Is She a Scary Teacher? Spring (1)

One week later.

Jin Gyeo-wool dragged Gong Je-hyeon along for a weekend outing to the PC bang.

Ha Jeong-uk clearly wasn't laboring under any misunderstandings, so she figured she only needed to check on Je-hyeon's mental state one last time.

"Hey, enemy jungler's heading mid."

"Noona coming down? Want to take the fight?"

"I don't have ult."

"I do. We win this."

"You sure?"

"Come on. I'm Challenger rank 271. You think I can't read a fight this basic?"

"The other guy's ranked higher than you, though."

"If I couldn't beat people ranked higher than me in solo queue, you think I'd have made Challenger?"

His arrogance hadn't gone anywhere, but Gong Je-hyeon's ability to look at the game objectively had grown so much it was impossible to miss.

In-game, it was thanks to Jin Gyeo-wool's shotcalling. Outside of it, Coach Chae Hojin's guidance had done the rest.

He was throwing a lot less than before, too. It felt like proof that he hadn't just lucked his way into Challenger.

"Hey! You're not giving me a single kill?"

"You think I took them because I wanted to? You just couldn't land the last hits."

"Wow. That is so unfair, Noona. Fine, next time I'll throw you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a kill."

"Throw me one? I earned those myself."

"This is pissing me off."

The funny thing was that Jin Gyeo-wool had started treating Gong Je-hyeon more comfortably than any of the other players.

Sure, she'd cemented their friendship by grabbing him by the hair whenever she got bored — but the other two players' spectacular misfires had a lot to do with it, too.

Excluding Choi Do-yun, whose excessive affection for her had cooled but who still got awkward around her after hearing she supposedly liked him.

Excluding Yu Min-jae, who'd decided a perfectly healthy person was terminally ill and tried to kill himself over it on his own terms.

And excluding Ha Jeong-uk, who had zero interest in personal drama to begin with… that left exactly one person: Gong Je-hyeon.

Gong Je-hyeon, who had done absolutely nothing and simply stayed put, had somehow become the only friend she could deal with comfortably.

"Excuse me — are you Jin Gyeo-wool?"

"Ah. Yes."

"Could I get a picture with you?"

"Sure, go ahead."

The reason Je-hyeon had landed in that position was his freewheeling personality.

Even now, knowing full well these were fans who'd come to take a picture with Gyeo-wool, he was still trying to wedge himself into the camera frame to get his own name out there somehow.

"…What? Why not. Take one with me too."

"Ah. Sure."

Not the romantic interest Choi Do-yun wore on his sleeve. Not the over-the-top seriousness of Yu Min-jae. Just someone she could bicker with and still get along with.

Bae Do-hyun hadn't had friends in high school, so he couldn't say for certain — but Gong Je-hyeon was the only person who gave off that kind of vibe.

"You are shameless."

"Come on. I've got to get my name out there somehow. People come looking for you on their own, Noona. Not me."

"…Okay, fair."

There was no denying how much Gyeo-wool benefited from her looks. If she'd been an ordinary male player, she never would have gotten this much attention.

"Sometimes it seems like you think of me as some kind of golden ticket. Am I right?"

"Whoa. Noona, have you learned mind-reading now?"

"It's written all over your face, you lunatic."

Gong Je-hyeon blinked a couple of times at that. The unnecessary tension in his eyes made his face look terrifying.

"That expression makes you look like an idiot."

"Oh…. Wait, no — you nailed it, Noona. I stick around because the honey drips when I'm next to you. That's exactly right."

He's so honest it almost makes me mad. Gyeo-wool ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nearly grabbed him by the hair on pure reflex, then held back because they were in public.

"At first you latched onto me because you wanted me as your girlfriend."

"Eh. That was then. After our one-on-one, I realized something."

"What?"

Gong Je-hyeon laid his true feelings out without a shred of shame.

"If I ever run into Jin Gyeo-wool in the pro scene, I'm the one getting destroyed. So I should stay on the same team as her whenever possible! Honestly, I can just ride the free win. As long as I don't throw, we win. Hasn't every game we've played been exactly like that?"

He was being blatantly opportunistic, and somehow she still couldn't bring herself to hate it. For all his talk, there weren't many people who could hold mid as reliably as Gong Je-hyeon.

The endless brain-melts that had once seemed permanent were settling into something stable, and while his champion pool was still as wide as ever, his mastery on each pick was climbing steadily too.

Gong Je-hyeon was a perfect case study of what happened when someone who'd coasted on raw talent, playing half-heartedly while people called him a genius, actually got consistent training and coaching.

"I think this every time, but you're way too honest for your own good."

"What's wrong with that? Isn't it better than thinking I'm going to suck Jin Gyeo-wool dry to the marrow on the inside while going Noona's the best~ Noona's amazing~ and sucking up on the outside?"

He had a point.

Gyeo-wool found herself nodding before she could stop it.

"See? You agree too, Noona."

"…Wait. Did I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just nod?"

"You did."

"Damn it."

She'd gone and given Gong Je-hyeon a completely unnecessary confidence boost. Gyeo-wool clicked her tongue, mourning her own mistake as she swallowed her irritation.

Until now, she'd deliberately avoided praising Je-hyeon or agreeing with him. The second his ego inflated, he went completely feral. And since the only way to control a rampaging lunatic was to grab him by the hair, she had to maintain a hard line with him if she wanted to avoid doing exactly that.

"Anyway. Just keep doing what you're doing."

"Ah… what, were you worried because of Choi Do-yun and Yu Min-jae?"

"Yeah."

At the word worried, Gong Je-hyeon burst out laughing. He stood there cackling in mid lane for so long that the enemy landed a shutdown on him.

He yelped — and kept laughing the whole time.

"You really do worry too much. Besides, I'm scared of you, Noona. Keeping this much distance is perfect for me."

"…You're scared of me?"

"Of course I am. The first time we met, I genuinely thought you'd made a deal with a devil."

Gyeo-wool had been about to brush it off with a snort — then her eyes snapped wide and she turned to look at him. Je-hyeon was teleporting into the jungle like nothing had happened, massacring the mid laner who'd just taken the shutdown.

"A deal with a devil?"

"I'm saying you were that overwhelming at our first meeting. It's nothing special — I've just got this… spiritual sensitivity, I guess? I'm better at it than most people, so I see ghost-type stuff a lot."

"…."

"So I was shocked the first time I saw you. There was a devil in your eyes, Noona."

This guy.

Is he actually seeing ghosts?

Gyeo-wool let out a short, incredulous breath.

Ordinarily she would have laughed it off — but the fact that he'd specifically said devil made it clear he'd sensed Hon Gyeo-wool, the one sleeping inside her.

"A devil? What are you, some edgy middle-schooler?"

"Hey, that's cold. I just saw what I saw, okay?"

"Saw what? You're saying you actually saw a devil? Were you dreaming?"

"…? No, I really saw it. Damn it, it's not like I can show you."

Gong Je-hyeon kept smacking his lips in frustration, but Gyeo-wool shut down his suspicions for good.

Nobody short of a full-blown delusional would jump to the same conclusion Je-hyeon had — but if anyone ever did start suspecting some kind of inhuman power was involved, this was decent practice for how to handle it.

…Though who besides Gong Je-hyeon would ever think something like that.

No matter how she turned it over, you had to be in the terminal stages of middle-school syndrome to even go there.

Gyeo-wool snorted and smacked him on the back of the head.

"Ow! What the hell?!"

"Aren't you hungry? Let's eat."

"The game's not over yet."

"It'll be done in five minutes, so just pick what you want."

"You buying, Noona?"

"Depends on how you behave."

"I'm craving seasoned galbi, Noona."

"Deal."

They'd been forced to rest over the weekend, and with every player's misunderstanding cleared up, there was suddenly nothing left to tackle with any real drive.

Autumn rain was drizzling down outside, making the idea of going out even less appealing. In the end, Jin Gyeo-wool naturally fused with her bed.

With nothing to do, her brain automatically started replaying the past two weeks. The people at the PC bang who'd recognized her came to mind first.

Her name recognition among gamers had clearly gone up. A few of them had remembered her old streaming days and asked, a little wistfully, if she couldn't do a personal broadcast again sometime.

"Personal streaming…. Now that I think about it, it's been a while…."

If there was nothing to do, you made something to do. A good idea hit her, and Gyeo-wool sat bolt upright.

Nothing accelerated fame quite like streaming. Gamers watched game streams all the time, so pulling aggro through a personal broadcast seemed like a solid plan.

She wasn't the type to get herself in trouble by dropping f-bombs in all-chat mid-game anyway. And her skill level had climbed so high that there was nothing left to swear about while playing. If a teammate did something stupid, she just carried the game by force and that was that.

My game sense is pretty much at its ceiling, so practicing flashy plays on physical-heavy champions wouldn't be a bad idea.

Picking attack-oriented champions and hunting for mad-movie angles could work too.

Landing a counter when the enemy dove early to stunt her growth and snagging the kill. Or crushing the enemy top laner while their jungler was nowhere to be found and then running the map for the rest of the game. That kind of thing.

Maybe this was a good opportunity. There were five weeks left until the tournament — she could just play about six hours a day, right? She didn't even have to stick to top lane. Playing every role and studying useful strategy points for the other players wouldn't hurt either.

But six straight hours alone would inevitably make the stream boring. She was still hunting for good content when her brother Jin Ju-yeong's yelling from the next room — mid-game, screaming at his screen — floated over to her ears.

"…Come to think of it. What tier is that guy again?"

A plan that would pull in more viewers and keep her Memory Erosion from climbing any further. Gyeo-wool bounced off the bed and barged into her brother's room.

*

Jin Ju-yeong had been deep in a Recon game when his little sister suddenly threw the door open and stormed in. He jumped and asked,

"Uh, Gyeo-wool. What's up?"

Driving her to the practice room every day had worn down a lot of his old terror of her. The fact that he wasn't pure panic anymore was proof enough.

"I'm going to stream every weekend."

But why lead with that? Was she here to pressure him into being her manager again?

Sure, he'd volunteered for the manager role back when she did personal streams before joining the practice room — but once she'd started living there full-time in May, he'd stepped down a long time ago. That had already been four months.

And it wasn't like she was going to stream forever. Why bring it up out of nowhere?

Ju-yeong was busy buying items at the fountain and answered half-distractedly without meaning to.

"Uh… sure! Go ahead."

And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that got on Jin Gyeo-wool's nerves.

Both of her hands shot out and clamped down on the top of Ju-yeong's head.

"Ack. Wh-why?"

"Uh… sorry. Reflex. Also, don't go to the teamfight. Hit the Peacock."

"What? If I don't go it's a 4v5."

"Your team'll still win."

What was this. Ju-yeong was baffled.

All Gyeo-wool had done since walking into the room was watch him buy items at the fountain, issue a move command on the map, and hit tab to check the scoreboard for about ten seconds.

And in that tiny window she was predicting how the upcoming teamfight would go? Was that even possible?

"No, I should still g— aaagh!"

"Start hitting the Peacock. Now. Your team will win the fight on their own. Take the Peacock and end the game."

"Okay, okay!"

Like someone working a joystick on a robot, Gyeo-wool's hands stayed locked in his hair and steered him.

Ju-yeong started hitting the Peacock with a face full of doubt.

But his champion was an adult. A critical top laner who could split the enemy formation with a single engage in a teamfight. And they were going to win the fight without him? How was that possible?

It worked?

After winning the teamfight and resetting, his teammates sprinted over to the Peacock pit and happily finished off the half-cooked objective.

"See? Told you."

"…Yeah. You did."

Jin Ju-yeong felt like he was dreaming.

Of course he'd checked the rankings and seen how fast Gyeo-wool had grown since joining the practice room — but he hadn't realized she'd become a monster on this level.

Was this the caliber of Challenger rank 134?

No. Was she even someone who belonged stuck at 134?

"Stream with me."

"…What? Stream?"

"Yeah. Our coach told me I practice too much and to take weekends off. But I'm bored, so I need something to do."

But why him, out of nowhere? Ju-yeong tilted his head and blinked.

"I'm going to do about six hours. Half of that will be tutoring. You're the first student."

An unexpected content pitch from his little sister.

Ju-yeong hesitated for a fraction of a second — but the answer had been decided from the start. Her hand was still buried in his hair, after all.

The sensation of his hair being pulled triggered massive PTSD. He yelped in pure terror.

"F-fine! I'll do it!"