"I Want to Bring Arang Along"
"You want to bring in Arang?"
"Yeah. That's why I'm asking you to help make it happen. She's the last top laner on my shortlist."
Yeah.
Aranggaiger—Arang—was definitely an attractive prospect when I thought about it. For starters, her physicality was on another level.
In the pro scene, there's a tendency to prefer players with raw physical talent over those who only shine through game sense. It's this common belief that physical skills can't be taught, but game sense can be honed with coaching. I wasn't sure if that was entirely true, but...
Plus, Arang was ridiculously young. Age is obviously a factor too. The younger the player, the higher their growth potential is valued in sports—and esports was no different. Taking that into account, Arang was basically the perfect catch.
Except for one thing: she was a girl.
Did the coach even know she was female when he brought this up?
And did he know she'd been negotiating with another team just recently?
Did he even know her age?
"Coach, do you know anything else about Arang? Like her age. What if she's super old?"
"I've matched against her a few times and even laned up. From the way she chats, she can't be older than high school age, no matter what."
...That was sharper insight than I'd expected. Yeah, it wouldn't be easy to imagine someone chatting like that being older.
I liked Arang. She was cute, and even though she had her rough edges online, I thought she was a good kid at heart. But whether she'd make a good teammate was a whole different question.
I knew she regretted not going pro. She'd love this offer. But I was a pro, and pros always had to make the best call.
It wasn't that I disliked Arang. If there were no other options, I might have welcomed her myself. But we had Sharpness as an alternative, and this wasn't a decision to make based on personal feelings.
"You're right. She is a high schooler. But she hasn't had her birthday yet, so she can't compete right now. Don't we need a top laner who can play immediately?"
"Didn't you come from the second division yourself? You might not know, but the ECK Challenger League has a one-year younger age limit for eligibility. A high schooler can play right away. She's not a grade-skipper, is she?"
...Oh, right. There was a rule like that. It had never affected me directly, so I'd completely forgotten. But that wasn't the end of it.
"Do you know she's been negotiating with another team?"
It had fallen through recently, but still.
"I do. That's why I'm asking you. Honestly, from what I see, there's not much merit for her to switch from that team to ours."
"Which team is it?"
"Milky Way Hynix."
Milky Way Hynix—the team that won Worlds after our miracle run to the finals with CM Revolution Gaming ended in runner-up. They took down Starforce in the semifinals.
They'd fallen off now, barely clinging to sixth place, but they were still a first-division team. And you couldn't ignore the prestige of being Worlds champions.
"For real."
"Exactly. So, since you're close to her, can't you talk to her about it?"
"Isn't that kind of sneaky?"
Using our friendship to lure her away.
"It is sneaky. But it's not illegal, and it doesn't violate ECK rules. Pros do whatever it takes to win."
I almost protested that it was morally questionable, but I held back.
He was right—there were no rules against it. It was just an unspoken agreement to avoid bad blood.
By now, I'd realized this guy thought differently from normal people, so arguing more was pointless. Besides, with the other negotiations busted, there were no issues left.
"Anyway, those talks fell through, so it's not a problem anymore."
"...Really? That's weird. Milky Way's top contract is up this year, and they haven't been satisfied with their performance. I figured they'd want her bad."
"There's a reason."
Yeah, I guess I had to say it myself. I didn't want to, but no choice.
"Arang's a girl."
I figured that would make the coach back off, but his reaction surprised me.
"Oh, really? Then that's even better. Front office would probably approve too."
"Huh?"
"Why so shocked?"
"Well... isn't it a bit surprising that you're still on board?"
"What's surprising? You're a girl, and Seohui's a girl too."
Right. But I'd originally been a guy, and Seohui was pretty much forced on us due to a lack of options and front office pressure.
If there'd been alternatives, she probably wouldn't be on the team—I might have been fine, but not her.
"I used to be a guy."
"Doesn't matter. I only care about game skill."
What could I even say? I was speechless.
"Gender's no big deal. Monitors don't show faces anyway."
Even after becoming a woman and vowing to prove I could still go pro and excel, deep down, I hadn't shaken those old thoughts.
The coach was different. It made me feel a little... ashamed.
But that was that, and this was this.
My objection to Arang wasn't about her being a girl—it was her current skill level.
"I'm still against it. I agree that with good coaching, she could become a great player. But we don't have time to wait for her to grow. Not when we need to push for first division right now. Sharpness is the right call."
"Can't argue with that. But to succeed, you eventually have to roll the dice on a gamble sometime."
Right?
Dice.
"And more importantly, you're missing something. The choice isn't yours—it's hers."
Those last two points shook me. He was right. To pull off an insane upset, we needed to gamble.
We couldn't deny we were massive underdogs. Gambling wasn't optional; it was essential.
Without it, there'd be no reversal—just a slow rot into defeat.
And he was spot on about the choice too.
Even if I objected as a teammate, I had no right to block Arang's decision as her friend.
That was hers alone to make.
"If you really hate it, fine. I can talk to her myself—no problem."
And now that Milky Way was out, the coach reaching out directly was no issue either.
Yeah. At this point, there were no moral or other barriers to stop his offer.
But if it had to happen,
if we were making a pro offer to Arang,
"No. Got it. I'll talk to her. Directly."
Then I had to be the one.
"You sure?"
"I won't try to stop her. You're right—the choice is hers. I can object as a teammate, but I can't block her decision."
I had to tell Arang something anyway. If I was passing on this offer, I had to reveal my secret first.
It was coming sooner than I'd thought, but it was inevitable eventually.
Just a bit early.
Confess my secret to Arang, relay the coach's offer, and whatever she decides, don't stand in her way.
At least as her friend.
...But that didn't mean I could easily accept her as a teammate.
"That said, I won't accept kicking Sharpness out just like that."
"It's not like I can cut him on a whim anyway."
"Do it fair and square. No forcing Sharpness out—test him against Arang."
"...Seriously? Put a Worlds quarterfinalist top laner against a total amateur newbie?"
"Arang would lose, obviously. But you make the call based on the results. If you want her, you can cite potential or cheap salary or whatever. This is my condition as the team's mid laner. I have the right to weigh in on roster decisions."
Yeah. This was the line I had to draw as a pro.
If Arang was joining to go pro, it had to be after a fair test.
She'd be at a massive disadvantage everywhere except 1v1s, but she'd have to pull it off.
If she couldn't even manage that, I wouldn't accept her easily—no matter how much I cared for her. If she joined, we'd be a team, not just friends.
"Fine, we'll do it that way."
"Give me two days."
The coach agreed, and I asked for two days.
"Two days?"
"I can't have her show up unprepared."
"You're against her joining, but you're okay helping her with the test?"
Yeah. From my position opposing her entry, helping with the test was shooting myself in the foot. Like sending sugar to the enemy. Or was it salt?
But no helping it. If she passed, I'd have no grounds to block her anyway.
More than that, honestly, I was a little—
"I've kinda fallen for that kid a bit."
It was just unavoidable, you know.