression on you during today’s match?
"Thank you for the 1,000 won donation! Let’s see… what was it…?"
The donation’s content naturally triggered a reaction, leading him to think about what had been on his mind earlier.
As the trigger was pulled, vivid mories—complete with sensory details that shouldn’t be possible—flashed back as if he were reliving the experience. Fragnts of language and thoughts surged forward, struggling to form coherent sentences.
It was his job to gather them into a coherent response.
"Oh, right… I don’t know if anyone noticed, but there was a ti today when I died in a really brutal way. If you’ve been watching AP soloing matches closely, you’ll know what I’m talking about."
The reaction was imdiate.
Of course, it was.
Ah, LOL, you got taken out by "that person."
Why do I know exactly who he’s talking about without him saying it?
The "Tail Killer."
A nightmare for pros, LOL.
I’m dying here, LOL.
Of course.
Everyone knew.
After the tournant rank ended safely, the story of "Yujin," which had only been circulating within certain circles like Xi and SSM, was now spreading beyond just the pro scene.
But as the scrimmages ended and the qualifying rank officially began, she… well, she started flying around as if she was determined to solidify those unbelievable rumors in everyone’s minds.
No, rather than "flying around"… she was more like a typhoon.
Her re existence was like a massive blender.
"Uh, yeah… everyone knows, it seems. Yeah, it was her. I got totally wrecked. I’d be in better shape if I’d been hit by a car. Is it okay to say this? I’m kind of close with the Reaper Infected team, and Mikael got totally owned by her."
[Kim Dietermin donated 1,000 won for so snacks! Thank you!]
–The man who flew with his shield, Mikael, LOL.
Seriously.
The endless stream of absurd rumors about her was updated daily, and even one of these incidents could have beco a legendary mont in this year’s qualifying rank. Yet it was just one of many in the long list of insane stories about Yujin.
Suddenly, the floodgates opened, and people started sharing all sorts of stories about her. Once they started, there was no holding back.
Naturally, the viewers’ engagent skyrocketed. After all, nothing beats hearing a firsthand account from soone who experienced it. Evler shared everything he knew, and the viewers couldn’t get enough.
He explained where he encountered her, what his situation was, what choices he made, and how he ultimately t his end… all while passionately recounting the tale.
By the ti he finished, he had lost track of how much ti had passed.
"…Wait, why did the viewer count suddenly shoot up?"
4,558 viewers.
Almost twice the usual number of viewers had quietly gathered in the chat.
But of course, this phenonon wasn’t unique to him.
Reviews
All reviews (0)