Let's Stream Together (3)

Dainax, the LoL pro team that once vied for the top spot in the LCK. Of course, they could never quite claim first place against the absolute powerhouse Neon, but they still snatched victories now and then, earning plenty of glory and fame.

Hong Su-bin had been Dainax's ADC, once dubbed an "android" for his near-AI levels of flawless play.

"You should've used it a bit higher up. Check the jungler's position. Next time, we pressure—push the lane and dive in."

And now, he was a regular guest on Tseung's streams. Hong Su-bin watched Tseung and broadcaster Stella's screens simultaneously as a support, barking orders.

"Enemy support's moving low— isolate their ADC and dive. We spotted their jungler top side, and ours is close by, right? Go now."

The reason this once-popular pro had retired boiled down to one thing: his physicals couldn't keep up with the brainiacs calling him an android. He was fine in his teens thanks to youth, but at 22, his aging curve hit earlier than most, forcing him out.

'Not a tough matchup. Why can't Tseung climb? He plays great when I coach him.'

CherryPicker and HaneulGongdu. No one here seemed particularly threatening to him. HaneulGongdu's movements were decent for Bronze, but that was it—no game-changing skill.

"R-Really dive in?"

Unlike Tseung, already prepped to engage, the navy-blue bob-haired female streamer Stella asked Hong Su-bin.

"Yes, obviously. I explained it, didn't I? I'll even tell you the exact skill timings."

Tseung followed Hong Su-bin's calls without hesitation after so many collabs, but new guests often showed doubt like this. Prideful by nature, Hong Su-bin massaged his temples and replied as politely as he could.

But Stella had her reasons.

'Ugh, something feels off...!'

She had sharp instincts. A typical Bronze player—nothing special in game sense or mechanics. Yet she occasionally flashed eerily spot-on intuition. That's why she hesitated. Something felt weird about this HaneulGongdu player.

And that hesitation created an opening.

"Whoa, they're diving first. Stay calm. Osya's reflection has a cooldown on failure, right? Don't dump all your skills at once—if they reflect by luck, you're screwed. Start with multi-hit skills, mix timings. Rudeheim first."

"Got it."

Stella shook off her doubts and prepped her skills per Hong Su-bin's instructions.

'Screw it, just follow orders!'

"Now."

Rudeheim and Hiraen's skills flew irregularly toward Osya.

Osya. A champion with a skill that reflects enemy abilities. Sounds broken at first, but the timing window is razor-thin. Success has no cooldown, but failure triggers a long one. Reflecting even two waves of mixed timings is tough—multi-hits require success per tick.

Before, enemies had fired simultaneously, letting her reflect everything at once.

"What the—why are they diving—niii—"

But one thing Hong Su-bin and Tseung couldn't predict. Only Stella's instincts ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had sensed the unease.

Nam Ha-neul's Focus hit its peak with the status window's aid, time itself seeming to slow.

Game-Physical +20, pushing her to Platinum level. Proportionally speaking—her status window made her even stronger. And Focus wasn't just stats; it induced hyper-immersion, skills crawling in slow motion.

'I can do this...!'

Thwakaka-thwang!

Rudeheim's skill: rotating spiked ring dealing 5 hits instantly. Ha-neul's Osya reflected every tick perfectly, then Hiraen's arrow, Tseung's arrow barrage—

Osya dove deeper, perfect skill rotation skipping auto-attack animations to snag Tseung first.

With that, Cherry caught on and charged Rudeheim. Stripped of regular skills, Rudeheim flashed away—but Ha-neul's Osya, with flash cooldown up, pursued.

"Whoa, insane! What was that, sis? Sub-account? But level's too high for that...? Smurf...?"

"N-No... umm..."

Ha-neul smirked at her godlike reflexes. Cherry gawked, practically yelling.

"Seriously, what? Why so good?"

"W-Well..."

Ha-neul pondered, then grinned mischievously—she'd fantasized this line before.

"H-Hiding... my power... hehe..."

"Uh...? Kinda cool..."

'Hehe, total hidden master vibe?'

Cherry's reaction was lukewarm, but Ha-neul was lost in her own hype. Hidden expert lurking in Bronze? Concealed genius? She basked in self-congratulation.

The enemy jungler ganked, killing them both.

"Ah."

"Sis, I said ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I was coming."

"S-Sorry..."

"Praise you once and you ignore me? Huh?"

"S-Sorry... f-forgive me..."

She'd done great, yet got scolded again, puffing her cheeks. No courage to say it aloud, though.

She glanced at Cherry's stream chat on her phone.

Viewers generally pegged Ha-neul as: brain ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠awful, but mechanics decent. Especially Cherry's true Bronze fans compared her directly.

"Eek..."

"Huh? What, sis?"

Her prior superplay coincided with that dodge day, so viewers teased her "sudden poop" excuse. She grumbled indignantly, but clammed up at Cherry's reaction, sulking silently.

"Not... that..."

"What?"

"Not... gotta poop..."

"Pfft!"

Unchanging reactions made Ha-neul purse her lips and return to lane silently. Enemy bot duo had respawned first.

But boosted confidence had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her charging—sans Focus. Cherry hesitated but trusted the prior showing and followed.

Momentum? In LoL, it hits. After a solo kill, you don't cower. Winnable fights slip if you're scared.

Tseung and Stella, walloped before, couldn't handle Ha-neul's Osya—even with Hong Su-bin. Actually, post-first double, he'd stopped calling shots.

Tseung and Stella amped up for stream post-loss screen.

"Whoa~ opponent was legit good, admit it? Reflecting all of Rudeheim's ring with Osya? Real Bronze?"

"Not Bronze level..."

Even they felt Ha-neul transcended Bronze. Mechanics left a mark despite sloppy macro/movement.

"Opp streaming too? Where~ Oh, Cherry?"

"Uh..., the ADC?"

"Toilet Gongdu...? Anyway, ADC's not a streamer?"

"But duo streaming? Wild."

Behind their lively stream, Hong Su-bin pondered. Some high-rank viewers agreed: midgame macro fuzzy, fights positioning awkward, muting her power.

But something nagged. That first double kill moment.

'...Why'd it feel familiar?'

Like facing his sister, Hong Su-yeon.

'Illusion. She's not that good.'

Still, HaneulGongdu bugged him. He envied and resented his sister—Neon's mid, first woman to win Worlds, brains matching his but with god-tier physicals earning global praise.

He'd skipped coaching post-retirement because of her. After crushing defeats as rivals, he wanted no pro-scene ties.

So a fleeting similarity needled him.

"Uh... Coach Su-bin? Next game?"

"Ah, yeah. Let's go. Sorry."

He shook it off at Tseung's prompt, blaming sister-sensitivity.

"Fun."

A woman with black hair tinged red lounged on her sofa, phone in hand. Hong Su-yeon occasionally checked streams with her brother.

"Like me?"

HaneulGongdu. Osya's midgame moves felt subtly sped-up, like her signature: hyper-focus slowing the world. Innate talent crowning her queen.

Ha-neul's status-gained skill mirrored her natural gift. Only she spotted the parallel.

"Hmm, no stream?"

"Huh...?"

What’s this? The status window popped up before Ha-neul, who was getting thoroughly scolded by Cherry after charging boldly and dying in the next game.