Gwanjongcheonma’s Game Broadcast - Chapter 160

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 160
“…….”
The Capsule’s door had opened long ago.
But Go Jin-ha didn’t budge from his seat.
He’d lost in skill,
and his pride had been trampled flat.
An opponent who’d approached defenseless, saying he’d let himself be caught.
He should never have answered that bait, no matter how much it stung,
but Go Jin-ha snapped it up anyway.
And in doing so, he’d recorded the most shameful defeat in National Team Selection Tournament history.
“……hey.”
Go Jin-ha thought he heard something calling to him.
But he didn’t care anymore.
He just wanted the Earth to collapse right then and there.
“Go Jin-ha! Snap out of it, you bastard!”
“……what?”
“So the first round’s shot — fine. But you want to get us disqualified too? Get out here, now!”
The second player of ‘Singularity 1’.
Lee Hee-dong shook Go Jin-ha’s shoulder hard.
Only then did Go Jin-ha come to his senses and stand up.
“What a pathetic display. Not enough that you got demolished as vanguard — now you’re poisoning the whole atmosphere?”
Go Jin-ha’s face was no longer that of the living.
But Lee Hee-dong hurled his barbs at the back of his retreating teammate anyway.
The air reeked of discord.
“Vanguard…… vanguard…….”
Go Jin-ha, mumbling with vacant eyes, suddenly snapped his head up.
Right.
That was it.
He could have won even without the handicap — that was why Hae-rang had approached defenseless in the first place.
‘To create an atmosphere like this……!’
He’d thrown away his pride and suffered a perfect defeat.
Twice in a row.
Team Heavenly Demon Divine Cult looked like they were having a festival from where they stood,
while this side looked even more funeral-like.
“I’m sorry…….”
Go Jin-ha returned to the player’s bench.
His apology crawled out in a small, broken voice.
Perhaps because the sound was so quiet.
None of the two remaining players offered him any comfort.
* * *
“Hah!”
Each time the crisp sound of Bung-ta rang out,
a searing impact thundered through the speaker.
Bang!
“Ugh!”
At the same moment, a groan of such visceral pain escaped that those watching felt their toes curl.

Autumn leaves scattering in the wind.
The phrase fit Singularity 1’s current state all too perfectly.
Hae-rang, leading as vanguard, had swept through Singularity’s second and third players without exception.
And he hadn’t recorded a single loss in the process.
By set score, it was 6 to 0.
At this rate, not only could he expect a complete sweep, but even a Perfect All-Kill without losing a single set.
“It’s absolutely astounding — I’m speechless.”
Joint, who had been watching the highlight of the previous match, shook his head.
Then he turned his gaze toward Ma Hyeon-bin and Da-hong.
“You’re both thinking the same thing, right?”
The two of them nodded in unison.
Both wore the same expression of having been caught out.
They were being deceived by Hae-rang.
The skill Hae-rang had displayed in their sparring sessions was false.
To push the three of them to their absolute limits, he had intentionally held back—a calculated deception.
“Now that I see it like this, I understand. It’s just… a different league entirely.”
Da-hong’s voice carried an emotion she had never felt before.
Watching a skilled gamer should stir competitive fire or jealousy—that was the natural response.
But what Da-hong felt now was something altogether different.
Awe.
If she were to face the Heavenly Demon in the Murim, would it feel like this?
She had never imagined that watching one person’s play would kindle such reverence.
“Thank goodness he’s not our opponent.”
“Agreed.”
Now only one player remained.
What would happen if Hae-rang actually pulled off a Perfect All-Kill?
Da-hong, who had spent years with the Singularity,
could already foresee what would unfold.
‘It’ll be absolute chaos at the dormitory, no question about it. They’ll tear each other apart hunting for the “culprit.”‘
At least one person would face expulsion over this.
And no one had actually put in real effort, yet someone would bear the entire blame.
Da-hong knew the rot within the Singularity better than anyone.
But who would it be?
“I wish I could go back to the Singularity dorm for just one day.”
“What are you talking about, sister?”
“Nothing. Just thinking out loud.”
The pandemonium that would erupt in the dormitory.
It was a shame not to witness it firsthand.
But she couldn’t afford to let her guard down.
In team matches like this, it wasn’t uncommon for an All-Kill opportunity to flip into a reverse All-Kill.
‘Since we’ve come this far, let’s see what you can really do. Hae-rang.’
It wasn’t that she lacked the confidence to step up herself.
She simply wanted to witness a historic moment—one that would carve itself into the annals of the National Team Selection.
A Perfect All-Kill in the National Team Selection—something that had never happened before.
Only a single step remained to complete that record.
* * *
Captain of Singularity 1.
Park Je-young rose from his seat.
Whoosh.
Every eye from the Singularities fixed on Park Je-young.
Please.
Win this.
Come on, Park Je-young!
You’re the hope of every Singularity member!
It was as if invisible megaphones had been raised in the eyes of those watching.
Park Je-young walked toward the Capsule with an impassive face.
From the outside, he looked appropriately charismatic,
but Park Je-young’s true thoughts were entirely different.
‘Damn it. How did it come to this?’
Park Je-young was racked with regret.
Was it stepping up as captain for this match?
Was it teaming up with these incompetent fools?
No.
Something more fundamental haunted him.
Choosing Iron Fist as the event for this Capsule Cup.
That decision had become his deepest regret.
‘I should’ve gone with League or SERG instead…!’
League was tedious—coordinating with teammates was a headache—
and SERG had that difficult competitor, Kim Si-hwan.
But Iron Fist had no real rival, or so he’d thought.
Ma Hyeon-bin and Da-hong had left the team,
and Jo Sang-jin, once the rising star, had become completely washed up.
It didn’t help matters that his main champion, Yoshimitsu, had received a buff.
He’d picked it thinking he might coast to easy victory, but look how that turned out.
After bombing the solo tournament, he was about to lose the team event too.
Park Je-young’s gaze fixed on the capsule across from him.
‘Who the hell is this guy?’
Gwanjong Cheonma.
A nobody until just a few months ago.
A non-Singularity participant who’d appeared after years of absence.
Until then, Park Je-young had dismissed him outright.
Cocky amateurs showed up everywhere—nothing unusual about that.
But this amateur had turned the solo tournament into a wasteland,
and now he was trampling the Singularity 1 team in the team event.
‘If I lose 2 to 0 as well……’
A feat never seen before in the National Team Selection Tournament—
a Perfect All-Kill.
Every media outlet would replay Gwanjong Cheonma’s record-breaking moment over and over.
And as the final opponent who allowed him that record,
Park Je-young would fall, shedding blood beyond counting.
In the past, the LOL legend Gojupha had created a legendary moment,
and his opponent “Chu” had died repeating it endlessly.
He was probably still dying somewhere even now.
Literally stuffed.
He’d never minded his name, Je-young,
but given the situation, he found himself resenting his parents.
‘I won’t let it happen that way. I won’t.’
Park Je-young raised his concentration to the extreme.
In his assessment, the Singularities’ weakness was information.
Gwanjong Cheonma read him like a book—dissected him completely—
but what Singularity knew about him was almost nothing.
So Park Je-young chose exploration.
Not charging out wildly from the start like a reckless fool,
but first adapting to Gwanjong Cheonma’s movements.
Perhaps that choice had been sound reasoning.
That is, if Gwanjong Cheonma displayed the ‘same’ skill level as before.

Thump-thump-thump-thump!
The moment the match started, Full Phoenix charged forward with yellow hair streaming.
‘What the—?’
Park Je-young had chosen the cautious approach,
but he hadn’t anticipated an assault this reckless.
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
That wasn’t even the strangest part.
As Gwanjong Cheonma closed the distance,
he continued inputting Bungta commands, unleashing Infinite Wave after wave.
Park Je-young felt his blood rising the wrong way.
This kind of Infinite Wave was the sort of toying play an expert used against a newbie.
Every instinct screamed to draw his sword immediately,
but Park Je-young recalled Gwanjong Cheonma’s previous matches.
‘He throws Bungta after riding the waves like that.’
The pattern was always the same.
He’d throw waves, then once his opponent moved, only then would he launch Bungta.
If Park Je-young gave a subtle feint with minimal movement and just stood guard,
the opponent would surely trigger Bungta and self-destruct.
‘Now!’
As Gwanjong Cheonma closed to striking distance,
Park Je-young’s shoulder twitched slightly.
And Gwanjong Cheonma, as if he’d been waiting for it, activated his technique.
‘That’s it!’
The situation unfolded exactly as he’d calculated.
Park Je-young’s face twisted into a triumphant smile.
His head upside down.
“What…?”
A sharp pain shot through his ankle.
What the—
Why does my ankle hurt?
Why is my body inverted?
Wasn’t that guy supposed to be a one-trick Bungta user?
Bungta.
Where did Bungta go?!
“Hah!”
Hae-rang answered with a combo attack instead.
He swept the opponent’s ankle with his right foot,
struck the now-airborne opponent with his elbow,
then delivered a palm strike in rapid succession.
It was the skill known as the Lightning Wall Strike.
Boom! Crash!
“Ugh!”
Three consecutive shocks hammered through Park Je-young’s body.
Beyond the pain came a sense of utter disbelief.
In this finals match,
no—throughout his entire run here, Hae-rang had never once used this skill.
What was he doing?
Why was he pulling this just on me…?!
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The moment Park Je-young pushed himself up, Full Phoenix surged forward like a tidal wave.
His heart sank.
He couldn’t think of a way out of this.
Bungta was a mid-level hit—crouch and you’re done for.
But if he stayed standing, the low-level Lightning Wall Strike would shred him.
Were you supposed to not know this matchup against Full Phoenix?
Of course he knew.
Every Full Phoenix player knew this rock-paper-scissors game.
The problem was, he’d never seen anyone execute the mix-up this fast.
‘And the commands are different too…!’
Bungta and Lightning Wall Strike had different command motions.
Riding the wave and launching Bungta was one thing,
but Lightning Wall Strike required switching commands mid-sequence and crouching instantly.
Yet Gwanjong Cheonma’s movements showed no obvious transition.
He simply flowed from technique to technique, crushing his opponent with the ease of water.
“Oagh!”
“Hah!”
Nearly mindless offense—nothing but relentless assault.
The techniques carried high risk, meaning if you blocked once, a counter-opening appeared.
But—
‘Damn it… What do I do? How am I supposed to handle this?!’
Crouch and Bungta would pulp his face. Stand and Lightning Wall Strike would snap his ankle.
Once your momentum broke, there was no winning a psychological game like this.
And so—
“Hah!”
Smash! Thud! Crack!
Bungta and Lightning Wall Strike.
Five attacks landed in succession from the opening.
And then—

A knockout in the blink of an eye.
It wasn’t just the defeat—something far worse happened. Park Je-young’s face drained of all color.

Round one ended with fifty-three seconds remaining.
Given that the entire match was set for sixty seconds,
his health bar had been completely depleted in a mere seven seconds.
‘It’s over.’
Before the finals were even finished,
the “stuffing”—the very thing Park Je-young had feared—was already taking shape.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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