NOVEL NEXT Chapter 22
Wild and Lee Jun felt dizzy.
Some might say,
What’s there to be shocked about?
After all, they only knew each other through an internet connection—a tenuous connection at best.
But that’s easy for someone who doesn’t know their story to say.
The time they spent together was far from brief, and the bond they shared was anything but shallow.
At least, that’s what Jun thought it was.
Until now.
Until he realized that the Legendary he knew wasn’t just Legendary—they were a woman. He had never, not even for a second, imagined that.
‘Why? Wait, no. It’s not like I need to know. She didn’t have to tell me her gender, right?’
He’d heard before—how sometimes female gamers pretended to be men.
Because in many games, women were rare and tended to attract attention, whether positive or negative. Some enjoyed the attention, but others actively disliked it so much that they hid their gender and pretended to be male.
He had heard of it before.
But he never thought it was real.
Not this close.
Not someone right next to him, especially not someone who went as far as to use voice modulation to deceive others.
At least with a man pretending to be a woman to scam items, that would be easier to understand.
Was it really that hard to be a female gamer?
‘Sure is a diverse world out there, isn’t it?’
Still in shock, it was hard for Jun to maintain his composure.
And then, out of nowhere, Sol—the real identity of Legendary—switched her broadcast to her phone to show her hand.
A hand that was small, delicate, and undeniably feminine.
She even measured it with a ruler to show its size.
‘13 centimeters? How small is that?’
Not many people memorize the length of their own hands, but Jun remembered something.
There was a time he used his fingers as makeshift rulers to measure objects easily.
‘My index finger alone was over 10 centimeters.’
Standing at 186 centimeters, Jun had often been told he was tall, with big hands and an imposing physique. Recalling the fact that his middle finger was over 10 centimeters gave him a clearer understanding of just how small a 13-centimeter hand really was.
‘That’s basically a kid’s hand. Like an elementary school kid’s?’
They were both adults, but the idea that someone else’s hands could be half the size of his was both hard to believe and fascinating.
Was she maybe half his height too?
No, even that seemed unrealistic when he really thought about it.
Trying to visualize what Legendary—this woman—looked like in real life proved impossible.
—
“Wild.”
“Huh?”
A voice as natural as an old friend, calling his name. Only, it was a woman’s voice, and it felt strangely out of place.
“Help me with this verification broadcast. I need to keep my camera on my hand, so you’ll have to show the game from your side.”
“O-Okay.”
Jun had also heard an absurd rumor that Victory, the Pro, was hiding their identity from Sol.
It didn’t make sense to him.
How could someone not know the famous Victory?
But then, what if Legendary was a woman?
And Jun had no clue.
All the time they spent together hadn’t tipped him off at all.
So, is it possible that she was also unaware Victory was a pro too?
Well, given everything, it seemed plausible.
TEAM PROUD—a strong team with victories on their resume, known for their impressive performances in international tournaments.
Their leader, TP Wild, the world-class star, was now streaming—not as intended but to help his longtime friend explain herself.
‘If I do this, I might get in trouble.’
Though his streaming schedule was tightly managed by the team, he couldn’t bring himself to ask for permission in front of his friend.
He’d probably just get scolded. No way would they really punish him for this.
And so, TP Wild started his stream. Naturally absorbing the 4,000 viewers from Sol’s channel, thousands more started to trickle in.
[Woha!(Wild Hourglass)]
[What’s going on? This isn’t stream time.]
[What’s the title? D:]
[Is this an explanation stream? What happened?]
“I don’t know much either.”
Swallowing the words at the tip of his tongue, Jun realized the situation was like a tidal wave of chaos—swift, overwhelming, and incomprehensible until it was too late.
“Also, you should be on the opposing side for balance, but then I’d have no one to show my screen. Be the observer for me.”
In Teamfight Arena, observers often had a 3-minute delay to prevent cheating by revealing enemy positions in real-time, but Magical Fight had no such rule—only a real-time observer mode to let people watch the action unfold.
Maybe it was because Magical Fight felt less structured, more like a folk game among friends, or perhaps it was due to technical challenges since it was a game embedded within another.
“I’ll play under the solo rules. But you only have to target me. Everyone else, don’t worry about it.”
Magical Fight’s solo rules: Everyone fought against everyone else. The winning condition was reaching 30 kill points first, but with the reduced point requirement, the game would be faster-paced and far more aggressive.
“Anyone who takes my kill gets 100,000 won.”
An audacious challenge, indeed.
“Hey, isn’t that a bit excessive?”
It wasn’t just a 1 vs. 9 situation anymore.
With her offer, she transformed the fight into an actual 1 vs. 9 match. Including the four members of her supposed “team,” there were now nine players actively aiming for her head.
“Does she really think she could give that easily?”
“!!!”
That person. That voice saying those kinds of things—it shouldn’t be allowed.
[Is this what we call an explainer stream?]
[Seriously, guys, we need to chill.]
[Who’s the handsome guy staring at the screen?]
[Heeee-heeeeee-heeeeeeee!]
“Ahhh, crap.”
Realizing her slip-up or just seeing the flood of chaotic comments, Sol muttered a curse under her breath. A delicate finger twitched, the gap between appearance and voice wider than acceptable norms.
[Does this person swear well or…?]
[You’re getting your prize soon!]
[Why is this person helping with someone else’s stream?]
[Who’s the voice chat partner?]
[Fingers? What’s with the digits? When did Wild become a she??]
[Is this really Wild? Hahaha!]
‘When is this deluge going to end?’
Why should the shame belong to Wild? Nine brave warriors—though, thinking rationally, mere sacrifices destined to fall to Sol—all gathered. And the game began.
At first, nothing extraordinary happened during the farming phase.
Around the five-minute mark:
Clackity-clack!
A barrage of rapid keyboard strokes.
[Is this person playing piano?]
[This game is secretly a rhythm game, right?]
[What’s going on with the speed?]
[Anyway, something incredible is happening here…]
[WOW]
Sol often said Teamfight Arena was too easy, with character limits so defined it was like switching from driving an F1 car to pulling a cart.
This F1 racing prodigy had now returned to what they knew best. Just watching the speed of their fingertips alone inspired awe—like seeing the invisible racer beneath the cart pushing with unparalleled effort.
“That’s our Legendary, alright.”
The player was pressing more than three keys per second consistently, and the combat lasted for over ten seconds without faltering. Meanwhile, their other hand expertly controlled the mouse.
A feat any observer would find incredible—a brain or a set of hands would surely give out under that pressure, yet here she stood unbroken.
“Really? Look at this.”
A 7v1 team fight erupted, yet she effortlessly wiped out the entire team, walking away gracefully. Even with Wild’s observer assistance, giving away the entire map, none could touch her.
[Would a game where a 7v1 team fight can be won still be trash?]
Well, opinions vary. For physical monsters like Sol who loved heroics, there was no better game.
“Mmm…”
A joyful hum escaped her lips—a person who preferred not to engage in mass killings. Yet, in this moment, with over 7,000 viewers watching, she felt the need to prove herself.
[She hums while playing!]
[Fallen in love!]
[Who exactly is this?]
[Situation explanation: During a duo stream, a streamer was mistakenly banned for proxy play but revealed they were female via voice modulation and began playing to prove they were truly the player they were known as.]
[Oh, thank you for explaining!]
[But why not Teama?]
[Teama is banned, allegedly.]
[Aha.]
[Stop lying!]
[But this happened in real life!]
The game ended much faster than expected.
With nine players exclusively targeting her, could it last long?
30 kills, 0 deaths.
Proven.
Unfortunately, there was no 100,000 won winner from her challenge.
“Again, greetings. I am indeed Sol. I apologize for any confusion caused by the voice modulation.”
[A donation of 100,000 won was made by Infinity Korea.]
“Wild player, Sol account holder’s ban has been lifted. Please relay the message. We sincerely apologize for this inconvenience. An apology statement will be posted today.”
Real or fake?
Just checking the game client would reveal the truth, but the donation of 100,000 won made Wild believe the official game company was indeed behind it.
This led to one thought:
‘Seriously? She didn’t even open the donation yet? What a strange person.’
Sol really wasn’t even accepting donations during her stream!
She truly looked like a complete rookie, both in streaming and gaming.
‘But is this really true?’
What Jun thought was obviously a male with undeniable skill turned out to be a woman, delicate in every way, with hands as small and refined as they were.
Yet, it was true.
Proven just moments ago.
‘What kind of chaos have I gotten myself into?’
Jun still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the situation.