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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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“Hey! You were slacking off, weren’t you?!”
After running into Yellow in front of the arcade and entering together, the awkward air was thick enough to cut with a knife. I was worried about how to address it, but after just two games, things were back to normal.
“I landed a combo! See?!”
“You idiot! They were all blocked! Just pressing buttons doesn’t make it a combo!”
I had executed the commands correctly, as she said. But my opponent had blocked every single hit, the dull thud of blocked attacks echoing in the arcade.
“Why are you blocking?!”
“What, am I supposed to just stand there and get hit?”
We bickered across the console, the “You Lose” screen flashing between us, the awkwardness from our previous argument completely gone. Like the Korean saying, “The ground hardens after the rain,” our playful banter had intensified after our brief conflict.
But not everything was the same. The silence that followed our exchange felt heavy, oppressive.
It felt like I had to break the silence, to dispel the awkwardness. The quiet, heavy atmosphere brought back the tension from our argument.
“What are you doing? Insert your coins.”
“…Aren’t you hungry?”
“It’s already that late?”
We’d been arguing and playing non-stop since our second round, and it was lunchtime without us even realizing it. We’d been too engrossed in the game, and Yellow, checking the time at my mention of food, stood up.
“Let’s eat.”
“What are we having?”
“We’ll figure it out when we get outside.”
“It’s hot out there.”
“…”
Yellow, silenced by my complaint, came over and sat next to me. I figured we’d decide on a place before going out and looked at her as she scrolled through her phone. Our eyes met, and I remembered the cold stares we’d exchanged that day.
“Let’s get noodles.”
“Okay.”
We quickly decided on a simple lunch and left the arcade. We continued talking about games during our meal and then returned to the arcade. It was a Friday, so the crowd had grown, but we found two empty consoles and resumed our relentless battle.
The outcome was predictable; I lost, as always. My goal had shifted from winning to simply landing a hit, so the losses didn’t bother me as much. If I failed, I’d just keep trying until I succeeded.
“You’re playing seriously today.”
“I always play seriously.”
The sound of buttons mashing echoed in the arcade, and my character fell to the ground, defeated, once again.
“He’s really bad.”
I heard a voice behind me as I sat there, replaying the match in my head. It was the first time I’d heard someone openly criticize my gameplay, and I instinctively turned around. A heavyset man I’d never seen before was watching me play, blending in with the crowd.
While the voice had come from behind me, I knew it was him.
“What’s wrong?”
I kept my voice low, so only Yellow, sitting next to me, could hear, and she, seemingly oblivious to the man’s comment, amidst the cacophony of arcade sounds, just looked at me and asked.
“Nothing. I’m inserting more coins.”
“Okay, hurry up.”
I’d heard his initial comment but hadn’t paid much attention. But then his muttering continued, “He can’t even do that,” “He should just grab and break free,” “Just taking up space, why doesn’t he leave?”, and it started getting on my nerves.
It wasn’t the criticism itself that bothered me. He was right; I was bad at the game. It was his cowardly whispering, his backhanded comments meant only for those close enough to hear.
“…There are plenty of empty consoles.”
The arcade had plenty of fighting game consoles, and even with the Friday crowd, there were still several available.
I turned around and politely pointed this out, smiling, but the man ignored me, pretending he hadn’t said anything.
I was about to insert my coins and start another round with Yellow when she suddenly stood up.
“Why?”
I flinched at her sudden movement, but she didn’t answer, came over to my side, and glared at the man who’d been muttering behind me.
“I’ve been ignoring you, but you’ve been running your mouth non-stop behind someone playing a game. Do you want to die? If you’re going to play, find an empty console, you fat piece of shit.”
Her sudden outburst, a stream of curses, made me slightly nervous, even though it wasn’t directed at me. And I realized she wasn’t using her full vocabulary, her anger somewhat restrained.
“Hey, Su-a, calm down.”
The man, intimidated by her outburst, remained silent, and I, worried she might actually hit him, tried to calm her down. Superhumans weren’t allowed to harm civilians, but I doubted she’d care if she lost control.
“Let go. Hey, porky, weren’t you the one who was being a smartass earlier? Are you good at this game? Let’s play a round if you’re that confident.”
I couldn’t hold her back any longer and released my grip on her arm. The man, still silent, adjusted his glasses at her challenge. The onlookers, sensing the tension, backed away.
“I think I can beat this guy.”
He was clearly referring to me, the beginner. Su-a, knowing my skill level, just
“Fine. Play him.”
said.
“Huh?!”
I was the most surprised. While I didn’t know his skill level, my chances of beating a regular arcade-goer were slim.
“It’s okay, just play.”
Su-a sat next to me as the man sat down across from us.
“…Do you know him?”
I asked, curious about her earlier comment, and she frowned.
“Last month, or something? He was trying to give me unsolicited advice while I was playing, so I told him off.”
Last month wasn’t that long ago. I was grateful she’d even agreed to teach me after that incident.
“Do you think I can win?”
“What? Are you going to lose after being called a noob?”
“You call me that all the time.”
“I’m different!”
“Why?”
“Do you want to get hit?”
I shut up, seeing her clench her fist. I’d gotten used to her, after a week of “lessons,” and losing now would be a blow to my pride, as she’d just pointed out.
The game started, and he chose the character I’d been using, and losing to, since I started playing. He was probably trying to show off by beating me with my own character.
“What should I do?”
I mumbled to Su-a, but she remained silent. Giving unsolicited advice during a serious match was a cardinal sin, even to a beginner. Su-a had probably gotten angry because the man had been doing just that, muttering comments behind me.
‘I didn’t even hear him.’
I’d assumed I couldn’t hear him because of the noise, but it seemed Su-a had been trying to be considerate of the other arcade-goers.
“Ah.”
I chose the character Su-a used most often against me.
“Hey, you’ve never used that character before, have you?”
“I know the commands.”
I’d memorized the commands and combos from the videos. And I knew, from personal experience, how frustrating it was to play against this character.
The game started. He approached aggressively in the first round, and I blocked his attacks. He grabbed me, though, and I went down, followed by a low attack, and he backed away.
Fighting games required constant focus. You had to think and react instantly. I closed the distance as soon as my character got up, and as soon as I was within range, I launched a combo. Hit, hit. My fingers fumbled as I entered the fourth command; I’d momentarily confused it with the commands for my usual character.
I could practically feel Su-a frowning beside me.
I messed up the combo, and I lost the first round.
“Seriously, you’re so bad.”
His condescending remark made Su-a, not me, angry.
“That asshole.”
She frowned, then turned to me.
“Imagine it’s me you’re playing against.”
“Huh?”
“Imagine it’s me. Not that guy, but me on the other side.”
It was easier said than done. Su-a was right next to me, and a creepy, fat guy was sitting across from us. It was hard to imagine…
I was already annoyed by him, and the second round started.
‘Su-a’s across from me. Su-a’s across from me.’
I focused, imagining Su-a controlling the opposing character. His movements were sloppy, unlike Su-a’s precise control, and I saw myself in his frantic attempts to find an opening.
And I remembered Su-a’s combos, the ones that had effortlessly defeated me, and the moment I was within range, I launched into a series of attacks. A high combo, a low attack as he went down, a grab to deal damage and knock him down again.
The moment he got up, I used a teleport move to get behind him and launched another combo, ending with a launcher. His HP plummeted, and I finished him off with a super move as he fell. He was down, a sliver of health remaining.
I could hear his frantic button mashing as he tried to get up, then, the moment he stood up, a single punch.
The word “Perfect” flashed on the screen, my character’s HP bar full, signaling my victory. I’d won the second round, and Su-a, beside me, pumped her fist, celebrating my win. The third, final round began.
Unlike the previous round, he kept his distance, spamming projectile attacks. It was a common tactic for beginners, a cheap way to stall and frustrate your opponent. Su-a had recommended this character partly because of those cheap moves, but I’d never been able to use them effectively against her.
The projectile attacks caused a brief stun, but there was a delay after using them, a penalty. Su-a always timed her attacks perfectly, closing the distance and launching into a combo during that brief window of vulnerability. Could I do that? Could I avoid his cheap tactics and get close enough to attack?
Then I saw an opening, a tell I hadn’t noticed before when using this character. I didn’t need to look at my character; I knew the attack range and timing instinctively, having been on the receiving end countless times.
Su-a’s earlier advice, “Don’t look at your character,” flashed through my mind, and I had a realization.
‘The most infuriating playstyle is the one that’s most infuriating to me.’
I seized the opportunity, the moment he was vulnerable after his projectile attack, just like Su-a had done to me when I tried the same tactic, and launched into the same combo I’d used in the second round. Each attack, each movement, was a memory of my past defeats against Su-a, and I won the final round, securing my victory.
The word “Victory” flashed on the screen, my first ever victory against another player, and I stared at it, momentarily speechless.
Su-a, who’d been watching, was also silent, and we both turned, our eyes meeting, then we hugged each other, cheering.
“I won!”
“I told you you could do it!”
My first victory, achieved using the very tactics she’d used against me, was incredibly satisfying. I was still far from her level, but seeing her celebrate my win made me feel like I’d finally made some progress.
“That was some bullshit gameplay!”
I heard him slam his fist against the console. While it was clearly an insult, I felt a thrill. Su-a had said insulting someone’s gameplay was a compliment, and she was right.
“Using cheap tactics to win?! And playing with a superhuman!”
Su-a had been coming to this arcade for a long time. While she didn’t openly advertise her superhuman status, some people knew, and this asshole was clearly one of them.
He was trying to manipulate the situation, using her superhuman status to garner sympathy, his intentions obvious. But I knew prejudice against superhumans was rampant, so my first instinct was to leave.
While Su-a didn’t seem to mind her identity being revealed, the public reaction could be unpredictable. Being a superhuman came with limitations, so I had to be careful.
“So what?”
An unfamiliar voice from the crowd spoke.
“What a sore loser, whining after getting his ass kicked.”
“That guy’s always like that. He sucks at the game.”
“What does being a superhuman have to do with anything?”
The man, flustered by the unexpected backlash, looked around nervously.
“Dude, this guy’s a noob who’s been playing for less than a month.”
I didn’t know his name, but I recognized his face. He’d been standing behind me, silently watching, when I first challenged Su-a and got completely destroyed. He’d overheard our conversation, so he knew I was a beginner.
“That asshole’s back again. Giving unsolicited advice and then getting his ass kicked. Just get lost.”
The insults and jeers from the crowd made the man sweat, and he quickly left the arcade.
“Are you guys not playing anymore? I came to watch you two.”
“I wanted to see more of your banter.”
“I want to raise a noob, too!”
“I didn’t know watching a couple argue while playing games would be so entertaining.”
Su-a and I, who had been hugging, slowly pulled apart at the last comment, the compliments and cheers from the crowd echoing around us.
“There are a lot of nice people here.”
“…There are.”
Even Su-a, usually so detached, had been aware of the onlookers, but she hadn’t realized their intentions. We continued playing, the crowd now more comfortable, laughing whenever we bickered.
We finally left the arcade as dusk settled in. While I’d lost every match against Su-a, the thrill of my first victory still lingered.
We walked towards her place, excitedly recounting the events of the day.
“I almost landed that combo; I was just a little too slow.”
“Almost doesn’t count. You missed the timing, noob.”
While I knew her words were meant to be playful, I no longer felt the sting of her insults.
We continued our conversation, rewinding the events of the day, until we reached our awkward encounter at the arcade that morning, and the silence, which we’d forgotten during our excitement, returned.
We were having fun, and if we just ignored it, we’d probably forget about our argument and go back to playing games, as usual. But because of that, because I enjoyed being with her, I had to apologize.
But I’d missed my chance, and we arrived at her apartment.
We bought snacks, went inside, and turned on the game console. It was only my third time here, but I felt comfortable enough to unpack the food and set it up on the table.
Seeing the game loading on the screen, holding the controller in my hand, the memory of our argument became even more vivid.
“Hey.”
“Um…”
We spoke at the same time.
“You go first.”
“Uh? Oh.”
I swallowed hard, ready to apologize, took a deep breath, and just as I was about to speak,
“Sorry.”
“I’m sorry!”
We’d spoken at the same time, both apologizing.
“Sorry… for what?”
“Why are you apologizing to me?”
We looked at each other, puzzled, then burst out laughing.
Silly arguments were a natural part of any friendship. Having finally apologized, it felt like a weight had been lifted, and we were just… friends. Su-a also seemed to feel the same way, her laughter bordering on tears, and she wiped her eyes as she calmed down.
“Ah, my stomach hurts. Fuck.”
“There’s that language again.”
I couldn’t resist teasing her, and she playfully punched my arm.
“Can’t I even curse to myself?”
“Oh, you want a round two?”
I struck a fighting game pose, and she responded in kind, our laughter echoing in the apartment. We rolled around on the sofa, unable to contain our amusement.
“Hey, it’s starting.”
We caught our breath, saw the game had loaded, grabbed our controllers, and resumed our battle.
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