KYB Ch 31

The momentary silence was shattered as spectator chat suddenly burst back to life.

The spectators’ reactions grew even enthusiastic. Before he could even fully scan the messages, the chat was already racing upward in a blur. Moving his mouse cursor to check the room information, Ye Woo-won widened his eyes.

‘When did it…’

It was only 7 spectators at the beginning of the game, but before he knew it, the number had climbed to 12. And they were all eagerly chattering about the Territory War that had just unfolded.

Ye Woo-won shifted his gaze and stared at his own hands.

‘…They really are shaking.’

He had been so focused that he didn’t even realize his hands were trembling from excitement and tension. Letting out a small sigh of disbelief, he soon burst into a light laugh.

The adrenaline from the previous round still pulsed in his body.

When was the last time he felt something like this?

Was it when he killed a newly released boss for the first time? Or when his favorite team won a match in a sport he liked? Or maybe when he achieved some milestone at work?

“Yeah. This is actually a problem.”

Ye Woo-won closed his eyes and replayed the moment.

With Kisekki, his hands and feet felt like they were a single, perfectly synced body. The moment he wished to move somewhere, Kisekki was already there, moving exactly as he imagined. When Kisekki ran into the base with the flag, he had even forgotten to breathe for a split second.

“How am I even supposed to do this when I’m by myself now?”

He found himself saying this aloud without realizing it, struck by the thought of how pleasant and fun it was to play while teamed up with a skilled player. It was true in every sense. Unless he was playing with someone as skilled as Kisekki, he could never experience this level of catharsis.

-“…”

However, unlike Ye Woo-won, who was still excited from winning the previous round, Kisekki remained entirely quiet. Ye Woo-won glanced over at Kisekki’s avatar, who hadn’t said a single word for a while now, as if trying to read his mood.

‘…Does he dislike hearing this kind of thing?’

With the other man being so quiet, Ye Woo-won, who had been excitedly rambling just moments ago, felt a touch of solemnity wash over him and grew a bit embarrassed. After all, this was his first time in a Territory War, and also the first time he had ever worked so well in sync with a teammate.

But that probably wouldn’t be the case for Kisekki.

‘It may not be that way for me, but for Kisekki-nim, this could be just another ordinary day.’

He fought Territory Wars for the guild almost every day. And since the guild mates he played with were all skilled as well, it was obvious that playing the game with someone like Ye Woo-won wouldn’t be anything new to him.

‘Well then…’

He accepted the silence quickly. Maybe Kisekki was about to say something like: “Of course we win. Why’re you overreacting over one round?”

Thinking that Kisekki would definitely comment, Ye Woo-won kept watching the screen.

But no matter how long he waited…

-“…”

Kisekki showed no reaction.

“Kisekki-nim?”

It was so quiet—too quiet—that Ye Woo-won finally called out to him.

He expected at least some snarky remark, but Kisekki still said nothing.

‘He’s not using his mic. Did he turn it off?’

He clicked the mic window to check. But Kisekki’s microphone was still on.

‘It sounds like he muted his mic for a moment.’

Should he mute his own, too? Ye Woo-won glanced at the seat beside him.

The noisy student next to him had apparently gone to the restroom, so the seat was empty. But he didn’t know when he’d return and start shouting again, so leaving the mic on felt risky.

‘But coordinating for a Territory War through chat isn’t realistic.’

He’d realized during the last round just how big the difference was between using voice and not using voice. Unlike regular raids—where bosses had predictable patterns—Territory Wars were entirely different.

There were simply too many moments that required quick decisions and immediate action, so using a mic seemed essential during a Territory War.

‘Still, it might get noisy, so I should ask first.’

Thinking it over, Ye Woo-won cautiously called to him.

“Kisekki-nim. Are you there?”

No reply, but he slowly continued.

“I’m in a PC café, so it might get a little noisy. Would it be okay to still use the mic for the Territory War? If it bothers you, then—”

If Kisekki said it bothered him, he was going to say he’d just turn it off.

But the reply appeared immediately— so sudden after all that silence that it startled Ye Woo-won.

And the message felt oddly quick, almost rushed.

‘So he was there after all. But… I still couldn’t tell. Does he mean turn it on, or turn it off…?’

When he was about to ask what he meant, Kisekki added.

It was unexpected. Ye Woo-won was sure he’d say “turn it off.”

Of course, he had no way of knowing what Kisekki meant by telling him to turn on his mic. Whether Kisekki had reluctantly allowed it for the sake of winning, or whether he didn’t care at all and was telling him to do as he pleased, he couldn’t tell.

But it didn’t matter. Seeing that chat message somehow made him laugh, his lips curving on their own.

‘It almost feels like I can hear his voice.’

He kept feeling as though that blunt way of speaking was coming through a mic and reaching him directly.

‘At least he doesn’t seem annoyed.’

Before he could think any further, Round 4 began.

Realizing he spent the whole waiting time talking instead of planning a strategy, Ye Woo-won looked a bit embarrassed.

‘We didn’t actually discuss anything properly… Why does time move so fast whenever I’m with Kisekki-nim?’

Was the waiting time always this short? Even if time was subjective, this didn’t make sense.

He let out a low, breathy laugh, as if he found his thought ridiculous, and at that moment, Kisekki’s avatar, who had been charging forward with him, suddenly stumbled for a split second. Naturally, Ye Woo-won didn’t notice it.

‘Seems like they’re going for a stealth approach this time.’

It was because he was focused on locating the enemy team.

They had made it all the way to the center of the map, yet there was still no sign of anyone. That could only mean one thing: this time, ITrustCactus and Nyamnyangi weren’t planning a frontal assault. They were clearly aiming for an ambush—or trying to shoot arrows at his and Kisekki’s heads to kill them in a single blow.

He glanced at Kisekki. Kisekki seemed to be thinking the same—keeping guard behind them and slowly hiding his—

‘What the? Why is he just staring blankly at me?’

He wasn’t…

Kisekki was openly, almost brazenly, revealing himself and just staring blankly at Yewoo Beomjeol. Ye Woo-won stared back at Kisekki’s tall, pitch-black character in bafflement, unable to grasp what was going on, and was just starting to slowly open his mouth. However…

—“Hey.”

A low voice vibrated through his headset. Kisekki had suddenly turned on his mic. Confused as to why he was calling him, Ye Woo-won glanced around instinctively.

‘Did something appear, and he’s warning me?’

But there was nothing— Not even footsteps.

‘No enemies yet. Then… does he have something to brief?’

Even if no enemies have appeared yet and there’s nothing to brief, they can still plan out their strategy.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, Kisekki broke the brief silence.

—“Why aren’t you talking?”

“Talking?”

Talking about… what? Ye Woo-won blinked, unable to guess what Kisekki meant.

‘Was I supposed to say something?’

But no matter how he tried, he couldn’t think of what.

While he was scrambling through possibilities, Kisekki let out a low sigh as if wondering how Ye Woo-won could not know, and said.

—“Well, I…”

After a short hesitation, his low, husky voice stretched lazily—

—“What am I supposed to do now.”

The curt tone brushed against Ye Woo-won’s ear first.