Post-Match Aftermath and Reinforcement
In an unexpected turn, Kim Do-jun from the victorious PER team ended up as the interview representative. He seemed half-disbelieving himself, teasing his teammates even as he headed out.
"PER's Kim Do-jun, victor of this match! Let's hear from you."
As Kim Do-jun approached the caster, cheers erupted.
But somehow, those cheers feel ominous...
No matter how I thought about it, there was zero reason for Kim Do-jun to be doing this interview. Unless it was that viral clip of him lying down playing Go-Stop.
No way... probably not.
But even so, that couldn't be it. Sure, lying down to play Go-Stop might go viral, but they wouldn't base an interview on it... or so I thought.
And indeed, the initial questions and answers were straightforward.
"Kim Do-jun! Great to see you. This PER match had a huge impact. The combo of Lee Chang-hyun and Ryu Jae-jun up front, with the rest handling defense. Can you tell us about the preparations?"
Why pick Kim Do-jun for this question...?
"Sure. This strategy was prepared long before the match even started. We practiced it as a team unit..."
The interview proceeded smoothly—until the moment I'd been dreading hit.
"Actually, the reason Kim Do-jun was picked for this post-match interview... it's this scene. Right here. This clip's blowing up online communities. You know about it?"
The highlight reel showed the infamous moment: Kim Do-jun sprawled on the ground, playing Go-Stop.
Haa... he's embarrassing the whole team.
"They caught that on camera, huh? Heh heh heh."
"My plays got outdone by that?"
Han Ji-su cracking up at the sight, Ryu Jae-jun fuming over losing the interview spot... If this was the first impression for outsiders, maybe it wasn't the worst.
They hadn't even used the raw footage. They'd sped up the long stretch where I was playing Go-Stop against him, making it look like we were exchanging moves at blinding speed.
"What can ya do? Can't be helped. As we climb higher, more spotlight's gonna come our way. Gotta deal with it."
What the hell is he on about...?
He was talking about drawing a Go-Stop board in the dirt and playing it, but the guy's acting like it's legit?
"Heh... heh heh heh heh heh."
Han Ji-su and Yoon Han-gyeol lost it. The team watching the live interview in the waiting room couldn't hold back their laughter anymore. Ryu Jae-jun looked dumbfounded, while Yi Gil-han seemed embarrassed for the team.
Whoever made that edited clip the caster was showing... genius or troll?
Such thoughts aside, I checked the live reactions out of curiosity—and sure enough...
Yeah. Even I'm surprised. In just one debut season, has any other player racked up this many memes? Anyway, the PER vs. QED match—which I'd worried about as our first in Division 2—wrapped up successfully.
The next day, at PER's home base. To review the PER vs. QED match, the team gathered in twos and threes in the second-floor practice room. It was lively—everyone had plenty to say about yesterday's game.
"What? Interviews always go to whoever stole the show."
"All he did was play Go-Stop..."
"If I were a spectator, I'd wanna ask why he did that too, ngl."
Fair point. Right after my 2v7 bloodbath with Ryu Jae-jun came the clip of him scratching his belly while lying in the dirt playing Go-Stop.
But we weren't here for that, so I cut the chatter.
"Enough of that. Let's start feedback on yesterday's match."
It was a clean win as planned, but no perfect game lacks review points. We had to comb through for better choices in the fine details of combat.
The massive screen in the practice room replayed yesterday's match.
"Right here. If you'd attacked immediately, they wouldn't have dodged. You knew this from last time, right?"
"Yeah, but reacting feels slower than I think..."
"Don't think and react—react on sight. Train your judgment algorithm so your body gets it and fires instantly."
That split-second hesitation, that 0.1 second, could decide battles. To climb higher, we had to refine relentlessly starting from Division 2.
Even with my skills sharing that instinct, it wouldn't be easy. Knowing the image and feel didn't mean your body could execute it.
"You probably get the mental image, but your body lags... yeah, that's normal."
Especially since air anchors, air beats, and even billiards-level calculations went beyond what my abilities could fully cover.
"That's why. I've got something for it."
I opened the door to the back practice room, and a new face entered.
"Hello. I'm Im Seong-tae, the coach here to assist your training from now on."
This was the coach I'd been hunting for since deciding to build my team post-regression.
What did the team need? Simple: at least seven starters for matches. Subs for rotations. More subs as we hit Division 1 and up. A director for macro feedback and tactics. A coach for micro adjustments, drilling players individually.
What's missing right now...?
Definitely the latter. I'd handled scouting, tactics, and even some micro feedback with my skills... but
It's not enough on its own.
Even perfect form, images, and fight styles needed constant correction—not an overnight fix. Players had to compare their poses to ideals, adapting fluidly in matches.
Hence, a dedicated coach was essential. And Im Seong-tae specialized exactly in what we lacked.
"To properly transfer power here, keep your elbow tight to your head and raise strong—like this."
He was already reviewing the PER vs. QED footage, giving one-on-one feedback.
It was a new breed compared to what I'd done—precise posture tweaks for proper power use. Details players knew but slipped into habitually.
"Ah... my leg stance collapsed here, so I couldn't block properly."
Admiring voices rose as each got feedback. A minor stance shift changed the effort needed entirely.
No surprise...
Im Seong-tae had been one of the top coaches pre-regression. Yet not the absolute elite—lacking Hunters League tactics expertise.
That made recruiting him easier than expected. Pre-regression, he'd made decent money at the academy doing privates...
Even talents like him struggle sometimes.
Before facing PSG's overwhelming individual powerhouses, having Im Seong-tae join felt like a win.
Won't guarantee victory... but definitely better.
The rest to tip the scales? That'd be on me.
Meanwhile, at PSG's home base. Silence hung heavy in the living room.
"How'd practice go?"
"Same as usual."
Han Ji-hu's practice results sheet had red X's over every team except PER.
Practice matches plus actual league games: undefeated in Division 2.
The director glanced and said calmly,
"Well... wasn't expecting trouble, but let's match last season. Promote to 1 next year."
"Yes, Director."
"True. No one's touching you in 2 anyway—no reason to slack."
"You're too kind."
"Flattery aside. That PER team—where they at?"
"PER?"
"They beat QED. Big margin too. Last 2 season before 1—don't drop it slacking."
"Us? Lose?"
Han Ji-hu slid last match records over. Not just wins/losses—data screaming dominance. Including QED and even some Division 1 practice games.
"You know if not for that crap Division 1 lockout, I'd be dominating there already."
"Fair."
3 to 2 was a jump; 2 to 1 another. But polished like Han Ji-hu? Manageable.
"Wasn't shade. Just focus—end strong."
"...Got it."
With that, Han Ji-hu headed to practice.
"That guy's sensitive. Team's killing it, but aiming for 1... inevitable. Still, no real worry for 2. Post-practice, no other team stands a chance."