VLL Finals (5)
The moment the blue team's nexus shattered, the entire arena surged like a single living wave.
No matter how skilled a player Para was, the matchup still boiled down to amateurs versus retired pros who still had serious game. Most of the people packed into the venue had fully expected a massive skill gap across every lane — mid included.
Everyone's expectations were thoroughly overturned. The winner of Set 1 was Arts Specialty, with a mid-lane carry thrown in for free.
And yet, among those watching, there had been people who believed in Arts Specialty's fight — who believed in Para's victory.
Nice!
Choi Eunseo, pumping her fist in pure delight, was one of them.
"Young miss, does that mean the team you're cheering for just won?"
"The match isn't over — they just took a set. In soccer terms, they scored a goal, and my friend was the one who scored it!"
"She must be quite something."
"Yeah. She's incredible."
Choi Eunseo loved League enough to keep up with the LCK and every other league on top of it, but this finals series was her first time watching live. It was a golden day off she'd only managed to wring out of her parents by throwing a full tantrum — parents who normally never allowed her private outings.
"By the way, young miss, how long is this going to go?"
"If it ends early, maybe nine or ten. If it runs long, around one in the morning?"
"Excuse me?"
"Finals are best of five. They always run late."
"Ha, but… you told the Chairman you'd be home by eight."
"Don't know. I get to do this kind of thing for one day, at least."
Her bodyguard, Kim Minseo, couldn't hide her panic. She was Choi Eunseo's guard, yes — but technically, her employers were Eunseo's parents.
Eunseo looked straight at the floundering Kim Minseo and spoke with absolute confidence.
"Oppa said I should start getting out more, so stop worrying so much."
"If the Director said so, that does put me more at ease, but…"
"Enough. Go buy more popcorn."
"Understood. Flavor…?"
"Caramel, obviously!"
Finally free of her clingy bodyguard, Choi Eunseo let out a long breath. Between her chronic condition and a constitution that had always been frail, her body was already feeling the strain of being out this long.
Still. I got invited.
Originally she'd planned to watch the finals from home. But she couldn't bring herself to turn down the first free, no-strings-attached kindness anyone had ever offered her.
"Um…"
Someone tapped the shoulder of Choi Eunseo, who was dry-washing her face and trying to catch her breath. She turned — and found a familiar face.
"Yoon… Seoha?"
It was a face she knew and somehow didn't. For a split second she wondered if a future Yoon Seoha had hopped a time machine and dropped in.
"Are you all right, student? And do you know Seoha?"
From that short exchange alone, Choi Eunseo pieced together who the woman was.
"…Seoha's mother?"
"That's right… Are you a friend of Seoha's, by any chance…?"
"Ah— yes! I am. We're school friends."
In an instant Choi Eunseo snapped back to her usual energy, smiling as she answered.
"Oh my, I never expected to run into one of Seoha's friends here. First things first — are you feeling okay?"
"Ah, yes, yes! I just got a little carried away cheering just now!"
No way…
Choi Eunseo had drawn excessive attention from everyone around her since she was little, so meeting a friend's parents was never a welcome experience. Most parents would do anything to get their kids connected to her, and for Eunseo those encounters sat uncomfortably close to trauma.
She tensed a little, bracing for something similar.
"Could you tell me how Seoha's been doing at school?"
Instead, Seoha's parents only seemed curious about their daughter's school life. They barely seemed interested in Eunseo herself.
"…Seoha at school, huh."
That alone was more than enough to melt her wariness.
"Ahh~ as expected, they're strong — Still Good After Retirement! Living up to the team name and showing everyone what 'actually good' looks like!"
"It's not easy for Arts Specialty. Even if people say League is a mid-diff game, a mid-carry game — that doesn't mean the rest of the map doesn't matter."
"Right after that flashy Set 1 win, they drop Set 2, and now they're getting pushed around in Set 3. Has to sting."
"Para put up a carry in Set 1 and a real fight in Set 2, but this Set 3 she looks like she's getting swept along with the team."
"On the flip side, Zenith locked in his most-played champion and just ran over top lane."
"They made the call to give up the fourth dragon and dragged the game out to forty minutes. This is the real must-go timing now."
"Jayce poke hurts, sure, but look at Malphite. Armor is six-seventy. Six-seventy. You just tank it and shove."
"Lane phase was rough, but what is Malphite? You take the L and pay it back! One good ult and this is a full life-flip window."
"And there it is — Arts Specialty starting to chip the Elder! Top inhib is down so the wave is crashing in; they're on the clock!"
"They have to make a call! Fight, or take it and defend base!"
"Ahh~ they pick off the ADC, but Jayce is just too strong."
"Still Good After Retirement is converting that into an ace! If they keep marching like this, Set 3 is decided."
"Arts Specialty has looked way too tight from the back half of Set 2 on. They need to breathe. Even if the other side is strong, once you're in the finals, they're just another opponent."
"And with that, the nexus goes down — defeat~"
"…"
The waiting room after Set 3 was thick with silence.
Right after Set 1, people had been joking about sweeping 3–0 and heading straight to a team dinner. Dropping two sets in a row had clearly hit the roster hard.
I already took a set, so I don't really care either way.
Back in my pro days I'd lived through reverse sweeps — lose, lose, win, win, win — more than once. Right now we only needed two more sets for the title. Way easier situation.
I opened my mouth to lift the mood.
"We just need one set."
Every teammate who'd been staring at the floor looked up at me.
"If we get to Set 5, I'll carry no matter what. So let's just lock in together for Set 4."
"Of course you're good, Seoha, but… their top and bot are way stronger than we expected."
Shen-saengnim forced the words out in a voice with no confidence behind it. He'd been getting shoved around by their top since the qualifiers, and in the finals he'd been completely dismantled — I got it.
Even so, Set 4 needed Shen-saengnim to carry.
"Then — if you get Shen, can you beat their top?"
"Probably…"
"That attitude doesn't work. Can you win no matter what they pick?"
Pressure and the bot duo jumped in for me.
"The best Shen player in the world walking around with that energy is kind of mid, no?"
"Who was it that kept saying if he gets Shen he's pro-level?"
"Seoha's carried how many games already? Be a man and say you'll take one."
Hearing that, Shen-saengnim clenched his fist like he'd made a decision and stood up.
"If I get Shen, I'll show you. But they keep banning it — how are we supposed to…"
"I'll guarantee it opens this set."
Looking at their tendencies and ban-pick patterns, they'd go for the safest, highest-win-rate draft without getting cocky.
But that's exactly the poison.
The ban-pick they'd try was almost certainly a mid triple-ban — locking out every champion I could carry on. Shen-saengnim had shown a catastrophic floor across the last three sets, so they'd free up Shen for at least one game. That much was certain.
…
…
…
A textbook specimen of excellent judgment.
Just as expected, Shen came open, and as the blue side we first-picked it.
"Told you."
"…This game's my atonement carry."
There's a saying that when Shen-saengnim locks Shen, he plays at a level that borders on pro.
I really like that saying.