Crossroads
Before holding individual consultations with the players for contract renewals at this crossroads, he took longer than expected to mull things over.
Come to think of it, my last memory before regression was essentially a release too.
Being released didn't mean the end of a player's career. With so many players, there were plenty of teams, and some went on to shine even brighter elsewhere.
But... getting released inevitably stirred up a whirlwind of thoughts. It felt like you'd become useless, like you were being cast aside. Memories of teammates brought a pang of regret.
"......"
The agonizing deliberation dragged on, but as the team's leader, the answer was already clear. He had to be honest. In a league that was only getting tougher, tell them plainly and coldly that it would be hard to go forward together. That was the best he could do.
After all, he'd only formed this team post-regression to build his ideal one. As the team climbed higher, roster changes were inevitable.
At the end of this season, including himself, PER had eight players left: him, Yoon Han-gyeol, Kim Do-jun, Han Ji-su, Yi Gil-han, Yi Yeon-ju, Shin Seung-hyun, and Jeong Hye-yeon.
Of those, Shin Seung-hyun and Jeong Hye-yeon...
Regrettable, but I can't take them any further.
Shin Seung-hyun, who'd probably made pro with his decent close-quarters combat thanks to Physical Enhancement: B+. Jeong Hye-yeon, who'd held her own moderately with Interpersonal Defense: C+.
Neither had much growth potential—in skills or stats.
And that was just the start. With team matches growing more crucial in the Second Division league, where tactics demanded synergy, they'd be at an even greater disadvantage. Even in Third Division, despite his direct coaching, they hadn't shown much promise...
PER was now a Second Division team. It was time to spread its wings and soar. No more carrying dead weight.
After calling Jeong Hye-yeon and Shin Seung-hyun to the director's office and serving them tea, he noted they showed no bewilderment despite the sudden summons. Unlike their usual tension, they seemed oddly composed.
Maybe his long internal debate had made him hesitant to dive into the heavy topic right away. He started light.
"Y'know, aside from practicing together before promotion, we haven't really chatted much off the record."
He smiled casually. The mood might've eased a bit.
"Honestly, you scared me at first. You joined when the team was a total mess, and you two were always bickering with Gil-han. I was like, whoa, are they gonna go feral?"
"Right? Right?"
"That was right after I'd watched a PER match. It was such a disaster, no helping it. Then realizing this was gonna be my team? Pitch black ahead."
"Yeah, it was. Looking back now, spot on."
Hard to believe that mess was already ancient history. Time flew by so fast it startled him. And yet, after spending this much time together, he realized he barely knew them. That hit with a twinge of surprise too.
They passed the time with idle chit-chat.
As the team's roster grows, will there be more folks like Jeong Hye-yeon and Shin Seung-hyun—just passing ships with no real memories? A faintly sad thought crept in.
But he couldn't stall forever. The hard words had to come.
"Guys. The real reason I called you today is..."
He straightened up, voice serious. Jeong Hye-yeon's eyes met his, clearer and more resolute than usual. Like she already knew.
And then, the unbelievable happened.
"No. It's okay. You don't have to say it."
"......"
Jeong Hye-yeon gave a wry smile.
"Seung-hyun and I... we've thought a lot during this promotion battle."
She seemed calm, but her clenched fists trembled faintly.
"No talent, age catching up. That's it. And especially... living with this team, we knew we were holding you back. Sorry for all this time. And thank you, Chang-hyun."
"Thanks to you... we got to dream big."
...They knew.
How? The contracts in his hand? Or guessing from being the only underperformers called in?
He'd never know for sure, now or later. What mattered was that those details were irrelevant. Every word carried the weight of their deliberations, their resolve.
And their consideration in speaking first, sparing him the awkwardness.
Regret mingled with gratitude.
Shin Seung-hyun and Jeong Hye-yeon stepped forward for handshakes. Hands he'd never touched before—not even during training corrections. The warmth from those teammates, that sensation, would linger long in memory.
I'd never been good at studying. For someone like me, awakening was a ray of light revealing untapped potential—a lifeline.
"Um, can I try being a hunter?"
Half worry, half expectation from those around me. That's how my hunter life began.
But it wasn't easy from the start. No overwhelming stats, no early hunter training, no cheat powers. Awakeners like me were a dime a dozen, stuck in Third Division.
Maybe because I sucked at school. I lagged behind the pack.
Then PER reached out. Looking back, it wasn't about me specifically—just grabbing anyone. But still.
The team was a dumpster fire.
"It's 'cause you charged in like an idiot!"
"Then what? Sit there and take it?"
Clueless coach on Hunters League basics, absentee owner. Shitty facilities, talentless dreamers. The screaming matches at team home were legendary.
Ugh... even now, thinking back... How'd I survive? But I did.
No confidence for anything else. Quitting meant what—starve?
So I stuck it out. Atmosphere toxic, future bleak, but they paid. And hey, I was a hunter, even in Third Division.
New season hit the dumpster PER anyway.
"Saw your match. You were great. Total clown show."
Now it's a fond memory. Back then? New guy's sass had me floored. This mess getting worse?
Sigh city. Figured I'd coast on salary, Lupin-style.
Resigned to it.
But after that guy joined, miracles trickled in. Team home still cramped, but now structured Hunters League lessons. Winless losers beating squads in preseason scrims. No public recognition, but new sponsors appeared outta nowhere.
One by one: systems solidified, league knowledge grew, fresh faces joined. It started feeling like a real team.
Blink, and PER—once screaming winless—topped Third Division, crushed promotion, ascended to Second Division.
Who could've predicted when that guy first showed?
No one. Years wallowing in defeat, adrift. Now? Teammates dreaming big.
Refusing to settle for Third Division first, challenged Second Division. Won promotion.
Oh yeah, first team photo ever...
Packing, he spotted the framed pic from post-promotion at the stadium. Everyone smiling.
They'd achieved that dream. Time for new ones: Second Division first, then First Division, higher still.
Lee Chang-hyun would lead them there, no doubt.
But without me now. A bit regrettable. One season, so much felt, achieved. Where would the stayers go?
Envy stirred.
Still, good memories.
If Lee Chang-hyun had scouted elsewhere from Third Division. Never become PER's owner/director/player.
Shone solo in Third Division, ascended alone to Second Division.
Or ditched PER deeming players talentless.
No such feelings then.
Sudden savior from nowhere—grateful anew.
"Last of the bags?"
The framed team photo he'd left out. Packed it, left the new team home.
"Kinda sucks. Just moved to this nice place."
Out the day after moving? Peak inefficiency. If they'd said during move-in, less regret.
Parting from a home soaked in shitty memories would've lightened steps.
Watched tail-end performances, dead weight—skipped goodbyes, just grabbed stuff and bounced.
Already told Chang-hyun, so should be fine...
Stepping out to the front garden toward the road—
"Huff... huff. Unnie...!"
"Yeon-ju..."
Yi Yeon-ju had followed, breathless—rushed out.
"Why... why leave without saying goodbye? This is the end, right? No more hunting. But you're not just quitting cold, are you? Don't leave me behind alone."
Unlike her usual self, words poured like machine-gun fire. Longtime PER mate pre-Chang-hyun—deep bonds.
Hugged her wordlessly. Obvious words.
"Got a good job, so Hunters League ends here. Step up without unnie, Yeon-ju."
Good job my ass. Unemployed now.
"You always liked watching more than playing anyway. I'll keep tabs on PER—keep winning big."
Watching beats playing? Sitting idle—what's fun? Last moments, can't be straight.
Still... nice seeing your face.
"Unnie... at least visit when you can... I'll wait."
"Sure."
More goodbyes, hollow laughs. Hurried off before attachment grew.
From the director's office window, PER's front yard came into view. Jeong Hye-yeon left, then soon Shin Seung-hyun.
In the dim room, Lee Chang-hyun murmured bitterly.
"Shin Seung-hyun, Jeong Hye-yeon..."
The names of teammates who'd shared Third Division history longest.
He wished blessings upon their futures.