Why do people play games? When this question is posed, the answers vary greatly.
Typically, responses include hobbies, habits formed since childhood, the sense of achievement when winning, or competitive spirit, but a simple answer encompassing all these is that it’s fun.
Everything boils down to the word “fun.” Because it’s entertaining, games are popular, and people play them because they’re enjoyable.
I was not much different.
The reason I first got into gaming was trivial. My friends were doing it, so I followed suit. The very first game I played was Maple Story, a popular title by Company N. Hitting mushrooms and snails, that simple system gave me a certain thrill as a child.
I quickly immersed myself in this playful pursuit. Initially an RPG, I soon began to play across different genres.
I hunted monsters to strengthen my character and ruthlessly took down enemies with guns and swords. Sometimes, I became a Great Ruler, maneuvering numerous units while strategizing.
As I engaged in the goals set by each game genre, before I knew it, the sun would have set.
My decent understanding and concentration allowed me to immerse myself in games, and I grew while savoring the true essence of gaming.
Of course, it wasn’t always enjoyable. Being human, there were times I would get tired of games, and occasionally I found myself feeling disillusioned while playing. Most often, this feeling arose when I lost in games.
As time passed, I grew older, and my passion and enjoyment for gaming dwindled.
Being busy with life led to fewer gaming days, which only amplified this feeling.
Nevertheless, I would occasionally turn on the computer on holidays like it was homework.
I dared not play newly released games and logged into the old games I had played before.
Though my once skilled hands and brain couldn’t perform at the same level anymore, I still showcased my experience and bagged victories.
After immersing myself in gaming for a while, I felt a slight liberation from the problems surrounding me.
After catching my breath for a moment, I found the strength to face reality again.
Fun is one reason I love games, but it’s not the only one.
During gameplay, the worries that cause headaches vanish.
This was true even now.
When I woke up, I had suddenly become an unknown woman, and I had no idea how to return. I couldn’t even contact those around me. What happened to the real ‘me’, and what should I do going forward?
I turned on the game to escape the overwhelming thoughts.
And the game quickly revealed its effects on me.
Bang!
The crisp sound of gunfire sliced through the air. Soon, a kill log appeared in the upper right corner, indicating I had taken down an opponent.
Shortly thereafter, my allies were falling, but that didn’t matter.
In fact, it felt good.
Perhaps it was because I hadn’t played in a while, but the tactile feedback was fantastic. As I concentrated on the game, my blurred vision cleared, allowing me to see far into the distance.
Was it because of Ji-eun’s body? A tiny question lingered in my mind, but I didn’t care about that right now.
I pulled the trigger again.
*
“No way, this can’t be happening!”
A woman was fuming at her monitor. The screen displayed the moment she had been taken down. A character’s head was pierced by a bullet, falling powerless.
[Bugger cut!]
[Already dead just 30 seconds into the game]
[This stream is weird; the screen keeps showing in black and white]
[Me]
[Why do I keep getting shot in the head?]
[Dead Artist Sua ㄷㄷ]
[Season 1258423 extreme rage]
[Rak]
[Can’t play, but there’s a lot of talk here]
[So ugly, Sua]
“It’s not that I can’t play; that person’s just good, you know?”
The woman was visibly frustrated as she stared at her monitor. At a glance, it looked like she was talking to herself, but she was addressing someone who truly existed, connected through the network.
With various sound devices, including a microphone, and the lighting showcased from behind, she was a streamer.
To put it simply, she was an internet broadcaster.
She could communicate with viewers watching her live broadcast over the internet from anywhere.
Currently, Ji-eun, who had just died, was also a streamer.
Streamer Sua.
She hosted gaming broadcasts as her main content on the international giant streaming site Switch, attracting a significant viewer base.
And now she was being mocked live.
[Didn’t you say you’d carry here, Sua? lol]
[Wait, I said I’d carry, lol]
[1/10/3: Gold? You can win there just by closing your eyes]
[100 kills 3 assists ㄷㄷ; teammates can’t keep up with Sua’s level]
[Is there a Diamond getting stomped in Gold?]
[Totally behaves like that]
[Change the title of your stream]
In fact, her being mocked this way was a result of her own doing. Just looking at the title of her stream made that clear.
– “Gold Rats’ Public Execution, Plating Sprint”
It was just a subtle way to attract attention. A small promotion to her viewers, letting them know she was engaging in this kind of content.
In reality, this level of sensationalism was minor. Truly sensational broadcasts had provocative titles from the start.
To survive in the grueling broadcasting industry, something uniquely special to her streams was necessary. Capturing viewers who flit between various streams according to their tastes wasn’t easy.
Still, Sua had managed to accomplish that to some extent. With her pretty looks, pleasant voice, and respectable gaming skills, she possessed all the elements viewers liked, building her own dedicated audience.
The content she occasionally produced revolving around leveling up her alternate characters received a fairly good response.
It was nothing spectacular but decent enough that the viewers wouldn’t just leave.
In truth, presenting such public execution as content does not garner good feedback. It scared away new players, which are crucial for the game’s growth. Moreover, in an industry where image matters, specializing strictly in public execution could carry significant risks.
Aware of that, Sua only occasionally conducted this type of content, having a safety measure in the form of leveling alternate accounts.
What she was experiencing now was the first time she encountered this situation while running those alternate character leveling sessions.
[That guy’s really good; how many saves has he already done?]
“Right! That person is definitely not someone around here. Isn’t he a professional alternate character?”
Seeing a chat defending her amid the mocking remarks, Sua began to justify herself.
Not so much as excuses; she genuinely believed that.
Agent of War.
That was the name of the game Sua was currently playing.
Agent of War, or Eo War for short, was a popular game that had secured a solid place even years after its release.
It was classified as a hyper FPS. The term implying it went beyond traditional FPS meant it featured gaming styles never heard of or seen before.
When most people think of FPS, they envision bloody battles and the echoing sounds of gunfire. Eo War shattered that perception.
While it retained the aim system typical to FPS games, the battlefields of Eo War were filled with flashy magical effects as well as bullets.
Within the game, numerous characters called agents existed, each possessing unique skills and features.
A wizard casting fireballs, a ninja throwing shurikens, and an assassin taking down foes with daggers, it mixed characters that felt right at home in other games.
Though some described it as a mix similar to ‘kimchi pizza sweet and sour pork,’ the diversity in characters allowed for various ways to play.
Such game features gained significant popularity among old gamers who craved something different and now placed it among the upper ranks of PC bang (internet café) popularity.
However, as time passed, with new agents appearing and skills and capabilities becoming more complex, the game itself became more difficult.
Players needed to be familiar with each agent’s unique skills and weapon attributes while also comprehending the terrain of the maps that changed every game round.
Adding skills to the existing FPS madness ramped up the chaotic conditions even further.
In that environment, accurately aiming at enemies and coordinating with teammates required considerable skill.
There were many new players who naïvely thought, “This game looks fun” but ended up getting their heads blown off by agents that flew around and vanished.
What more can be said? The game of Eo War had stagnated.
Sua’s skill level was at the lower end of the average Diamond tier.
Of the nine tier ranks from Iron to Challenger, she sat in the sixth position. Having been an old user who played since the early days of Eo War, her skills were decently proficient.
While viewers mocked her about “carrying,” deep down, they knew she had shown her skills over her streaming sessions.
The chatter in the chat seemed to agree with her somewhat.
[Is this real, Pro?]
[Professional alternate character entry lol]
[Do you think pros are that common? They’re too busy practicing]
[In the first place, pros start with super accounts and wouldn’t come to this tier]
[She plays well; that’s true for the alternate character]
“The aim doesn’t make sense. Look at this.”
Sua replayed the video of her being taken down for the viewers. In the clip from the shooter’s perspective, her agent was taken down helplessly.
If she had lost after a fierce battle, it wouldn’t have stung as much.
However, her opponent toyed with her, performing near-acrobatic moves before piercing her head.
Using one of the notoriously challenging weapons, the sniper, at that.
Mollru 13/0/4
A mysterious expert who allowed not a single death. That cryptic nickname was somehow infuriating.
[Look at this person’s stats, Sua; it’s insane]
[They have to be an alternate character, right?]
[What’s that? Search quickly ㄱㄱ]
“Moll…ru? How do you even read that?”
Following the viewers’ input, Sua searched for the expert’s stats, secretly feeling a sense of relief. If this truly were an upper-tier player’s alternate account, there would be a way out. Judging by the viewers’ intrigue, it was probably an alternate account.
With that mindset, Sua searched for the stats and gasped slightly.
“Wow… who is this person?”
13 wins 0 losses.
The record screen was entirely painted blue. Even after the initial five placement matches that determined the tier, they had continued winning straight through, all with overwhelming carries.
Sua was merely a victim swept up in that overwhelming tide. By now, the viewers had ceased mocking her.
[What the heck is this?]
[Are they really a pro? ㄷㄷ]
[No, it’s not that Sua was bad; how can you beat a Challenger’s alternate character?]
[They’re not just using one agent; they’re handling them all diversely]
[A mysterious expert who appeared in the Gold tier; a YouTube clip is already in the making]
[Let’s friend them and ask who they are]
It was undeniably clear they were an alternate character. They toyed with Sua, who was at the Diamond tier, meaning they were certainly an upper-tier player. The thought that they might be a well-known top player began surfacing among the viewers and Sua as they speculated about the person’s identity.
[Isn’t it Jung-Hun? The only one using a sniper at a high tier]
[Jung-Hun wouldn’t perform like this, lol; he gets bused in Master too]
[Don’t mention Ma-Dak]
[But they aren’t just using a sniper; they also use daggers and bows. Can we guess who this is?]
[It must be Dae-sik, the Weapon Master]
[Dae-sik]
[Dae-sik is protecting Eo War! Dae-sik is protecting Eo War!]
Before long, the chat had shifted to discussions about who the mysterious expert could be. Sua, too, paused her commentary, deep in thought about this person’s identity.
The atmosphere was ruptured by one single message.
[What if it’s just a hack? Even high Challengers couldn’t do that]
“Hack?”
Sua’s voice echoed through the microphone within the booth.
