Irina smirked on the outside, but deep inside, she was already hating this.
Why?
Because this game—this cursed, rage-inducing game—had been a stain on her pride ever since she had touched it.
She hadn't even wanted to start playing at first. But then, Julia—that smug, taunting menace—had introduced her to it.
"It's fun, Irina! It's all about strategy and mechanics! You'd like it!"
That was how it had begun.
And she had fallen.
Hard.
Not because she actually enjoyed it—no, no, no—it was because, at some point, she realized something horrifying:
She was stuck in silver.
Meanwhile, Julia? That traitor was sitting comfortably in platinum, looking down on her like some high-ranking noble watching a peasant struggle in the dirt.
"Oh? You're still silver, Irina? That's kind of embarrassing, don't you think?"
Every. Single. Time.
No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many sleepless nights she spent queuing up, something always went wrong.
