Pudge?
“Pudge?”
Thinking about it, it wasn't all that strange. The gap between Arang and me was clear as day.
Our tiers were similar. Overall skill-wise, we weren't that far apart either. But our stat distributions were worlds apart.
Arang had gone all-in on physical stats to the extreme, while I was the total opposite. Sure, my physicals had improved in various ways lately, but they were still way too unstable.
Of course, in the pro scene, operations were invaluable—my ops, or as the kids call it, brainjock, were still top-tier even now, less than half a year after leaving the pros.
But physicals were the foundation. The basic stamina.
Without that foundation, no amount of skill gets accepted easily.
Especially since ops don't jump out at you like physicals do.
It wasn't strange at all.
“Pudge?”
Even if I got a pro offer, it wouldn't mean I'd go back. And even if I did with this level of skill, I still couldn't beat Proud.
Beating Proud wasn't everything in pro play. Proud wasn't everything in LoE.
Maybe not for me, at least.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Huh? Yeah. Oh, sorry. Got lost in thought for a sec.”
Arang had been calling out to me with worry in her voice, but I'd been too deep in my head to notice. Gotta snap out of it.
“Congrats.”
Anyway, I managed to say it calmly—or at least pretended to—offering her my congratulations.
Unlike me, who'd gotten older and turned into yesterday's news, Arang was still young. No guarantees, but if she buckled down and learned how to focus properly, climbing higher wasn't impossible.
I couldn't help feeling a twinge of jealousy, but it was Arang, so I had to congratulate her.
I'll shove my petty jealousy aside for now.
“But, um... you know.”
“What?”
“I dunno. Can I really go pro? Should I?”
That kind of worry, huh. I couldn't help chuckling. Unlike me, who'd charged headlong into going pro from the start, Arang hadn't planned for this. So of course she'd hesitate.
“If it's bugging you, tell me more.”
“...I dunno. I watch pro matches a lot, love 'em, but I can't picture myself playing there. And I'm kinda dumb, so if you don't explain stuff, I still don't get it.”
Even the headbutting dinosaur who'd seemed so thoughtless had her own hang-ups about her style. But in my eyes, Arang wasn't dumb. Her thoughts were just hyper-focused in one direction.
“Talked to your parents yet?”
“Not yet. Wanted to run it by you first.”
“Why?”
“You're the best at LoE out of anyone I know, and you never blow off what I say.”
...Hah, this kid. She's got a knack for reeling in hearts and letting 'em go.
My mood soured a bit. It felt good, but also stupid—like, of course it's nice, why get all happy over something obvious?
“What do you want to do? Pro life's brutal. If you go for it, half your day every day is just gaming. Sounds fun at first, but doing it nonstop gets rough. You're not solo queuing anymore, so group living's a must, and since you're a girl, it'll be even tougher. Most teams dorm together, but they can't exactly bunk you with the guys. Does that coach know you're a girl yet?”
“Haven't told him...”
“Then that's another issue. Hate to say it, but if you reveal you're a girl, they might pull the offer. They could think your potential or staying power's lower compared to guys.”
Unfortunately, that was reality. Back in the day, two female amateurs who'd hit Challenger got offers from second-division teams, but it didn't end well.
They never even played an official match—maybe got out-scrapped internally—and second-division being what it is, they faded fast. Wonder if they're still streaming now.
Arang might end up on a similar path. But I didn't want to scare her off by bringing it up.
Unlike those support girls up top, Arang was a top laner with a wildly different style. She had potential.
But that wasn't why I wasn't trying to stop her.
“Honestly, it'll be insanely tough. Clashing with teammates, living with them anyway. Practicing champs you hate, fans flaming you if results suck. Pay's peanuts, and no guarantee you'll even compete.”
“Eek.”
“It's a hard, painful road. Don't take it lightly.”
It really was grueling. Never had another job, so I can't compare, but it sure wasn't easy or comfy enough to dismiss.
But,
“Still, if you want to go pro, I say do it.”
That made it worthwhile. My own end sucked, but I didn't regret going pro.
And maybe, just maybe, Arang could prove my choice wasn't wrong. A selfish wish, idiotic vicarious thrill.
But in the end, the choice was hers.
“You wanna do it?”
“...Kinda.”
“Then do it.”
For yourself.
By yourself, not anyone else.
“But I'm not confident about group living. School... I hate it so much I don't go.”
“Way better than school. Can't guarantee it, but hey, perfect timing. Pros usually drop school anyway. No one's gonna nag you about skipping now, right?”
“That sounds great.”
“How old are you? Official matches start after 17.”
“High school first year. Birthday's still a ways off.”
“When?”
“November 11th.”
A bit far, but no big deal. The team offering wouldn't throw her into comps right away anyway.
First-division would take her as a trainee to develop; second-division without dorms would keep her as sub.
Not many teams were as desperate as E Revolution Gaming, scraping for players from scratch.
“You talk like you've been a pro gamer or something, Pudge.”
Ugh, did I pour too much emotion into it? Arang's instincts were sharp. Can't reveal I'm Dice here, so play it off.
“Just really into the pro scene.”
“You barely watch matches.”
...Not a total idiot, huh.
“Anyway. Any other worries?”
“Dunno if Mom'll let me.”
“Can't help with that.”
Sorry, no mom here.
Didn't say it out loud—might kill the vibe. Just thought it.
“Impressive though. Just hit Grandmaster again, and bam, pro offer.”
“Oh, about that. Turns out the coach knew me from before.”
“Huh? How?”
“Said he'd been watching since my first Grandmaster stint. I dropped to Master and was stressing.”
“So you reclimbed, and now he hits you up?”
“Yeah.”
What insane talent. Less than a year since starting, already Grandmaster and pro offers. Common enough among pros, but for a girl? Probably a first.
“Think it over and decide. I gave advice, but it's your call.”
“Got it.”
Conversation winding down—time to keep my promise. Perfect timing too.
“Alright, dinner time?”
“You're buying mala tang, right?”
“Fine. Let's eat.”
Dunno what flavor she saw in it, but menu pick was hers tonight.
We picked a highly rated spot from the mala tang joints everywhere.
And my first taste of mala tang was... underwhelming.
“What flavor even is this?”
Not great.
Spice smell hits too hard first.
Ingredients blended okay, though. What noodles are these? Tasty anyway. Dried tofu? Decent. Meat's meat—if it's flavorless, something's wrong. Stewed veggies went down smooth, seafood balls were alright. Hate mushrooms usually, but enoki's fine. Rice cakes and glass noodles good too. Stuff that can't taste bad.
But I couldn't fathom why girls went nuts for it.
“No clue. Hmm.”
“...You've refilled twice already, Pudge.”
“Me?”
Nah, just filling up. Anyone'd think I like mala tang. Stomach was extra empty today, that's all.
“Just hungry.”
“I love mala tang, but not that much...”
Cocky brat. You think I'm some mala tang fangirl? Her slightly disgusted side-eye stung, but you picked it.
“Refill the broth here, please.”
“Third time.”
...Whatever.
Gonna try pro
Talk to the coach
Cheering for you!
Suddenly, memories of Arang's countless tiltbag games and chats in solo queue flooded back. She rarely straight-up cursed, but if she went pro, she'd have to rein that in hard.
I snorted—joking or not, the absurdity cracked me up.
While bantering like idiots with Arang, another thought simmered subconsciously.
That envy hiding behind my worry for her. Not ugly enough to call jealousy, but proof some wish, some lingering regret still clung to me.
I'd known it all along, just kept denying it.
Pure yet sticky, dual-edged—that emotion I'd buried, hidden, averted my eyes from was peeking out again today.
The dream I could never erase, that wouldn't vanish, writhed once more.
This time, I couldn't shove it into the corner. I just looked farther away.
In the end, it was longing.