APGD 31

Chapter 31

“99th Year Since Debut
Pro Gamer”

Park Yong-won immediately called Kang Ha-neul.

Before long—click—the call connected.

• “Heeey~ Yong-won-hyung! What’s up?”

“Hey, Ha-neul. Can you step outside for a sec?”

• “Didn’t we just see each other at team practice earlier? Why so sudden again?”

Maybe his sound settings were high, because even though it wasn’t on speaker mode, Kang Ha-neul’s voice came through the receiver loud and clear.

“I’m already near your place! Come out real quick! The ‘Give Me Your Money (豚) BBQ’ spot!”

• “Just see me tomorrow, Yong-won-hyung! I just got matched into ranked!”

“Do-su is calling you! He’s got something to say.”

No sooner had Park Yong-won finished than Kang Ha-neul burst into rapid-fire words like a machine gun.

• “I’m on my way, 5 minutes tops! Tell Do-su hyung to wait just a little bit for me!”

I spoke up from across the table so my voice would carry through the receiver.

“Ha-neul. It’s fine, take your time. I’ll wait.”

Park Yong-won pulled his ear away from the phone and stared at the screen with wide eyes.

“What the hell is this? I call and he refuses. But when Do-su calls, he literally dodges queue just to come?”

• “Coming right away, Do-su-hyung! Wait for meee~!”

“This punk is seriously insa—”

Click.

The call ended just like that.

Park Yong-won tilted his head sideways, slapping the back of his neck with his palm. A shadow briefly flickered across his eyes.

“So, Do-su… should we cure the hangover today with spicy beef soup, or galbitang?”

“Huh? What?”

…Maybe I should call Ha-neul back and warn him to run away.

It didn’t even take Ha-neul three minutes to arrive. Practically sprinted, not walked.

The moment he sat down, Yong-won landed a couple of one-sided flicks to his forehead.

Then, before long, the atmosphere turned serious. The conversation began. And the result was exactly as expected.

“I wanna try too, Do-su-hyung! Not just a single portion—no! I’ll be a top laner who can take on 2 or 3 servings’ worth of responsibility! Leave it to me!”

Ha-neul even raised his hand like a grade-schooler, strongly declaring his intent to join. The sight was so ridiculous I almost burst out laughing.

“Alright. I’ll be counting on you.”

Though it felt a little awkward, I gave Ha-neul a firm handshake.

Good. That’s two convinced… Next up is Jo-jun-hyung.

I jumped up from my seat.

“Then, if anything comes up regarding team negotiations, I’ll share it with you later. For now, both of you just focus on prepping for the tournament.”

“Okay, Do-su-hyung!!”

“Yeah, Do-su. If there’s ever anything I can do to help, just say the word!”

Ha-neul left the BBQ restaurant with Yong-won.

Since my house was in the opposite direction, I had already parted ways.

“Yong-won-hyung, isn’t it kinda touching? Do-su-hyung could walk into any powerhouse team he wanted, but instead he says he wants to go pro with us. That really hit me in the feels.”

Yong-won nodded quickly.

“Exactly. Even if we call it faith in our ‘potential,’ it doesn’t change the fact that Do-su is giving up so much to stick with us.”

Ha-neul stopped walking, speaking with conviction.

“Someday, we gotta pay him back twice—no, ten times over!! I’ll follow Do-su-hyung no matter what happens. Especially betrayal? I’d rather die first!”

Yong-won also froze mid-step, turning his head back with a smirk tugging at one corner of his lips.

“Of course. That’s why we have to grind like hell so we’re never dead weight. From today on, we go all out.”

“Got it! Just watch, I’ll surpass your rank first!”

“Ugh… this brat again!”

“Oh, right! But hyung!”

“What!”

Ha-neul pointed at Yong-won’s head with his finger.

“Practicing is good and all, but if you’re thinking about future pro team meetings… shouldn’t you do something about that blonde hair first?”

“….”

“I’m serious. To strangers you just look like a bleached, tanned thug—”

“I knooow, idiot! I was already planning to dye it back!”

Meanwhile, at that same time.

Jeong Jo-jun lay sprawled across his apartment sofa, groaning.

“Ugh… my stomach hurts.”

Maybe because he drank way beyond his limit last night.

By nightfall the headache and dizziness had mostly faded, but the stomach burn still lingered.

Just then, a woman handed him honey water with an annoyed look.

“Knew this would happen. After all that soju, you even cracked open whiskey? Tsk. No way your stomach’s fine after that.”

It was his older sister, Jeong Hye-yoon—his stream manager and YouTube editor.

“Whew… arigato. Thanks. But really, I’m almost back to full condition now.”

“Then cancel your stream break and go live now!”

Jo-jun avoided her gaze, whistling.

“On second thought… I think I still feel a bit of a headache…”

“Yah, Jeong Jo-jun! Did you even notice your expenses are higher than your income this month? Your credit card bill was a mess!”

“Really?”

“At this rate your account’s gonna go negative! Stop wasting money like crazy!”

“Hm, weird… my spending’s always perfect. Oh! Maybe my income is wrong?”

She picked up a couch cushion and flung it at his face.

“Ugh, I can’t with you! Anyway! Quit sulking and stream properly tomorrow!”

Truth was, Jo-jun had been full of anticipation lately.

He was sure this stove league season, some team would send him an offer. His ranked form had been great, and his rating was high.

But… the pro world was cold.

No love calls.

He’d even sent reverse offers to multiple teams—second divisions at that—only to be ignored across the board.

No wonder he drowned himself in booze all night.

Sigh… Is pro debut impossible again this year? Next year I’ll be 23. It’s only gonna get harder.

His eyes sank heavy with gloom.

Then—

Clap!

Hye-yoon suddenly slapped her hands as if she’d remembered something.

“Oh right! Jo-jun! Remember that friend you said you wanted to invite as a guest? The one with insane mechanics?”

“Who? Penta?”

“Yeah! You said you got close. What happened with the guest invite?”

“Well, we exchanged numbers and we’re pretty friendly now… but he still seems reluctant to appear on stream.”

“Really? Then… did you watch Rajan’s recent stream?”

Jo-jun perked up.

“Rajan-hyung’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, you mean when he went to spectate that tourney?”

“Exactly, that one!!”

“Of course I saw it! That guy—what was it, Lee Do-su? Anyway, that TacticMaker dude was nuts. Played Chad like a literal god.”

“Yeah, him! Why not invite him instead?”

Her eyes shone with desperation. But Jo-jun grimaced.

“What?! No way! You just want to see that TacticMaker in person, don’t you?”

“Ugh, why not! You just said he was amazing!”

“Well, yeah. But Rajan-hyung already beat us to inviting him. Why would I jump on late?”

“Still! Just try! His face alone on cam would blow up views. I’ll even edit the YouTube video extra carefully. It’s my lifelong wish, pleeease!”

He waved his hand dismissively.

“Then go get his number yourself. We can’t even contact him, how are we supposed to invite—”

Just then—

Ring ring!

His phone buzzed.

Caller ID: penta.

Jo-jun shot upright on the couch.

Click.

“Oh, Penta!”

• “Hyung, you busy?”

“No! Day off today, just resting. Ugh, maybe I went too hard last night. My stomach’s killing me.”

• “Why, something wrong?”

“Not really… I mean, scrimming with you boosted my lane confidence. But no team’s recognizing my worth.”

Jo-jun moved into his room, speaking further.

“So? Why’d you call? Wanna practice?”

• “Not scrims. I was thinking maybe duo today. You feeling up for it?”

“Yeah, yeah! Just some stomach pain. I can definitely game. But… duo? With us both being mids, one of us has to switch. Should I jungle?”

• “Nah. Let’s go together.”

“Huh?”

• “Let’s duo bot. I’ll support. You go ADC.”

From the receiver came an offer he hadn’t remotely expected.

Jo-jun’s shift from mid to ADC wasn’t coincidence.

It was something that had happened every single time across dozens of regressions.

In other words—it was inevitable.

Even if I never interacted with him, half a year later, next summer, he would switch positions.

And another half year after that, in the spring season, he’d debut as a pro—making waves as an ADC.

But waiting a whole year is too long.

Opportunities for amateurs to attract this much attention are rare.

So before the hype from this tournament died down, I had to finish assembling the team.

No—beyond that. I intended to use that complete roster to sit at the negotiating table. Amateur leagues fade from memory in just a couple weeks.

At least I can accelerate his role swap.

Compressing a whole year into a short time might be impossible—adapting to a new role takes trial and error.

But trimming down that six months of hesitation? That was doable.

He’ll adapt faster than in the last life.

Back then, Jo-jun had managed a perfect transition in just half a year, alone.

If I added my high-quality feedback on top of that? He could probably save another 2–3 months.

That’s how sharp his game sense was.

Especially when it came to the essentials of ADC—reaction time and combat focus—he was top-class.

Most of all, no ADC syncs with my playstyle better than him.

Convincing him wouldn’t be easy.

Not just joining the team, but also switching roles.

Still…

Let’s do this.

I will make it happen.

Because he, too, was a crucial puzzle piece in my “Dream Team” plan.