Chapter 1: My World Has Collapsed

Life is a series of ups and downs.

I’ve long since confirmed that this isn’t a dream or a flashback, using all sorts of methods, and I had to accept what needed to be accepted.

For now, my memories are gradually mixing, but I don’t particularly feel any resistance.

Because both are ‘me’.

‘…Maybe it’s not so bad?’

My health, which was disastrous during my professional gamer life, seems to have not only recovered but also rejuvenated, and trivial memories are gradually popping up in my head, and it didn’t seem much different from when I was in middle school.

My gender has changed, but there’s nothing more I can do about it, so I’ll move on.

No, actually, maybe it was me, who was already a girl, who recalled the memories of when I was a boy.

Anyway.

That wasn’t the most important thing right now.

‘My limited edition goods…’

My room, which was full of all kinds of game goods, looked a little empty.

Figurines and goods that I had painstakingly collected by nagging pro players and game company staff were missing about three bookshelves worth.

“……Huh?”

But as I recalled the missing items, something was strange.

Most of the things from before I debuted in the Grand League—the Korean LOC 2nd division—remained, and only the things I had collected from my debut to retirement were neatly gone.

I look at my phone screen again.

And I opened the calendar app to check what year it was, not the first screen with the month and day.

One thing was certain, the second to last digit was different.

Right after that.

I hurriedly ran to my desk and turned on the computer.

There were some unknown devices scattered on the desk, but I just needed to make enough space to move the mouse. I quickly entered the password in the security window and frantically clicked the mouse.

I don’t know why, but I had to look it up right now.

As I was frantically searching through the slowly turning on computer desktop.

I finally found it.

“…Haah.”

The tension is released.

Nothing else mattered anymore.

Sunday morning.

The perfect time to play LOC.

Unlike my previous life, where I was addicted to games even in middle school, I, who lived my current life, only played it as a hobby, so my tier wasn’t very high.

That’s why, even though I played with a little less effort, the difference was so great that it was embarrassing to call it smurfing.

But one thing that doesn’t change.

This is it.

Something fundamentally different from the victory of clinging to a dying game, the joy of achieving victory and the growing desire.

The dead LOC has returned to me.

An average of 20 minutes per game.

After winning five games in a row, I felt refreshed.

Well, that’s that.

As it was the past, not the past, I had something to look for in the game I just played.

Quickly rewind the replay to the mid-point of the last game.

‘Is this a bug?’

A projectile that should have definitely hit was somehow deflected.

I wondered if it was a patch version difference, but it was definitely a range that should have hit.

I’ve never seen a situation like this in thousands of practice sessions, and I rewound it several times, but I couldn’t find out anything more.

As I was writing a bug fix email to send to the game company with a generous heart, as I had returned to the past.

—Knock knock.

I heard a familiar voice along with the sound of knocking on the door.

“Our daughter, eat lunch!”

I put down what I was writing and opened the door and came out.

“Why are you hugging me when you don’t usually do it?”

“Why do you think? Because I’m going to watch that league whatever game with you today.”

My father, who looked familiar but much younger, said that as he looked at me hugging my mother.

“…What game?”

“Are you still half asleep? You kept singing about wanting to see that player, Fraud or whatever? You said you liked it because he always wins?”

“Ah.”

No wonder there were strangely many goods even though I played the game as a hobby.

It seemed like I was addicted to LOC in a different way.

It would be nice if these things came to mind a little faster.

I feel like my brain hasn’t quite organized itself yet because of the more than 30 years of memories that have come in.

“Both of you, just eat. You need strength to cheer, do you think the players will like it if you cheer with an ant’s voice?”

Knowing that the indoor stadium was so small that the fans’ cheers were perfectly audible, I just laughed it off.

It was a pleasant enough time just to sit around the table and eat together as a family of three after a long time.

“Dad, is it here?”

“Yes.”

“Here?”

“I said so, didn’t I?”

“No, really, here? The stadium?”

“I put in the navigation correctly, so don’t worry. And you see people around, right? They’re all wearing the same jacket as you, right? Don’t worry, our daughter.”

The stadium, which we arrived at after driving for about thirty minutes from home, was completely different from my memory.

I couldn’t help but express my doubts rather than admiration at the grandeur of the LOC-only stadium built right in the middle of Seoul.

‘There was no such thing?’

It wasn’t that it didn’t exist in the past, I just had never seen such a building in my entire life.

I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the LOC World Cup stadium, no, even that would have to be at least the quarterfinals to be this big, the league or group stage was always a small stadium that couldn’t even fit 500 people.

And even that was rented.

But the first stadium of the first game I saw while I became a middle school girl (female) was like that?

Something was wrong.

A lot.

“Daughter. Don’t get distracted, hold Dad’s hand tightly.”

“…Do you think I’m a child?”

“You’re still young.”

Come to think of it, apart from my father’s standards, I was just young.

In the end, I quietly held his hand and followed him to the entrance.

“……Wow.”

The stadium I entered was so large that I couldn’t help but exclaim.

Where did the small stadium where my voice echoed go, the stadium was so large that even the echo seemed to disappear.

Extra-large screens were attached to all eight sides based on the center, and the huge octagonal stadium was not inferior in size compared to other established sports.

The only difference from other sports stadiums was that there was a huge podium in the place where the field would be located, and 10 large, unidentified egg-shaped chairs.

“Where’s the computer?”

At my embarrassed words, my father looked at me as if he had seen something strange and asked me back.

“When did you ask me to buy you a dedicated device because pros don’t use computers, and now you’re asking about computers?”

“……”

I silently opened the search bar.

Fortunately, the wiki did its job.

‘…Total immersion device?’

The so-called VR, a device that directly interacts with the whole body and brain, so there is no need to move the body, suddenly popped up.

At that moment, I suddenly remembered that there was something similar to headphones among the things scattered on the desk.

‘…I need to see it for myself.’

I sat down as if possessed and waited eagerly for the game to start.

As time passed, people filled up, and with the flashing lights, the caster’s voice began to be heard.

[ST vs. Dawon Gaming! The players are entering now!]

I see familiar faces.

Most of them are those who retired when I was active, but as the gaming scene is always changing, there was no one I hadn’t met at least once.

‘…I just need to put that on my head.’

While watching the players prepare, memories of the device itself came to mind.

The moment the caster called the most familiar and distant name, I looked back at the entrance where the players were entering.

[ST’s mid laner, the legend of ST! Fraud!]

Even if the way the game is played has changed a little, he hasn’t changed.

Cheers that are different from when other players enter.

Cheers of a level that is hard to find even in the memories that have become the past and the future wrapped around Fraud, who was walking confidently.

“……Fraud.”

I have changed, but he still became my goal.

I had no intention of giving up the opportunity given to me again.

I watched every moment of the game without missing a single one.

‘…From third person to first person?’

I wondered why there were so many screens in the stadium, but there was a reason.

When necessary, the players controlled their characters in the third person, just like when playing games with a computer, keyboard, and mouse, and switched to the first person when detailed manipulation was needed.

I suddenly remembered the projectile bug from the game I played in the morning.

“…It wasn’t a bug.”

I haven’t finished writing the bug report yet, I almost became a laughing stock if I wrote it and it was recorded later.

The opponent might have been able to hear that they were so good at the game that they were accused of bugs by a ‘pro who won the LOC World Cup’.

Of course, it didn’t happen, so let’s move on.

“So, was it fun, our Eunseol?”

“…Yes. Very.”

The number of spectators and cheers that could only be seen at the LOC World Cup.

It was a fever that once became a trauma, but I eventually came to enjoy it by the time I ended my professional life, and it was stimulating me again.

It was as if it was asking me if I still wouldn’t come back.

‘This is just in the league.’

It was already decided from the moment I became this body, but it became clearer.

“I wonder if our daughter wants to become a professional gamer.”
“That’s right. I am.”
“…Really? Because of Fraud? Fandom is scary.”

“No, it’s not just because of that person.”

Whether it becomes porridge or rice.

LOC was my life.

“I, I’m going to try to go pro.”

Always.