Chick 280
by Cristae280
Chapter: The Exchange Match
The debate over whether Groo would truly take the field as a starting member never ceased.
This inevitably sparked controversy over Hyeonak’s directoral authority as well, but, as always, Joorim remained steadfastly silent.
Though opposition regarding Groo’s selection was fierce, replacing the director at this point was realistically impossible.
Thus, Team Korea’s lineup was finalized: Gidan, Sergey, Lee Taemin, On Groo, and Jeong Chaerin (as substitute).
And so, on the day of the exchange match—
There was not a single empty seat in the stadium; the stands were packed to capacity.
Crowds had gathered to watch the rookies who would lead the future of the Hunter world, to see whether Hyeonak’s arrogant self-imposed handicap would finally collapse.
Groo, watching the multitude on the waiting room screen, gaped in astonishment.
Are there really this many people?
Of course, for safety, the match was being held on a separate field, and the stadium’s central screen would broadcast the footage.
Thump-thump.
Nervous, Groo grabbed tightly onto Taemin’s hand. Taemin, visibly a bit tense himself, gave him a reassuring smile.
With Gidan and Sergey sure to hold their own, the two had agreed in advance to be each other’s partners for this match.
Just then, Joorim zipped up Groo’s Team Korea uniform to his chin and said quietly,
“If you ever feel like you don’t want to do this, just tell me. It’s okay.”
Hugging the Chick Drone close, Groo shook his head from side to side and spoke with determination.
“No, I want to show the German team.”
Joorim gave a small laugh.
He couldn’t help but recall Groo laboring over the drone for days on end.
How he’d sat quietly with his toys, mimicking engine noises—“brrrrr,” “vrrrrm”—endlessly. Even now, those sounds seemed to echo in Joorim’s ears.
Groo held the Chick Drone tightly in his arms with a resolute expression.
He’d insisted on keeping its new features secret until match day, determined to unveil them inside the arena itself, so all Joorim really knew was that Groo had poured his heart and soul into building it.
He hadn’t even formally tested it yet, so there was no grade assigned—and there was the real worry of whether it would even function in an actual match…
But—
Joorim, despite all the trouble Groo had caused over the years, recognized that he had a fundamental faith in him.
It reminded him of how he used to feel about his older brother. An unshakable belief that, somehow, Groo would pull through.
That was why, even knowing Groo might seem like a tremendous burden in this match, he’d never tried to talk him out of playing.
Because he knew Groo would manage, one way or another.
And if he succeeded, public opinion would turn on a dime.
“All right.”
Joorim nodded, and Groo beamed.
“It’s time to head in.”
Gidan swept in, smiling, with the staff.
“Hunters, please enter now.”
Joorim checked Groo’s shoelaces and uniform one last time and then followed the children as they filed out to the arena.
At the same moment, the German team appeared, lining up beside Team Korea as they filed down the tunnel.
Joorim felt the sting of two pointed stares and glanced aside.
One belonged to Thomas Kunz, coach of the German team.
Given the man’s inferiority complex toward him, it was only to be expected that Kunz was burning with determination.
The other… Lea Müller?
…Why?
Lea Müller glared fiercely at Joorim when their eyes met, then turned sharply away.
…?
Joorim, genuinely baffled at the reaction, just followed the coaching staff into the zone, a question mark in his head.
At last, as both teams emerged from the opening, the roar of the crowd rained down, echoing through the stadium’s speakers.
“Waaaaaaaa!!”
Before the cheers could crash down like a waterfall, Gidan raised a barrier around Groo.
He was worried that Groo might be startled or overwhelmed.
Gidan flashed a crooked smile.
“Groo-groo, are you ready?”
“Yay!”
Groo pumped his little fist in the air, and the camera zoomed in on his face.
He couldn’t hear it inside the barrier, but the cheers redoubled outside.
Pleased, Gidan nodded.
“A cute kid can’t lose.”
Then, opposite Gidan, the German team captain, wearing a translator, gave a sarcastic sneer.
“So Gidan came out as a babysitter today?”
Gidan chortled.
“Getting cold feet about losing to a cute babysitter?”
“Which one is supposed to be cute?”
The German captain looked between Gidan and Groo; Gidan pointed to himself, at which the captain made a sour face.
“Ugh!”
“Let’s have a good match.”
Gidan, still stifling a laugh, offered his hand.
The German captain stiffly shook it.
Korea was the strongest of the strong.
Though the two teams had always been close in these exchange matches, Korea generally held the upper hand.
But—
“This time, we’ll never lose.”
Gidan gave the drone Groo was hugging a playful shake.
“You’ll see what our Chick Drone-kun can do.”
At that, Groo said in a grave tone,
“This is the Mephisto series Mk. 3.”
The captain snorted with laughter, but Gidan just shrugged.
With that, the two teams moved to their starting points, and the match began.
“Sparks are flying between both teams even before the start.”
The commentators watched as Korea and Germany exchanged greetings.
“This is unusual to see.”
“Bringing a kindergartener onto Korea’s team—no wonder Germany is so riled up. ‘Are you really going to disrespect us like this? Then we won’t lose either’—that’s the mood. Oh, now the teams are taking their places. Are we about to hear the whistle? This is really the most nerve-wracking moment. No signs of nerves from Team Korea. Yes! The match is starting now!”
The exchange match took place on a massive field made up of a war-ravaged city, spiked with ruined buildings along the sides and growing into a dense forest toward the center.
The camera cut to the central forest, showing monsters pulsing among the trees.
Scattered throughout the field were standard monsters and boss monsters; whichever team contributed more within the time limit by defeating monsters would win.
Then, the camera focused in on an unusual movement by the German team.
The commentators couldn’t hide their surprise.
“Wait—Germany is heading straight for the boss.”
“Normally, teams take down standard monsters first to build up buffs and then go for the boss. That way, you increase your hit chance and avoid mishaps. But Germany is going straight for the boss, no hesitation.”
“Ah—Lea, the German hunter, is using her skill. Six wings unfurl, protecting the team. That must be the famous Blessing.”
“That’s right. With an S-rank buff like that, they must feel they can bypass the team buffs you’d normally farm from regular monsters.”
Sure enough, Germany’s confidence was no bluff.
At the top of the screen, a red gauge displaying the boss’s HP started dropping rapidly as Germany seized the advantage.
Moreover, the team dodged the boss “Priestess Riela’s” poison pits in perfect unison, prompting exclamations from the commentators.
“Wow! The German team’s teamwork is incredible. The way they move together as one is nothing short of breathtaking.”
“Most teams with lower coordination end up wasting a lot of health in those poison pits. Not these guys—not at all.”
[‘Germany’ has defeated the Phase 1 ‘Priestess Riela (Left)’.]
There are three bosses in Phase 1.
[‘Germany’ has defeated the Phase 1 ‘Sad Crown (Left)’.]
While Team Korea had yet to take down even a single Phase 1 boss, Germany had already put away two, opening up a sizable lead.
“Team Korea may have outstanding individuals, but their uncertain support line makes it essential to build buffs first. That’s why they’re trailing early.”
“But there’s still Phase 4 to go. It’s too soon to call the result.”
The camera panned to the anxious faces of Team Korea’s supporters in the stands.
Both teams were more than skilled enough at boss fighting; it would come down to speed.
If the gap widened too quickly in the opening phase, there’d be no chance to catch up.
“It is a matter of speed, but the endgame’s important too. So it’s fine for our team to take it slow at first.”
“Yes, that’s right. Playing it steady and by the book, rather than cutting corners, is a sound strategy.”
While the broadcasters tried to keep hope alive—
“In fact, Team Korea must have expected to lose the early phase—wait, what’s this?”
Notifications began to flash at the top of the screen.
[‘Korea’ has defeated Phase 1 ‘Priestess Riela (Right)’.]
[‘Korea’ has defeated Phase 1 ‘Sad Crown (Right)’.]
[‘Korea’ has defeated Phase 1 ‘Aether Knight (Right)’.]
[‘Korea’ is advancing to Phase 2.]