APGD 34

Chapter 34

“99th Year Since Debut
Pro Gamer”

The marathon of ranked games with Jung Jo-jun finally ended well past midnight.

When I glanced at the digital clock, it was already well past 2 a.m.

I hadn’t counted each match one by one, but rough estimate? At least eight games, maybe more.

I staggered out of my chair and stumbled toward the bed.

Then I dove headfirst onto the mattress, stretching out as wide as I could.

“Uuugh!”

Maybe it was the alcohol on top of it all, but the fatigue pressing down on me tonight felt especially heavy.

‘Finally, the day is over.’

As soon as I shut my eyes, today’s events flashed past like a panorama.

And suddenly, I realized—so much had happened in just one day.

I’d visited the Bears’ headquarters, met Coach Choi Yeon-sik and Assistant Coach Ra Yeon-mok, jumped straight into team practice, and then even convinced Park Yong-won, Kang Ha-neul, and Jung Jo-jun one after another.

The more I thought about it, the more a wave of pride surged through me.

‘I really spent today well.’

Just one left.

Only one last puzzle piece, and then the “dream team” I’d envisioned would be complete.

But the problem was…

‘…Is there no decent support out there?’

Even with every memory of my past life intact, this position was like a fog—I couldn’t think of anyone suitable.

Talented supports?

Honestly, all the S-tier players had long ago been swept away to the Chinese league with massive contracts.

Then the next best option—A-tier supports.

A few candidates flickered through my mind.

But could their potential truly reach the “Golden Road”?

Hmm. Hard to say.

And the top supports still in Korea? Every single one of them had some fatal flaw.

‘Like Na Kang-han—each of them has a screw loose somewhere in their personality.’

No matter how clear the water, a single loach could muddy the whole river.

It didn’t matter how skilled or gifted they were—if they were the type to stir up muck, I wanted nothing to do with them.

One toxic player could crush team morale in an instant.

‘For now, better to just watch and wait.’

Of course I was itching to complete the dream team as fast as possible.

But rushing things and regretting it later would be far worse.

When it came to roster choices, caution upon caution was the only way.

“Yaaawn—”

My eyes slid shut, more from exhaustion forcing them closed than by will.

First, a nap.

I’d worry about the rest later.

With that thought, I drifted into deep sleep.

Two days later.

I headed to a café near Insadong to meet the dream team members.

Ding-a-ling!

A clear, old-fashioned bell rang when I opened the door.

These days, most places had digital door chimes, but this was charmingly nostalgic.

The interior matched—classic and old-fashioned.

I walked deeper inside.

From afar, I spotted him: Jung Jo-jun, glued to his smartphone.

When I reached his table, I smiled faintly.

“You’re early.”

His head turned slowly, gaze rising up my legs, then my torso—

And finally—

“──!?”

He shot to his feet, eyes wide with shock.

He blinked furiously, as if trying to convince himself what he saw was real.

“…Eh? Chotto matte! (Wait a sec!) Eeeh?!”

Even just his dumbfounded expression told me exactly what he was thinking:

Why the hell are YOU here?

Well, it made sense.

Until now, Jo-jun had no idea I was “TacticMaker.”

So of course he’d react like this.

“So you’re Penta—no, TacticMaker… Penta… ehhh!?”

Pointing at me like a broken robot, his finger trembled with shock.

I chuckled.

“Been waiting long?”

“What is this… some kind of hidden camera prank? Is this for real?”

“Prank?”

“But your voice—it’s definitely Penta’s…”

“Yeah. That’s me.”

He clutched at his hair with both hands.

“No way! You’re actually Penta? You—you’re TacticMaker?!”

“Right. I’m both.”

His face flushed red as blood rushed up. He was probably recalling all the things he’d said while duoing with me.

“Damn it! You should’ve told me earlier! I was shadowboxing by myself like an idiot!”

“I missed the right timing. Besides, you were gonna find out today anyway.”

Jo-jun laughed awkwardly, shaking his head, and plopped back into his seat.

“No wonder! Yeah! I mean, it never made sense! There’s no way two god-tier prodigies just pop out of nowhere at the same time!”

“Hm?”

“Never mind, just talking to myself! Anyway, Penta—no, TacticMaker? What do I even call you? Your real name was Do-su Lee, right?”

I sat down across from him.

“Call me whatever’s comfortable.”

“Now that we’ve met in person, I should use your name. Do you happen to know mine outside of my streamer handle?”

“Jung Jo-jun.”

“Oh, wow! I’m touched! You even know my real name?”

“Of course. We’re about to be teammates. Naturally, I’d know.”

“Hahaha! True! Nice to meet you properly, Do-su!”

He reached out for a handshake, and I took it.

“Then I’ll call you Jo-jun hyung.”

“Yeah! Please do. But seriously—wow! You’re insane, you know that?”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you were just a Ryoso one-trick who’d been grinding for years. But if you play Chad that well too… how many games have you even played?”

How many?

Even I’d lost count of my pro career matches alone.

If you just count games, easily over ten thousand.

But I couldn’t exactly say that.

“Not sure. Never counted. A lot, I guess. But probably less than Ryoso.”

“That makes sense. Still, doesn’t matter the champ—you master all of them. Every single one at some absurdly high level. Honestly? It’s unfair.”

“…What’s with that sudden insult?”

“It’s a compliment! A compliment!”

“Right, well… thanks, I guess.”

At that moment—

“Do-su-ham! Hi!”

“Oh, you guys are here already? We thought we were early.”

Kang Ha-neul and Park Yong-won waved cheerfully as they approached.

Ha-neul spotted Jo-jun and lit up.

“Whoa! Amazing!! It’s really you, Index-finger-kal! I’ve only ever seen you on Mutube! Right, Yong-won-ham?!”

“Yeah, yeah, calm down, man.”

Yong-won cleared his throat and extended his hand politely.

“Hello. I’m Park Yong-won. Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure! I’m Jung Jo-jun, streamer name Index-finger-kal.”

He jumped up reflexively to shake hands.

Then Ha-neul grabbed his hand too.

“I’m Kang Ha-neul! I heard you’re 22? Can I call you ‘ham’ too, like Do-su-ham and Yong-won-ham?”

The air was still a little awkward, but the mood wasn’t bad at all.

Watching them, I couldn’t help but smile.

‘This feels surreal.’

Even if the team wasn’t complete yet—

The members of the dream team I’d envisioned were here, sitting together.

Just seeing this scene already made my chest tighten with emotion.

‘Maybe this life… it might really be possible.’

I’d been stuck in the cycle of hell, repeating life after life.

But now, I desperately wanted to escape it for good.

And with these members…

It wasn’t impossible.

The hope of reaching the Golden Road was real.

“How about we get some practice in, now that we’re all gathered?”

More than any chapter before—

Three days later.

It had already been three days since our first dream team meeting.

During those days, I played countless scrims preparing for the President’s Cup amateur tournament finals.

All I did for days was grind Ball nonstop.

Yaaawn—

Stretching, I flung my window wide open.

A rush of icy winter air stabbed at my nose.

Each breath came out in a thick white cloud.

Cold, yeah—but it cleared my head.

‘Not a bad flow.’

Our scrim win rate was over 90%.

And in just three days, multiple pro teams had already sent me fresh offers.

Among them—two of the so-called top three first-division teams: “Yusang Esports” and “Trade Up Gaming.”

Admittedly, their conditions weren’t quite as good as the Bears’ initial offer.

But the significance was huge.

Being scouted by powerhouse teams was like receiving a “premium quality guarantee” sticker.

And getting offers from all of the top three?

That was proof my value sat at the top of the pyramid.

‘This certification will be a powerful weapon in future negotiations.’

There were two main ways to form my dream team:

One, join a pro team first and then recruit my members.

Two, assemble the dream team in advance and then enter together.

I’d chosen the latter—it seemed the more reliable path.

But I couldn’t afford to waste too much time, not when I still lacked a solid support candidate.

‘I need to decide before this spotlight on me fades.’

In amateur tournaments, hype dies out within a week or two after the schedule ends.

So while I didn’t need to rush blindly, I also couldn’t dawdle.

If I waited too long, roster slots would fill, and we’d lose the chance for a joint signing.

‘Maybe leaving support unfilled and just securing the best team first is the smarter play.’

Over the past few days, I’d asked Jo-jun and Yong-won for help, too.

They suggested some candidates, even arranged offline meetings with a couple.

But even with their networks exhausted, I still hadn’t found anyone satisfactory.

‘Hmmm…’

I was still deep in thought when—

Bzzzzt!

My phone buzzed loudly on the desk.

I snatched it up.

Caller ID: Ra Yeon-mok.

Click.

“Hello?”

—“Heheheh~! Ah, Do-su! How have you been? Sleeping well? Eating properly?”

In his usual sing-song tone, his greetings fired off like bullets.

“Uh, yes… Coach, how about you?”

—“So, I was studying comps centered on champions buffed this patch, and I came up with this great strat we could use in real games! I’m dying to hear what you think! Want me to send you the video?”

As expected of Ra Yeon-mok.

After days of silence, he pops up showing his full strategy-nerd colors.

But wait—

I wasn’t even on Bears’ roster yet. Was it okay for him to hand me sensitive material?

—“Ah, no! That’s not why I called. Sorry, got carried away!”

“It’s fine.”

Thankfully, that wasn’t the real reason for his call.

—“Actually, our team COO—well, Executive Director—has been showing huge interest in you these past few days! We can promise you an even better deal than before.”

“!?”

Better than the last offer?

That one was already megaton-level—historic, even.

—“Oh, and you know Stove League’s wrapping up soon, right? Most teams’ rosters are finalized now.”

“Yes. I’ve been keeping up with the news.”

—“Long story short, we’d like to propose a negotiation meeting! Our team can’t afford to wait much longer. Could you meet tomorrow at 11 a.m.? We’ll go over everything in detail then!”

Tomorrow… I had a scrim with the Jeju regional team around 12:30.

A bit tight, sure.

But priorities were clear.

I had to go—even if it meant delaying scrims.

“Yes, that works for me.”

—“Excellent! I’ll meet you at the lobby tomorrow! I’m excited to hear your take on the current meta too!”

“Haha, sure. See you tomorrow at 11, at Bears HQ.”

Click.

I leaned on the window frame, staring out at the dark row of villas.

A thought struck me—I might not see this view again for a long while.

‘Looks like there’s a chance to pull this off.’

Tomorrow’s negotiation wouldn’t follow the usual script.

The conditions I planned to present were… extraordinary.

‘I wonder.’

How would that COO react when faced with this pile of bombs?