KRAFTON Reaps 'Bitter Fruit' after Banning Vietnamese Players at PUBG Asia Stars 2026: Korean Brands Turn Away in Droves

Baek-eok Coffee stopped at one word: "verification." On September 20, the Korean coffee brand announced it was suspending all promotional activities related to PUBG Asia Stars 2026, pending a "transparency check" from the publisher. In my line of work, when a sponsor uses the word "verification," it means they want to pull money without burning bridges. Four days later, Kkanbu Chicken and No Gear followed. Then Seoul FC — a K-League club — announced it was cancelling its booth from September 29 to October 4. All because of an account ban.

I have followed PUBG Vietnam since the game appeared on Steam in 2026. The community grew incredibly fast, but Vietnamese esports has an old wound: rulings from publishers come from outside, with no local voice.

PUBG Asia Stars 2026 is a new kind of tournament — 48 Asian players and streamers placed on the same stage, mixing high-level competition with entertainment appeal. That blend creates a grey zone in conduct rules. During a match, Korean player Soopi clashed with two Vietnamese players, Himass (Lã Phương Tiến Đạt) and Tan Vuu (Trần Tấn Vũ). KRAFTON quickly issued a penalty: both Vietnamese accounts were permanently banned. No details of the violation. No word on whether Soopi was punished.

That information vacuum fuelled an outpouring of anger. I learned during the COVID season of 2026 that when people stop meeting, numbers start talking. Here the numbers are scattered across the moves of four sponsors: Baek-eok, Kkanbu, No Gear, Seoul FC.

When a publisher holds all three roles — game maker, tournament organizer, and judge — the transparency of the process becomes the only asset left to hold onto trust. KRAFTON did not use that asset. There is no independent arbitration panel, no clear appeals channel, no concrete explanation of the basis for a permanent ban.

Korean fans on Naver — the home crowd, usually expected to side with the home team — almost unanimously sided with the brands. A user named A.F wrote that cooperating with a controversial company is "a big burden." Another, Gyeonbini, said KRAFTON "deserves to go downhill." A fan nicknamed Dlwl did not blame the players but said KRAFTON's handling made them "pay a heavy price." Most striking is that many said they were "completely unsurprised." In my trade, when a community is no longer surprised by a scandal, trust died long ago.

Sitting in the back row of the Chinese esports transfer market, I once wrote that a beer in Moscow does not sign contracts, but it pours something stronger: trust. Contracts can be redrafted; trust cannot. KRAFTON can renegotiate with sponsors, but the price it pays is in its own domestic market — where the withdrawal wave has already spread from gaming brands to a football club.

But do not rush to conclude that the brands withdrew because they believe the Vietnamese players are innocent. They withdrew out of brand-safety concerns — No Gear explicitly cited concerns about "fairness and transparency." This is a defensive reaction, not necessarily a verdict on right or wrong. The details of Himass and Tan Vuu's violation remain in the dark. If those two players truly committed serious violations, the brands could still return after KRAFTON publishes evidence — Baek-eok Coffee even left the door open with the phrase "pending transparent verification."

The blind spot lies elsewhere: public anger may have run ahead of the facts. The online community does not need a formal ruling to condemn; it needs a symbol for the unfairness it perceives. KRAFTON, in its dual role, became that symbol. In a pile of 2026 files, I learned to hear the rustle of banknotes before the white paper; now the whole market is hearing banknotes, while the white paper — the official ruling — has yet to be opened.

This is not just about two banned accounts. It is an institutional test: can KRAFTON prove that a publisher-cum-referee is still capable of transparency? If the answer is no, the consequences go far beyond KRAFTON alone, becoming a warning signal for the entire esports ecosystem where publishers hold all the power. The withdrawal wave may stop when contracts are re-signed, but cracked trust will keep echoing through every Naver comment, every Vietnamese viewer.

No one has written the final page of this file yet. We can only hear the rustle of banknotes.