Vol.3 Chapter 1

Ring Ring Ring*

I awoke to the sound of my phone alarm. Reaching out to the small table beside my bed, I grabbed the device. After all this time, I'd finally trained myself to wake up at the exact time I wanted without the urge to hit the snooze button—a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

I instinctively checked the time and date, squinting at the screen to see it before turning off the alarm.

Monday, Nov. 17, 2031

With a satisfied sigh, I stretched and sat up, my eyes landing on the small table beside my bed. There, nestled next to a plushie Clarissa gave me after the tournament, was a framed photograph that instantly bought a bit of nostalgia.

It was a picture of me lifting the trophy high above my head, a look of content plastered on my face. Surrounding me were my teammates, Liz, Clarence, and Chu. Their expressions mirrored my elation, except for Chu, who looked as serious as ever while we all celebrated our victory in the previous tournament.

…It’s been almost a month since that tournament, huh? Almost a month since our team disbanded because of me.

With a groan, I tried to get out of bed. After a bit of effort, I managed to accomplish the arduous task… just barely.

I proceeded to do my morning stretches and then got into the shower, feeling the warm water wash away the remnants of sleep.

After dressing casually for school and brushing my long black hair to look more presentable, I headed to the mini kitchen in my apartment to prepare breakfast. According to my fridge, there was no bacon today, so pancakes and sausages would have to suffice.

After fixing a quick meal, I placed it on the dining table and debated whether to watch TV while eating. Just then, my phone pinged, indicating that there was a message for me.

 Who could be messaging me this early? I don’t have many close friends, so it was probably Liz or Lenna… or Mom checking if I was already awake.

After a quick glance at my phone, I found out who the culprit was: Liz.

Liz: Look at this! It’s finally here!

Before I could figure out what she meant by that, she sent me a link to a video. My curiosity piqued, and I clicked on it to see what had her so excited.

The video opened with a segment of a special announcement from the Atelier organization. It was posted on their official YouTube channel, which boasts millions of subscribers.

“Today, we have a major announcement for all you Atelier fans out there,” the host began, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. “We are thrilled to welcome two of the most talented players into our ranks: Elizabeth Miles and Hana Yamamoto!”

Footage of Liz and Hana flashed across the screen. The show replayed their stunning performances from our recent tournament, featuring highlights and major plays that the two of them made in their fights. The fans' cheers and the casters' energetic commentary enhanced the experience, making for an exhilarating watch.

Although I’ve watched some of the replays myself to analyze both their gameplays back then, the professionally made edits and added soundtrack make the watch a whole new experience. They clearly have the purpose of making them both look good in these clips to attract more fans, and they nailed it perfectly. Liz's fanbase is sure to explode with this announcement... not that it hadn't already surged after the previous tournament.

It certainly helps that Liz and Hana are incredibly good-looking, both in their avatar forms and in real life. They're a perfect fit for the Atelier organization, and I'm sure this announcement will be a huge success for their new roster.

Liz, please don't forget me when you become extremely famous one day!

My phone buzzed with an incoming call just as the video ended. Glancing at the screen, I saw Liz’s name flashing. I couldn't help but smile, already knowing what this call was about, as I answered the call.

“Did you see it?!” Liz’s voice came through, bubbling with enthusiasm. “I can’t believe it’s finally out! How did we look?”

“It was passable,” I lied, not wanting to inflate her ego even more.

Even over a voice call, I could practically see her pouting. “At least praise me a little bit!”

“Yes, yes. You looked great,” I replied, feigning excitement.

“I know, right?! And get this—this is firsthand news, so don't spread it yet—but I’m going to be teammates with Hana and Rin in a new roster for the upcoming Andartha Cup season run!” she exclaimed.

Hmm, seems like they're forming a dream team both with the looks and the skills, especially with Rin being the ace of the second Atelier team. Even though her previous team didn't qualify because of us, her skills are the real deal.

“Our last member is still undecided, but we probably need a support player for a well-rounded team,” Liz continued.

I don’t like where this is going.

“I just found out that management said you were their first pick in their recruitment efforts, but you declined their offer. I know you said you have no plans to go pro, but how about it? Would you like to join us?” she asked hopefully.

“No thanks,” I vehemently refused.

“Tsk! Fine! I’ll get you next time, though!” she said determinedly.

“Please don’t make it sound like a threat,” I deadpanned.

“Okay then, I’ll call you again later. I won’t hold you up, or you’ll be late for your first class!” she lectured.

“I’m not that irresponsible…” I muttered.

“Or you could postpone your education like me and focus on becoming a pro player—”

“I’m hanging up. Bye,” I cut her off before it turned into another cajoling session like last time.

After finishing my breakfast, I quickly cleaned up the dishes and grabbed my backpack. I double-checked to make sure I had everything I needed for the day. Satisfied, I slung the backpack over my shoulder and headed out the door of my apartment.

-----------------------------------------------

The train slowed to a stop, and I stood up, grabbing my backpack. As the doors slid open, I stepped off the train and onto the platform, greeted by the bustling energy of the station. I navigated through the crowd of commuters, making my way towards the exit.

As I emerged from the station, the cool morning air felt refreshing. I took a moment to adjust my bag and set off on the short walk to my college. The route was familiar, lined with small shops and cafes that were just beginning to open for the day.

As I continued my walk to school, I felt the familiar buzz of my phone in my pocket. Curiosity got the better of me, and I pulled it out to check the notification. It was another email, and as I glanced at the subject line, I saw it was yet another recruitment offer for a pro team.

I sighed and opened the email, skimming the first few lines. It was the usual spiel: praise for my skills in the Champion’s Brawl tournament, a promise of an exciting future in esports, and an invitation to join their roster. This time, the offer came from a well-known team, but the contents of the email felt all too familiar.

Without giving it much thought, I ignored the rest of the message and slid my phone back into my pocket. I had already made up my mind about not going pro, no matter how flattering the offers might be.

Rounding a corner, the imposing structure of my college came into view. The campus was already buzzing with students heading to the entrance of the main building.

After entering and having my ID scanned, I headed toward my class.

Along the way, I felt numerous glances directed at me. I knew I wasn't imagining things—this was all the school's fault. After our tournament victory, they proudly displayed a photo banner of us in the west side building for a week! Now, even those uninterested in CoA knew our faces.

I even noticed a girl subtly pointing at me with my keen senses honed through VR gaming. She then leaned in to whisper something to her friend.

Her friend glanced up, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink as she gave me a bashful look. Her eyes quickly darted away when I glanced back at her, eliciting a giggle from her friend. I felt a mixture of curiosity and slight embarrassment, wondering what they were talking about.

Ugh! Why did the school make such a big deal about our win? I understood they did it to promote our school, but now I couldn't walk peacefully without being gawked at like an exotic zoo animal. This is why I hate standing out—it disrupts the peace, quiet, and simplicity I hold so dear.

Luckily, I arrived safely at my destination with my poker face still intact. I had gotten a lot of practice with it lately, which was probably good for my future endeavors. Well, at least until the hype died down.

As I approached the classroom of my first class, I could hear the usual hum of chatter and laughter from my classmates. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the attention I knew I would receive.

Pushing the door open, I stepped into the room, and the effect was immediate. Conversations halted mid-sentence, and all eyes turned to me. The once lively room fell into a stunned silence, the sudden shift in atmosphere palpable.

I could feel the weight of their gazes, a mix of curiosity, admiration, and perhaps a hint of envy. My heart raced slightly, but I kept my expression neutral, maintaining the practiced poker face I had perfected.

Walking to my seat, I was acutely aware of the whispers that started to ripple through the room like a wave. Some of my classmates exchanged glances, while others continued to watch me, their expressions unreadable. Some were still completely uninterested, though, but they were in the minority.

I settled into my usual seat on the leftmost side of the room, pretending not to notice the attention. Gradually, the room began to stir back to life, the volume of chatter rising once more.

Since I was quite early today, there was still some time before class started. I didn't have anyone to chat with, especially since Liz, who used to be in this class, was no longer attending because she was pursuing her professional career.

That’s one of the qualities I admired about her. She knew what she wanted to do and did her best to pursue her dreams—a stark contrast to me.

Well, let's bring out my headphones and listen to some music, so I won't be too affected by not having someone to talk to.

With that in mind, I put on my headphones, but instead of playing my music right away to drown out the chatter, I waited a bit out of curiosity. People tend to lower their guard around me if they think I'm not listening to what they are saying.

It didn’t take long before I heard two boys chatting about me at the back of my seat.

“Miss Katyusha is as cool and unapproachable as always...” a guy muttered, his voice barely audible above the classroom chatter.

From his familiar tone, I recognized it was Jason, who also shared several classes with me.

“I know, right? That’s our Ice Queen for ya!” his friend chimed in, his tone equally low but laced with admiration.

Ice Queen!? What is this, a school battle manhua? When had my classmates started calling me such an embarrassing moniker?!

“She looked especially amazing when she fought with Murasame that day. I’ve been a die-hard fan ever since I watched that match!” Jason continued with unabashed enthusiasm.

“You know it’s staged, right? There’s no way she could match the Unseen Blade,” his friend countered skeptically.

That seems to be the general consensus in the community—most people think my fight with Murasame was staged since it was only a show match for entertainment with no stakes involved. Of course, there are some who believe it’s real, especially the pros who can critically analyze our movements, but they’re in the minority and less outspoken.

I don’t blame the majority for thinking that way. In the gaming community, pros are often treated like gods among mortals, much like how celebrities are revered in the real world.

Besides, people believe what they want to believe based on emotions rather than logic. That's why there are still flat earthers in 2031.

Honestly, I have no proof that Murasame was serious in our fight, but the experience we shared spoke volumes about her intent. We both respected each other as fighters and gave it everything we had… that I’m certain of.

“I don’t care if it’s staged! People become fans of actors who play their roles perfectly, regardless of whether the movie is real or not! And it’s not like she lacks skills, either! She was even crowned MVP of the tournament!” Jason insisted with conviction.

“Well, you do have a point,” his friend conceded.

“…You know, my horoscope said today is my lucky day. Should I ask her out on a date?” Jason asked, sounding bashful.

Not this again. Ever since the tournament, sudden confessions have become a common occurrence over the past few weeks. It’s flattering, but it also feels disingenuous since I know they’re only confessing due to my sudden rise in popularity.

“Don't even think about it,” his friend warned, much to my relief as it saved me from having to turn down another person.

“H-huh?! But why?” Jason seemed taken aback.

“I’m just looking out for your mental well-being. You'll only be added to the hundreds of people she’s rejected.”

Hundreds?! I've received a few confessions since the tournament, but it hasn't even reached two digits at all! That’s downright fake news!

“What's worse, she will look at you coldly, like an insignificant insect unworthy of her time. At least that’s what I heard from a cousin of mine in his fourth senior year, who is a close friend of a classmate who confessed to her.”

Are you kidding me?! I always handle those confessions with the neutral, expressionless poker face I usually sport when dealing with difficult situations—not disdain! How have these rumors become so overblown?

I sighed mentally. I missed Liz already. I wished she were here to absorb some of the unwanted attention I'm getting right now.