I Want to Play Tuhon, Teacher (4)
[Winner is SDGB!]
She landed a critical hit, but in the end, victory went to Renmam.
"Haa... fuck... I lost......"
The viewers are thrilled, saying it's been ages since they saw such an exciting match, but Ppase, the loser, is burning up inside. In the end, that one air combo was all he got. Renmam didn't make a single mistake after that and closed out the game.
Ppase hammered his keyboard with a heavy heart.
Renmam beats the local editor's account and ranks up. No promotion match for smurf accounts—it's like the game's way of pressuring you to push past this bracket quick.
He strings together a bunch of periods like he's totally deflated, but Ppase doesn't really mind.
"Man, you're sharp as a knife. Whatever, I was gonna change the editor account nick anyway, so no biggie."
And right as he says that, a chat flies in.
"Huh."
Ppase, caught off guard, glances at the viewer list right away. Trying to spot Renmam's account ID.
But there are nearly 10,000 viewers. How the hell do you find Renmam in that? Needle in a haystack.
"Ah, no, that's way too weeb..."
"Ha, I do pull off cute pretty well. Cutie Ppase? Cutie♡"
But that's exactly what Ppase wants. Gross nicknames are a blessing for a guy who thrives on viewer suffering. Plus, that last move kept Renmam hanging around in chat instead of dipping.
"Wait, no, we didn't bet on that?!"
But Renmam's mood swings like a reed in the wind—if you piss her off even a little, poof, she's gone. To keep the VIP around, Ppase has to beg harder.
"O-oh, ahem! If Teacher bestows it, how could I refuse? I'll spam it. I'm the retard who got bodied by a trash char on a balanced one! I'm the retard who got bodied by a trash char on a balanced one! I'm the retard who got bodied by a trash char on a balanced one!"
That buys him more time. Just as Ppase's lips curl up with hopes of facing Renmam again...
Rank match over. Back in the lobby, Ppase stares blankly at the screen, struggling to process what just happened. After a moment, he yells excitedly.
"Yo, you see that?! Did you see?! Renmam just acknowledged me, right? Right?!"
Renmam said she was surprised. He caught that split-second moment and got props for it.
"You idiots can't read the room? She's saying she's not at the level to teach me yet. See? If I get better? She'll teach me. Told me to practice more. Right? I'm right?"
The donations and chat are ice cold. No way Renmam's sane enough to hang with Ppase willingly.
"Guys."
Ppase, done with the chatter, grabs the water bottle by his monitor and chugs. Then he speaks.
"Just my gut, but I don't think she's pro. Why smurf if she was?"
But is there any retired pro who can hang with Mixer? It's like a silhouette in the fog—clear but not.
Who the hell is she? Someone pulling off impossible Ren plays like that.
"Haa... few more games and I'd know for sure."
"Kill my... fire? My heart's burning..."
"Shut up you bastards. Stream ends here today."
"What bank? Got stuff to think about. Changing nick and logging off."
Stream's the issue now? With Renmam dangling a sliver of possibility, he can't stop here. Gotta uncover the heavenly master behind the mask. Drag her back on stage somehow.
"Starting tomorrow, Great Detective Ppase returns after ages. With this overwhelming physical god, I'll compare pro playstyles and nail it. Yeah?"
He grabs random glasses, poses with a V under his chin for the cam.
No more variety Tuhon for a while. The vets who've seen this rodeo before just toss annoyed jabs.
*
She set the keyboard aside and rubbed her brow. Was gonna stay quiet, but slipped up. Holding on through endless pressure, snagging hope, then countering. The oil inside her couldn't hold back the spark of talent she spotted.
No big deal probably...
She stood to grab a soda from the fridge, but Ta-in suddenly grabbed her.
"Lena. Shoulder hurt by chance?"
"Nah?"
"That mid-hit... shoulder pain cause a misinput?"
How's someone who only watches pro games got eyes like that? Ta-in should be the pro gamer, not her. Or coach or director.
"Nah."
"Everything you've denied before turned out wrong."
"Did it...?"
She dodges to the fridge. Click—the fancy big fridge swings open. Empty except a few cans. Grabs the front King Cola.
Pssht. Cool fizz escapes. Tilts head back to chug—and then.
"Urk-guhk! Ack cold!"
Insane pain floods her left shoulder. Like a chisel stabbing. Cola splashes her face. Reflex saves the can from floor-rolling, but her clothes are soaked.
"Lena."
Ta-in wipes her face with tissue and says,
"Your job... anything bad for your health?"
"N-no."
"Really...? Shoulder not from work?"
"Probably not?"
Ta-in stares with puffed cheeks and teary eyes.
"Really ok to not worry?"
To reassure her, she rolls her left shoulder easy. But agony returns.
"Not really—gyaaah."
"......"
Shoulder never hurt like this at work. Games pump endorphins to numb pain, right? Or endorphins came but still hurts, so shoulder's fucked?
Don't lift heavy stuff for a while. Waist/legs fine, but shoulder/arm sprain bad. Especially left.
Doc pinpointed it, but she thought it'd be ok. Better if she possessed other Tuhon heroes? Ren's K-idol motif keeps her at normal human limits maybe.
"No good. Hospital tomorrow together."
"Don't wanna..."
"What if... what if serious injury..."
Tears plop on floor. Can't ignore Ta-in's grave face.
"I'll go."
"..."
Ta-in sighs deep, hugs her.
"Told you... hate seeing you hurt... even if I die."
Her wistful eyes—same from first meet, one month, half-year now. Doesn't know the root. Knows she's yearning for someone, but no guts to ask.
Buried in Ta-in's chest, she looks up and asks.
"It's nothing big~." Grins hehe to cheer her.
Ta-in mutters pouty.
"Better be..."
"Why so grumpy."
"Shoulder hurts and didn't tell me. Really disappointed."
"N-no, thought it was nothing?"
"This hurts and nothing?!"
"Ow, ow ow ow!!"
Smile op worked, but gotta quit the depot soon. Whole day stuck to Ta-in's too much. Wanna get out, but half-year-ago hell flashbacks make her hesitate.
***