The PC Bang After School (3)
The moment the referee's whistle signaled kickoff, the players began sprinting across the virtual pitch.
I straightened up in my seat and placed both hands over the keyboard. This one match, if nothing else, had to be won—so that everything I'd worked for until now wouldn't be dismissed as nothing. It was time to fully immerse myself in the avatars on my monitor.
Alright. Suppressing the opponent early is key.
Jeong Hye-in's 140-trillion squad radiated a threatening aura with every passing second, but in the end, a football game came down to a battle of fingers. With flashy, lightning-fast inputs I worked the directional keys, carving through the enemy defense with pass play so intricate it would make your eyes water just watching it. Jeong Hye-in's center-backs charged in clumsily, and I slipped past them one by one with Marseille turns and crisp body feints.
Tap-tack!
Thanks to that dazzling dribbling, my striker found himself one-on-one with the keeper barely five minutes into the match. A clean curled finish followed, and the ball slammed into the top corner of the net in a beautiful arc. The opening goal.
"Okay!"
Riding the momentum, I buried a second goal right before the first half ended, threading an impossible through-ball into perfect space. Two to nothing. The first half closed with me holding complete control—plus a touch of deliberate provocation on the side.
Once the thirty-second halftime countdown appeared in the center of my screen, I took my hands off the keyboard and turned to Jeong Hye-in in the next seat. There she was in profile, beret pulled low, glaring holes into her monitor. And seeing that expression— noticeably stiffer than before the match—I couldn't help but toss out another jab.
"So? When it comes to games, skill beats gear every time. I mean, I've climbed pretty high in official ranked matches, if I do say so myself."
"……"
At my comment, dripping with teasing and provocation, Jeong Hye-in's head, which had been locked on her monitor, slowly rotated toward me. Our eyes met naturally beneath the brim of her beret. The usual air of indifference was long gone. In its place, a blazing competitive fire filled every inch of her gaze.
…Uh-oh.
I had a bad feeling I'd just flipped a switch that should never, ever have been touched. And the instant the second-half whistle blew, that premonition became a horrifying reality crashing down onto my monitor.
From the very first second of the half, Jeong Hye-in's playstyle transformed completely. She seemed to have abandoned every awkward passing attempt and clumsy run into space she'd shown in the first half. Instead, she began ruthlessly exploiting the single overwhelming advantage her squad possessed—the absurd, physics-defying stats of her players.
Whenever the goal was so much as visible at the edge of her screen, she'd hammer the shoot button and start unleashing long-range bombs from midfield.
"No way—you're shooting from there? And it's going in?"
I didn't even have time to process the absurdity. Before a defender could even close in, Jeong Hye-in's midfielder had already launched another cannonball from distance. It was the sloppiest, most brute-force play imaginable—crushing the laws of physics through sheer overwhelming stats alone. And of course, that, too, found the back of the net every single time.
In a panic, I pushed my defensive line way up, even shoving the center-backs into midfield to try and narrow the shooting angles. I was spamming the hotkey to manually move my keeper the instant each shot left her boot, desperately trying to keep the ball out. But the ball flying off the feet of that 140-trillion squad's tier-one players followed trajectories that shattered common sense from the moment it left the ground.
Seriously? Even Roberto Carlos's UFO kick didn't bend like that.
Before my 300-million-won budget goalkeeper could even stretch out a hand, the ball was mercilessly bombarding the corners of my goal, shot after shot. And yet even with no net left untorn, Jeong Hye-in's ferocious hands—hammering the shoot button hard enough to crack her keyboard—showed no sign of letting up for the entire half.
Tadadadadak! Tak!
My own competitive streak had kicked in too, and I hammered the directional keys until sweat was dripping off me, refusing to give up until the very end. But before that towering wall of runaway capitalism, I was utterly, completely helpless. The added time ran out, and the referee's final whistle echoed across the pitch. At the same moment, the terrible final result appeared in the center of my screen.
My two-goal first-half lead had been erased so completely that the defeat felt less like a loss and more like a public execution.
"……"
I slowly lowered my frozen hands from the keyboard and stared blankly at the screen for a moment. Then I stole a glance toward the seat of the main culprit. Jeong Hye-in was staring hard at her monitor, lips pressed tightly together as if trying desperately to maintain a blank expression. But the corners of her mouth, twitching upward, and that oddly puffed-up pride of hers betrayed everything—both the satisfaction of her crushing victory and the wordless jab she was sending my way.
The moment I saw that infuriating expression of hers, joy barely held in check, I clenched my fist and ground my teeth.
Damn it… first thing I'm doing with the money from my next finished piece is upgrading my players.
After that, we played a couple more two-on-two matches, and just as I confirmed the PC bang event reward crates had landed in our club inventories and Hye-in and I were about to log off—
A commotion suddenly broke out near the entrance by the counter. Thinking, here we go, I poked my head up just enough to look, and there they were: a cluster of black-clad uninvited guests. Six hulking men in perfectly matched suits, black ties, and sunglasses. They exchanged a few quiet words with the owner—half apology, half notification—then began sweeping their sharp gazes across every customer in the PC bang, one by one.
Watching the middle and high schoolers around us shrivel up and avert their eyes, I didn't need to ask who they were here for.
I quickly looked away from my monitor and leaned toward the next seat, whispering to Jeong Hye-in.
"Hey. Looks like they can track you through your phone too, not just your card."
At my words, Jeong Hye-in tugged her beret down low and let out a small sigh.
"I did sneak out without telling my secretary anything after school, so obviously I expected them to come looking… I just didn't think they'd take this long."
She hauled herself up from her seat and grabbed her bag.
"I'll slip out quietly on my own. Before the sparks fly at you, or you get dragged into something annoying."
Hearing her say that—clearly trying to look out for me—I hesitated for a moment, then stood up as well. I hit the end-session button on my PC and answered.
"No. If you bolt alone, the bodyguards or the secretary might get the wrong idea—think you're some delinquent kid running wild or something. We're classmates who have to see each other every day for a whole year. I'll come with you and help explain the situation."
"…I'd appreciate that."
Our hasty strategy meeting concluded, we walked out side by side and planted ourselves directly in the path of the sunglasses-wearing men, who had just been heading our way. And then, through a series of steps so smooth they felt almost choreographed, I found myself wedged between those burly men, forcibly installed in the back seat of that black luxury sedan I'd seen parked outside the main gate that afternoon—right next to Jeong Hye-in.
The car pulled away, and the moment the destination was set for my house, the interrogation-that-wasn't-an-interrogation began from the secretary in the passenger seat.
"So. The reason you, miss, snuck out right after school to visit that shabby little PC bang of all places… was purely to collect the event rewards in person?"
The secretary's eyes bore into me through the rearview mirror. Honestly speaking, they were scary enough to make me want to fold a little. But a man has his pride. Showing fear was absolutely not an option, so I kept my composure as much as possible and answered without a single waver.
"Yes—and may I call you by Hye-in's name? Anyway, it seems she'd never experienced a PC bang before, and her curiosity got the better of her. As her classmate, I escorted her there safely, and we were on our way out the moment she collected her rewards."
"……"
At my explanation, thick with excuses, the secretary's eyebrow twitched slightly. She then tapped away at her tablet, apparently pulling something up in real time—until her gaze landed on the wooden figure perched on Jeong Hye-in's pocket, sticking out just slightly.
"Would the person who gifted the young lady that wood carving… happen to be you, student?"
"Yes, that's mine. I was whittling it to pass the time, and Hye-in seemed interested in it, so I gave it to her. She accepted."
"…I see."
Apparently the fact that I was the gift-giver counted as some form of mitigating circumstance? I could see the secretary's icy expression thawing, bit by bit. A few more rounds of sharp follow-up questions and pressure-cooker questioning later, the sedan finally rolled to a stop at the entrance of an ordinary alley in my neighborhood.
"We've arrived. You may get out."
"You really didn't have to drive us all the way here… but thank you."
I offered my thanks, quickly opened the door, and stepped out. The instant I did, the secretary spoke through the half-lowered window.
"I can more or less understand why you moved around so covertly… but Sihun, next time, I would appreciate it if you sent word ahead about where you were going. It seems the Chairman and the rest of the family's affection for our young lady runs a touch… excessive."
At the secretary's words, I gave a slight bow and answered with perfect courtesy.
"Yes, my apologies. I'll be careful going forward."
Of course, even as I answered politely, a strange dissonance lingered that I couldn't quite shake off.
Hold on. I had zero—not even a millimeter—of intention to go anywhere with Jeong Hye-in again…
Why was she already talking as if our next outing were a foregone conclusion? But it wasn't a question worth dwelling on, so I brushed it aside quickly.
At the same time, Jeong Hye-in poked her face slightly out through the open window. Whether she had no intention of returning the beret, or had simply forgotten she was still wearing it, she gave it a small wave—beret still planted dead center on her head.
"See you… at school tomorrow."
"Yeah. Get home safe."
I waved back with equal casualness, and that was our goodbye.