Round 2 (Part 2): Eunjae's Hell Training

Kim Eunjae.

She was one peculiar girl. Even before joining Shining Star, she hadn't been your average student.

Long before becoming a pro gamer, she'd been a trainee dancer at The Shine, the entertainment agency that owned Shining Star's parent company.

I didn't know exactly how long she'd trained as a dancer since I never asked, but it must've been a while—group living seemed second nature to her.

The inverted days and nights of pro gaming life threw the others off at first, needing time to adjust, but Eunjae adapted at an astonishing speed.

She took scoldings from authority figures in stride, barely flinching, and never whined or cried no matter how grueling practice got.

But the massive issue? She was a total slacker.

Eunjae put more effort into makeup than practice, more interest in new drops from fashion and cosmetics brands than discovering champion builds.

After practice, hitting the coin karaoke for over an hour was routine, and on days off, she'd occasionally club-hop with her dancer sisters. How a high schooler even got past the doors was worrying—made you wonder if she was up to no good.

Actually, seeing her brazenly puffing cigarettes as a minor, you had to assume she already was...

She was always the last to the practice room, and from what the others said, she slept in a lot too.

Yet she was also the first to wrap up solo queues after evening scrims and head back to the dorm.

While the other four eagerly awaited their special training turns, Eunjae's energy visibly tanked on her day.

If she had no talent, I'd have cut her loose, but her flashes of brilliance made that a waste.

Plus, her dancer background had forged solid stamina—if she just buckled down, her growth could outpace the rest.

But her slacking habits meant while the others mastered one or two skills, she hadn't even hit a single specialization master.

High skill specialization levels amp up attack power, range, area, or added effects—essential for pros, not optional. Division 1 pros had full champion masteries as baseline.

We couldn't expect that from our academy league kids yet, but after months of team practice, not even one skill mastered? Huge red flag.

So I prescribed the ultimate fix: if she slacked her way to stagnation, force growth down her throat.

"Kim Eunjae! Why the hell isn't that arrow reaching me? Did you even practice!? If you'd mastered it properly, it'd be lodged in me right now!"

"You call that Moonlight Leap? An elementary school standing broad jump goes farther! You'll smash your head into the wall, get caught, and die!"

"What kind of Moonlight Storm damage is this? Doesn't even tickle! Draw that bow like your shoulder's gonna pop—angle it upward! Is that so hard to get?!"

"Ugh... damn it..."

My endless barrage twisted Eunjae's face. The others watching mirrored it.

"Haaak... haaak... I-I can't... do no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠more..."

Desperately sprinting to extend her Moonlight Leap range, Eunjae finally collapsed flat.

I approached the sprawled girl slowly, knelt to her level, and locked eyes.

"Can't?"

"Haaak... Y-yeah... I-I'm gonna die..."

"All of you, over here."

I beckoned the four waiting. They'd been grinding skill masters minutes ago, sweat-soaked head to toe.

They approached like cattle to slaughter, eyes squeezed shut, biting lower lips.

"Pair up two-by-two from now on. Practice your lowest specialization skills on each other."

"H-how long...?"

Ha-young pleaded with desperate eyes. I deliberately avoided them.

"Until Eunjae's Moonlight Leap hits Expert 70%. No breaks till then. Start now."

Her current Moonlight Leap was Expert 66%. Four more percent? Minimum hour of all-out effort.

"Kuh... that bitch..."

Yuna glared murderously at Eunjae. She'd hit her target already, but now an extra hour of hell thanks to her.

With me there, though, she couldn't vent—just gritted teeth and paired with Sera to spam skills.

Deep despair clouded Eunjae's face.

Collective responsibility.

Day 4 of my hell training policy. Eunjae falling short meant the others rolled for it—not once or twice.

No matter how slack she was, she wasn't shameless. Seeing the others suffer because of her paled her face every time.

"C-Coach... can't I train alone? The sisters and others are done, so just let them go..."

"Shut it and get up. Lie there longer, and it's five extra minutes for them every five seconds."

Her trembling limbs shot her upright.

Her face was a tearful mess, barely holding back sobs.

"Expert 70%. Level you should've hit ages ago if you'd practiced properly. Unmastered specs lose winnable fights and games. Think of this as them paying for those losses."

"Then lemme practice alone...!"

"Did you?"

"......"

"Did you?!"

"...... S-somewhat..."

"How much?"

I snapped my fingers. Pre-sent capsule data materialized in the game lobby as a hologram beside me.

"......"

"Evening scrim solo averages and bedtimes. And..."

I flicked the hologram up.

"......"

"Sundays. The other four: afternoon solo, evening solo. You: call dancer buddies for karaoke, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fake age for clubs. And you claim you're practicing?"

"Starting tomorrow... tomorrow I'll practice for real."

"See? Even now, no 'right now,' always tomorrow. Will you practice tomorrow? Or the day after? Pros don't have tomorrows. Everything now. Did you tell your dance trainer 'tomorrow' for botched moves?"

"That's... not..."

"Not what? Thought pro gaming's easy money since you game anyway? Or since we keep winning, this is enough? That mindset dooms the team and shortens your career—don't you get it?"

"......"

"Eunjae, I'm ripping that mindset out by the roots. From tomorrow, practice room one hour earlier than everyone, back to dorm one hour later. One-on-one with me. Miss targets, it extends. No mercy till results. Skip a day? Prepare to suffer."

The next day.

"KyaAaAaH!"

Kim Eunjae bolted awake screaming. Even her dreams tormented her with Kang Yuseong's hell training.

Drenched in cold sweat, she glanced at the clock: 11 AM. Normally, prime sleep time. No, she needed to be deep asleep. Yesterday's special training yielded zilch, so Yuseong held her till the end—back at dorm past 5 AM.

Little sleep, nightmares, days of brutal sessions—muscle pain hit hard. She wanted to cry, but held ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it. Losing to that damn coach felt worse.

Exhausted to death, she staggered up, washed, threw on clothes. Late? That demon would barge into the girls' dorm, grab her hair, drag her out.

"Damn... Kang Yuseong, you bastard... total asshole! Hate him! Can't stand his face! Hate him so much!"

She loathed Kang Yuseong. Blunt, cold, extra harsh on her. No pro experience, yet spouting endless philosophies like a know-it-all.

If his gameplay sucked, she'd ignore him and do her thing—but he played too well to argue.

"Hate him so much..."

Her steps to the practice room weighed a thousand pounds.

How much longer till she escaped this hell schedule?

She wanted more sleep. Same hours as the others—clock out, wake up, arrive together.

Basically lazy and sleep-loving, Eunjae dreamed only of breaking free from Yuseong's clutches.

So she didn't realize.

Her desire to sleep in more ironically drove her to rack her brain for efficient skill uses—to meet ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yuseong's standards with minimal effort.