"Nice to et you! It's truly an honor to finally interview Yujin, who has recently beco a rising star in the AP soloing scene."
"Thank you. It must have been a long journey to get here."
"Haha, fortunately, it didn’t take too long."
Before a match begins, every participant is assigned to a private waiting area. The space feels like a cozy living room and can be customized by the user, but its main purpose is to provide essential information about the upcoming session.
While waiting, players can check which map they've been assigned and plan their route accordingly. That was my initial intention.
However, instead of being in my private space, I found myself in a booth clearly designed for an interview. To explain how I ended up here, I need to summarize what happened five minutes ago: while many of the other promising candidates had already completed their interviews, I, the most anticipated player, hadn’t yet responded to the request.
As a result, the broadcasting team working with Icarus International squeezed in a brief interview with just ten minutes before the match was set to begin. It wasn’t a big deal, so I agreed.
And now, back to the present.
"A lot of viewers have sent in questions, and the most common one is about your approach to mind control during matches. Do you have any tips or secrets you could share?"
"Reacting to situations is mostly instinctual, but overcoming well-designed challenges requires more than that. You need a wealth of experience to handle anything that cos your way."
It was a rather fundantal answer, but the broadcasters had anticipated this and added so embellishnts.
"Ah, so it’s important to have a solid foundation. That makes perfect sense. But as you know, in this professional world, everyone starts from a similar point. Besides experience, are there any subtle factors that you believe determine the outco of a match?"
"I don’t believe there’s necessarily anything like that. In my opinion, small differences alone don’t decide who lives and who dies."
"Really? That’s quite surprising. Could you explain a bit more?"
On the surface, it might sound like a vague answer. Essentially, I was saying that the chaos of countless variables is not sothing the human brain can easily quantify.
However, just as a gambler’s words carry less weight than those of a wealthy individual, the words of soone who has consistently crushed all obstacles and secured first place multiple tis hold a different kind of authority. Even the broadcasters, curious as both gars and interviewers, leaned in closer as I began to elaborate.
"Many people say that the outco of a fight depends on quick thinking, shooting skills, and combat experience. They’re not wrong. But can you maintain the sa level of physical performance in every single engagent?"
On average, a player in the preliminary ranks encounters hostile players more than twenty tis. The actual number of fights is usually less, but there are a hundred players in total. Even though they’re spread out over a large area, you’ll likely face at least ten confrontations.
Where’s the guarantee that you can always maintain the sa, optimal physical performance in all these situations?
Even if you could, what if you’re shot at from a bizarre angle that your skills alone can’t overco? Instinct, shooting skills, and combat experience can only take you so far; you need a foundation to apply them effectively.
For the first ti since SSM, I started sharing insights that I hadn’t revealed elsewhere. It didn’t really matter—such theories were always sowhat abstract anyway.
Aware of this, I kept my explanation concise.
"When I engage in combat, I always assu that I’m at a disadvantage. Then, I work to eliminate options until I can at least reach an equal footing. For example, I’ll block the enemy’s escape route and then try to cut off their sound awareness… sothing like that."
"Ah, that makes sense. In many of your combat clips, the situations seem to unfold as if you’re planning for a one-on-one duel. I’m starting to understand now."
In simple terms, winning wasn’t just about being strong.
It was about creating situations where I could decisively eliminate the enemy, which allowed to secure first place in many matches.
As the broadcasters—now journalists—recalled past clips, I could see the gears turning in their heads.
"So, the reason you use lee weapons instead of firearms in the final monts is to ensure that the enemy player is completely finished off."
"Exactly. But since it might scare so players, I’ve considered reducing how often I do that."
"Haha, so players are definitely intimidated by it. If you could save the axes and hamrs for PVE enemies, I think everyone would appreciate it."
"I’ll keep that in mind."
After this unexpected mont of reflection, the interview continued. As the questions selected by viewers were gradually exhausted, more standard topics followed.
They asked about my first impressions of Dark Zone, why I chose to solo Apex Predator, what my first PVP mode was like, and how I would objectively rate my own skills in the ga. While I was candid in my responses, any questions about my real-life activities were deftly avoided.
Even as I answered the other questions freely, I left no room for speculation when it ca to my personal life. My firm stance made even the interviewers guess that I must have had a good reason for it.
Eventually, the precious minutes dwindled down to re seconds, signaling the start of the main event.
Considering that so players continue practicing until the very last second, the broadcasters felt they had taken valuable ti away—sothing they ntioned as they wrapped up the interview.
"Thank you so much for sharing your insights with us. We look forward to seeing more great results from you in the upcoming match. Do you have any words for your fans?"
"…Fans… I wonder why they ca up with that nickna. Still, I’m grateful they like it. It feels… odd."
"Haha, it seems everyone is captivated by your charm."
And then, one final question.
"So, one last question. Most pro gars spend every last second practicing before a match. How do you usually spend your ti?"
"Hmm."
A pause.
"I was just finishing up the main mission before coming here."
"Ah, the main mission… wait, what?"
A surprised voice.
But just as I had left Harmony earlier, I prepared to bid my second farewell to them as well.
As light enveloped my avatar, I waved and added one last thing.
"You’ll find out more if you watch the stream!"
With that, I vanished into a shower of glowing particles, leaving the two bewildered broadcasters behind.
Today's map was a gas storage facility near California.
[Alert: Carbon dioxide levels in the air are rapidly increasing.]
[Alert: Large heat source detected several kiloters away. Likely a wildfire.]
[Alert: Complete incineration of the area expected in 24 minutes and 27 seconds.]
"Sigh."
The wind was dry, and the air was thick with the acrid sll of smoke.
Although it was the middle of the night, the horizon beyond the ridge was glowing red, the fire showing no signs of dying down. At a glance, it might have looked like the sun was rising, but the rising sun is always accompanied by a blue sky.
In other words, a wildfire.
China had bombarded parts of California with napalm, sparking massive wildfires. The resulting smoke and flas created a kill zone.
Like many maps, this one had a unique feature that could be seen if no one escaped in ti.
Specifically, if no one managed to escape within the set ti, the kiloliters of gas stored in the facility would cause a massive explosion, wiping out all players on the map. A bizarre, catastrophic conclusion to the match.
Though the napalm had started the fires, this was a subtle lesson on why gas storage facilities shouldn’t be built in such places.
In a way, it was a sowhat realistic map, borrowing elents from Dark Zone and integrating them into the AP’s virtual reality simulation setting.
"Ugh."
This place was a real headache.
It wasn’t a favorite of mine. The area was filled with smoke from burning trees. Getting caught in it could irritate your eyes and cause status effects like dizziness, gradually eroding your control over your body.
And of course, the flas were a danger in their own right.
Clatter!
As always, it was the preliminaries, aning the tournant rules were in effect. There was no need to worry about the pace of looting; items were plentiful and easy to find in nearby crates.
However, because of the hardcore nature of the ga, I had to manually load each round. That’s one of the reasons I preferred large-caliber guns—each magazine only held about fifteen rounds at most.
[Warning: Carbon dioxide levels spiking.]
"Not the best spawn point."
To give a brief overview of my current location… I was on the map’s outskirts. While it wasn’t necessarily bad to be far from other players, there was usually a reason no one ventured to such places.
Quickly, I put on my gas mask. It appeared to be the advanced version of the M50 standard issue for the U.S. military, likely the M55. Although the ear area was exposed, breathing was filtered through the canister, slightly hampering my ability to hear. It was unavoidable.
Interestingly, though, the fires brought along sothing that fit the situation.
Though I wasn’t sure if "object" was the right word for it.
Swoosh.
"They tell us not to engage in lee, and then they give us this."
A fire axe.
Dark Zone and Apex Predator maps often featured lee weapons that matched the setting. For instance, in a prison-thed map, there were makeshift blades made by inmates. In underground research facilities, you could find strange, heated daggers.
And in places like the Aurora Power Plant, axes sotis appeared. Given that this map’s main the was a facility engulfed in wildfire, it made sense that they included fire axes for clearing obstacles and cutting through paths.
I gripped the rubber handle to prevent it from slipping, then slung it over my back, where it automatically secured itself.
They say my lee combat scares other players, yet they keep putting these things in the ga. Their words and actions certainly don’t align.
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