A Time for Choices (1)
“Oh my, Dahye, you look absolutely gorgeous today.”
“Thank you!”
“·····”
Ugh.
Park Jimin dipped his head a little and pushed another bite of food into his mouth.
He had brought his mother and Yu Dahye to a private room at a Chinese restaurant. The place was run by a chef who had appeared on that cooking show Blue and White Chefs a few months back, so it felt like a proper treat. Online posts had said it was perfect for bringing parents who loved Chinese food, and Jimin was satisfied with the choice.
“You’d look good in anything, really.”
“Oh, stop. You’re too kind.”
“·····”
Jimin himself was quite fond of Chinese food. He couldn’t honestly say the modest portion of sweet-and-sour pork was any different from the place near home, but still. The reason his mood felt slightly off, despite favorite food and favorite people, was simple.
She’s not saying anything.
He had fully expected his mother to comment that Dahye’s outfit looked a bit short today.
“·····”
Jimin stole a sidelong glance at Dahye. Of course she was beautiful.
Pathetic.
He absolutely could not let Dahye catch him having these gloomy thoughts. Who was he to keep fretting over her clothes?
“So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”
“Huh?”
Dessert had arrived; the meal was essentially over. Dahye was the first to ask Jimin about the real reason for today.
“·····”
He had already made up his mind, yet the moment he tried to speak, his heart hammered.
“Mom, Dahye nuna… I·····”
Jimin hesitated, then opened his mouth.
“I got an offer to go pro.”
“What?”
“·····”
“Haha.”
Jimin looked away, embarrassed. His mother reacted with pure shock, as expected. Dahye, though… nodded more calmly than he had anticipated.
“Pro gamer, all of a sudden?”
“Yeah.”
“The kind who goes on TV and plays games, right?”
“Ah.”
“You’ve only just started streaming.”
“That’s just how it turned out.”
“Jimin.”
“·····”
Unless a situation absolutely demanded overturning the status quo, change always rattled people. Especially when it was unexpected, sudden, and involved the child you had raised yourself.
“From where?”
Dahye, who had been quietly watching Jimin’s mother, spoke up.
“A few places.”
“Which one did you decide on?”
“I’ve got one in mind, but I haven’t answered yet. I can’t say which just yet.”
“Is there a reason to keep it secret?”
“They asked me to keep it under wraps for a while. Don’t worry, though—I’ll tell you which team before I accept.”
“When will we know?”
“A little after Worlds ends.”
“That’s a while.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah.”
Dahye scrunched her face as if something about it didn’t sit right.
“Sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier.”
“Sorry for what?”
“·····”
Probably.
Telling his mother and Dahye wouldn’t actually cause any problems. Neither of them would go around spreading the name P1, or the news that Jang Yaohwan and Song Hochang were joining the coaching staff. But this was Jimin’s own sense of courtesy—gratitude toward the people who had approached him despite the risk of a leak, and thanks for being the first to show him the name of a team that personally intrigued him. Enduring the worried faces of his mother and Dahye was, for Jimin, an extreme expression of trust.
“Setting that aside—if you go pro, do you jump straight to the first team?”
“They said I’d probably spend about a year in the second team.”
“Huum·····”
Huh?
Jimin saw it clearly: Dahye started to say something, then glanced at his mother and stopped.
“Maybe think on it a little more? From what I’m hearing, you haven’t given an answer yet.”
“Yeah, I haven’t said yes.”
“But your heart’s already decided.”
“·····A little?”
At her son’s words, Kim Eunhye let out a small sigh.
“If you make it as a pro, you can earn way more than you do now.”
“Don’t make everything about money.”
“·····”
“Jimin-ah, money only needs to be enough so you’re not uncomfortable. At your age, what you’re already making is incredible.”
“Yeah.”
That’s not·····
It wasn’t actually about the money. With streaming alone, if he worked harder, he was confident he could give his mother an easier life. Tripling his hours if needed wouldn’t even feel like work. But going pro was something else entirely—scary, yet thrilling.
Truth is.
Because he had to speak in front of his mother and Dahye, he couldn’t be completely honest. He was still wavering. More than a hundred times a day he asked himself if this was right. Jimin was living the happiest days of his life right now. And yet he was supposed to leave that behind for a gamble. In the morning he dreamed of going pro; by lunch he chose the present; by evening he imagined himself as a pro gamer again. Somehow, though, saying “I’m still deciding” to his mother felt like leaning on someone else for a choice that belonged only to him. Even in the middle of all this confusion, Jimin had resolved that he would choose his own life.
“Being a pro means there are tons of people who are insanely good, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I heard earlier that you’re already inside the top three hundred in the country, but Jimin-ah, it’s not easy. It’s no different from becoming a baseball player or a soccer player.”
“It’s similar.”
“It’ll be hard.”
“I know.”
Jimin answered his mother without the slightest hesitation—a side of him she had rarely seen before.
“Ma’am, Jimin isn’t just inside the top three hundred. He’s special even among them. He plays ridiculously well.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Even former pro streamers all say the same thing—Jimin is on another level.”
“·····”
Dahye, who had looked a little skeptical earlier, was now backing Jimin completely. About twenty minutes of largely circular conversation followed.
“Think about it a little more.”
“Yeah. I will.”
The conclusion wasn’t exactly progressive either.
“I’ll get going.”
“Ah·····”
“I had a wonderful time today.”
“Get home safe.”
By the time they finished paying and stepped outside, the night had turned completely black.
“·····”
Jimin hesitated. Their homes were in opposite directions. Unless he split himself in two, either his mother or Dahye would have to walk alone. He needed to choose fast—how? Common decency said he should go with his mother, yet today’s Dahye was far too hard to leave by herself.
“I’ll head out first.”
“Huh?”
Dahye beat him to it.
“Jimin-ah, walk her to the station and come back. Mom’ll wait right here.”
Then his mother spoke.
“Huh?”
“You really don’t have to.”
“She’s a girl—you should at least do that much. Go on.”
“Okay.”
Whether she knew his heart or not, his mother offered a compromise.
“See you next time!”
“Mm.”
His mother smiled at Dahye until the very end.
“·····”
“·····”
Smack—!
“Ah!”
Dahye suddenly slapped Jimin’s shoulder.
“Would it have killed you to tell me first?”
“I was going to say it when it was just the two of us.”
“Yah, if you’d told me first, nuna would’ve helped properly convince her.”
Huh?
What was she talking about all of a sudden?
“I’m fine with it.”
“What? Then why did you even invite me?”
“Ah·····”
So that’s how she saw it.
Dahye seemed to think he had brought her along to help with persuasion. And of course she didn’t know he was still agonizing over whether to turn pro at all.
“I had to tell nuna too.”
“Why me? I mean, telling me is fine, but dragging me out with your mom like this?”
“That’s·····”
Even while walking, Jimin carefully began to explain.
“I started streaming thanks to you, nuna. But if I go pro, they said I can’t stream while I’m in the second team.”
“Well, yeah—if you’re in the second team you’ll have to practice like crazy.”
“I might have to take a long break from streaming, so I felt like I had to tell you.”
“·····”
Dahye stopped walking.
“Don’t feel burdened. It’s not because of me—it’s because you’re good.”
“Nuna.”
“If you’re hesitating or second-guessing because of me, don’t. What am I, some loan shark?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then why?”
“I just felt bad.”
“Aigoo, you’re so soft-hearted. How are you going to survive as a pro?”
“Hehe.”
“If you go pro, no more hehe-laughing. Got it?”
“Yes!”
Dahye snorted a laugh and started toward the station again.
“Just checking—you’re not actually wavering on going pro because of nuna, right?”
“Really not, nuna.”
“Good. Then nuna’s really leaving?”
“Mm·····”
Dahye was getting farther away.
Sorry for lying.
Jimin let out a small, empty laugh. Did she know that the biggest reason he was struggling was her?
If it were only streaming, he was confident. There would be a hit if he failed as a pro and came back later—time would have passed—but he would grind like a madman and overcome it. His SOL skill wasn’t going anywhere. Thankfully, being a SOL pro didn’t involve taking a 160 km/h fastball to the head or having a knee twisted by a tackle. For his mother’s comfort, he would combine this heaven-given talent with human effort once more.
But.
Whenever he thought of Dahye, the confidence vanished. Honestly, he was terrified. Would he still have the same relationship with her a week from now, a month from now, a year from now? The worst part was that he had no real power over it. There was nothing concrete he could do, and the thin rope he was clinging to might snap at any moment.
I want to say it.
The urge hit him right then. I love you. I like you. If you’ll allow it, I want to be your boyfriend. So please wait for me. I’ll make you happy for the rest of your life. But if Dahye rejected him, he wasn’t sure he would have the strength to endure what came after. Hearing her say they should keep their distance, the way he had said it to Lee Eunhae today? Even imagining it was horrible.
“Haa·····”
Why, exactly.
The reason he could never speak the words he had hidden from the person who had stolen his heart. Before any other calculation, one fact was lodged deep in his chest. Wanting too much might anger the heavens, but just for a second he let himself whine.
Why am I eighteen and Dahye nuna twenty-one?
If only she had appeared as an eighteen-year-old like Lee Eunhae, or if he had only noticed her after he turned twenty·····
“Wait, for real?”
A Challenger Top Laner’s POV — Watching Worlds Together
Viewers: 1,014
The title felt a little cringe, but Jimin forced himself to hit go-live and spoke.
“That’s incredible.”
He had heard a bit from Jang Yaohwan and Song Hochang, and he had done some homework on the wiki, but to think AIG Gaming’s Hades was that legendary. Not just good right now—staying at the top for nearly ten straight years? Did that even make sense?
“·····”
Jimin decided to stay quiet since he had no idea what that meant.
“Please keep player comparisons and fights to a minimum.”
An unclear debate with different standards for everyone. At least Jimin knew he had to shut this down.
“Oh, it’s starting.”
Worlds Swiss Stage. Keep swapping opponents; three wins and you advance, three losses and you’re out—simple rules. The long road to the best-of-five tournament.
“It’s Worlds, all right. Nonstop massive matchups from day one!”
Jimin held his breath and watched. Because it wasn’t his usual content the viewer count was a little lower than normal, but he wasn’t the type to get discouraged by that.
“Defending Worlds champions, SPL’s AIG Gaming! Versus Korea SCK’s C-Plus Dia!”
“·····”
That team.
The very same C-Plus Dia that had knocked P1 out of the Worlds qualifiers and left his friends crushed.
No hard feelings, of course.
Right now they were simply a team representing Korea.
“Right here in Berlin! Which team will take the first win of Worlds Swiss Stage?!”
That’s so cool.
The players of AIG Gaming and C-Plus Dia walked out while the crowd clapped and roared. A match held in Europe, yet that popular.
“The opponent is clearly strong. But I hope C-Plus Dia just play their own game.”
As expected, the Korean casters were rooting for the SCK side. Jimin carefully watched the game as well.
Back then, for sure.
He had heard C-Plus Dia was a team with an extremely strong mid-bot. But·····
“Someone has to do something about that Aetrox!”
“Whoa.”
Early game AIG pulled ahead with razor-sharp setups. More than anything, AIG’s top laner Hades was completely dominating C-Plus’s top laner. C-Plus seemed to have wanted to lock the top lane with Sion, yet Hades’s Aetrox started cracking the map faster than expected.
“Kai’Sa already has her items?”
“Ah, this is looking pretty stifling for C-Plus.”
“·····”
No way.
Jimin had watched the previous P1 versus C-Plus Dia qualifier. The result had been 3–2 for C-Plus Dia. But throughout all five games P1 had been the ones being pushed back; only Oz’s super plays had exploded. Yet against that same C-Plus, AIG was showing a consistently superior game.
“Rakan initiates! Sandra’s enemy disengage!”
“Ah·····”
Jimin had still been rooting for the Korean team. But AIG Gaming simply looked like the stronger side. Not only Hades—plenty of their players were monsters.
“Don’t fight.”
Jimin decided to manage chat a little more strictly.
“C-Plus is going down!”
“Ahh, as expected of the defending champions?”
“This is nothing like regular-season AIG. This is the exact team we saw at Worlds last year.”
“GG!”
“It’s over.”
An SCK team that had fallen more listlessly than expected.
“·····”
The camera closed in on AIG’s Hades. The celebration that followed nearly flipped the stadium upside down.
So damn cool.
Hades alone handled the interview with a tall blonde European interviewer.
“I showed some disappointing form in summer and felt bad for the fans, but I’ll make sure we bring home the Worlds trophy.”
“·····”
Childish as it was, Jimin imagined it for a second—winning beautifully and stepping forward as the team’s representative for a confident interview.
“Today’s SPL versus SCK matchup. First clash goes to SPL, but I hope this next team can protect our pride.”
“Yes, they truly are a terrifying team.”
“I really hope the Korean team wins this one.”
Jimin spoke honestly.
“Thank you for the 1,000 won. Ah, so they’re that good, huh?”
Jimin said with a smile. He still hadn’t studied the SPL teams that thoroughly.
“SPL Summer champions! SPL’s first seed Hebei Gaming! And SCK’s second seed Gen.G Esports!”
“Yes, these two teams have finally met.”
“Fans must have been waiting a long time for this.”
“In 2027 he delivered Gen.G Gaming their first Worlds trophy under the Gen.G name—and now he faces them as an enemy.”
“·····”
He had heard it often enough. The twin pillars of current SCK—Maehwa Life Esports and Gen.G Esports. One of them, Gen.G, was now taking the stage. Deep down Jimin hoped Gen.G would win.
Dexter.
(Not just tops—together with Hebei’s ADC Dexter he was called one of the two best players in the world right now.)
The man closest to the title of best SOL player on earth. And one of those two was sitting on the enemy team. Jimin watched the match with calm focus.
“No way, already looking like this.”
“Varus’s items are a little weird.”
“And the other lanes aren’t looking great either.”
“·····”
Ten minutes in and Hebei Gaming was already dismantling the game.
“Whoa.”
A super play from Hebei’s jungler who had picked Scanner. Jimin couldn’t help the gasp of pure admiration.
“What even is this player Kaji?”
“How do you design ganks like that?”
At some point the viewers had started doing nothing but marveling at the Hebei players’ beautiful plays.
“AAAAAAH!”
“Aigoo.”
The piercing arrow from Hebei’s ADC on Varus punched straight through Gen.G’s mid laner.
“SPL’s superteam. China’s overwhelming overlords.”
“They’re living up to the name.”
“Ah·····”
“GG!”
Hebei Gaming closed the game in under twenty-six minutes with leads across every lane. The players walked over looking like it was nothing special. The camera mischievously lingered on Hebei’s ADC Dexter.
“Ah, yes, Dexter.”
No celebration—Dexter showing respect to his former team.
“·····”
Jimin had to ban quite a few viewers today.
Unfair.
It stung. He just wanted to root for the Korean teams a little, so why were all the monstrous players over in China?
But still… so cool.
Even so, envy welled up. World’s best top. World’s best ADC. The man called the best SOL player alive. What would it feel like to become someone referred to that way?
“GGG is going down!”
“As expected of Maehwa Life Esports! Refreshing performance.”
“Whoa.”
By coincidence, day one had three Korea-versus-China matchups. The first two had ended in painful Korean losses. But at the end, SCK’s first seed Maehwa Life took down the SPL team GGG.
Jimin’s fists clenched.
“·····”
I want in.
Looking at other streams, the official Worlds channels and the big streamers had tens of thousands of people watching together. To be noticed at a tournament that drew this much attention·····
“Hoo.”
Jimin’s heart was pounding so hard he doubted he would sleep that night.