Seong Jinwoo's Desperate MEP Funding

MyGameNet's Starleague had collapsed, and the only place where Starleague continued was AsiaTV. AsiaTV Starleague. And perhaps because of that, retired StarCraft pro gamers began flooding into AsiaTV one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠after another. From around the mid-2010s, most gamers made their debut there in earnest. After MGN shut down, AsiaTV became the epicenter of StarCraft.

Seong Jinwoo wasn't a player known by name or face during his active days. MGN's Starleague had ended in 2012 anyway. And at that time, Seong Jinwoo was just a high school student. Sure, high schoolers back then often signed with teams and played professionally, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but Seong Jinwoo only gained recognition after AsiaTV.

'Actually... is it even fair to call him a pro?'

He'd heard Seong Jinwoo had lived in a team dorm. His face had appeared during MGN league broadcasts too. Just his face, though. Never his gameplay. It was like a fleeting glimpse of his face passing by. If he'd been mixed in with the other players back then, could you call him a pro? Or not?

'Whatever, not my business.'

Shin Jaewoo hadn't discovered him through StarCraft anyway. What he'd seen was We Got Married. A content copying the name of that MBC show, where male and female BJ streamers did joint broadcasts pretending to date. Sometimes, couples from those actually started dating for real.

Anyway, that's how he'd first encountered Seong Jinwoo—through We Got Married.

'I really liked you back then, Jinwoo oppa.'

Seong Jinwoo. And Jina. He fondly remembered watching their We Got Married episodes. Of course, Seong Jinwoo and Jina weren't a couple now. They were just ex-We Got Married partners—worse than strangers, in a way.

Anyway, that's how he'd come across Seong Jinwoo. And now, that very Seong Jinwoo was groveling to his viewers.

"Aigoo, hyungnims. We've got 50 pledges right now, 50. At this rate, I'm getting booted from MEP. Hyungnims, just a little more each, please? Eh?"

On screen, Seong Jinwoo had Notepad open, begging. The Notepad listed a nickname.

By the way, the "MEP" he mentioned was MEP, the Major Pro League. On AsiaTV, it was a team battle led by the god-tier StarCraft players. The rule was pairing balanced players via roulette to pick teammates one by one. And they gathered funding like this. Back when Shin Jaewoo occasionally watched, it was 4v4, but now it was 5v5.

"Hyungnims, just a little each, zero, cha, zero, cha. Why's no one coming through?"

A snicker escaped at Seong Jinwoo's frustrated outburst.

"No, college is college, and viewers are viewers anyway—hyungnims, help a brother out."

That's when it happened. Shin Jaewoo locked eyes with Seong Jinwoo. Not literally, of course. But it felt like Seong Jinwoo's gaze had zeroed in on him in the viewer list.

And Shin Jaewoo's intuition was spot on.

"Jaewoos! My buddy Jaewoos, come on in. Bro, it's been forever."

The response felt burdensome. All he could type was three dots.

"Don't be like that, Woos. First time in ages—can't you help with one funding pledge? Ah, of course not. Sigh. What now?"

Even as he called out, Seong Jinwoo moved on, perhaps dismissing him as a dried squid. His face grew heavy with worry.

'Did he really need to go to college?'

The other MEP members had mostly gone to college. And this MEP funding was a matter of college pride too. Leaders or fans from colleges would sometimes drop star balloons. Especially lately—leaders had cash flow from running Excel crews alongside StarCraft college streams.

"Please, just one pledge each, hyungnims."

He pleaded desperately. Even so, begging like this drew some star balloons, dried squid or not.

"Aigoo, KimchiSoup hyungnim with 50 pledge. Truly thankful, hyungnim. Small? To me, it's huge. Now 100 pledge... Haa."

"Hyungnims, for MEP, let's hit at least 1,000 pledge. Please."

Listening to Seong Jinwoo tugged at Shin Jaewoo's heart a bit.

'He remembers me, at least.'

More than that, the warm welcome stuck with him. It'd only been once or twice. Back then, during funding like this, he'd tossed some star balloons. Not big money—30,000 won or 50,000 won. Pocket change now, but huge back then.

'This time...'

Interest alone on his accounts brought in hundreds of millions daily. No need to spend more. With that thought, Shin Jaewoo decided.

He clicked [Recharge]. 1,000 star balloons. 110,000 won including fees.

'Purchase.'

He toyed with the amount a bit. Then finalized.

"Huh? Aigoo, my buddy Jaewoos!"

Perhaps the 1,000 popping off startled him.

Seong Jinwoo shot up from his seat, reacting dramatically. Seeing that made the money feel well-spent. The chat treated it like a whale had arrived.

"In this drought, friends are the best. Naidak. So... 200 more pledge."

His name topped the list. But surprisingly low.

'Fired 1,000 and only 200 pledge?'

That was the yield from 1,000.

"Haa. What now? Need 1,000 pledge..."

Hearing his mutter, Shin Jaewoo was recharging again. Bigger this time.

"Huh?"

"No way, Jaewoos. This big... Wow. Thanks to you, I can save face. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Real friend... no, hyungnim. I'll serve you as hyungnim for life. Call me anytime you need anything."

The Notepad updated again.

"Truly, Jaewoos hyungnim, so grateful. Thanks to you..."

Mid-sentence, he fake-cried, covering his eyes.

1,300. Enough to save face, as he'd said. Still uneasy, though.

"If no more comes, I'm room-maker... Hyungnims, Jaewoos hyung helped this much—add a little more?"

Seong Jinwoo begged again. But the dam had broken.

"Aigoo, Wave hyungniiiim!"

"Truly, so so grateful. Haa. Can I escape room-maker like this?"

Seong Jinwoo's anxious face as he spoke. "Room-maker" meant funding last place—the loser builds the match room.

"Hyungnims, anything but room-maker."

He appealed through gritted teeth. Shin Jaewoo watched, then looked away.

"Ah, can you hear me? Everyone got their funding?"

A new voice cut in. From Discord—another gamer.

"Yes."

"Loud and clear."

"Then come to my room, and report your totals."

The speaker was Kim Inseong, another ex-pro.

"First, Kwon Haengju-ssi, General-nim."

Kwon Haengju (or General-nim, Kwon Haengju's nickname), Seong Jinwoo, Kim ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Jin-gyu, Kim Inseong, Lee Ji-han, Jo Su-hyeok, Lee Min-gi, Choi Tae-hong, Jeong Seung-woo, Go Seong-min.

"1700 for me."

"Kim Jin-gyu, 1500."

"Lee Min-gi, 900..."

"Eh?"

The moment "900" hit, Kim Inseong changed tone, pulling a mock roast.

Things sorted out. Seong Jinwoo sighed in relief.

"At least not last. Jaewoos, truly thanks."

Hyung, then back to friend. Didn't feel bad. Instead, another feeling stirred.

"...Before, I'd have trembled spending a few hundred thousand."

Not now. The sensation was different. A few hundred thousand was...

'Doesn't even register.'

No impact on his balance. And Seong Jinwoo, relieved at avoiding last thanks to him. But as the fight dragged below...

At the start, sure. But after 1 minute countdown, Lee Min-gi clawed back.

"Now Lee Min-gi climbs, so Seong Jinwoo-ssi, you're it."

"Eh?"

Couldn't escape last.

"30 seconds. No pledges in time, you're room-maker winner. Over 1,000, so no butt-writing penalty."

Kim Inseong set the timer on screen. Desperation hit Seong Jinwoo too.