Giving Image Rehab a Shot (3)

"Hey. Lee Yeong-bin."

The sudden summons hit like a whip crack. His friends practically kicked him forward, shoving him out into the open.

"Go already. Your master is calling."

"Hurry up!"

The subtext was crystal clear: if you don't go, she's going to torch the entire classroom mood again. Move.

Lee Yeong-bin flailed his way forward in a graceless scramble and barely managed to stop himself by grabbing the lockers at the back of the room.

"Uh — Gyeo-wool? What's up?"

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Huh?"

The friends who'd been trailing at the head of Yeong-bin's group filtered back into the classroom doorway — and froze the second they saw the two of them squared off. Nobody crossed the threshold. They just stood there, stuck between the door and the windows.

"You can't just leave me sleeping and walk off. What is wrong with you?"

"Uh…"

Every single person watching felt exactly what Lee ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yeong-bin was feeling right now.

If he had woken her up, she would have lost it on him for waking her up. That much was guaranteed.

Even Han Yeo-reum and Cha Ga-eul — the ones who actually claimed to be Jin Gyeo-wool's friends — hadn't touched her once she dozed off. And what did that tell you? Friend or not, you did not interrupt Jin Gyeo-wool's nap.

And Lee Yeong-bin was supposed to wake her? He would have been shredded to ribbons by one swipe of that terrifying tiger's sleepy little paws.

How he answered here mattered. The entire class was stacking their hopes on his shoulders — they just wanted to get back in, pack up, and go home already.

"S-so, uh… the thing is…"

A collective gulp. Every watching eye locked onto the tiniest twitch of Lee Yeong-bin's lips — and in that exact instant, Han Yeo-reum burst through the crowd like a popped cork and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠launched herself at Jin Gyeo-wool.

"Gyeo-wool Gyeo-wool~!"

"Ack — what the hell?"

"Snack bar?"

"I have to go home. What snack bar?!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Snack bar. Let's go. Snack bar. C'mon?"

The one who'd ordered Han Yeo-reum's emergency deployment was Cha Ga-eul, still half-hidden among their friends. Drag this out any longer and kids from other classes would start rubbernecking — so she'd thrown Yeo-reum in as a tactical strike.

"Hey, wait — why didn't you wake me ei—"

"Just hurry up already! You're so loud! Come ooon!"

Jin Gyeo-wool thrashed and flailed as Han Yeo-reum hauled her off, and in front of them the crowd parted like the Red Sea.

Everyone silently raised a mental thumbs-up toward Han Yeo-reum for single-handedly defusing a full-scale crisis.

Friends drifted over to Lee Yeong-bin, who was still staring blankly after the departing Gyeo-wool, and patted him on the shoulder.

"You did good."

"Yeah. Honestly? That was more than enough… You're the greatest tank in history."

They all looked at him with pity — but the pity was packed full of genuine gratitude. Without him, who knew what would have become of Class 2-3 this year.

Either way, Hwasong High and Teacher Kim Seongyeong's Contain Jin Gyeo-wool Operation was already about ninety percent successful.

While Jin Gyeo-wool was being dragged off to the snack bar by Han Yeo-reum, closing homeroom wrapped up as if on cue, and the entire class cleared out for home.

Only Lee Yeong-bin stayed behind, alone in the classroom, helping with the task Teacher Kim Seongyeong had asked of him.

When Jin Gyeo-wool finally wandered back in, she ignored the working Yeong-bin entirely, perched herself on whatever desk was handy, and started reviewing yesterday's 2018 CCK Spring Split matches.

The job was simple enough: staple ten pages of handouts into sets for every student in class. It shouldn't have taken long, but Lee Yeong-bin deliberately dragged it out.

He needed an excuse — once Gyeo-wool came back, kill some time with her, then suggest they hit the PC bang together.

"I've got somewhere I need to take you today. Mind heading home first?"

"Take me where?"

"The PC bang."

For that plan to work, he'd deliberately sent Han Yeo-reum and Cha Ga-eul home ahead of them. Image Rehab Operation, Phase One — successfully becoming class president and vice president together — was done. Next up was Phase Two: playing League of Council with his friends.

"Hey, Gyeo-wool."

"Yeah."

The match video Gyeo-wool had been watching wrapped up at the exact moment Yeong-bin spoke. She killed the phone screen and tipped her head slightly in his direction.

"When you're done with that — wanna hit the PC bang together?"

The words PC bang lit something up in her. Not the usual bored, half-lidded look — real curiosity flickered across her face, and she actually blinked.

"I play with my friends a lot, honestly. I wanted to throw you into the mix and run a five-man queue sometime."

No way. He had friends besides her? Jin Gyeo-wool realized she'd completely misread Lee Yeong-bin. She'd figured he latched onto a personality disaster like Hon Gyeo-wool because he had nobody else — but he had three whole friends and still looked out for her anyway.

Just like that, Lee Yeong-bin locked in a permanent slot in Jin Gyeo-wool's mind as a genuinely, ridiculously good guy.

"I'm down. What tiers are they?"

"I'm Gold. Highest one's Diamond. Other two are Gold and Silver."

Gyeo-wool snorted at the tier rundown. Adorable little friends. Three of them Gold and Silver? She could already picture herself walking in and hard-carrying the lot of them.

The Diamond one might actually be somewhat useful, at least.

It might not do much for her own skill ceiling — but experience playing through every kind of messy situation would pay off later, no question.

That was the nature of a team game. Not everyone could pop off every time. Somebody was going to int, and somebody else had to clean up the mess if you wanted to win.

In a good mood, Jin Gyeo-wool accepted Lee Yeong-bin's offer.

"Cool. Let's go. How much longer on that?"

Every day she got dragged home by Han Yeo-reum and Cha Ga-eul, stuck listening to boring girl-talk the whole way. She'd been dreading more of the same — so Yeong-bin stepping up first and suggesting they go play games felt almost touching.

"Uh, just a few left."

"I'll help."

"Huh? Wait, what?"

Jin Gyeo-wool was only helping because she was buzzing to get to the games and wanted to leave faster. But watching her, Lee Yeong-bin felt his chest tighten.

Gyeo-wool… she's really changing.

Every time, he'd hoped — and every time, his stomach had twisted. Today alone he'd flinched half a dozen times. There'd been more than a few moments that could have ended with someone getting their hair yanked.

And still, he'd believed in her. Believed she could turn things around. That her resolve was solid.

Lee Yeong-bin accepted the unexpected gift of Jin Gyeo-wool's growth and felt genuinely, deeply glad.

"Here. Gather them up to page ten and staple them."

"Got it."

Image rehab. It was a reckless operation that could collapse at any second.

But big risks came with big rewards — and Jin Gyeo-wool's rehabilitation was that reward.

Already Phase Two. At this pace, the Image Rehab Operation was going to keep rolling smooth.

And of course it would. A few months back, Lee Yeong-bin had become the second manager of the channel Devil Maiden. If the first manager — Gyeo-wool's older brother Jin Ju-yeong — poured everything into the streams and the videos, then the second manager's role had been locked in from day one.

Reform the mad dog Jin Gyeo-wool. Fix her image. That was Lee Yeong-bin's single biggest goal for his entire sophomore year of high school.

"Ah, you fucking — Yuk Min-dick. Are you throwing on purpose?"

"Don't call me that shitty name. I'm not throwing, okay?"

"You piece of shit. Then try playing properly for once!"

"Man, this game is going absolutely nowhere."

"Yeah, because you're inting it into the ground."

Every high school in the area had gotten out early for opening ceremony, so the PC bang was packed wall to wall. Yeong-bin's three friends had managed to snag seats — but they hadn't secured one for him.

"Yuk Silver-trash, Yuk Silver-trash, what a bop~"

"I hear that garbage song, so our Gold-trash Yeong-bin must be here."

"Whoa. Eleven deaths? How do you even die that many times?"

"Even a Gold can see how tragic Silver-trash Min-su's reality is."

"For real though, this is all because our ADC keeps throwing, okay? Lee Yeong-bin, grab a seat already. I can't keep playing with randoms."

Why did Silver players always run the same tired scripts? Lee Yeong-bin snorted and wandered off hunting for an empty seat. No matter where he looked, though — plenty of people waiting, zero open machines.

"Yo. No seats."

After a long loop of the floor, Yeong-bin reported back to Choi Go-yun, the team's designated carry. Go-yun groaned.

"None? We're screwed. Stuck rolling another game with Silver-trash Min-su."

"It's not my fau—"

"Hey. Bite down on it, you bastard."

"Just keep playing for now. I'll sit the second something opens up."

More pressingly — Jin Gyeo-wool had vanished. She'd said she was hitting the bathroom and then coming right back, but that had been ages ago. Had she gotten lost inside the PC bang? Gone completely off the map.

In a PC bang this packed, an angel-faced high school girl walking in should have been impossible to miss. So where on earth had this girl disappeared to?

Lee Yeong-bin messaged her on KakaoTalk — the contact they'd exchanged last month.

The counter? Yeong-bin turned toward the PC bang entrance and spotted her. She threw a hand straight up and waved him over.

"What are you doing over here?"

"You know the guys' IDs? Or even just their names."

"I mean, yeah, but… why?"

"Gonna top up their PC bang time for them."

Her allowance had gotten generous lately. Jin Gyeo-wool wanted to put it to smart use.

Odds were good that the friends she was about to queue LoC with today were still terrified of Hon Gyeo-wool. She wanted to give them a little gift first — an advance apology of sorts.

"How much are you putting on?"

Gyeo-wool answered by turning to the PC bang part-timer instead.

"Can you do a hundred-hour top-up?"

"Yes."

Everyone had known her family had money ever since the Lee Yeong-bin incident — but nobody had ever seen her throw cash around like this.

Not that there'd been occasions to. After that whole mess, Jin Gyeo-wool had become a completely self-contained presence in the classroom.

"A hundred hours?!"

A hundred hours ran close to a hundred thousand won per person.

"They haven't had lunch, right? Tell them to order whatever they want. I'll cover it."

"Lunch too?"

This couldn't be right. Lee Yeong-bin felt the situation starting to tilt sideways. Gyeo-wool reforming was great ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and all — but it was only now hitting him that even for a changed person, this was way too sharp a turn.

She's not scheming something else… right?

He could only hope not. If she was planning to use this as leverage to mess with his friends somehow, he was going to regret bringing her to the PC bang for a very, very long time.

Just in case, Yeong-bin told his friends he was the one treating. They cheerfully started ordering. The PC bang lunch hall-of-famers hit the table one after another — chicken mayo rice bowls, sausages, dumpling ramen. A full spread of junk-food luxury landed in front of them.

Jin Gyeo-wool watched the younger kids cheer with a warm, satisfied look, stuck a bulgogi hot bar in the microwave, and casually parked herself right behind Diamond-tier Choi Go-yun's chair.

Go-yun felt the presence behind him, assumed it was Yeong-bin, and stayed locked on the game. He was already maxed out trying to carry as the mid laner — no bandwidth to glance back.

In the middle of all that, Yuk Min-su ate a god-tier enemy grab and got yanked straight under the enemy tower, where he exploded. A little shotgun-pop of a death sound cracked off to the right.

"Holy shit. Bro their grab accuracy is cracked."

"You insane bastard. How many times do I have to ping that I'm there?"

Choi Go-yun unloaded on the pathetic Yuk Min-su.

"You're getting dragged around exactly like Lee Yeong-bin when Jin Gyeo-wool grabs him by the hair."

Yuk Min-su, staring at his gray screen, absolutely lost it laughing. Then he wiped the tears from his eyes, glanced toward Choi Go-yun — and saw someone standing behind that chair who absolutely should not have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been standing there.

"Hoh my sh—"

Yuk Min-su scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. Had to be seeing things.

He was not seeing things. Standing right there was the gracious Jin Gyeo-wool herself — bestower of a hundred hours of PC bang time and today's entire lunch.

"What's wrong with this guy now? Hey, Yuk Min-su. What is it? You look like Lee Yeong-bin after Jin Gyeo-wool just decked him."

"D-d-d-d-duh-duh-duh—"

In that moment, Yuk Min-su became an actor. Like a veteran performer who'd shown up to shoot a horror movie, his mouth and hands started trembling violently.

Choi Go-yun finally sensed something was off and turned his head —

"Ghk."

— and flung the mouse he was holding clean into the air in pure shock. It sailed up, smacked the partition, and dropped straight into the chicken mayo bowl. A beautiful bank shot.

Even watching the chaos unfold, Jin Gyeo-wool's expression didn't so much as twitch. She just looked at Choi Go-yun with a thoroughly unimpressed face, like she couldn't believe the theatrics, and issued an order.

"What are you doing. Bot's getting pushed in."

"Uh — uh?"

"I said bot's getting pushed. This is not the time for you to be rotating mid."

Gyeo-wool's finger jabbed repeatedly at the minimap tucked in the corner of the screen.

Choi Go-yun, still terrified, twisted back toward his monitor. Then he carefully fished the mouse out of the chicken mayo.

"Here. Wipe it with this."

Sensing the atmosphere had gone completely sideways, Lee Yeong-bin immediately handed over the tissues he'd grabbed. Choi Go-yun did as he was told — but he still had absolutely no idea what was happening right now.

"Bot tier two's gone. You need to rotate mid, fast. Your support's about to throw again."

"W-what? Ah — hey! Yuk Min-su you son of a—!"

But nothing in her spectating commentary was wrong. Choi Go-yun forced himself to settle, dragged his focus back together, and locked onto the game again.