Yeonarang frowned as the first set slipped away from him.
Jin-ho was far tougher than he had expected.
He had anticipated a difficult match eventually, but not in the very first round of the tournament.
If he had known about Jin-ho beforehand, things might have been different.
He could have studied his habits, reviewed his matches, or at least prepared himself mentally.
But now it was too late.
There was no information.
No preparation.
Only adaptation.
After a few seconds, Yeonarang navigated through the stage select and chose random.
The stage roulette spun briefly before stopping.
Violet Systems.
The second set began loading.
Jin-ho remained calm and focused, his eyes fixed on the screen without wavering.
Across from him, Yeonarang was already thinking ahead.
His previous approach had failed.
This time, he needed to pressure differently.
Instead of forcing risky offense immediately, he planned to chip away at Jin-ho with pokes, provoke reactions, and establish momentum little by little.
And if necessary…
He would mix in grabs.
The round began.
Right from the start, Yeonarang moved forward aggressively with While Running 3.
Jin-ho blocked.
Frame advantage.
Yeonarang immediately followed with Down Forward 1, checking movement and trying to catch a sidestep.
Jin-ho attempted to move.
The attack clipped him.
Not much damage, but enough to stop his movement.
Yeonarang instantly seized the opportunity.
He pushed forward and began applying pressure.
Typical Hwoarang offense.
Down 3, 4 into Flamingo Stance.
Constant transitions.
Constant guessing.
Jin-ho stayed still.
No panic.
No challenge.
Just blocking.
Yeonarang jabbed next, maintaining advantage and refusing to give space.
Then suddenly—
Just Frame Sky Rocket.
A hard callout.
A move intended to catch movement, sidesteps, or button presses.
But Jin-ho did neither.
Instead—
He parried.
The move completely missed.
The moment Yeonarang landed, Jin-ho retaliated instantly.
Electric Wind God Fist.
CRACK.
Yeonarang was launched into the air.
The crowd reacted immediately.
Even the casters sounded surprised.
“Electric for the punish?!”
“Most players would’ve gone for a hopkick or can-can there!”
The second caster laughed in disbelief.
“Dominion is confident in his Electrics!”
Jin-ho converted the launch cleanly, carrying Yeonarang toward the wall with a precise juggle sequence.
The combo ended close to the wall.
But not with a wall splat.
Jin-ho wavedashed forward afterward, continuing pressure.
Yeonarang immediately reacted with a spring kick.
But Jin-ho suddenly stopped.
Wave cancel.
He blocked.
As if he had expected it from the beginning.
Then—
Another Electric.
CRACK.
“ANOTHER ELECTRIC!”
The caster nearly shouted.
The crowd behind them reacted loudly.
“But wait, that wasn’t even the optimal route!”
“He could’ve gone for a higher wall splat and bigger damage!”
The second caster paused for a moment.
Then laughed.
“…No way.”
“He chose mental damage.”
The camera showed Yeonarang sitting motionless for a second.
Because somehow…
Getting hit by a second Electric felt worse than losing health.
Jin-ho followed with a wall combo, prioritizing both damage and oki.
Back Forward 2,1 into Down Forward 2.
Yeonarang crashed onto the ground.
Head facing Jin-ho.
Bad position.
Very bad.
Jin-ho wavedash repeatedly toward him.
No rush.
No panic.
Just pressure.
Yeonarang refused to stand.
No tech roll.
No movement.
Because standing up carried danger.
One wrong guess and he could eat another combo.
Jin-ho noticed immediately.
So he simply used Down 2.
A grounded punch.
Simple.
Reliable.
Enough damage to force Yeonarang up and remove the situation entirely.
As Yeonarang stood—
Electric.
Blocked.
Another Electric.
Blocked again.
The pressure continued.
And every block made the situation worse.
Eventually Yeonarang ducked.
He wanted a punish.
This time—
Whiff.
Finally.
While Rising 3.
Jin-ho dropped to the ground.
Yeonarang immediately followed with Back 3, clipping grounded damage afterward.
Some life came back.
Some momentum.
But Jin-ho showed no reaction.
He stood up.
Backdashed.
Created space.
Then suddenly—
Wave dash.
Wave dash.
Closed the distance instantly.
Yeonarang saw the movement.
Saw the approach.
And immediately ducked.
Expecting another Electric.
Wrong guess.
Thrusting Uppercut.
BOOM.
Launch.
The crowd erupted.
“YEONARANG GUESSED WRONG!”
“He was looking for Electric!”
“He ducked!”
“And Dominion called him out completely!”
The stream chat exploded.
Messages flooded in.
“HE READ HIM.”
“THAT WAS DISGUSTING.”
“THIS GUY IS ACTUALLY CRAZY.”
Jin-ho completed the combo.
Wall carry.
Ender.
Round over.
A perfect start.
Absolute domination.
And on the side, Ji-min stared at the screen with wide eyes.
Even without understanding every mechanic…
She could tell.
Jin-ho was overwhelming him.
The rounds continued in a similar fashion.
For Yeonarang, dealing with Jin-ho had become a headache.
No matter what approach he tried, Jin-ho always seemed one step ahead.
Earlier, Jin-ho had relied on cautious defense and keep-out.
Now he had shifted gears completely.
Measured aggression.
Constant pressure.
He controlled the pace without becoming reckless, overwhelming Yeonarang to the point where even finding opportunities to fight back became difficult.
Still, Yeonarang refused to give up.
He continued searching for openings, using evasive movement and stance transitions whenever possible.
A few attempts succeeded and created small moments of breathing room, but none of them truly shifted the momentum.
No matter what he did, the advantage never stayed with him for long.
At this point, catching Jin-ho with a counter hit felt like his best chance.
Back 4.
A fast high attack that launched on counter hit.
A dangerous move.
And eventually—
It connected.
Counter hit.
The crowd reacted slightly.
But Jin-ho remained calm.
He knew the move.
Far too well.
He had been caught by Hwoarang’s Back 4 countless times in ranked matches before.
Enough times that the timing and situations around it had become familiar.
He had expected Yeonarang to eventually throw it out.
Even after taking the hit, Jin-ho did not panic.
Nor did it slow him down.
He continued pressing forward, maintaining his offense while carefully respecting the threat of another counter hit.
Aggressive.
But controlled.
Pressure without greed.
Minutes passed.
Then the result finally appeared on screen.
3-0.
Jin-ho won the second set.
A complete sweep.
Absolute domination.
The casters immediately reacted.
“Wow, what a performance from the newcomer, Dominion!”
The other caster nodded quickly.
“And who would’ve thought Yeonarang would be sent to losers this early?”
Around the stream station, several players exchanged glances.
Some had started paying more attention.
A new name had just appeared.
And people were remembering it.
Off to the side, Ji-min quietly clapped for Jin-ho, her eyes bright with excitement.
She looked genuinely happy seeing him win.
On stage, both players stood up.
Jin-ho and Yeonarang exchanged a fist bump.
“You’re really strong,” Yeonarang admitted.
Despite losing, his expression remained composed.
Jin-ho gave a small nod.
“Thank you.”
No arrogance.
No celebration.
Just a simple answer.
After that, the two disconnected their controllers and stepped away from the station, while the next players were already preparing to take their seats.
Jin-ho walked back toward Ji-min, arcade stick still in hand.
She immediately brightened when she saw him.
Without saying much, she gave him a light pat on the back, a quiet gesture of approval.
Good job.
Jin-ho noticed it and smiled faintly, then the two of them turned and walked away together.
They returned to the waiting area, but most of the seats on the sofa they had used earlier were already occupied.
Instead, they found a spot near the wall where they could stand and rest.
From there, they talked while waiting for the next match.
Ji-min showed little interest in watching the ongoing games now.
Her focus was mostly on their conversation, speaking more freely compared to earlier.
Jin-ho listened while leaning back against the wall, relaxed but still attentive to the flow of the tournament.
Around them, players passed by frequently.
Some slowed down when they noticed him.
The player who had sent Yeonarang to losers earlier.
Not loud, but noticeable.
“Isn’t that the guy from the stream match?”
“Dominion?”
A few glanced at Ji-min as well.
One of them hesitated before speaking.
“Isn’t she… familiar?”
The other followed his gaze.
“Who?”
He pointed subtly in her direction.
After a brief look, the other finally reacted.
“Oh?”
He stared for a couple of seconds.
Then tilted his head slightly.
“She kind of looks like Karina.”
That comment immediately drew a skeptical response from someone nearby.
“In what world would Karina be here?”
He scoffed lightly, then continued walking.
“Probably just someone similar.
Don’t get distracted, focus on your match.”
The group moved on, though one of them still glanced back once more before leaving.
Neither Jin-ho nor Ji-min noticed the brief exchange.
They remained focused on their own space, unaware of the attention passing around them.
A few minutes later, the next match was called.
Staff members moved through the area holding a whiteboard, raising it to announce stations and player names.
“Dominion!
Station 6!”
Jin-ho immediately looked up.
He stood without hesitation and adjusted his grip on the arcade stick.
His opponent was called at the same time.
A competitor from another arcade.
Someone he did not know.
And did not care to.
His focus was already on the match.
At the setup, his opponent selected Marduk.
Jin-ho selected Jin as usual.
The match began.
From the start, it became clear.
The opponent relied heavily on throws and predictable pressure sequences.
Jin-ho adapted quickly.
He stayed patient, ducked at the right moments, and punished every failed grab attempt with clean, simple responses.
No unnecessary risks.
No extended combos.
Just efficient punishment and controlled pokes.
The match never escaped his control.
Round after round followed the same pattern.
Read.
Duck.
Punish.
Reset.
Eventually, it ended.
2-0.
A clean victory.
With it, Jin-ho advanced deeper into the winner’s side of the bracket.
Around him, reactions were more muted this time, as if his earlier performance had already set expectations.
Still, a few players acknowledged the result.
Ji-min, however, looked genuinely pleased again.
She clapped softly, happy for his win, though not as intensely as before.
Not because she cared less.
But because, at this point, she had already started to expect it.
As if victory had become normal for him.
The matches for Jin-ho continued.
One after another.
Different opponents.
Different styles.
Different pacing.
But the result remained the same.
Victory.
Most of his matches ended quickly, not because his opponents were weak, but because the gap in skill and decision making was clear from the start.
He consistently controlled spacing, punished mistakes cleanly, and denied momentum before it could develop.
Still, he never treated any match as meaningless.
Every round was information.
Every opponent was a test.
And even if he was winning comfortably now, it did not mean it would stay that way forever.
The competition was tightening.
The bracket was thinning.
Jin-ho was now one step away from Top 8.
Only one match remained.
His next opponent was called.
Shine.
A Lili specialist.
Known for fast-paced aggression and relentless pressure.
A player who did not give space easily once he got started.
When the name appeared on screen, Jin-ho’s expression did not change.
He only adjusted his grip on the arcade stick slightly.
Confident.
But focused.
The match began.
From the start, Shine played at a high tempo, rushing in with quick pressure strings and forcing Jin-ho into defense early.
The pace was noticeably different from his previous opponents.
For a brief moment in the first set, the pressure actually worked.
Shine managed to break through Jin-ho’s rhythm, stealing momentum and pushing him into unfamiliar situations where defense alone was not enough.
It came close.
Closer than any match so far.
But that was all it was.
Close.
Jin-ho adjusted mid-set.
He stopped reacting and started predicting.
Spacing tightened.
Punishes became sharper.
Defensive guesses turned into reads.
Slowly, control shifted back.
Once he regained momentum, the match no longer stayed close.
The second set was cleaner.
More stable.
More controlled.
Shine still tried to force his offense, but the openings became harder to find.
Every attempt to accelerate the pace was met with precise interruption or punishment.
In the end, Jin-ho closed the match.
2-0.
A clean result on paper.
But the first set had made something clear.
Against stronger, faster pressure like Shine’s, even a single lapse could change everything.
Jin-ho advanced.
Now in Top 8
And the level of opposition was only going to rise from here.