Round 2 (1)

"Yes, yes, Manager. This is Kang Yuseong. Yeah, about those transfer requests from the other teams you mentioned the day before yesterday—could you cancel all of them for me? Yeah, yeah, I know, but these kids on my team aren't the ones I picked, right? I've turned them pro and promised to get them into Division 1, so I have to take responsibility. Yes, if you could let all the teams that contacted know, I'd appreciate it. Thank you."

I finished the call with Manager Kim and let out a deep breath.

With this, every transfer offer from teams that had reached out through our front office was rejected in one fell swoop.

There were no regrets.

If it had been up until yesterday, I might have felt a twinge of hesitation or regret, but after spending time with Sera and hearing her words, my mind felt strangely clear and organized.

Was it because I'd made the decision to stay on as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠coach myself, rather than relying on the constant nagging and pinging from that status window?

Playing as a pro guaranteed a future, but there was no such guarantee for success as a coach. Logically, becoming a player with a secure ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠path made more sense, but now, there was no lingering doubt.

'Please don't abandon me.'

Sera's words echoed in my head.

These girls were sticking with the team and practicing because they believed I'd lead them, so how could I just irresponsibly bail on them?

And having a pretty girl like Sera cling to me in tears... it stirred some strange sense of pleasure, for some reason. Did I have a side that enjoyed this?

I had just one day of vacation left. I'd thought about heading home, but with Round 2 looming, a coach like me had no time to rest.

I called my mom and told her I'd visit after the summer season ended, then saved replays of the other teams' Round 1 matches and quickly reviewed them one by one.

Our team was already at the top level among Academy League teams in terms of skill, but complacency was always the enemy.

From morning until noon, I reviewed replays diligently, noting key points, then took a short break. Right on cue, Sera rubbed her eyes and pushed open the practice room door.

"Good morning."

Sera yawned and greeted me in that half-casual, half-unclear tone. The sight felt oddly unfamiliar.

"Well, this is new. Sera, you actually greeting me first."

"I'm not that rude."

Sera smirked as she replied. Back in the day, she would've just stayed silent with a blank expression and headed straight to the capsules, but her attitude seemed to have shifted a bit.

"Something good happen?"

"You're not transferring."

"That's such a mood-lifter for you?"

"Yeah."

Well, if she felt that way, fine by me. No harm if the player took it positively, so I decided not to push it.

"But you woke up at your usual time? Vacation's still on today—you could've slept in."

The players' normal wake-up was noon. On vacation, they could do whatever, but Sera had come to the practice room at her regular time.

"I'm good. I wanna practice more. I want to get to Division 1."

"Ooh, great mindset. But don't complain later that I stole your vacation for training."

"I won't."

"Alright, then do whatever—solo queue, bot games, whatever you want. I'll watch if you need."

"Okay!"

Sera nodded with a soft smile at my words. She looked brighter than usual, almost like a normal girl her age.

After that, I spent the entire afternoon overseeing Sera's training, giving her one-on-one coaching. Sera, who was usually so quiet and unexpressive, seemed in high spirits—keeping a smile through the grueling ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sessions and even humming tunes.

Even after hours of intense one-on-one special training, when she emerged from the capsule drenched in sweat, she still looked full of energy.

"Huff... huff... Good work."

"That was great. You pick up what I teach fast. If you practice like this every day, you'd be perfect. Keep reminding yourself of what I showed you today."

"Don't worry. I won't forget... ever."

"Easier said than done. In real matches, it's hard to remember every little thing. So if your brain blanks, train your body to remember through repetition. Got it?"

"Yes."

"Good. The others should be back soon, so go wash up. Then let's grab dinner."

"Okay!"

After dinner, the others trickled back in one by one, and the practice room regained its usual lively buzz.

"Sera, you got some good news or something? You've been grinning ear to ear."

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

"Secret."

"Ugh, that's so unfair!"

"Okay, everyone quiet down. Assemble in the meeting room."

With all the players gathered, vacation was over. Now it was time to discuss strategies and tactics for the remaining Round 2 matches and set our training direction.

As soon as everyone was in the room, I kicked off the meeting.

"Everyone enjoy your break?"

"Yes!"

"Good, well-rested? Time to get back to work. As you know, Round 2 starts next week. We'll face every team from Round 1 again. The other teams will have spent the week patching up weaknesses, so expect tougher matches than before. We've got some checks to do too... Everyone, report your skill specialization levels. Sera first."

"Raze: Q and W at Master. E at Expert around 30%. Ult just hit Expert."

Then Seon-ah, Yuna, Eunjae, and Hayoung reported their main champions' skill specializations in turn.

I jotted down the info, then stared at my notes, deep in thought.

No one has all skills at Master yet... Hayoung's Holy Knight has all basic skills at Master, but her champ pool's too narrow. And Seon-ah and Yuna...

As I reviewed everyone's status, one player stood out glaringly.

Kim Eunjae.

Our team's number one support. She was skilled and had improved steadily through team practice, but she had one major flaw.

She was sloppy.

Matching her perpetually drowsy expression, her actions were lazy and scatterbrained—she'd forget my instructions almost immediately.

Her poor leveling and pointless roams had improved only after I'd nagged her endlessly, but compared to the others, she was still way behind.

If I'd pulled that as a player, the coach would've beaten me senseless, but I couldn't hit girls, and words alone weren't cutting it—her progress was painfully slow.

Proof? Her skill specializations were noticeably worse than the others'.

For Moon Priestess, only Moonlight Arrow was at Expert. The other three, including the ult, hadn't even hit Beginner despite months of practice.

Considering that skill specialization came from endless repetition and internalizing optimal movements, it was no surprise for a low-practice slacker like Eunjae.

In Academy League, we could scrape by, but even in Division 3, it'd show badly. Poor champion mastery via skill specialization was unacceptable for a pro.

After compiling the data, I announced our ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Round 2 training direction to the players.

"Even just from what you reported, you can see it, right? Our team's biggest issue right now. We don't have many usable champions. Sera: Raze. Seon-ah: Shadow Assassin and Nightcrawler. Yuna: Wave Sorcerer and that one Trent Master she used once. Eunjae: Moon Priestess. Hayoung: Holy Knight. That's it. With such a narrow champ pool, your skill specializations need to be standout high, but they're not."

"Sure, you're all practicing other champs with me, but none are match-ready yet."

The players fell silent at my points. They probably knew it too. When we struggled against Brilliant in the regular season, it wasn't just their level 1 Roshan strat—their overall champion completion was superior.

"Our Round 2 goals are two. First: raise skill specializations. Second: expand usable champion pools."

Of course, easier said than done. If it were simple, anyone could be a Division 1 pro. If each added just two more champs to main level by Round 2's end, I'd call it a huge win.

And in the process, I needed to straighten out Eunjae's sloppiness. No matter how much I trained her, it was pointless without her effort.

"So how do we train that?"

Hayoung asked, her face sensing something ominous.

"Why ask when you know? Special training, obviously."

"Special training? But right now it's one person every five days—how long would that take for skills and pools?"

"Our Hayoung's so innocent."

I grinned wickedly, scanning them all. An unknown dread washed over the players, making them shrink their shoulders slightly.

"Every five days is for solo special training like now."

"No way..."

"From now on, special training for all five at once. Every day."

"H-how long...?"

"...Until I'm satisfied."

"D-during evening practice games, right? Yeah? Please say yes quick!"

Seon-ah's desperate scream. But I brushed it off lightly.

"No. Right after evening practice games. And one more important thing."

The players stared, faces screaming what else? I glanced at Eunjae and smiled faintly.

"If even one of you fails the daily quota, everyone restarts from zero. Until you get it right."

Eunjae's face turned ashen.

Collective responsibility.

A ruthless method, but nothing reformed mindsets faster.

Eunjae, if you want to survive—and let the others too—you won't slack anymore.