Seoyeon felt quite unfairly treated. She was sure that when she played alone, she never got matched against opponents this skilled.

    But when she played with a team of five, everything felt different. The top lane, known as a place where only the logic of strength prevailed, was her favorite. It was often referred to as "the man''s lane," a battlefield of pure might, which suited Seoyeon perfectly.

    She especially despised Teemo, the annoying little creature that looked weak but tormented her with its poisonous darts and eerie laugh.

    Teemo: “Is this your first time playing?”

    Being taunted by such a character with poisonous darts only made her anger boil over. This wasn’t the first time Seoyeon had faced a Teemo, but this one was far better than any she had encountered before. His skills were on another level—she couldn’t land a single stun.

    “If only this was before the patch...”

    She might have been able to defeat him then. Her hands trembled with frustration.

    “Why doesn’t this world have virtual reality games?”

    In most gender-swap (TS) stories, the protagonist would dominate their enemies in virtual reality games, match up against famous streamers, and receive praise for their incredible reaction times and physical abilities. Seoyeon possessed the reflexes and coordination that would have made her a legend in such a world.

    Thwack!

    Parry!

    Argh!!

    Thwack!

    Parry!!

    Argh!!

    But in this game, League of Legends, there was no parrying—no way to counter the endless barrage of Teemo’s poison darts. If this were a virtual reality game, she would have effortlessly parried the poison and heard the amazed reactions of her opponents. Instead, she was just getting holes punched in her head by those damn darts.

    “Just wait a bit, I’ll be back up there soon,” Baek Geunsoo, the club president, offered, trying to gauge Seoyeon’s mood. But she shook her head firmly.

    “I’m fine,” she insisted.

    Seoyeon prided herself on her strong mental resilience, and for the most part, this was true. She rarely got angry over anything. The last time she had truly felt her blood boil was when she witnessed how the other members of Summer Girl treated Cha Nahyi, but this was different.

    She recalled what her mother, Sua, often said to her father, who took gaming a bit too seriously.

    “Calm down, it’s just a game.”

    Seoyeon had always agreed with her mother’s sentiment. Games were meant to be fun, after all.

    “I can win this!” she declared confidently.

    She couldn’t tolerate the idea of anyone else interfering in her sacred top lane. It would feel like admitting defeat if she accepted help.

    And so, she kept playing, even as her deaths mounted—three, then four. Soon, she spent more time looking at the gray screen than actually playing. But she still held on.

    That is, until Teemo’s next message popped up.

    Teemo: “Are you a girl?”

    And that was when Seoyeon’s mouse shattered in her hand.

    “Are you okay?!” Baek Geunsoo exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. The other students also stopped playing and stared in shock.

    “Is she injured?”

    “She’s an actress! What if this becomes a big deal?”

    The idea of a mouse exploding out of nowhere was unheard of. Had the battery inside the mouse somehow exploded? But it was just a standard Logitech mouse, wasn’t it?

    As Baek Geunsoo left his character standing idle and rushed over, Seoyeon raised her hand. Her hand was smooth and unscathed, not at all what you’d expect from someone who had just shattered a mouse.

    “I’m fine,” she said in a strangely calm voice.@@@@

    But everyone in the room could feel it—the deep, simmering anger beneath that calm tone. It was the kind of rage that made you think she might tear Teemo in half if she met him in real life.

    “Here,” Jiyeon sighed, pulling out a mouse and handing it to Seoyeon.

    “This is the one I use for gaming... so please, don’t break it.”

    Jiyeon had anticipated something like this might happen, so she had brought her own mouse just in case. It was better to sacrifice her own equipment than to break the club’s property.

    “A gaming mouse...”

    Seoyeon took the mouse from Jiyeon. It was relatively new, likely something Jiyeon had bought for her streams as Ramiel.

    Seoyeon’s anger began to subside, replaced by a renewed sense of determination. The 0/7/0 KDA no longer mattered.

    Baek Geunsoo thought about the game League of Legends and how it wasn’t just about physical skills. It required a lot of strategy and memorization. Knowing how to capitalize on advantages during fights was crucial to securing victory.

    “She’s actually not bad,” he thought when he first saw Seoyeon play. Her CS (creep score) was pretty decent for someone of her rank, and her control was good. If only she wasn’t up against a champion with targeted skills, her physical abilities would have shone even more.

    “But her game sense... well, let’s just say it’s lacking.”

    Of course, Baek Geunsoo had been keeping an eye on the top lane to help out if needed, so he could see what was happening. Seoyeon had a tendency to dive headfirst into fights without thinking. It was as if she believed she could hit her opponent even when they weren’t visible.

    For the record, Seoyeon’s rank was Silver. The vast difference left her feeling dizzy. And Jiyeon didn’t even play that much!

    “By the way, Ju Seoyeon,” Jiyeon suddenly said.

    “Hm?”

    “I got the script.”

    The script. Seoyeon immediately knew what she was talking about—the script for the Gyeongseong Lady audition.

    “They’re giving out the scripts in advance, not at the audition? That’s considerate.”

    It was a kind gesture, Seoyeon thought. Most auditions involved cold readings on the spot, so getting the script ahead of time was unusual.

    “...I was wondering if you could help me practice,” Jiyeon said hesitantly.

    Ah, she’s asking for help, Seoyeon thought as she nodded, about to agree.

    “Could you ask Jo Seohui to join us?” Jiyeon added.

    Seoyeon’s eyes widened slightly. It seemed that while she had been busy with her own schedule, Jiyeon and Jo Seohui had become much closer than she had anticipated.

    Hyper Action Star, despite being a cable variety show, had quickly become one of the most anticipated productions, surpassing many network shows in popularity.

    The 10-minute teaser was nothing short of impressive. Over the years, there had been countless audition programs covering various genres, but the only ones people really remembered were the idol audition shows. The others? Most people didn’t even know they existed.

    Many of them failed, and the networks often had to swallow massive losses.

    “This Hyper Action Star has about five central characters we’re focusing on,” PD Lee Kitae said, addressing the production team. There were clear favorites among the investors, who had their own hopes for certain actors.

    “Ju Seoyeon.”

    She was the first name mentioned, and for good reason. The teaser had become a sensation largely because of her. The moment she literally jumped from the third floor of a building had captured everyone’s attention.

    Sure, there was an air mattress below, but it still took guts to leap off without any safety gear. However, the production team was later criticized for allowing such a risky stunt.

    “Even with an air mattress, it’s not 100% safe,” people complained, forcing the crew to promise they’d be more cautious in the future.

    “Who could’ve expected someone to just jump like that?”

    “Exactly! Who would’ve thought she’d leap without any ropes or harnesses?”

    There hadn’t been any time to stop her. She had glanced down for a moment, and then she just... jumped.

    Still, with the buzz they’d generated, it was worth enduring some backlash.

    “Besides her, there’s Jo Seohui... and Han Soyu,” Lee Kitae continued, murmuring as he glanced at a few photos.

    “Min Doha is a bit disappointing.”

    “She did everything well but was too ordinary.”

    “Still, those types often end up winning.”

    While it would be ideal if someone like Jo Seohui won, the unfortunate truth was that she didn’t have much experience with action scenes. Ju Seoyeon had at least been praised for her action scenes in The Chaser and had received high marks from Professor Kim Hongbaek.

    “But this is different from working with professional stunt actors.”

    Stunt actors had grit and tenacity. For them, this lead role was everything. Could these regular actresses compete with that? It was hard to say.

    There was a difference between actors who only did action and those who did action as well. However, Hyper Action Star was placing a heavy emphasis on action.

    That was the wild card.

    “So, next, we’re giving out missions and filming scenes with each group. What scene did Group A get?” PD Lee Kitae asked, as the production team reviewed the upcoming scenes.

    Group A was Seoyeon’s group and the one currently attracting the most attention. The scenes had been drawn randomly, and Group A had already filmed theirs.

    The scene Group A had drawn was...

    “A shootout scene, with a bit of a chase,” the staff replied.

    A shootout in an urban setting, crafted as a scene to be performed.

    That was the mission for this round of Hyper Action Star.