Scrim (1)
The following Monday marked the first day of Shining Star as a proper team, with all the players having moved into the dorms.
Since we still hadn't found any scrim partners, team practices had to be substituted with matches against AI bots.
One might scoff at the idea of training against bots, but these weren't the simplistic bots from the PC gaming era. Modern bots analyzed play data, movements, and item timings from hundreds of millions of players, mimicking real users almost perfectly. Plus, their difficulty could be adjusted independently, making bot matches far superior to grinding general team ranked games against mediocre randos.
In fact, bot matches were a go-to practice method for bottom-tier league teams like ours.
Now, it was time to set the difficulty...
What level would be best for the team overall?
Setting it to Platinum, the baseline for the girls' current skill, would mean painfully slow progress.
But crank it too high, and they'd get steamrolled without learning a thing.
Considering Seona, we'd need at least Master-level bots for her to get any real practice.
Seona played mindlessly, but her physicals were exceptional. To challenge her properly, Master bots were a must.
Yet if the others got shredded in the process, practice would grind to a halt.
Guess it's time for a full team skill check.
It was right around noon anyway.
I stepped out from my small private dorm next to the practice room and headed straight in.
Being the first day, everyone was already up and gathered in the practice room.
There were five player capsules ready; mine was set up in the meeting room. The players gave me a quick bow in greeting.
"Hey, Coach."
"Yeah. Just to reintroduce—I'm Kang Yuseong, your coach starting today. Let's all do our best."
A somewhat perfunctory round of applause followed.
I dove straight into the main point for practice.
"You all remember we're doing bot matches until scrim partners show up, right? Before we start, we need to set the difficulty, so first up: testing your skills. Simulated comp setup and laning phase tests. Everyone log in and join the channel I'll create."
After that, I set the pick screen to loop infinitely, then had each player take turns as captain for the entire afternoon, running pick phases over and over.
While picks progressed, I stayed silent, just observing. Each captain picked to the best of their ability.
After a few rotations, things sorted themselves out quickly.
"Seona, why'd you grab Shadow Assassin on your third pick?"
"'Cause the enemy had a ton of beefy champs!"
"And all that beef was magic damage dealers. Shadow Assassin's passive is completely useless there. How do you plan to scale against that comp?"
"Uh?"
Kim Seona—eliminated.
"Sera, why Light Spirit on fifth pick?"
"...Seemed like it'd fit our comp."
"And who's playing it?"
"......"
"Eunjae, Hayoung—know how to play Light Spirit?"
"Nope." "Nah."
"If you pick it, one of them has to play it. Why grab it without asking?"
"...Figured they could handle it."
Shin Sera—eliminated.
"Eunjae, picking something else there would've smoothed out the comp and given stronger late-game power. Why that instead?"
"Thought we'd win quick..."
Kim Eunjae—eliminated.
At least when Lee Hayoung or Cha Yuna captained, the comps came together decently.
True to the metrics, Hayoung's picks looked the most solid by my standards.
Even after repeating several times, the results held. I made my call and stopped the pick loops.
"In-game captain's Hayoung. Yuna as sub. During picks, you two discuss thoroughly, draft a pick list, and run it by me. The rest of you—immediately say what you play best. If there's conflict, Hayoung's judgment wins. Got it?"
After dinner and a break, evening brought skill tests.
These had to be tailored by position.
First up: carry Shin Sera.
A carry needs two things: surviving tough early games while farming CS, and raw power once fully online.
I started us both at level 1, heading bot lane. Sera faced me plus two bot supports—a 1v3. But using skills here, tankiness there, I snagged about half my lane's CS and thoroughly denied hers whenever she went for it.
Sera had never faced an offlaner of my caliber, so she panicked visibly and soon called her supports to stack jungle camps for her.
The moment I spotted them dipping out periodically, I pinged our bot and mid. While they were gone stacking, I dove the lone Sera and devoured her.
"Sera, wanting to swap to jungle camps against a strong enemy offlaner? Good call. Right judgment. But sending both supports for farm greed leaves you exposed solo. Instead, pull the wave back or snag stacks early. See? After you died, we stole all those stacked camps. At that point, you're done as a carry."
"Got it."
Her comeback mechanics passed muster, though. I geared us both fully and threw down in teamfights—she knew how to position skills and items perfectly. Once early game passed, her carry threat was solid, no worries there.
My tests continued late into the night.
Yuna got probed on surviving brutal sidelanes and teamfight setups; Eunjae on map reading and creating chaos; Hayoung on babysitting carries, vision control, and ally peels.
"Huff, huff... C-Coach, what kinda carry pressures like this?"
Yuna, utterly drained from the laning test where I'd beaten tears out of her from the jump, panted post-test.
"You think the rank 1 guy can't handle this?"
"Holy crap... Just heard the name Kang Yuseong, didn't know it was this level. Doesn't this make us super strong?"
Unlike Yuna's starry-eyed hope, my worries deepened.
What good was my strength? They were the ones playing matches.
The tests revealed satisfying bits per player, but flaws galore—way too many.
Fine for scraping by in academy league, maybe. But my pride wouldn't allow it.
Me, Kang Yuseong, the world's top pro who'd chosen to coach these girls myself—they had to reach at least my level for it to feel worthwhile.
I planned to elevate Shining Star to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with men's Division 1, no matter how long it took.
I flashed a wicked grin.
"No time to slack. All of you—pull your skills up to my level. The nice Coach Yuseong ends now. Better brace yourselves."
"Eek, not scared at all even with the tough talk~"
Seona giggled.
You're on the special hell course, buddy.
"It's midnight now. Everyone—solo queue minimum five games starting now. No games done? No sleep till you hit the count. You can spectate, so trying to cheese early adds one game per miss. Go."
"Um... Coach, five from now? Even rushing, it'll be past 3 a.m. Can't we do three tonight and two tomorrow?"
"Think slacking fools can match hard workers and improve? Eunjae, slacking on day one—make it six."
###
"What're you doing! CS farming doesn't end laning phase!? No thought to dodging skills!?"
"Feet showing, feet! You gonna stand there eating every skillshot like a statue!?"
"Supports! Spot enemy gank? Portal up and rotate immediately!"
"Offlaner, what gives! Ini visible, allies in range—dive now! Perfect angle turns to blown if you wait!"
"Two-plus enemies MIA on map? Assume gank incoming—how many times do I say it!?"
With no director at Shining Star, I wielded full authority as coach-slash-acting-director, drilling the girls relentlessly.
I ran them ragged mercilessly, matching nearly the intensity of my old men's Division 1 pro days.
Repeated mistakes got zero mercy in feedback; training stayed brutally tight. Of course, as girls, I couldn't push to full pro male levels yet—stamina gap was real.
Once they built experience, though, I'd ramp to full men's Div 1 intensity. Not yet.
I tempered it to my standards—grueling enough to wring tears—but nearly four weeks flew by.
Still miles short, but their form had climbed to respectable heights.
I'd scaled up volume and intensity accordingly, so their exhaustion levels were consistent.
Team bot game wrapped; ten-minute break, then 1v1 coaching. Hayoung, per my creed that "supports need physicals too," collapsed spread-eagle after brutal solo lane drills.
"Ughhhh... Coach, I'm dying... Mercy, please..."
"Won't kill you. Up. Twenty minutes left."
"Cut me some slack—I'm a girl! Seriously too hard, just a break..."
"You can. No 'girl' excuses! Pro means do it. Now."
"Hic..."
Hayoung propped up on wobbling limbs, grumbling but prepping for more 1v1.
Shining Star was still flaw-riddled, but this was where training gave me the "these girls have it" vibe.
No one slacked on drills.
Pro days overflowed with women's team horror stories: whining at mild hardship, crumbling at minor feedback, or worse—forming cliques to bully one out.
But Shining Star? They'd gripe "dying here," yet followed orders. No "can't do it" quits, even grinding hardest. A few tears, sure.
I knew they vented about me behind backs, though.
One day Seona scampered up: "Coach! Coach! Last night Yuna unnie was punching and kicking her pillow yelling 'Aaaah! Kang Yuseong! You bastard! Bastard!'"—total tattletale.
Yuna, prideful and hierarchy-sensitive, got extra stomped to drill rank in, so yeah—pissed was fair.
Backtalk? Ignored it. If they didn't curse me out after that grind, I'd question if training landed.
Final twenty minutes of hell-coaching ended; Hayoung panted, sweat pouring like rain.
"Hah, hah... D-Done, right? Lemme grab water and rest."
"Yeah. Good work. Take a breather."
Hayoung vanished into Eternal Combat without reply—too wiped. Game movement drained real body energy, so post-grind meant refueling IRL.
Watching her soldier through hell-drills to hydrate? Admirable. Same for all.
Needing a break myself, I exited my capsule for cold water. Spotting me, Hayoung peeked slyly, then chugged juice from the fridge.
Time: 5 p.m. Afternoon session wrapping; rest time.
Calendar check: exactly fifty days since I took over.
Grinded 'em brutally—maybe reward today.
Peak career as player, zero as coach. Unwitting slights or slip-ups? Possible.
Time for player input on academy days, my methods—and a carrot.
I knocked on the capsule room, calling them.
"Afternoon done! Got words—meeting room, now."
Hayoung aside, the other four staggered out, utterly spent.
We headed to the meeting room—post-training feedback spot, so they dreaded it. Solo summons? Faces darkened instantly.
Once all five assembled, they eyed each other, sighing deeply en route.
Ugh, psycho dog coach at it again.
No one voiced it, but unanimous thought.
"What, you all look like you're headed to interrogation?"
They huddled, peeking meekly; I broke ice.
"Isn't this the interrogation room? Always get chewed out here—thought so."
Eunjae spoke; others nodded.
These kids.
"Really? I called you to thank you for great training and pick dinner spots—guess that hurts my feelings. Fine. Tonight, cup ramen together..."
"Beef!!!"
Seona slammed the table, bolting up before I finished.
"Chicken!!!"
Yuna shot up too.
"Sushi."
Quiet Sera chimed in.
"Pizza!!!"
"Offal platter!!!"
Hayoung and Eunjae leaped.
True to their personalities, zero menu overlap.
"Show half this fire in training. Menus clash—rock-paper-scissors. Winner picks."
The five girls' all-out rock-paper-scissors frenzy? Most fired-up, passionate sight in fifty days.