A Pro Offer
Dude was grinning ear to ear clearing minions with Irel Q, already planning the ult, and she just Blinks it on reaction and he looks completely lost lmao
And she didn't even dodge backward — she Blinked behind him and cut off the escape route lmao
Honestly I used to think stomping elementary schoolers that hard was overkill, but watching this I felt so damn vindicated
He called Irel first and she could've just locked Malph or Sett, but she slammed Jaxson anyway lmao
Looked like she was losing lane for a second, then quietly farmed up and made Irel the desperate one << fundamentals are filthy
Ult reaction is whatever, high-elo kids all do that, moving on
Just full-sends a forward Blink, forces the all-in, and dives her << absolute unit fr
There was another girl next to Noel and he asked "is that your girlfriend?" and the vibe died instantly lmao
No bias on tier, no bias on gender, just a guy with zero prejudice lmao
Didn't baby her for being a girl either. One Poro doll and goodbye lmao
"You've got potential."
He's offering Noel a shot at going pro if she hits Grandmaster.
"A pro…… gamer."
I was dazed.
Not once in my life had I ever thought something like that could be possible. I never imagined a sitting pro team coach would walk up and make me an offer.
When I hesitated, the coach repeated the proposal in a gentle tone.
"Of course, making a fuss over one win against Jinseok might be a little much. But I'm aware you're a hot name in the community these days. So I was thinking — once you hit Grandmaster, how about coming in for a test? You're only a few points away. Just thirty more and you're there."
It wasn't empty courtesy, either. Handing me his business card and telling me to call once I hit Grandmaster meant he genuinely saw something in me.
"Wow. Noel's that good? Nice — why not give it a shot while you're at it? You've been playing a ton of LoC lately anyway."
Beside me, Gabi — still beaming over the fluffy Poro doll she'd just received — was cheering me on too.
But unlike the pure bewilderment of a moment ago, that encouragement actually helped me come back down to earth.
Being a pro gamer might, in its own way, be a good fit for my situation. Missing a leg, missing an eye — none of it mattered, so long as both hands still worked. Of course, having only one eye was a real constraint on vision…… but if someone else watched the minimap for me, that would make things a lot easier. I was already playing the game nonstop anyway. Becoming a pro wouldn't change much about my day-to-day.
But that was only a good story for me.
Did these people actually need me?
Sure, I'd landed the kill secure and won the 1v1. But would that kind of play even work in a pro league?
I didn't think so.
The pro I'd just fought was Challenger-tier, yes — but compared to the monsters I'd faced before, the gap felt like dinosaurs versus tigers. I did think he was a finely honed player. But top wasn't his primary lane. I'd only been able to take him down because it was an Irelia built to fight mages. If it had been an Irelia who'd shouldered up against bruisers and brawlers in the top lane and climbed the weight class that way — the way I'd felt against other top-lane pros — I would have been gasping for air the entire laning phase.
Could I even fill a role against players like that? That was the real question. Of course, I'd only know by trying again. Flipping it around, though — it was strange that the coach would make me an offer so readily when none of that had been proven yet.
I gathered my thoughts again, and after watching the player prepare for the next event match for a moment, I could roughly guess what the coach was thinking.
It was probably just about the buzz.
They'd signed that player because he was good, sure. But the reason they had him alone take on every single participant at a department-store event, instead of rotating other players in, was simple: it drew eyes. When someone handsome and pretty stands there doing that, anyone's gaze lingers a second longer. And the reason they were running this event in a department store instead of renting a proper venue was clearly to pitch themselves to people who didn't even play the game — whether that meant promoting League of Champions or promoting their own pro team. And the face that fit that bill had been the player I'd just faced.
Well, maybe I was wrong. But League of Champions was a five-player game. A pro team would have at least five people, and they could all come out and run event matches with fans. Was there any real need to dump all that fatigue on one person? One or two might sit out for personal reasons, sure — but using only one person pointed to exactly that kind of calculation.
Not that it was a bad thing. Even women just passing by turned to look at the player at least once. All of that could become a potential fanbase.
Once I realized that, I could roughly guess why the coach wanted to recruit me, too.
Even if female players were slowly starting to appear in pro matches, the ratio was still low. And if a disabled player missing a foot joined the roster, the headlines alone were guaranteed. If all they wanted was that kind of fame, it wouldn't be a bad offer for me either. Just show my face a few times as the mascot, the way the player running event matches right now was doing, and collect a paycheck.
Of course, they might actually field me in the pro league. But the pros I'd seen were on a level I simply couldn't stand shoulder to shoulder with. Even today's 1v1 only went the way it did because the other side took it lightly. If he'd played the way he did in solo queue, there was no telling how the game would have gone. So the odds of me ending up a benchwarmer were high.
And since there probably wasn't anywhere else willing to use someone in a body like mine anyway, it was something I should welcome, in a way. But still — it stung my pride.
Not that I could dump venom on a coach who'd made a good offer in good faith.
While I sat there stuck in that conflict, the coach smiled and held out a Teemo hat.
"I'm not asking for an answer right this second. If you feel like it later, I'd love for you to get in touch. Of course, our team hasn't made it to the main stage yet…… but if you grow together with the roster we've got now, who's to say we won't make a LoC World Cup someday?"
"Yes. Thank you."
Well. Fair enough. Getting ahead of myself like that was counting chickens before they hatched, in a way. Easy to say "just thirty more points" — but a win was fifteen, a loss dropped twenty. Two wins in a row sounded simple enough, but one bad streak of team luck and the LP could freefall. First things first: hit Grandmaster, then think about it.
So I accepted the Teemo hat politely. Maybe it was just habit — always taking things from adults with both hands — but my elbow knocked the shopping bag I'd set on my thighs.
The bag dropped straight under the wheelchair.
"Ah—"
I'd clearly folded the opening shut. Apparently that wasn't enough to keep its contents sealed.
A cascade of pitch-black underwear spilled free of the shopping bag and scattered softly across the floor.