Chapter 7: God of Skills (2)

“Uuugh~”

I stretched my arms wide. Every time I did these long, lazy stretches, I could feel—strangely—my body getting more flexible.

Enjoying the pleasant pull of my muscles, I sat down in front of the keyboard.

Chain Roller.

The first stage. The one with all those steel balls flying everywhere.

I thought it was pretty doable.

Honestly, if I were playing alone, it would’ve been super easy.

The problem was the two players trailing behind me—they kept fumbling so badly that dragging them along was the real challenge.

‘The game’s starting to feel kind of easy, though.’

Am I… actually good?

At the very least, I didn’t feel like I was bad.

This was the first time I’d played a game since becoming Yoo Seo-yeon.

So I had no way to objectively measure my skill.

‘The game feels easy… so I don’t know what to think.’

It wasn’t like solving a complex math problem after racking my brain—

It felt more like breezing through some basic arithmetic.

Rather than thinking I’m amazing, it felt like the problem itself was just too simple.

‘Maybe this is what being a genius feels like…’

I’d never had the kind of talent people would call genius.

So even if I had gained that kind of talent now, I couldn’t really tell whether it was real or not.

Like someone who’s never seen gold trying to tell it apart from brass.

Still, I had dragged two barely-capable players through a game famous for its difficulty.

That alone made me wonder—wouldn’t even a half-decent streamer be able to do this?

Maybe the steel ball stage itself just wasn’t that hard……. I started to think.

“Mmm. It’s hard to get a feel for things since it’s my first time.”

I’d only watched a few highlight clips from streamers playing Chain Roller.

I hadn’t seen that much, to be honest.

And I’d never even seen the steel ball stage in any of their videos.

Maybe that stage just has a low spawn rate.

I hadn’t heard any opinions on it either, so I couldn’t say for sure whether it was supposed to be hard or not.

[Raidel: Silverhair, have you played this stage before?]

While I was thinking that, Raidel sent me a message.

[Silverhair: First time seeing it.]

I replied to her.

Not only was the game itself new to me, I hadn’t seen this stage in any stream either.

“It’s a bit of a mess, huh.”

In front of me was a hellish combo of arrows and anti-gravity fields.

One thing was clear—this wasn’t something you could brute-force with raw reflexes.

‘That anti-gravity field’s the real issue.’

A field marked “Gravity Reversal Zone.”

The moment you enter it, your body floats helplessly into the air—

Completely exposed to the arrows flying in from both sides.

The worst part? Once you’re airborne, you can’t control yourself.

In the steel ball stage, you had both feet on the ground, so dodging was always possible with skill.

But here, that kind of reactive play was impossible.

Once you were up in the air, pressing arrow keys meant nothing.

“It’s a pattern-recognition stage.”

More precisely—it was all about timing.

You had to read the timing of when the anti-gravity field got stronger or weaker, along with the rhythm of the arrows.

Then, you had to jump in at the perfect moment.

Not just the timing, either—your entry speed and direction into the gravity zone were critical.

In other words, to make it through, you had to leap into the gravity field with:

Perfect timing.

Perfect speed.

Perfect angle.

[Silverhair: Judging by the floating orbs, the gravity seems to fluctuate.]

[Silverhair: If we time it right, we should be able to get through.]

Stages like this, if made difficult, could become absurdly difficult.

If the devs made the correct timing, speed, and angle super tight…

It’d be hell for players.

Even a tiny mistake would force a restart, and it’s not like you can adjust mid-air to recover.

[Raidel: Silverhair, this really is your first time seeing this stage?]

[Silverhair: Yeah;;]

[Raidel: Ah…….]

[Raidel: Watching you dodge those steel balls, I thought you were a total veteran.]

[Raidel: How did you even dodge all that?]

It seemed like Raidel had found the previous stage really difficult.

[Silverhair: Just watched and dodged.]

Now that I typed it out, it felt kind of dismissive.

But honestly, what else could I say?

That really was all I did—watched, and dodged.

Raidel didn’t reply after that.

It looked like she accepted the answer.

‘Alright then. Let’s take a closer look.’

I focused and stared at the screen.

The small floating orbs above the gravity zone—

They must’ve been visual cues for the gravity’s intensity.

And the arrows flying in.

‘I bet they knock you back.’

Chain Roller doesn’t have a game-over screen.

You keep going until the player smashes their PC in a rage.

The bald character I’m controlling can’t die.

But if you get hit by an obstacle, you’ll go flying off the map.

These arrows probably weren’t lethal either—they’d just launch you.

And given the kind of dev who made this cruel game, they probably wouldn’t launch you just a little.

They’d yeet you far enough to start over.

“Wait… huh?”

Was it instinct?

The floating orbs…

The whizzing arrows flying through them…

Obstacles meant to block my way.

The orbs and arrows were hints.

Meanwhile, the gravity zone and arrows were the puzzle.

What I needed to solve was the correct timing window to dodge the arrows.

As I concentrated, the floating orbs and flying arrows started to move in slow motion.

And faintly—I began to feel the timing to get through.

Was it just an illusion? Or…

‘Only one way to find out—try it.’

Somewhere inside that mess of arrows, my instincts spotted a tiny gap.

It looked like a splash of paint on a perfect painting.

Or a moment of silence in a noisy, chaotic beat.

If I aimed for that gap, I was sure I could clear it—

“Ah—wait.”

The clinking of chains snapped me out of my focus.

Had I zoned in too hard?

I’d forgotten something important.

‘This isn’t single-player.’

I turned to look at Raidel and Delbung #3 standing behind me.

I had to factor them into my timing, too.

And since we couldn’t overlap, the target area was way bigger. Dodging arrows just got even harder.

No wonder single-player clears were faster.

This wasn’t really co-op—it was more like dragging dead weight.

“Huh?”

As I stared at the two of them standing there dumbly—

“Oh.”

A different idea popped into my head.

Sure, those two were an obstacle to clearing the stage.

But they were also a variable that didn’t exist in single-player mode.

A variable that might let me find a different kind of solution.

I didn’t know if it would work, but—

[Silverhair: Shall we go for it?]

Time to test it myself.

---

「Did Silverhair see something?」

「Probably just wants to try once and see」

「My eyes are about to fall out from looking at all these arrows….」

「I’m losing my mind~」

Silverhair’s message about “going for it.”

“Hmm. Wouldn’t it be better to wait a bit longer?”

Raidel muttered after reading the chat.

She’d seen a lot of obstacles like this in her years of gaming—ones that required precise timing.

But this stage? She saw no way through.

She narrowed her eyes and focused on the arrows, but all it did was make her dizzy.

She couldn’t figure out the pattern at all.

And once you added in the unpredictable gravity shifts…

It was like staring at a killer-level math problem during a college entrance exam. Her limbs felt heavy and motivation plummeted.

「Let’s just leave it to Silverhair」

「Don’t bully the bus driver」

「They probably have something planned」

「I see it… the thread of a gap!」

「Lmao they probably just want to try once」

「You can’t dodge midair anyway. They’re gonna get smacked like the rest of us」

Chat was split.

Some thought Silverhair could carry them again somehow.

Others figured—nope, not even they could handle this. They were just going to faceplant through it.

The second opinion was the more common one.

Even if Silverhair had pulled off some godlike moves before—

It was unlikely they had figured out this stage already.

Most people assumed they were just going to jump in and hope for the best.

“Yeah, maybe.”

It wasn’t a bad guess. This wasn’t some high-level stage. It was only stage two.

Even if they failed and fell, they just had to clear the first stage again.

Granted, that first stage was the awful “steel ball hell.”

But at the very least, Silverhair had the skill to get past that one.

“Well, yeah. First tries are for learning anyway. Let’s just go.”

As Raidel said that—

[Silverhair: Delbung, Raidel—stand here for now.]

Silverhair began positioning the others.

[Silverhair: No, not there. A little further back.]

[Silverhair: Yep, there.]

[Silverhair: Oh, and a little to the left.]

‘Wait… are they actually planning something?’

The detailed instructions made Raidel’s face light up.

If it was just a random attempt, they wouldn’t be giving directions this specific.

「That’s super detailed lol must be a veteran」

「No way… right?」

「Are they gonna pull it off?」

「If they clear this first try it’s LEGENDARY」

「Yeah, no, there’s no way;」

At this point, the stream might as well have belonged to Silverhair.

But right now, it didn’t matter.

The chat was locked onto them too.

Even Raidel herself was fully focused on Silverhair, totally forgetting she was even streaming.

[Silverhair: I’ll count down 3, 2, 1. Then just run forward.]

[Raidel: Got it.]

A tense moment. Even the chat slowed down noticeably.

[Silverhair: 3]

[Silverhair: 2]

[Silverhair: 1 gogogogo]

“Alright, let’s do thissss!”

Raidel shouted with all her might. Her heart thumped in her chest.

All three players dashed forward at the exact same time.

“Let’s clear it on the first try!”

Raidel swallowed hard, eyes locked on the screen.

Their starting timing was perfect—

Whoosh!

All three players entered the gravity zone at once.

They floated up high into the air.

Thud!

Thud!

Thud!

And within a second, the three bald men were plastered against the walls by arrows.

「LOLOLOLOLOL」

「What even was that lol」

「Actual legendary moment」

「1-second wipeout lolol」

“…Ah.”

Raidel let out a small groan.

「Yeah, this was doomed from the start」

「Let’s be real, no one’s clearing that on the first try」

「Fr tho lol」

「It was inevitable」

「Even pros couldn’t clear this one」

The chat felt… deflated.

Reading the comments, Raidel felt her racing heart cool rapidly.

Now that she thought about it—yeah, that was just impossible.

How the hell were they supposed to clear that first try?

Expecting that would’ve been delusional.

This outcome was perfectly normal.

‘Still.’

She had hoped. Just a little.

She could feel her grip loosen on the mouse.

‘No. I can’t let this happen.’

Now wasn’t the time to freeze.

Even if the mood dropped, she had to force the energy back up.

That was a streamer’s job.

Just as Raidel was about to say something—

[Silverhair: How many stages are there total?]

That made her glance at the chat.

The chat was filled with “10.”

Backseating and spoilers were normally banned, but neither Raidel nor the viewers cared in this case.

[Raidel: I think there are 10 stages?]

[Silverhair: Ah.]

A brief pause.

And then—

Raidel’s eyes widened at the next message.

[Silverhair: I think we can skip a few.]

---

TL Notes:

• 날먹 (nalmeok): Slang for “getting something the easy way,” often through carries or cheesy strats.
• 버스 (bus): “Getting a ride” = being carried in a game.
• 1초 컷 (1-second cut): Total failure within 1 second; used humorously for fast wipes.