Time of Choice (4)
“Jimin, what on earth is this…?”
“Haha.”
Park Jimin scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
A woman in her forties who should have been enjoying a quiet weekend instead found herself facing not her son and the lovely girl he was close with, but two strapping grown men.
“At least have some coffee.”
“Oh, no, we’re fine, really.”
“Sorry—we have somewhere else to be soon.”
Jang Yaohwan spoke with impeccable manners to Jimin’s mother, Kim Eunhye.
“Mom, I told you last time.”
“…”
“That I got an offer to go pro.”
“Ah.”
To Jimin, his mother’s expression was hard to read—surprise, indifference, or something in between.
“…”
Sorry for the late introduction. I’m Jang Yaohwan, head coach of the pro team P1. This friend here has just been appointed as a coach as well.
Recalling the words from earlier, Eunhye began examining the business card Yaohwan had given her.
“If you give your blessing, Jimin can join the most famous pro gaming organization in the world. He’ll start with the Academy—a team that develops the organization’s young players—but it’s still a professional side that can compete on the second-tier stage.”
“I see.”
“P1 Academy has the best facilities and welfare of any team. Full nutritional management for the players, and we spare no expense on support in every area.”
“…But why our son?”
Eunhye asked, clearly puzzled.
“Hahaha.”
Yaohwan laughed with easy confidence.
“Ma’am, how familiar are you with the game Summoners of Legends?”
“A little…”
“A little—heh. Then do you know the player Maker?”
“…Ah, yes, I know him.”
Sensing that they could finally communicate, Yaohwan smiled broadly.
“…”
I remember now.
Jimin blinked, casting his mind back.
It must have been elementary school.
Wow, how does someone make that much money just from being good at a game? Amazing, right, Jimin?
Yeah.
In Jimin’s memories, days when his mother smiled were rare—but that day she had looked genuinely happy for some reason.
“Ma’am, the team Maker stayed with from beginning to end was none other than P1. And Jimin…”
Yaohwan looked at Jimin and smiled.
“…possesses talent equal to Maker’s. No—he might even surpass him.”
“R-really?”
“Absolutely.”
The words of the man who had become head coach of Maker’s former team, P1.
If just anyone had claimed her son was as great as the man called the president of the gaming world, she would have laughed it off. But coming from Yaohwan, it was different.
The conversation stretched on.
How much prestige the pro gamer profession now carried, how massive Summoners of Legends had become, what Jimin stood to gain—Yaohwan poured his heart into every word.
“…”
Throughout the talk, Eunhye kept glancing at her son.
“I’d love to say more, but time—hahaha.”
“No, no, I’ve heard enough. Thank you.”
Eunhye remained polite even to Yaohwan, who was more than ten years her junior.
“We’ll take our leave. Jimin, I’ll be in touch.”
“Please don’t mention it on stream yet.”
“Yes, sir.”
Yaohwan and Hochang maintained perfect courtesy right until they stepped out the door.
“Haa…”
Mother and son left alone.
Of course there was a great deal to say.
“So that’s how it is.”
Jimin told his mother.
There was no hesitation on his face.
“Jimin, Mom…”
When she began to speak, Jimin sat up straight.
“I’ve been really happy watching you since you started streaming.”
“Yeah…”
Things she had never said before.
“You look like you’re having fun, always so lively and working hard, and lately you seem to be getting along so well with your friends—and with Dahye.”
“Yeah, I am.”
Jimin forced a smile.
“But I was… pretty shocked. Last time you suddenly brought up going pro, and now you’ve even brought people over to persuade me.”
“Sorry.”
“No. But our son is pretty amazing, huh?”
“Huh?”
Eunhye let out a strange little laugh.
“You said you got offers from a lot of other places too.”
“Yeah.”
Not only P1 and Bonsim, but many pro teams had reached out.
Maehwa Life Esports. Gen.G Esports. C-Plus Dia. ST All-Star, and more.
There had even been Chinese teams.
“…”
Gen.G Esports in particular had made an excellent offer.
Of every team, they had been the most sincere about why they needed Jimin, even sharing concrete plans for the roster.
But.
When everything was weighed together, his heart kept leaning toward P1.
The team that had first made him fall in love with the pro scene.
The team his friends adored.
In truth, he had already more or less made up his mind.
“Jimin.”
“Yeah.”
“Do your friends know?”
“I’ll tell them soon.”
“What about Dahye?”
“Soon…”
Jimin’s voice lacked conviction.
“So why do you want to go to that team?”
“Ah.”
A question he hadn’t expected his mother to ask.
Well…
There were many reasons.
And one of them was this:
Jimin, just choose a place that recognizes you, acknowledges you, and actually helps you. Only meet people like that too.
“…”
Maybe he was even more grateful because they had come bearing the name of P1.
But deep down, Jimin was simply thankful that they had gone to this much trouble for him.
The clever, detail-oriented approach of a team like Gen.G was impressive—but these people had come in person, on foot.
“Because it feels like they really believe in me.”
“…Is that so?”
Huh?
His mother smiled.
“Then I can rest easy.”
“Mom.”
“You’ll have to live in the dorms, right?”
“Yeah. And I’ll be getting paid.”
“Jimin’s going to be rich in no time.”
“…”
I’m going to get a lot richer than that.
Jimin intended to earn enough that his mother would never have to worry about money for the rest of her life.
“Did you talk it over properly?”
“Yes. Mom gave her permission.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Thank you.”
“What are you thanking me for?”
Jimin called Yaohwan that very evening.
How many times was he going to say thank you? But as long as he had permission, he wanted to say it even more.
“Jimin, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t recall ever getting a proper answer from you.”
“W-what do you mean?”
“You never actually said, cleanly and coolly, that you’re coming to P1.”
“…”
Did I not?
Looking back, it had been more like he had just gone along with the people who had come charging at him.
“It’s a contract, Jimin. A contract. And you’ll also need to send careful, sincere rejection replies to all the other teams that were kind enough to offer you a place.”
“…”
As an adult, Yaohwan was making sure Jimin felt the weight of the choice.
“Jimin, do you know this?”
“Yes?”
“One of the members of P1’s Worlds three-peat said something once.”
“…”
Gulp.
Jimin felt a strange tremor run through him.
“If you’re the best player, you have to play for P1. That’s what he said.”
“Whoa.”
That’s cool.
It was a line that carried both a pro player’s confidence and respect for P1.
“You can become the best. That’s why I came to you. Hochang’s probably known it for a long time already.”
“Yes.”
Jimin paused for a beat.
“Hyung—no, Coach. I want to go to P1.”
“Hahahaha! That’s what I wanted to hear!”
A booming laugh rang out over the phone.
P1’s player acquisitions announced their revival.
Keeping only their core and the league’s representative jungler Oz, they brought in Blur, who had played for Bonsim Magicforce last year; Luca, who had played for Sensekai in Japan; Spoon, who had played for Far East Prince; and Durandal, who had played for Chinese team GGG.
In particular, the return of ‘Durandal’ Park Sangjin—an Academy graduate who had never made the first team, crossed to China, and become a league-defining support—was met with a very warm welcome from the fans.
The fact that they had finally signed a world-class mid laner for the first time since Maker was another point that sent fans into a frenzy.
Some fans felt uneasy that Blur and Spoon, who had received decent evaluations, had been on bottom-tier teams, but overall the mood was one of satisfaction.
“Nuna!”
“This kid, seriously.”
Yu Dahye had been smiling and waving as she walked over, but the moment she spotted Jimin she started scolding him.
Even after they entered the café and sat down, the scolding look in her eyes never faded.
“…”
Casual clothes.
He had suddenly said he had something important to tell her and called her out in a rush, so it couldn’t be helped.
Still, to Jimin’s eyes she was far too lovely.
“‘The café closest to your house,’ he says. You really know how to make things interesting.”
“Haha.”
Jimin laughed awkwardly.
Even so, with it getting darker, he had wanted Dahye not to go too far from home if possible.
“So what did you want to say?”
“…”
Everything was already decided.
“I signed a contract today.”
“A contract?”
“Yeah. I’m joining P1 Academy as a player.”
“What?”
Dahye’s eyes widened.
“All of a sudden?”
“It’s not sudden. They’ve been contacting me for a while.”
“So it was P1 after all.”
“Yeah.”
“No wonder you kept wanting to watch P1 Academy matches.”
“Exactly.”
Jimin continued as calmly as he could.
I’m so nervous.
In truth his heart felt ready to explode.
Because he still wasn’t sure if this was the right path.
“Congratulations.”
“…Huh?”
“You wanted to go pro. With you, Jimin, you’ll make first team in no time.”
“Thanks.”
Dahye smiled as she spoke.
Dahye nuna.
Jimin had thought countless things. He had filled his heart with so many words, then thrown them all away.
“Nuna, that is…”
“Hm?”
Jimin hesitated for a long time before opening his mouth.
“It’s just…”
“Yeah?”
What was he trying to say this time?
As always, Dahye smiled and prepared to listen.
“…”
Nuna, I like you. For real.
Just wait for me until I turn twenty.
If you promise me that, I can practice twenty hours a day. I’ll succeed and take such good care of you and protect you.
Words he had carefully treasured in his head for days, only to discard them again and again.
Of course they did not make it out this time either.
“Never mind, haha.”
“Huh?”
Dahye made a baffled face.
“Once I start Academy life we won’t be able to see each other as often. But it’s just because I really, really want to work hard, so don’t get the wrong idea.”
“Wrong idea? You’re a pro now—of course you have to work hard for real.”
“Yeah.”
Going to the Academy wasn’t like joining the military, and it wasn’t as if they wouldn’t be able to contact each other.
But it frustrated him that during this period of waiting, he couldn’t have any real influence on her life.
“When I make first team I’ll buy you something delicious.”
“Got it. I’ll make a list. Ranked by most expensive in the country.”
“Yeah.”
“What are you saying? I’m kidding. Nuna will be the one treating you.”
At Dahye’s words, Jimin let out a soft laugh.
“…”
Ever since he was little, Jimin had always been this way.
The things boys wanted, the things they coveted.
At an age when crying and begging his mother would have been forgiven.
But Jimin never did that.
Because he understood it would only add to his mother’s pain, he always held back and endured.
The personality that had become second nature—the part some people praised as calm—had been cultivated since childhood.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Jimin, who had been silently looking at Dahye’s face, smiled and shook his head.
This time he really did want it.
But he knew full well that the timing was wrong, that it would be nothing more than a child’s tantrum.
Life does not offer the monkey and the chestnuts.
Just because he hadn’t done it at eight did not mean he was allowed to do it at eighteen.
This is the last time.
This was the final patience.
Whether he would one day regret this choice or be glad of it, he did not know.
But there is no adventure without risk. And if the adventure is worth it, all the more so.
Jimin made a vow.
From tomorrow on, he would stake everything on the things he wanted.
Most of it might not go the way he hoped, but he would pass the baton to his twenty-year-old self.
Until then he would give it everything he had, and he would entrust her—the person he wanted most—to that future self.
[That’s how it went haha.]
Viewers: 3,559
“Surprised, right?”
Jimin said as he turned on his stream for the last time before a long hiatus.
The signing announcement had been made quickly.
Normally you entered through tests, but they said the process wasn’t necessary.
Apparently the persuasion had been completed long ago.
Tomorrow he would pack his things and move into the dorms.
“Thank you for the 1,000-won donation. No, everyone.”
Jimin laughed awkwardly.
“…”
So many.
Countless viewers.
News that a streamer who started on Jijik had joined the most popular team had drawn in a huge number of SOL stream viewers.
“Thank you all so much for everything until now.”
Jimin wanted to turn on the camera and bow, but he was still a little too shy for that.
“…”
No.
He almost hesitated for a second.
But the path he had to take was already set, so he would say only what he had planned and leave.
He was too embarrassed to say the rest.
That his pro nickname was for the viewers who had helped him nurture the dream of going pro until now.
That even people who had only watched his stream for a moment would someday be able to turn around and recognize him.
“I will definitely come back. Please take care of me then.”
The day he would stream again with P1 streamer credentials.
For that day, today and tomorrow had to shine.