Himass and TanVuu: Two Names Erased from the PUBG Track

They cried. Not because they lost a match, but because they were erased from the very game they had spent their youth chasing. On VTVcab, Himass and TanVuu sat side by side, tears streaming down their cheeks, recounting the story behind KRAFTON's penalty. For years of competing at the highest level, the camera had never panned toward them when the last shot rang out. Now, when everything has closed, they finally have a frame to speak. The seventh-place finisher also has a name on the track. In esports, that name is usually erased with a single notification, nothing more. PUBG Asia Stars 2026 is an international stage organized by KRAFTON, where Southeast Asian teams have the chance to face the continent's strongest opponents. For a growing PUBG market like Vietnam, this is not just a tournament — it is a career springboard. One appearance can change a player's entire trajectory. After that event, Himass and TanVuu were banned from all global PUBG tournaments. No specific duration was mentioned in the interview. No details about the violation. Only the result: two names crossed out. As soon as the incident occurred, the organization Anyone's Legend (AL) — where Himass competed — asked him not to speak out and to let the organization handle it. This is a standard crisis management approach for esports organizations, but it also means the player loses the right to defend himself during the most critical period. For TanVuu, the situation was heavier. The Expendables (TE) — his managing team — submitted an appeal with information intended to protect the player. But according to the interview, TE did not receive the response it expected. Afterward, TE decided to disband its PUBG roster. A personal penalty dragged down an entire organization. The numbers on the stat sheet are the ashes of the match. But here, the most notable number is not on the scoreboard. It is 4.1 million signatures — the number the fan community collected to demand justice for the two players. It is a sign that the audience's trust in the publisher's handling process is being tested. Watching Southeast Asian PUBG matches for years, I have noticed one thing: Vietnamese organizations rarely have enough resources to pursue prolonged legal battles with a foreign publisher. This case is no exception. Three layers of problems overlap. First, the appeal process. Both AL and TE submitted appeals to KRAFTON. Neither received a positive response. When a penalty can end a career, the punished party needs to know what they violated, what the evidence is, and how many chances they have to rebut. Second, the damage spreads. TE disbanding its PUBG roster is not just one organization's decision. It is a sign that Vietnamese esports teams struggle to fight against a publisher's decision. A personal penalty inadvertently becomes a collective one. Third, the community's response. The Korean Game Users Association spoke up, asking the PUBG PC publisher to explain the handling process of the ASIA STAR incident. This is a rare escalation: a consumer protection organization in Korea questioning a Korean publisher about how it treated Vietnamese players. But there is a question few dare to ask: was the penalty actually wrong? In esports, rules against cheating and match manipulation exist for a reason — to protect the integrity of competition. If the evidence is clear, punishment is necessary. The problem is not whether to punish, but how to punish. The track is measured in seconds, but the pain is measured in years. For a 20-year-old player, an indefinite ban means years of accumulated skill and experience become worthless. Meanwhile, the appeal process is not transparent enough for the punished to understand what they are facing. The blind spot here is not the players' morality, but the power structure between publisher and player. The publisher holds the final say, the right to interpret the rules, and the right to decide whether to respond to an appeal. The player — even at the peak of his career — remains in a weak position. Himass once said he planned to compete with Taikonn until the end of this year before considering retirement. TanVuu wanted to play about two more years to enjoy the remaining time with esports. Both had fallback plans: Himass planned to drive Grab, TanVuu planned to switch to business and online selling. Both also answered decisively that they would not return to PUBG even if unbanned. They sent thanks to PewPew — a senior figure in the community — and to the fans. When a player no longer wants to return to the arena even after being cleared, the issue is no longer the punishment. The issue is trust. And trust, once lost, cannot be measured by any stat sheet.