Imagine you've won your sport's most prestigious open championship seven times. You’ve contributed to building a strong community and defeated nearly everyone your country has produced since.
Then you realize: that's the problem.
That's where Arslan "Arslan Ash" Siddique found himself heading into 2026.
The seven-time EVO champion (EVO is the fighting game equivalent of one of golf’s major tournaments) had defeated most of what Pakistan had to offer, so much to the point where it was limiting his growth.
So, he packed up and moved to Japan.
Not because he was struggling. Instead, it was a decision intended to make him a better player.
Same Guys, Every Day
Most competitive fighting game players develop through local communities: small groups who train and compete against each other.
In Pakistan, Siddique’s circle had a handful of people. They played each other constantly, learned each other's tendencies, and built their games against a familiar pool of opponents.
The problem: competitive fighting games feature dozens of characters, each armed with distinct moves and strategies.
If nobody in your group plays a particular character, you don't develop instincts against them. Sure, you can study the data, but there's no substitute for live repetitions.
"I knew their style all day," Siddique said. "You get used to it. You say, 'OK, I know what you are going to do.'"
Japan, and, by proxy, East Asia, fixes that. The online infrastructure connecting Japanese and Korean players is among the best available. The competitive depth allows Siddique to face new styles every session either live or online.
Instead of familiar opponents, he's navigating through a sea of distinct styles.
The One Problem He Can't Solve Yet
Here's the paradox at the center of Siddique’s career: he performs exceptionally well in open tournaments, where any competitor in the world can enter. Seven EVO titles confirm it.
But at invitation-only championship events, like the Esports World Cup, the results haven’t come as quickly.
Think of it this way: he dominates the U.S. Open but struggles at the Masters.
Same sport, same player, different format.
Siddique offers an honest assessment as to why the invitational results haven’t come.
"I feel like maybe people have trained so much versus me,” he said. “I think I just overthink it."
From a gameplay perspective, his longstanding rivals come from Korea, whose players have the luxury of playing in a closed league three times a year where the top players battle each other between major events, giving them high-stake training against other elite players.
Pakistan had nothing comparable. Between online infrastructure and its deep player pool, Korean players arrive at closed brackets sharpened.
Siddique aims to build a similar environment for himself in Japan, one daily session at a time.
"I still need to find the answer," he said.
That honesty is what makes him worth paying attention to beyond the trophies.
Mindset Of A Champion
What Arslan Ash is doing isn't unusual among the truly great.
The ones who sustain excellence don't coast once they've won. They find the next gap and move toward it.
In his case, that meant leaving the country he helped build into a top three region in his game, and saying he isn't finished yet.
As of late February, he was still setting up his space and getting used to it: camera in one corner, screen in another, figuring out where to look to talk to people.
Seven EVO titles in, and he's still mid-setup. Still finding the gaps.
That's what the great ones do.
Paul Delos Santos covers the Fighting Game Community and Riot Games ecosystem for The Sporting Tribune and Inside Esports, a newsletter publishing every Tuesday and Friday. Subscribe at insideesports.media.