Why Are You Playing Games With a Girl Like That?
“Why are you gaming with a weirdo like that?”
“She was watching my stream basically from the start. Guess I got attached somehow.”
E Revolution Gaming failed to make the playoffs, just as expected. With the season over, Yoo Seung-eun was on break—basically vacation time.
Thanks to that, I finally got to meet up with him again after so long and demolish some ramen at the noodle joint near my place.
“This place is good.”
“Right? Found it a while back, but haven't come much lately. Thought of it today and dragged you here.”
“Why not lately?”
“Used to hit it up all the time going to PC bangs, but after my voice changed, can't really stream from there anymore.”
Streaming loud and proud from a PC bang would just be embarrassing and cause all sorts of issues.
“So, what's the plan?”
“For what?”
“The team. You switching?”
I'd basically asked with full confidence. No way he'd stick around a total shitshow team like that, right?
But Yoo Seung-eun's answer was unexpected.
“Dunno yet.”
“What? Dude, even saying this against my old team—you'll tank hard if you stay. No offers from first-division teams?”
“At this timing? All the Eld Champs teams have hole-in-the-jungle issues, but none are desperate enough, and I haven't proven I'm competitive enough to squeeze in yet.”
Fair point. Sure, he'd dragged his team out of ninth place with destructive plays, but it was still second division. No one expects that to carry over to first division unchanged.
“Plus, team vibe's kinda off right now. Hard to say.”
“How so?”
“Teammates are acting weird somehow. Can't go into details.”
“You think I'd blab?”
“Nah. You got no friends left anyway.”
“Wanna die?”
True, but I didn't start out with this level of social apocalypse.
“How long you gonna keep hiding it? You cut off everyone else too.”
“My call. Why contact people who ditch you over bad games?”
“You do suck pretty bad, for real.”
“Suicidal?”
He wasn't wrong—I couldn't hide forever. Or hell, at this point, maybe living hidden for life wasn't so bad... but no, I couldn't actually...
Wait, why the hell not?
What's the big deal with hiding who I am forever? As long as it doesn't touch pro gaming?
Not easy, but not impossible.
So why did I still feel like I couldn't hide forever?
“Done eating? Let's go.”
“Huh? Yeah, sure.”
We'd both finished while lost in thought. He covered the bill. I was unemployed now.
“Aren't you making bank from streams?”
“Donations trickle in, but not as much as the viewer count suggests.”
“But you're not broke.”
“Compared to pro gamer pay? And where we headed now?”
“PC bang.”
“...Seriously? We meet up and it's straight to PC bang?”
“You got one computer at home. What else we gonna do? Hit an amusement park?”
“I'd just play LoE if I had time for that.”
“Then shut up and follow.”
I dragged him to our usual haunt. Hadn't been much lately, like I said.
“Oh, hi! Long time no... ”
The part-timer who always greeted me froze mid-sentence, face twisting weirdly.
“Uh, yeah. Hi.”
Felt off, but I shrugged it off and headed in. Yoo Seung-eun caught up.
“Know her?”
“Nah, just staff. Why?”
“No reason.”
We grabbed seats and fired up LoE like it was obvious. He side-eyed me.
“Dude, what?”
“What else we gonna do? Play LoE.”
“With me?”
“Problem?”
“Your stream thinks you're my fanboy.”
“And?”
“What if they find out you're duoing with me?”
“...Sub account. Out.”
“Mine's Grandmaster too.”
“They don't know it's you. We're just doing solo or norms anyway. Get in.”
He grumbled but logged in.
“Add me. ID's BestYoonSungye.”
“Who's Yoon Sung-ye?”
“Culture otaku shit, singer. Singer.”
That Doremi high schooler called me that too last time.
“Culture otaku?”
“Cultural nerd.”
“Fuck, shouldn't have spared that kid.”
Deep regrets aside, he accepted the friend request.
“Says something weird. Not solo, not norms—what then? Arena?”
“1v1 me.”
“1v1? Outta nowhere?”
“Got something to test.”
I'd called him just to hang since season ended. Wasn't planning this, but timing was perfect.
A few days back, after my rank spiked, I ran solo reaction tests off-stream.
Results were baffling.
150ms 210ms 93ms 73ms 145ms 228ms
Not the old god-tier vs. slug extremes, but still huge variance—though narrower than before.
Was I recovering?
Practice mode confirmed the broken rhythm. But sometimes, weird plays slipped out unconsciously.
Like momentum in the flow. Not just emotion control issues. More aggressive than rational choices.
Instinctive, illogical plays that felt viable despite zero logic.
And they sometimes worked—pure luck, though. Would've bombed otherwise. Yet I kept sensing that potential.
Needed a solid punching bag to test.
“So use me?”
“Yeah.”
He gave a weird look but accepted.
1v1 began.
“...Dude, how long we doing this?”
“What? Only three hours.”
“Three hours ago.”
“Says the guy who grinds six-hour sessions.”
“Ranked. This is 1v1. Know how many games?”
“Who counts?”
Results sucked. Even with my nerfed physicals, getting pushed by a non-laner untouchable peasant jungler? No way.
“Untouchable peasant.”
“Anyway.”
He teased at first, then went quiet. Pathetic if he tired already, but my record was trash.
Maybe seven wins. Sub-50% winrate. No sign of that feeling either.
“Counterpicks count as wins?”
“Strategy's skill.”
Not my intent, but whatever.
“Bored? Rank duo?”
“...Said no.”
“You bored, asshole. Account's dormant Diamond anyway.”
“Bus me?”
“I bus you.”
“Bullshit. Dinner time anyway.”
“One game then eat and call it.”
“Call.”
Three-hour 1v1 over, duo ranked naturally followed.
“Stream asks who I duoed with?”
“Say balls-friend.”
“Psycho.”
Can't avoid gaming with friends over that. Chat might explode, but one game won't prove duo.
He picked steady jungler Barbarian Warrior. I took Samurai.
“Samurai?”
“Why.”
“You never touch it.”
True. Samurai's a warrior champ—heavy hand-dependent physical monster, high skill like most Japanese-style ones.
Even pre-this-body, too extreme wire-walker for my taste. Tournament pick maybe, but solo-queue vibe.
“Just practicing.”
Wasn't planning it. Enemy mid picked Samurai-counter Shrine Maiden; Samurai jumped out at me.
He eyed suspiciously, but I brushed off.
Winning's fun, but not all gaming's about wins.
“Carry us.”
“Dumbass.”
Predictably, I crumbled fast. Shrine Maiden's low floor was abysmal—not sky-high peak mage, but brutal lows. Samurai pierced highs but cratered lows.
020
Only two deaths, but laning gap was huge already.
Yet we were winning.
“Yeah, ward there? Fake right. No—enemy support vanished. Back soon. They used wards. Fakeout.”
“Got it, circling. Poke mid? Blinked earlier. Bait it out.”
Obvious. My orders alive, pro jungler. Master duo losing? Absurd.
Me stopping that? Minor.
Still, laning ass-whooping had me sighing. He stared oddly.
“Push bot. Frost Lord bait top.”
“Three top. Shrine Maiden bot, Hunter unknown—probably on me.”
Mechanically relayed info. Me stalling Maiden/Hunter lets team burst Lord or collapse main force. Or force their TP. Win-win.
They'd eaten three dragons (gave one for vision, stole one). Could target me post-fourth, flee. But Frost Lord now means 5v4 teamfight to endgame. Fine.
I just don't die; they target, I bail.
Four sans me burst Frost Lord. Their choice... me.
Two—no, three dove.
Overkill for busted Samurai, but better than free Lord.
But if I bail clean, wasted. Their eager reveal gave escape angle.
I planned safe retreat—then that sensation hit.
“Bail straight. Game's o... what're you doing?”
Ignored him.
Three divers: Monk jungler, Shrine Maiden, Hunter ADC.
Hunter poke build. Maiden mid-DPS weak. All non-target heavy. Hunter burnt dash to join.
I dashed in blind.
Luck? Maiden ate it; Hunter whiffed poke. Full combo airborne Maiden. Samurai at this stage? Damage flows.
Maiden sliver HP, Monk ult-kicks me away.
Half HP fleeing, Maiden skill flies, Hunter shoots, Monk dives. Scene slo-mo'd weirdly. Flash forward dodges Monk, skirts Maiden skill, finishes her, slams Hunter.
Hunter flashes away realizing no angle—but my dash cooled. Airborne Hunter. Dash incoming soon, but pre-move, my final blade plunged heart-deep.
DOUBLE KILL!
Monk left. I recovered some via lifesteal, triumph, kill-passive. He'd full HP—survive easy, right?
TRIPLE KILL!
Easy.
Snapped back: three enemy corpses under me. Teammate ? pings flooded. Enemies emoted panic.
Monk's chat said it: game over. Marched Nexus, victory screen.
I slumped in the chair, drained.
“...Ah.”
He stared weirdly.
No words—just a stifled whimper. No clue what that sensation was, but one thing clear.
Feels fucking good.