The problem with these guys, first of all, was their field of vision. In a normal game, their sight was wide enough, but in speed mode, it fell short. Speed mode uses maps less than half the size of a standard map to force quick engagements and end the game fast. On top of that, it creates plenty of angles to fight from, encouraging even more confrontations.
"First, we need to get used to this."
"Understood."
The GG players were younger than me, and with me being both their coach and a senior, I spoke freely. The others said they were fine with it too, so I didn't hold back.
"Then I'll make a custom game and start coaching there."
"Understood."
I immediately created a custom game, invited the others, and moved everyone to one location. It was the same place where the GG players had been wiped out earlier.
"Everyone, stand in the same positions as before."
As I said this, the players quickly moved into the spots they'd been in right before dying. Once everyone was in position, I continued.
"You're probably wondering why you died earlier. I'm going to show you."
"How should we do that?"
"Equip the same gear you had in the last round, turn off invincibility, then enable auto-respawn."
After confirming that everyone had set up, I switched to spectator mode, hid, and moved to another position. The coach had been observing us from the start in spectator mode. Unlike normal games, his field of vision wasn't fixed, so he could gather much more information.
Once I settled into position, I disabled invincibility and equipped my weapons.
'Basic gear should be enough.'
With my weapons ready, I moved quietly along the angles without making a sound. The players were as cautious as they could be, scanning their surroundings, but to me, it was just adorable. I prepared calmly and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
Sparks flew from my rifle, and the kill feed popped up.
['Moka' has died.]
As one team member fell, the others immediately fell into chaos. Moka respawned instantly, but even he got caught in the confusion.
'How many times do I have to kill them before they notice my position?'
I thought as I placed my finger on the trigger again, this time aiming at another player.
Bang!
['Mincho' has died.]
I didn't stop after one kill. I kept pulling the trigger.
Bang bang bang!
['Magus' has died.]
['Killingbird' has died.]
['Mincho' has died.]
. . .
The players' kill feed kept rising. They checked their surroundings immediately upon respawning, trying to find me, but I killed them before they could locate me. It felt satisfying, so I didn't stop firing. After about five minutes, I finally paused.
"Alright. That's enough!"
I deliberately called it out loudly to show them my position. Only then did the players look toward me, their faces full of shock.
"You… you were shooting from there?"
"Yes."
The spot I'd fired from wasn't far. It was just the rooftop of the building next to the one they were hiding in. But the reason they were so startled was simple.
"Shouldn't we be invisible from that rooftop?"
It was all about vision. After years as a pro, players can instantly judge whether they'll be seen from a particular angle. They assumed that from this rooftop, I couldn't see them, so they didn't even look my way. Seeing my position stunned them even more.
"Coach, I think it'd be better if you explained this than me."
I spoke into the sky, and the coach exited spectator mode and appeared next to the players. He seemed amused by the situation, smiling at the scene.
"Now I get why speed mode ends so fast. I never imagined there could be an angle like that."
"Coach, what do you mean?"
"You can't see, but there's an angle over there that allows someone to see you completely."
The players stiffened and immediately came over to where I was. Once there, they looked back at the places they'd been.
"We still can't see anything."
"Look a little higher than there."
"Higher?"
They adjusted their view slightly above their previous positions—and finally understood how I could see them.
"A mirror…?"
"Yes. I saw you through a mirror and shot at you."
I'd reflected the location they were in using the broken building's gaps and the angle of the mirror above. It was an utterly unfair angle. They couldn't see me, but I could see them. In a normal game, this angle wouldn't exist.
'But speed mode is different.'
For players who want the game to end quickly, unfair angles didn't matter much. That's why speed mode had so many spots like this. And this was the first lesson I was giving them.
"In speed mode, you must never stop moving. Forget the habits from a normal game. If you can't do that, winning against S1 is impossible."
There were no sweet words. What they needed now wasn't encouragement but a clear understanding of their weaknesses. That's why I mentioned their rival, S1, expecting it would push them harder.
"Do we need a moment to gather our thoughts before starting practice?"
"No, let's start immediately."
"We absolutely cannot lose to S1."
"Let's go right away."
"I won't forgive losing to them."
Their astonishing resolve caught me off guard, making me feel almost overwhelmed, even though I was the one giving instructions.
"Then… shall we start now?"
Slightly stunned by their determination, I immediately dove into training. I was surprised, but I focused properly. This first session would focus on finishing farming in Paro properly and exiting the city. The judgment of success was left to the coach, not me. If I handled it, viewers might complain. So I left the strategy and judgment to the person leading the players.
I equipped the M16, a simple and manageable weapon, and prepared to target the players. I would take shots at any visible angle or engage normally if we met head-on.
'The difference between the players and me is that I can keep respawning while they only have one life.'
Once ready, I reopened donations and chat. I'd closed them earlier to focus, but now it was fine to check them.
―Oh? He's opening the chat stream!
―Finally, we can interact with him!
―It's been ages since I saw that angle.
―That's a classic angle; can't believe they don't know it. So obvious they're beginners.
―If this went to an event match like this, we'd have lost to S1 for sure.
['HallasanCheonji' donated 100,000 won!]
[Please take care of our players! Coach!]
['KimchiMandu' donated 10,000 won!]
[Speed mode master!]
['MagusThumb' donated 10,000 won!]
[Please take good care of our Magus oppa!]
. . .
The chat scrolled so fast I barely had time to check it. The amount of donations was impressive. Viewers were approaching a thousand. Most would leave after the stream, but just showing my presence was enough. I smiled and said,
"Today, I won't be doing missions or reactions, but I hope you enjoy watching."
While waiting for everyone to prepare, I decided to talk a bit. Just chatting would be boring, so I went with a Q&A.
"I'll take the first three donation questions on a first-come, first-served basis."
Immediately, questions flooded in, and I picked the first three.
['fakfwu' donated 1,000 won!]
[How did you become a temporary coach?]
A direct question from the start. I answered honestly. Of course, I had already gotten approval from the coach, HallasanCheonji, and the team. Mistakes could damage the team's image.
"Kim Dongseok, the team's manager, is a fan of mine who goes by HallasanCheonji. He's followed me for a long time and knew I was skilled at speed mode, so he asked me to be a temporary coach."
I expected some negative reactions, but the response was surprisingly positive.
―Makes sense; they'd want someone proven.
―If even a pro team manager trusts him, he must be good.
―The manager has a good eye.
―Without him, our guys would have definitely lost to S1.
There was a lot of faith in the manager's judgment. Of course, not everyone was positive; the negative responses were actually more common.
―This is just nepotism, isn't it?
―Does it feel good to get in because of connections when someone didn't want to coach?
―With trash like this beside our guys, we'll definitely lose to S1.
―Who taught you to take someone else's spot through connections? Your parents?
There were mindless insults and even over-the-line attacks on parents. Getting a coaching position through connections naturally drew criticism. I expected insults, but I didn't expect parent attacks.
'Still, attacking parents is too much.'
I immediately "sliced" at the viewer attacking my parents. In Korea, you can tolerate insults at yourself, but not your parents. Many others crossed the line too, so I spent 2–3 minutes actively dealing with them.
"Next question."
After finishing that, I casually moved on to the next donation.
['KillingbirdFeather' donated 1,000 won!]
[How many rounds have you played in speed mode?]
"How many rounds?"
A tricky question. I'd played too many to count, so I couldn't give an exact number. I gave a rough estimate.
"I've played over 100,000 rounds. Not sure of the exact number."
Satisfied that the answer was enough, I moved to the next question.
['CaterpillarCute' donated 1,000 won!]
[Which team do you support in Killground?]
A question I expected would come up in a Q&A. Which team do I support? For fans, nothing was more important. Answering GG could anger other team fans, answering another team could upset GG fans.
'I need to answer carefully.'
I thought for a moment, then slowly opened my mouth.
"The team I support is…"