If You Want to Become a Pro Gamer
"Nice, nice~"
I stretched out luxuriously and glanced at the monitor. My record on the screen: 9 wins, 0 losses. Just one more win to cap off a perfect 10-0 placement. And if I won this next game, it'd be Platinum 5.
Diamonds from the previous season were hitting Platinum through placements, but I'd started unranked. Pretty impressive, right? Not too shabby for a record.
Of course, I couldn't queue up right away.
"Huh? You heading out?"
"Unlike some old geezer, I've got shutdown restrictions."
"One year older and you're calling yourself old? If you're gonna treat me like an old man, at least call me 'hyung' properly."
"Act like a proper hyung first, then maybe."
"Asshole."
The moment Kim Han-gil saw my placement tier was Gold, he'd begged for a duo queue. No reason to say no, so we ran it together—and won way easier than the first game. Teaming mid and jungle definitely made it smoother to exert influence. No wonder people always say to duo mid-jungle.
Han-gil was pushing himself a bit, but as long as I got ahead early, I could carry. At least in this range, I was confident I was the best. It wasn't just one or two games; I'd never lost a single lane phase across all nine. That kind of streak builds real confidence.
"Anyway, how are you this good? Be real—got a smurf, right?"
"When would I even have time for that? I barely had enough for Go."
"...Yeah, fair."
Baduk came up again, and chatty Han-gil went quiet. I brought it up first—why's he getting all somber?
"Anyway, I'm out. What time tomorrow?"
"Can't tomorrow—got a date."
"Another girlfriend? How long till the breakup this time?"
"This one's the real deal, gonna last..."
The guy was handsome enough that even I could see why girls flocked to him. Whether he chased them or not, who knows.
"Ah."
A sigh came through Skype. Out of nowhere—what's up? Kinda worrying.
"What's wrong?"
"Girlfriend's called like five times. Gotta go grovel."
"Die, you player."
Worry my ass—hope he drops dead. I hung up Skype in a huff, checked my phone, then went to shut down the PC.
That's when my door banged open.
Only one person bursts in like that.
"Hey, Yuna, don't slam the door!"
"Ooh, how'd you know it was me?"
"No one else in this house comes in like a maniac."
Mom just slips in quietly. Dad knocks—knock knock knock—then enters.
"So, why're you here?"
"Wanna go see WCK tomorrow?"
Now that's tempting. Since starting WoL, I'd only watched on my phone. Kinda craving live seats. Phone's fun, but you can't feel the arena heat through a screen.
No favorite team, though. Thought about cheering A1 with Yuna, but top teams feel kinda off-putting.
"Who's playing tomorrow?"
Figured if Yuna suggested it, 100% A1—but just in case.
"A1 vs. Hawks."
Bingo on A1. The other: Hawks. Full name H-AIR Hawks—H-AIR standing for Korean Air. Yeah, the biggest airline in Korea sponsoring them.
Strong team? ...Eh?
That vague answer comes down to the roster. Not S-tier, not B-tier—mid-tier mix of A+ to B- players.
From comp alone, you'd think "weak against S-tier powerhouses, strong against lower teams." Nope—opposite. They beat strong teams but flop against weak ones. (Fans even nicknamed 'em "Righteous Bandits.")
At least until Spring. They smashed Spring champs A1 and powerhouse WM-Empire 2-0, but got 2-0'd by underdogs Unbelievable Miracle and RT Javelin. Weird.
Summer season, they finally acted normal: beat weak teams, lost to strong ones. Classic mid-table powerhouse detector.
Too weak for "strong," too strong for "weak"—that's Hawks.
"So?"
"No one else to go with anyway. Gotta tag along, right?"
"Jerk. Anyway, match at 5, so leave at 4."
"Sure~ Wait, why 4?"
Arena's 1.5-2 hours away tops. Shouldn't 3 be better?
"I'm driving."
Oh yeah—Dad recently upgraded cars, passed his old one to Mom, hers to Yuna.
"...I'll take public transport."
No way I'm trusting my life to that galaxy-brain driver. I'd walk 5-6 hours first.
"Tickets with you?"
Yuna waved her phone—WCK booking screen. So that's the one-way ticket to hell...
Fallen for the trap.
"...You drive okay, right?"
Clinging to a sliver of hope.
Her answer? Pure sunshine.
"Dad approved. Said I drive just like him."
"Oh..."
Dad's a veteran—no wrecks in my memory. If he says so...?
Gotta ask him later.
"4 PM means I can squeeze in a couple ranked games."
Fine, embraced my fate. Plus, one extra game vs. leaving at 3.
Stay positive.
"...Your tier's high, huh? Where at now?"
Did she hear my mutter? Yuna asked about my tier.
PC still on—I pulled up the record site, searched my nick. Blue domination everywhere.
"Here."
Just saying "Gold 1" would've gotten "Liar." Proof's best. Even I wouldn't believe a first placement to Gold 1.
Yuna's eyes widened at the site.
Not that shocking... right?
Checked everywhere—barely any stories of placements this high.
"You..."
She called me. Voice too soft—didn't catch it.
"Yeah?"
"Why didn't you duo with me!!!"
Then her hands were on my collar.
*
Honestly, a little miffed he didn't duo with me. His first placement—as his loving sister, of course I wanted in. (Okay, maybe a bit for the carry too.)
But that's not the point.
The point: Yunho's placement tier is Gold 1. Still in placements, 92 LP—win the last, straight to Platinum. No promos in placements.
From what I know, first placements to Gold were top ladders or pros now.
But Yunho's different. Theirs was Gold—not Platinum.
His? Win next, Platinum placement. Even Classic's was Gold.
If Yunho pushes past Platinum, Diamond, to Master... Commander even...
Pro teams will scout.
And backlash. His finals scores skyrocketed—parents'll hate it. Steady studies mean a normal good life. Pros are "unstable" to their gen, game-hate aside. And it's true—outside elites, it's risky.
Yunho seems meh on pro now, but if he wants it? I'll back my little bro all the way.