Cha Yuna, the Double-Edged Sword
Cha Yuna.
This girl was a player who was tough to handle in every way imaginable.
Even as a pro, I'd only heard about types like her from players on other teams—I'd never dealt with one firsthand.
Before my regression, I was 28, but on the surface now, I was only a year older than her, which made it awkward to treat her as casually as the others.
She was still younger than me, but dealing with 17- or 18-year-old high schoolers was worlds apart from handling a 20-year-old adult.
And then there was Yuna's fiery personality adding fuel to the fire.
Position-wise, I was the coach and she was the player, so she never tried to talk back to me on equal footing. But her strong personality and sky-high pride made her resistant to my feedback.
Unlike Seona—no, even more than her—she was stubbornly set in her ways. It took as long to convince Yuna of one thing as it did to get the others to implement three changes.
Every time, I'd have to crush her with my own skills, showing her physically whose advice was right, before she'd grudgingly accept it.
And on top of that, her competitive drive burned so fiercely it was practically an inferno.
Yuna took even bot lane practice games losses hypersensitively, exploding in rage whenever they happened.
Every player on the team had clashed with her at least once during strategy discussions.
And if the loss was someone else's fault? You'd feel her full wrath head-on.
If only she'd been the hypocritical type—strict with others, lenient with herself—I could've just cut her loose without a second thought. But Yuna wasn't like that.
When the loss was her fault, she'd self-flagellate even harder, getting so hypersensitive that I worried she'd wreck her body. She'd push herself mercilessly.
Even when she needed rest, she'd say, "I lost because of me—I can't possibly rest," and dive into endless loops of practice and workouts. Even when her muscles screamed and her limbs barely moved, she'd drag herself back out.
No matter what I said, she wouldn't listen on this front.
In short: strict with others, even stricter with herself.
Normally, such reckless players wouldn't last on a team if their skills were even slightly subpar, but Yuna was exceptional there too. That made it hard to figure out what to do. Plus, since I'd scouted her myself, I wanted to coach her properly.
Her map awareness outshone even Captain Ha-young's, and her initiation angles left me gasping in admiration by my standards. She could hold her own against 3rd Division men's offlaners.
Like this, Yuna was a priceless treasure the team couldn't do without—a double-edged sword that could explode at any moment.
At least in practice games, I could manage her outbursts somehow. But now, in a real match where victory hung in the balance, her personality erupted again.
"Kim Seona! If you fuck up and feed solo kills one more time, you're dead by my hand after the game!"
"Lee Ha-young! Isn't it your job as order-giver to stop Seona's bullshit!? Instead of freezing for jungle stacks, what the hell are you doing? You left all the jungle vision to Eunjae and you're just babysitting Sera's ass! Look at the map!"
"Kim Eunjae, you too! If Ha-young's out of it, remind her to ward jungle, then go roam or something! What are you doing just patrolling jungle? You're leveled up but doing jack shit!"
"Shin Sera! I told you earlier in that 3v3 mid, my portal was on cooldown so I couldn't join! If you'd set up that pushing wave, you should've shoved it in and come help! We could've turned that teamfight if you'd shown up! Being a carry doesn't mean you plant yourself in lane eating CS till we lose!"
Finally exploding after holding it in, Yuna pointed out everyone's mistakes, raising her voice.
I agreed with her assessment. Yuna's portal was on cooldown, so she couldn't join, but if Sera had pushed that wave and rotated in, even if a few of ours died, she could've tripled up in my estimation.
Of course, I wouldn't have phrased it that harshly.
"...Sorry."
"Unnie, sorry. I'll get my head in the game, don't be mad, okay?"
"Got it. I'll roam more."
"...Fuck, fuck, fuck..."
Seona, who'd gotten the harshest tongue-lashing, muttered curses under her breath so quietly no one else heard—words she rarely used. The team missed it, but as the spectating coach, I caught every one.
Hurt by the outburst, Seona's play visibly shrank, and ironically, she stopped feeding solo kills after that.
Meanwhile, on BlueLight.
"She's suddenly playing safe? Did her brain finally come back from running away?"
"Nah, kills are kills, but whatever. We're super ahead anyway—let's just roll with it."
"Time to prep for Roshan. Push lanes one wave each, group up, and ward around it."
BlueLight players, seeing Kim Seona stop feeding, started shoving lanes to take the major objective Roshan.
Ha-young and Yuna were the first to notice.
"Hey, they're shoving all three lanes."
"They're going Roshan. W-what do we do...?"
"Hey! You're the captain—give the order! What am I supposed to do, sit here panicking!?"
"U-unnie, just take over this once..."
"Hah, fuck this is insane. Listen, if we don't go all-in now, we're done. Abandon lanes—group at Roshan pit right now. We're aiming for a teamfight reversal in one shot."
With Ha-young still frozen by tension and passing the call, Yuna issued orders immediately. Soon, all 10 players converged near the Roshan pit.
"Jaeyeon-ah, they're clearing vision. They're coming this way soon."
"It's fine. They're item-deficient—they can't start a fight recklessly. We back off a bit, bait them into our setup, and smash."
At that moment, Yuna on the hill and Choi Jaeyeon by the river locked eyes briefly.
"There, on the hill. Now pretend to give space and lure them... Gah!!!"
"Hi?"
Choi Jaeyeon couldn't even finish before sucking in a breath.
In less than a second after eye contact, the enemy offlaner Cha Yuna had blinked right into their formation using Escape Dagger's teleport.
The two, dozens of meters apart, were now nose-to-nose.
The problem? Yuna's champion was Wave Sorcerer, with its massive stun ultimate Seawater Eruption.
"Haaah!"
"No!"
Yuna slammed her massive anchor, raised high, into the ground with ferocious force. Cracks spiderwebbed the earth as violent seawater erupted, launching all five BlueLight players skyward.
Before BlueLight could scatter, Yuna's lightning-fast initiation hit their clustered team—straight into Wave Sorcerer's ult.
Yuna immediately wrapped the anchor's chain around her arm. Wave Sorcerer's active skill, Anchor Swing—a tanky AoE with mediocre damage normally, but Yuna had maxed it to master level via specialization. Wider range, harder hits.
She spun the giant anchor like a giant swing in place, yelling,
"Lee Ha-young!"
"Got it!"
Ha-young's Holy Knight healed Yuna mid-spin.
Holy Knight's heal damaged nearby enemies for the same amount. Instant massive burst nuked BlueLight.
The stun ended, but their HP was already teamfight-unviable.
Sera's Hollow Spirit and Eunjae's Moon Priestess AoEs followed, shredding the remnants. Seona and Sera cleaned up the kills.
The teamfight, sparked by that glance, ended in under five seconds.
Shining Star's 5-0 wipe.
Nice!
I clenched my fist, cheering the victory inwardly.
A 5-0 at Roshan pit meant a free Roshan. We took it, flipping the gold lead in one go.
We gave the dropped Shield of Rebirth—crucial for late-game Sera—and kept pushing.
BlueLight, who'd been ahead until that reversal, panicked and hid in their base.
"J-Jaeyeon-ah. We're actually gonna lose."
"It's okay! Don't worry! When they push for third tower, we've got hill vision advantage. Eat them then."
As predicted, Shining Star marched on top third tower. BlueLight, spotting from the hill, formed up to fight.
"Ready up. One more step and... Hngh!"
"Hi?"
Again, Yuna blinked ahead with Escape Dagger.
The Roshan pit scene repeated. BlueLight aced in their base. Shortest respawn: 30 seconds. Game over.
"That's what you get for hesitating and second-guessing."
Yuna slammed her anchor into their nexus, sealing the win.
Shining Star's official debut set: victory.
Shining Star 1 : 0 BlueLight.