Chapter 20: Always There

As I was about to open the door and step outside, the coach stopped me.

“Do, do you know the layout of the building?”
“Of course. I could walk around with my eyes closed…”

Ah.

I shouldn’t have known already.

I hadn’t even had a tour of the building, let alone been told where anything was, and everyone was puzzled by the sight of me excitedly rushing out.

“Oh, that’s. I’ve watched a lot of ST’s YouTube videos.”
“You saw the building tour video! We worked so hard to separate the public and non-public parts during editing, and to have someone recognize that…!”

Fortunately, the filming crew members seemed to be moved that I recognized their efforts, so I was able to get away with it.

Anyway, the practice room we arrived at was surprisingly not very crowded.

For reference, ST’s 1st division team has a separate practice room, and this is where academy players to Grand League players mix and only play solo queue.

“I guess everyone went to lunch.”
“It’s past five o’clock, and you still call it lunch?”
“Well, if it’s the first meal of the day, it’s breakfast, and if it’s the second, it’s lunch.”

I know because I’ve done it.

Schedules that cause cognitive dissonance, such as morning scrims (1:00 PM), are commonplace among professional gamers.

Besides, Fraud couldn’t have come if he had scrims, so I knew it was lunchtime from the beginning.

Coach Ahn Jaehoon was able to come early because he was in charge of managing the entire ST, from the 1st division team to the 3rd division team.

“Still, it’s not completely empty.”
“ST2 and ST3 are in free time, playing solo queue.”

It’s true that not all teams had the same schedule.

Well, thanks to that, I found one more welcome face.

As soon as I entered the practice room, I naturally walked towards the guy in front of me.

‘…How did I wake up someone wearing a VR device?’

Should I turn off the power?

It would look strange if I took too much time here, so I was about to give up and just sit next to Fraud and play, but fortunately, he took off the device himself not long after.

“Why are these guys there…sigh…”

The current top Challenger and, as far as I know, the current ST3 top laner.

Fluke was sighing deeply.

“You’re becoming a great top laner.”
“What?”

Of course.

Top laners always go in whether they’re winning or losing, and if the result is good, it’s their own merit, and if it’s bad, it’s the team’s fault.

It’s not for nothing that they’re called thugs.

“Wait. Why are you here? No, rather, why is everyone here…?”

Well, if a 3rd division player got angry while playing solo queue, turned it off, and got up, and saw a filming crew, the coach, and even the team’s legend, Fraud, and a school friend, I’d be startled too.

“Because. I’m the ST3 mid laner?”
“……?”

Is that what the embodiment of a question mark ping looks like?

Yeah, yeah.

I understand.

It must have been like yesterday when we were playing flex queue together, so it would be awkward to meet at work.

“Coach, really?”
“Yeah. Dongwoon is leaving this time, and this friend is coming in.”
“But are you going to start practicing right away without even introducing the team members?”
“No, I came to play one-on-one with Fraud.”
“What?”
“Good. You be the observer.”
“……”

Of course, there was no way he could object.

Thugs and butchers need to have their egos crushed from the beginning to make them listen.

With the now familiar feeling of floating, I stood in front of Fraud.

There were two large desks and computers in front of us, but there was no problem with communication.

“Do you have a champion you want to play?”
“You have to give me the counterpick.”
“Where did all that earlier spirit go?”
“Please be considerate of your junior.”

With trivial conversation, and since we had no intention of picking based on the opponent’s champion anyway, we picked champions almost as soon as the ban-pick window popped up.

“…Excuse me, Mr. Fraud?”
“Yes?”
“Do you have no conscience?”

I wonder if it’s right to bring out a champion based on the legend of the nine-tailed fox, and his representative signature pick, to a trainee who hasn’t even debuted in the 3rd division league.

The justice of the Rift has collapsed.

“Still, it’s a one-on-one lane without a hunter, so it’s advantageous for True.”

For reference, the champion I picked was Orianna.

One of the representative strong lane champions who uses a single mechanical sphere for attack, shield, and even movement speed.

Simply looking at the lane matchup, I’m advantageous in all sections.

The problem is, no matter how much the hunter—they used to call it jungle or something—doesn’t come out of the Twisted Treeline, I don’t know what this guy will do in a one-on-one situation.

Especially since it’s not just using a keyboard and mouse, but there’s a big variable called first-person perspective.

Of course, regardless of my complaints, time passed, and we were already in the Rift.

[It’s exactly 10 minutes, and it ends when you get a kill or reach 90 CS.]

Jihwan, who took on the role of spectator observer, reminded us of the rules again.

As we waited for the minions while emoting in the mid lane, we soon started the laning phase.

And I died.

“Ah.”

How could this kill me?

Early laning phase.

From level 1 to level 4, there was no difference between the two.

“…I guess he’s going easy on True since she’s a rookie in the early game.”

The staff members who were watching the game on the screen asked Coach Ahn Jaehoon, the person who knew the most about the game among those who could talk, but a completely different answer from their expectations came out of his mouth.

“He seems to be playing seriously…?”
“Really?”

Against that Fraud, and against Fraud’s signature pick.

No matter how much there is a champion matchup, it was the highest level of performance a rookie could show.

“Dodging skills. Oh. True is dodging most of them too.”

It was as if they were copying each other’s movements.

“It seems like True has studied Fraud a lot.”

It seems that what she said during the interview about knowing all of Fraud’s games was no lie.

While I was thinking that, something unexpected happened.

Near the end of the 10 minutes, Fraud made a gamble.

Both health bars were below half.

The moment they thought the exchange of deals was over.

With a momentary switch to first-person perspective, he perfectly dodged Orianna’s ball with movement, landed all his skills, and skillfully squeezed in auto-attacks in between.

Of course, True also tried to avoid the skills as much as possible, but it was a fight that was already lost in the mind game, and the difference in proficiency in first-person mode was unfortunately impossible to hide.

The tense flow was broken by that single kill log.

The game ended in an instant.

“Well, I was worried about what to do if there was nothing to teach. I’ll be worth my salary.”

Of course, the period of being worth that salary wouldn’t be very long, but anyway.

The fact that this girl dragged out the time with Fraud like this.

No, perhaps the fact that Fraud moved one step ahead because there was a kill angle for both of them made him infinitely happy.

‘This is why I can’t quit this.’

Ahn Jaehoon approached True, who had taken off the VR device, with a good-natured smile.

I thought about playing another game, but soon decided not to.

Basically, I lack understanding of the game system, that is, the first-person part.

As expected, Coach Ahn Jaehoon came up to me and asked something similar to what I thought.

“How was it? Do you see any areas where you’re still lacking?”
“I missed a few things.”

I guess it’s a bit difficult to just skim the surface.

Even FiloDog, whom I met when I was promoted to Challenger, had parts where he overpowered me with the gold difference, apart from the movement.

It seemed that there were parts to learn by examining the details of the pros’ movements.

Of course, aside from all those things, there was only one thing I misjudged the most.

“That guy is too healthy.”
“……?”

No matter how much I learned from Fraud, it was Fraud after retirement.

I overlooked the fact that he was still active, and thanks to the VR device, he had a lively wrist in his prime, at least when playing games.

“Still, you did well. I was pretty serious.”

Fraud, who got up from his seat next to me, said so.

“If I ask for another game, you won’t play, right?”
“Haha. I have to eat too.”
“Then when are you free?”

As I approached him intentionally, Fraud maintained a certain distance and added.

“Hmm. If you win the Master League, I’ll play with you again.”

He said that and left alone as he had come.

He didn’t say it, but seeing him smile so wickedly, I could see what was on his mind.

“…Ugh.”

For better or for worse.

The legend was always there, waiting for me.