“…You have to say that Atafami is god-tier.”
✦ ✦ ✦
Obviously, I eight-stocked him.
✦ ✦ ✦
nanashi: gg
Koki: good game
✦ ✦ ✦
The next day, I was playing online matches in Attack Families—which everyone calls Atafami. Since players can chat online with one another, it’s considered polite to exchange a few words after the game. Of course, I had just won.
My winrate was going up steadily. After the rankings were reset four months earlier, I’d climbed to the number one spot in Japan in just a couple weeks and stayed there without any real threat ever since. My gaming handle is nanashi, which means no-name. I chose it because I was embarrassed to give myself a name, and plus “no-name” sounded cool. No connection to my real name, Fumiya Tomozaki.
Before the rates were reset, I’ll admit, I dropped down the rankings a couple of times, but I was still almost always in the top spot. It would probably be accurate to say I don’t have any real competition in Japan.
Atafami has more players than any other online PvP, thanks to its unusually high quality. In fact, if I’m the top player in this game, I might as well say I’m the best gamer in Japan. Maybe.
There’s only one other Atafami player I pay attention to, partly because of their handle: NO NAME. They’ve never actually stolen my place as number one, but for the past couple of months they’ve been right there behind me at number two. This whole time, as far as I know, no one’s stolen their place, either. In other words, nanashi and NO NAME have monopolized the top two spots.
In part because our names are so close, a false but plausible rumor has been going around the online gaming community that both accounts belong to the same person.
As nanashi himself, let me assure you right now. Nanashi and NO NAME are two completely different people.
Still, there is circumstantial evidence for the theory: the fact that NO NAME only appeared in the Atafami world a few months ago; the fact that they rocketed to second place at an impossible speed for someone so new; and most of all, the fact that nanashi and NO NAME have never competed head on. After all, we both use Found, and we seem to have similar playing styles. NO NAME probably learned from watching videos of me in the game archives.
✦ ✦ ✦
nanashi: gg
Yukichi: gg. You’re super good!
nanashi: Thanks. Bye.
✦ ✦ ✦
Once again, I won and left the match. Sure, I still lose occasionally, but these days even that has started to take on aspects of a fight against myself. I never lose because of my opponent’s skills—it’s almost always because of a mistake on my side. That’s why even at number one, it’s still worth putting in effort. I can still say I have room to grow.
I had just been thinking that my next goal should be to reduce errors during fights when I glanced at the name written in the NEXT OPPONENT box and my breath caught in my throat.
✦ ✦ ✦
I could feel my pulse starting to pound my head.
For the first time in ages, I was looking forward to a good fight. I could feel my grasp on the controller tightening.
The game started, and right away I was surprised. I had thought NO NAME was copying my playstyle, but their opening moves showed me I was completely wrong.
I charged at my enemy, already planning my combo. But NO NAME was standing on alert, charging a projectile attack.
It was the one thing I felt could put me at a disadvantage in a mirror match between two Founds.
What’s more, it wasn’t a coincidence. I didn’t have any evidence, but the thought occurred to me all the same.
For some reason, I could tell they’d studied me but weren’t merely copying my style. They’d gone as far as developing their own counterstrategy.
Even more surprising was the unparalleled precision of NO NAME’s movements and their overwhelming ability to get out of combos. The tiniest hesitation on my part and they were instantly free.
I still had the better neutral game, and I was better at pulling off flashy combos, but honestly speaking, just in terms of escaping, they were already beyond me.
I should admit I’m not very good at that. The reason being I’m too good to get caught very often. It’s one of my few weak points.
Basically, don’t get comboed to start with, and you’ll never need to break out.
That’s my approach for all of my moves. Which means the moment NO NAME reaches my level in terms of neutral game and combo potential, I’ll lose because I’m not great at escaping.
And I’d be willing to bet NO NAME is already aiming for that goal.
How do I know? It’s easy.
Given NO NAME’s overall skill level, they’re way too good at getting out of combos.
Someone who’s this good at the game wouldn’t get pulled into combos often enough to practice getting out of them. That’s why most of the top players—myself included—are great at offense and not so great at defense.
But this NO NAME…they’ve got way too much defensive experience for the number two player in Japan. They must have made it their strength.
Which means NO NAME has had a lot of opportunities to get into combos—to be specific, they’ve made a point of getting caught on a regular basis for the sake of practice.
So NO NAME sacrificed the immediate gratification of winrates and the thrill of playing well in exchange for eventual skill and long-term position. They’re prioritizing their ability months from now, even if it means being at a disadvantage in whatever game they’re currently playing, letting their winrate drop, and watching their ranking and reputation suffer.
Some people might say they’re deliberately dropping in the ranks to show off against weaker players, but they’d be wrong. It’s right and proper training.
At the very least, I don’t know of any other player who’s traded instant gratification for such clear and comprehensive results.
NO NAME. I thought I’d be the top player in Japan forever, but I can’t be quite so sure anymore. All I can say is this: If any Atafami player in Japan is going to pass me up, it’ll be this person.
Those were the thoughts running through my mind as we duked it out at our current skill levels, and I won with two lives to spare.