Gwanjongcheonma’s Game Broadcast - Chapter 179

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

Episode 179
A Japanese game company that developed the Iron Fist.
Nanko.
Because the development company was Japanese, interest in the Iron Fist among Japanese players ran extraordinarily high.
Naturally, expectations and interest in the Japanese National Team were equally intense.
It was no coincidence that Nanko had sent staff directly to America.
“A lie……!”
Yoneki, a developer at Nanko, stared at the screen with a dazed expression.
A dizzying exchange of basic attacks.
The faces of his fellow developers rose unbidden in Yoneki’s mind.
If the colleagues who had developed the character’s skills were watching today’s match,
they would surely be weeping and wailing on the spot.
They’d built these skills—so why weren’t they being used?
This wasn’t what they’d stayed up all those countless nights for!
He could almost hear the developers’ anguished cries ringing in his ears.
‘That’s fair enough, I suppose.’
The characters weren’t using their techniques.
All that passed between them were brutally bland exchanges and light kicks.
It was like watching a real boxing match or Muay Thai.
‘The Japanese National Team—I can forgive that. But this other player……?’
Cheon Hae-rang.
Nickname: Gwanjong Cheonma.
Since Japan also used Sino-Korean characters, he could grasp the meaning well enough.
Until the match began, he’d thought of it as simply an unusual character concept.
But once the fourth match rolled around, Yoneki found himself forced to reconsider everything.
‘If a Heavenly Demon from a martial arts novel were to exist in reality, would it feel like this……?’
He was fast.
Sharp.
And yet relentless.
Even Yasuo, a master of Zansou, couldn’t endure a single match before his patience shattered—yet
Cheon Hae-rang had pushed through eight consecutive rounds.
‘Is that even human?’
The patience this man had accumulated today could move mountains.
A Zansou duel unfolding at close quarters.
Hundreds of exchanges continued within the span of a single minute.
“Ugh……!”
The Japanese gamers emerging from their Capsules all grew dizzy.
Normally, when their side brought out Zansou, the opponent would settle the match with a big technique.
Never had they faced someone taking such an unbearably harsh and relentless approach.
Drinking a whole liter of seawater in one shot would’ve been more palatable.
‘This is bad. Really bad.’
After Yasuo fell, the Japanese National Team suffered consecutive defeats.
Every player on the National Representative Team adhered to the same fighting style.
On the bright side, it meant the players’ ability was consistent,
but in situations like this, consistency became a liability.
They were all variations on the same theme.
No matter who stepped forward from the National Team, a reversal was unlikely.
If the four members of the Japanese National Team were ramen seasoned to just the right degree,
then Hae-rang was like miso soup with an entire bag of salt dumped into it.
[Cheon Hae-rang wins again! Now, if he can take just one more victory! The Korean National Team will achieve their long-cherished dream!]
Seo Seung-heon was already running high on energy.
His voice came through the speaker with vivid clarity.
Seo Seung-heon was both a gamer and a South Korean citizen.
Having debuted as a caster during Korea’s distant golden age as a gaming superpower, his feelings ran even deeper.
[Of course there are many excellent players waiting in the wings, but I truly hope we can secure an all-kill in this match! We’re so close now—just one more step! Think of how many times our Korean gaming fans have tasted defeat!]
Moisture hung thick in Seo Seung-heon’s voice.
Even a seasoned professional who’d seen it all struggled to hold back emotion.
-Let’s goooooooooooooooo
-Gwanjong Cheonma! Gwanjong Cheonma! Gwanjong Cheonma! Gwanjong Cheonma!
-We’re making history!
—Is it real? You’re actually winning?
—What the National Team couldn’t do in ten years, Gwanjong does on his first tournament outing. Shivering.
—Before we all die, we get to see the National Team win one. ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
—God, ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ How is watching just this one moment so unbearably hard? ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ
—Don’t celebrate yet, you bastards — we haven’t won till it’s over.
—Glad I didn’t leave and stuck around for this. ㅋㅋㅋ
—Just one more! Please, just one more!
—Let our tens of millions of people finally have closure. ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ
—Even one win is overwhelming, but if he pulls off an all-kill…
—Is Gwanjong gonna become the people’s gamer? Shivering.

The International Competition match proceeding in a best-of-three format.
Hae-rang had already claimed one victory against Yamazaki, the fourth Japanese player to face him.
Yamazaki had chosen the character Steve.
A boxing-based character with a powerful Smash skill,
yet Yamazaki had adhered to the Zansou style with this Steve.
The same pattern as the other three Japanese gamers.
Truly a steadfast team strategy.
Step by cautious step.
A character that has to close distance to deal any real damage.
But Steve couldn’t seem to get near Full Phoenix.
The defeats his three teammates had already suffered, and the psychological weight of being cornered, kept his feet rooted in place.
‘What do I do? How can I possibly win this?’
The reality that there existed a more refined player than the entire Japanese National Team.
He’d never had to consider such a thing before.
The Japanese National Team of four moved as one, locked into a single style.
Solid enough in normal matches, but lacking in flexibility when losing.
‘There’s no winning a Zansou duel. I’ve had enough practice with that already.’
Yamazaki made his choice.
To abandon his familiar style and gamble everything on a big technique.
But,
Whoosh!
Steve’s attack, wearing clothes that didn’t fit his frame, carried no real sting.
Full Phoenix tilted his upper body back, slipping beneath Steve’s hook.
“Tsk!”
Steve’s deep brown eyes wavered without mercy.
Meanwhile, Hae-rang’s gaze remained steady as stone.
Roar!
Full Phoenix chambered a Straight Punch into his waist, hot as a furnace.
Unleashing for the first time in this Capsule Cup,
Full Phoenix’s signature move.
Bung-ta!
“Ohhh-ah!”
Kaboom!
“Khack!”
Steve’s body snapped rigid.
Then flew backward like a missile fired at the plains.
The impact was so violent that acrid ammunition smoke seemed to rise from his fist.
A massive exclamation mark erupted above Steve’s head.
[There it is! Hyper Motion! Cheon Hae-rang launches the tournament’s first Bung-ta into Hyper Motion!]
The chat window dances in rhythm with Seo Seung-heon’s jubilant voice.
—Kyaaaaaaaaaaa that’s the stuff!
—Gwanjong Cheonma means Bung-ta! Bung-ta means Gwanjong Cheonma!
—I am Bung-ta!
—Bung-ta came and I got launched too!
—Hoo! Hyper Motion right on the first hit!
—ㅋㅋㅋㅋ This is the taste of Korean firepower!
—Zansou duels are fun and all, but Gwanjong really does shine with Bung-ta!
—Look at Steve’s health bar getting shredded ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
—Real talk, absolutely ridiculous damage ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
Even if it were called a bug in Japan, they’d probably just accept it.
“Gack…….”
Yamazaki, piloting Steve.
In that instant, he felt a wave of nausea wash over him.
The vibration delivered to his abdomen had been catastrophic.
Had this not been an international competition,
‘It’s definitely Anti-Shock……!’
Since it was a match between seasoned gamers,
the determination of Anti-Shock had been adjudicated conservatively.
The reasoning: as a professional streamer and national representative, he should have built up tolerance to impact.
But that was wrong.
The Bung-ta that Gwanjong Cheonma had just unleashed
was at a level where no amount of repetition could make you grow accustomed to it.
Thump-thump-thump-thump!
Hae-rang began his charge toward Steve, who now stood at a distance.
A heavy, resonant footfall that made the heart pound.
Whether it was because of the martial arts uniform Full Phoenix wore,
it felt like a blood-red war chariot, clad in crimson, bearing down at high speed.
Yamazaki felt fear grip him.
Merely recalling the Bung-ta that had struck him moments before sent tingling through his fingers and toes.
‘This can’t be happening……!’
Yet if there was one force that kept Yamazaki moving,
it was the fact that this match was the ‘opening match’ of the tournament.
A brutal tournament where a single loss meant elimination.
He’d flown for hours to get here—he couldn’t let it end like this.
‘Moreover…….’
There was another reason that drove Yamazaki to his feet.
It was the eyes watching him back in Japan.
If he lost in the very first match and was eliminated,
if the news reached his homeland that he’d been defeated by a Korean team,
the Japanese fans would certainly say one thing:
swim back to Japan.
‘That’s not happening!’
He couldn’t lose so pathetically.
Yamazaki unleashed Steve’s ultimate technique,
‘Single Point Strike’.
If Full Phoenix had Bung-ta, Steve had the Single Point Strike.
With damage output this reliable, a reversal in a single blow was possible.
‘I’ll catch him the moment he uses Bung-ta.’
Single Point Strike activated faster than Bung-ta.
If he could land a Cross Counter right as the opponent attacked,
he could deal massive damage to Full Phoenix’s health.
It was all or nothing anyway.
“Ohhh-ah!”
‘Perfect!’
The instant Hae-rang activated Bung-ta,
Steve countered with his own Single Point Strike.
Before that devastating Bung-ta could drive into the abdomen, the Single Point Strike would bury itself in the face.
True to his role as the Japanese team’s ‘captain’, he’d crafted a strategy unlike the players who’d faced him before.
Strike before the blow reaches the abdomen.
That was Yamazaki’s gambit.
Yet regrettably, the target of the Bung-ta was not Yamazaki’s abdomen.
Crash!
Could a sound like that truly come from a fist?
It sounded like two runaway locomotives barreling toward each other head-on,
a deafening roar of collision.
Whoosh…….
After both strikes landed.
Full Phoenix, who had unleashed the Bung-ta, maintained his stance without the slightest opening, as always.
Feet spread wide,
His waist held rigidly upright, his right arm extended to its fullest reach.
Meanwhile,
Steve’s gloved hand shot skyward.
It was no victory pose.
Unable to withstand the force of Full Phoenix’s fist, the extended arm had been knocked back.
Throbbing. Throbbing.
“Ugh…….”
Steve’s face contorted without his knowledge.
The vibration coursing through his fist
arrived like the aftermath of striking a concrete wall.
‘This…… is the damage output inside a game?’
He’d been a professional player for several years,
fighting Iron Fist thousands upon thousands of times.
But never had he experienced such blunt-force trauma during a match.
‘This guy…… he wasn’t aiming for my abdomen!’
From Yamazaki’s perspective, that was the only explanation.
The trajectory of Bung-ta had diverged from its usual pattern.
But he was wrong.
Hae-rang’s initial Bung-ta, which had been aimed at the abdomen,
had simply adjusted its target after witnessing Steve’s counter movement.
Fist against fist.
When both strike the same point at the same instant, what remains
is nothing but the raw destructive power of the technique itself.
‘Come down…….’
Steve’s right fist, thrust high into the air, showed no sign of descending.
Come down.
Come down now!
But the right hand that had absorbed the full brunt of Bung-ta lacked the courage to form another fist.
As though it had developed a will of its own.
While Yamazaki’s reason and instinct waged war within him,
Hae-rang slowly chambered one final shot.
Toward the Wall of Wailing that had stood impenetrable against the Korean National Team for nearly a decade.
“Oh-ah!”
Crack!
A Bung-ta more ferocious than ever before drove deep into Steve’s abdomen.
Steve’s body folded like paper, and a massive exclamation mark erupted above his head.
[It connects! Cheon Hae-rang’s Bung-ta! Now all that remains is……!]
[K.O.! Cheon Hae-rang claims victory!]
[South Korea has finally secured its first win at the International Competition!]
[The Korean National Team, plagued by poor performances and even facing threats of elimination from the Capsule Cup, now emerges from that long, dark age of despair!]
Whoosh!
Wisps of smoke curled up from Hae-rang’s fist as he drove in the final Bung-ta.
He thrust his fist—still trailing smoke—high into the sky.
From gaming powerhouse to global laughingstock.
The standing of the Korean National Team, which had plummeted endlessly into the depths,
Hae-rang had hauled back to the surface.
As high as his own fist now raised above his head.

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