Division 3 Promotion Battle (3)
"Aigoo, my head..."
As soon as consciousness returned, a vicious hangover crashed over me. I hadn't touched a drop since regressing, so I'd clearly overdone it on my first time back.
I'd had a weird dream too, the first in ages. I was at a fruit stand, rolling a melon in one hand and a peach in the other, when suddenly two flowerpots dropped from above. Bizarre.
Maybe because of the dream, the back of my head actually felt sore, like it'd really been hit by a pot...
Clutching my throbbing skull, I looked around. This wasn't my usual officetel room.
The familiar room layout, the sofa I'd sprawled on countless times. The empty meeting room with the door ajar, the capsule room still quiet.
It was the team practice room.
"Why the hell did I sleep here...?"
I had zero memory of how I'd gotten back last night.
Did I walk? With my film completely cut, it couldn't have been pretty... No way the girls dragged me here, right?
Wincing from the headache, I headed to the practice room kitchen, gulped down some cold water—and that's when the door lock beeped.
A girl with jet-black bobbed hair spotted me in the kitchen and bowed politely.
"Coach, you're up? You okay?"
"Yeah, Ha-young. I blacked out—can't remember a thing from yesterday..."
"Ugh, don't even ask. You passed out face-down on the table, so we cleaned up everything after."
Damn, just as I feared. Showing my pathetic side as their coach.
I shook my head and kept chugging water.
"How'd you settle the bill?"
"Yuna-unnie pulled the company card from your pocket and used that. She said she left the receipt on the desk by your capsule."
"My stuff..."
"Eunjae hauled it all into the meeting room."
"Then how'd I get here?"
"Seona and Sera slung you over their shoulders—one each. I carried their bags. You can't drink anymore, Coach."
They'd done everything.
"Ugh... I didn't screw up or anything, did I?"
"Hmm, not that I saw. You were just out cold when I left. Ask Seona or Sera."
"Got it. Sorry for the hassle."
"No trouble for me. Tell them that."
With that, Ha-young headed straight to the capsule room.
After she fired up her game, Yuna and Eunjae trickled in one by one. Seona and Sera arrived last, together.
"Hey."
"Morning."
"Heard from Ha-young—you guys carried me back?"
"Hmph, yeah. Sorry, but could you not talk to me?"
Seona blew right past into the practice room.
"...Did I mess up somehow?"
"Well... no."
Phew. Good—no blunders during the blackout.
A former top pro knows how to keep it together even wasted, on instinct.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
...Why the hell is this guy bitching again?
"You all have off today, right? Why come to practice? Rest up."
"Promotion match, duh. We'll chill after. Gotta grind today to climb."
Good kids.
Then I couldn't slack as coach.
"Self-volunteered, huh? Love the fire. Play a game first. I'll shake this off, watch practice, then share opponent analysis. Pass it on."
"Got it."
Sera trotted toward the capsule room but paused at the door, shutting it again to stare at me blankly.
"What? Sera, something to say?"
"...Coach."
"Yeah?"
"You can drink as much as you want... when it's just us."
She bolted inside after that.
"...Huh?"
Heading to the fridge for more water to clear my head, something odd bumped in my pocket.
Smaller than my phone.
I fished it out: a tiny, transparent crystal orb in my palm.
I gasped, staring.
It was much smaller than the one I'd gotten from that homeless guy in Paris before regressing—but an exact miniature match.
"Wh-what the...? Why's this in my pocket...?"
It will open the path when you face an unsolvable difficulty.
Passfinder? Was this the reward from that season-start goal thing? This little orb?
But how? No instructions?
I nibbled it—my teeth hurt, nothing else. No chant...
Rolled it, played marble—zilch. Where's the damn manual?
I gave up, stashing it carefully on my meeting room desk by the computer.
###
We'd planned a full team day off, so no scrims.
I oversaw practice all afternoon, then called everyone to the meeting room after dinner—the first full assembly since Brilliant.
"Wasn't on today's agenda, but since we're here, preview before tomorrow's practice. You know the format and opponent?"
"Yeah, double elimination. Opponent's 10th in Division 3."
Only Ha-young answered.
"Double... what? Huh?"
"Winners' bracket, losers' bracket, finals. Win first: winners'. Lose: losers'. Lose losers': out. Win winners': promote. Lose: finals vs. losers' winner. Win finals: up. Lose: down."
"One coin lifeline, yeah?"
"Yep. But it drags schedule, amps pressure. Aim for two straight wins. Know who 10th is, Ha-young?"
"Uh... no."
Makes sense—fresh off their season, no time for lower league scouting.
"No sweat. I prepped it. That's why coaches exist."
I queued up a match on screen.
"Team Riddle. Summer Division 3: 1-8-9, dead last. Our first foe."
"One win all season?"
"They suck."
"Don't judge yet. Watch."
Hit play. Spring promotion finals vs. Brilliant.
"What the—?"
"Gross. How many units is that?"
"All cores like that?"
Carry Siren, Mid Ruler of the Thousand Wolves, Offlane Trent Master.
Team Riddle picked summoner/split-body champs across core lines—carry, mid, off—for insane swarm pressure on Brilliant.
Top support: Reform Sorceress, who tames jungle mobs as allies.
Early clones and summons razed towers, snowballing gold into items for faster, more tower demo.
15 minutes: two of Brilliant's Tier 2 towers gone. They tried teamfights, but too many fakes—couldn't isolate reals.
Tank's defense is great, but one's still one.
With minions, my four-item set plugs three lanes. But no minions? They tanked summons, gnawed exposed lanes.
Riddle swarmed all three lanes, forcing choices. Brilliant's nexus fell in 21 minutes. Clean stomp.
"Not a one-off. They love extreme push meta. Once lanes crack, it's like Brilliant—no counter, just crushed."
"Then why last place? Looks strong."
"Simple. Division 3 knows how to block one-trick ponies—and can execute."
"How?"
"Lightning? EM field on our towers hits 100% evasion."
Seona's solid—not perfect.
"Half right. EM field saves towers, but too short. Can't clear all summons/clones in time—back to demo. Lightning's busy farming Golden Gauntlet anyway."
"So?"
"More swarm? Means counters for multiples. Ha-young, you know."
"Yeah, Land Crusher?"
"Bingo."
But Ha-young tilted her head, unconvinced.
"Isn't it obvious? They know it's their counter—will they just let us?"
"One year+, same comp all season. Skill mastery?"
Her eyes lit up.
"Ah! Maxed specialization."
"Bet their three cores and Reform support are all grandmasters. Half-assed Land Crusher won't kill 'em."
"But Coach, you said Land Crusher first. No one's specialized high—pointless for us."
"Why?"
"They won't die!"
"Why think killing's the only counter?"
"What?"
Blank stares all around.
In a kill-for-gold-item-fight game, no-kill sounds dumb.
"Beat Riddle: read map, predict moves. You're best at that, Ha-young. Your pick: Land Crusher."
"Coach, I said my spec's low."
"I'll teach now. Watch, learn, replicate. Everyone."
Sent them to capsules, logged in.
Made practice room, picked Land Crusher, demo'd the 'unique counter' to their comp.
Repeated: Ha-young's jaw dropped in realization.
She'd never dreamed it.
"This... blocks like that?"
"Told you—not just kills."
"Our coach is a freak. Where do you get this? Division 1 vods?"
"Coaches watch everything. This? My invention."
"...Genius."
"Pfft, imagining their stunned faces when towers hold? Rice alone, three bowls. Nail it, Ha-young! Can't wait to watch."
"Ha-young fighting!"
"Yeah... I'll give it my all."
A week flew: scrims, practice, Ha-young's Land Crusher bootcamp.
Then dawned the fateful first promotion match day.