Steam 설치
로그인 | 언어
简体中文(중국어 간체) 繁體中文(중국어 번체) 日本語(일본어) ไทย(태국어) Български(불가리아어) Čeština(체코어) Dansk(덴마크어) Deutsch(독일어) English(영어) Español - España(스페인어 - 스페인) Español - Latinoamérica(스페인어 - 중남미) Ελληνικά(그리스어) Français(프랑스어) Italiano(이탈리아어) Bahasa Indonesia(인도네시아어) Magyar(헝가리어) Nederlands(네덜란드어) Norsk(노르웨이어) Polski(폴란드어) Português(포르투갈어 - 포르투갈) Português - Brasil(포르투갈어 - 브라질) Română(루마니아어) усский(러시아어) Suomi(핀란드어) Svenska(스웨덴어) Türkçe(튀르키예어) Tiếng Việt( 트남어) Українська(우크라이나어) 번역 관 문 보
In the lawless days of early competitive 6v6 TF2, before team strategies were drilled into every aspiring soldier’s skull, before coaches begged their roamers to "play smart," there was one man who spat in the face of common sense. His name was Bartholomew "Yolo" Rocket, and his playstyle was less "roaming soldier" and more "human missile with brain damage." While traditional roamers played to create space, coordinate bombs, and survive for the next engagement, Bartholomew did none of that. He would roll out with Gunboats, rocket jump straight past mid fight, and appear behind the enemy combo before his team even arrived. "He's feeding," they cried. "Roamers don’t go for med picks at 200 HP with no backup!" But Bartholomew didn’t care. He wasn’t here to live. He was here to send a message. And that message was: if I die, I take someone with me.