A Collar Fastened Tight

Gangnam. The Hwarang Group Headquarters.

Grandfather and granddaughter sat facing one another in the chairman's office, where the packed skyline of soaring towers lay spread below them like a view from an observation deck. They were a pair who usually murmured along in easy talk, but today the air between them was altogether different.

Ju Yulcheon's eyes curved with interest as he watched the footage play.

"This... is fascinating."

He stroked his chin.

"To think the one who cleared that underground prison alongside the player from the rumors was our little one."

"I told you, I'm not a little one."

"Ho ho ho! In this old man's eyes, Yeonseo is my little one no matter how many years she puts on."

Ju Yeonseo shot him a faintly sulky glare, then gathered the mood back into her hands at once.

"So? How does he look, through your eyes?"

"...He is, without question, an extraordinary man. Skill and insight that do not match his level. And not only that — boldness, and the wit to move in an instant. He has all of it."

Ju Yulcheon was famous for raising Hwarang Group, a titan among companies, out of the barren ground of South Korea. When he founded the team called K1, he had built every piece of it himself, from one to a hundred, and even now he stayed deeply involved in the team's major affairs. Part of that was simply that the player league had become the largest enterprise in the world. Part of it was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that his inborn eye had never cared what the field happened to be.

To be chosen by that eye was, in practice, to be named a sprout destined to grow into a master of tremendous skill. It was no exaggeration. Vast capital, and a deep, solid roster founded on Ju Yulcheon's judgment — that was what had let K1 reign, until now, as the strongest force in the KPL.

Age, and a late-born granddaughter, had softened his temper a great deal. The razor of his insight had not gone anywhere.

Shin Jaeha, was it.

This time, that interest had settled on a single man.

Honestly, he's incredible. No — incredible doesn't even cover a talent like this.

It was almost uncanny, where a player of this caliber had been hiding before he appeared out of nowhere. The stretch in the middle, especially — where he took the lead, set each teammate exactly where they belonged, and dragged the party's full strength out into the open — had been enough to pull a hollow laugh even from him.

"If he grows the right way... he may become a player who can stand against Siwoo's throne."

"...!"

At her grandfather's words, Ju Yeonseo's eyes flew wide.

Nam Siwoo. Captain of K1, and as good as the face of the present KPL. Ju Yulcheon's greatest discovery, the light of the Korean league.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

He's laying an evaluation like that on Shin Jaeha...!

She crushed the chill and the laugh rising in her with a patience that bordered on the superhuman. Her grandfather was not a man who invented praise for the sake of it. Day to day he was a fool for his granddaughter, ready to drop dead if she so much as blinked — but the moment the talk turned to work, he was cold to the point of cruelty. And that Ju Yulcheon had just judged Shin Jaeha a player fit to stand level with Nam Siwoo.

"And that is precisely why it is a shame."

The words that followed left her puzzled.

"A shame?"

"Yeonseo. Players come in two kinds. Knights, who carry out a role laid down for them — and the king who handles those knights."

Ju Yulcheon set a white chess piece on the table. A king, a great crown upon its head.

"There are players whose best comes out when they are knights, and players whose true worth appears only when they reign as king. Siwoo is a king. He can show what he really is only when he leads the team himself."

With his other hand he drew out a second piece. This time, a black king.

"And this fellow Shin Jaeha is a king as well. And there is only one case in which two kings may exist on a single board."

"When they are... each other's enemy."

"Precisely."

Shin Jaeha was a king. Nam Siwoo was a king. They might meet as enemies. They could not be fielded together on the same team. If K1 meant to use Shin Jaeha, Nam Siwoo would have to surrender the seat he held now — the seat that commanded the team and led it. The captain's seat.

"That is why I called it a shame. Shin Jaeha is a giant. The sort of giant who can still stir this old man's blood after all these years. But to hand Siwoo's place, as his successor, to a man who has not yet fully ripened — that will not do."

"Then bring him in as a trainee first and raise him properly! With skill like that, even if he isn't captain...!"

"Of course, with that skill he would carry a knight's role well enough. But how far, and for how long, a man born a king can keep his head bowed — that, I cannot say."

"Ngh......"

Ju Yeonseo bit her lip.

"So you're just going to give up? Let him slip now and he'll become a serious obstacle for K1. You know he will."

"Which is why it is a shame, Yeonseo. A treasure sits before my eyes, and I cannot have it."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Not that Ju Yulcheon had any intention of watching Shin Jaeha walk away with both eyes open. He was not so free of greed that he would simply send off a player of such enormous potential.

"You do it yourself, Yeonseo."

"...What?"

Her grandfather's task. Flame leapt in both of Ju Yeonseo's eyes — she who had been thirsting for his recognition.

"Really?"

"This old man does not say two things with one mouth. Do as you please."

"Yes!"

Ju Yeonseo shot to her feet, excitement spilling out of her.

"Just watch! I'll come back with that man's contract in my hand!"

However outstanding he might be, he was still, at best, a level 6 Warrior. There was no way he could refuse the sweet offer of becoming one of K1.

"I will organize the details and send them along. And Yeonseo, it has been a while — stay a little longer with this old man..."

"I'll start preparing right away! Thank you, Grandpa, I love you!"

Business done, she became a streak of wind and left the chairman's office.

"...*sniff*"

Watching the granddaughter who had not spared him a second thought, Ju Yulcheon swallowed his tears, then let a small smile settle on his lips.

"Yeonseo is twenty-three this year, isn't she... That tiny child has already grown so much."

A precious granddaughter, gained late in life. And unlike his son, who had possessed not a scrap of talent to his name, a lovely child stamped through and through with his own eye and his own sense. In raw ability, in fact, she was a genius who surpassed even Ju Yulcheon.

There was still something she lacked.

Experience. And failure.

Her talent had been so outstanding that she had run a road of unbroken success from a young age. Ju Yulcheon had lived long enough to know the nourishment failure gives, and so he had set this task before her on purpose. A task that could not end in anything but failure.

"Shin Jaeha. Another interesting one, showing up in my later years."

His quiet laughter spread through the vast chairman's office.

"What in the world did you do in the training room for a bill like this to show up?!"

The moment my brother, Ju Hyeok, saw the invoice that had landed in my name, he yelped in horror.

"Um... well... I broke a few of the reinforced plates."

"You broke them? Those?"

A player's training room uses special reinforced plates worked from mana stone. Without them, there is no withstanding the transcendent force superhumans put out. The problem is that they are outrageously tough, and the foundation of that toughness is processing that pulls in every last trick of modern science. In a word, they cost an outrageous amount of money.

Expensive as they are, few players train timidly in there. That is how viciously, stupidly hard the plates are.

"I barely tapped one, and it crumbled like a cracker. I'm telling you."

"There's no way it breaks from just that... never mind..."

Hyung looked like he had a great deal to say, and said none of it.

"So how are you planning to pay this? Do you have any money saved?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be eating and sleeping at your place."

"Ha ha ha. Asked something obvious, didn't I."

Well, it wasn't as if I couldn't cover a sum like that. All I had to do was turn the credits I was holding into cash.

Credits had been pouring in lately, so I was at a point where I could pay that much without strain. Even so, I didn't want to cash them out if I could help it. There were a few reasons.

Credits are at their lowest point right now.

Their value only climbs as time goes on. What would fetch me thirty now could fetch me a hundred later, and knowing that future, it stung to hand them over at a loss.

And credits can be used for all sorts of things, so I want to stockpile as many as I can.

If there was truly no other way, I'd have to plug the hole with credits... but it still rankled. Riding the popularity I had now onto broadcasts or streams and collecting appearance fees was an option, yet as I'd already resolved, throwing time away in places like that wouldn't do.

Isn't there some method? Work that doesn't touch my Channel play, and still makes money...

It felt uncomfortably close to wondering whether there was a job that didn't tire the body, didn't require any studying, and paid a great deal, and the mood of it turned strange.

"Mmmmm... hm?"

While I sat there clutching my head, something caught my eye. The business card Taeya had given me, just before we left the underground prison. Light flashed through my skull.

"Hyung, how much do Channel streamers make?"

"Streamers? Well... it depends on their weight class, but even a mid-tier one makes a major corporation's salary look like a joke."

"Yeah...?"

"Obviously it isn't easy to blow up. The streaming market is a total red ocean. If you want to survive, you need a weapon of your own."

"A weapon?"

"A feel for variety, or a face. Or else... ridiculous skill?"

Hyung pulled up a streaming platform and walked me through a few examples. Yu Ina, who had become a popular streamer on witty talk and outstanding looks. Haru — HARU — a former high-tier skill streamer who was now a player on a KPL Division 1 team. Others like them.

"These days, there's no self-promotion as sure as streaming."

"Oho... is that right...?"

"But why are you asking all of a sudden?"

Reading the intent under my words, Hyung drew his brows tighter and tighter.

"...Don't tell me?!"

"It's probably exactly what you're thinking."

Not the slightest interference with Channel play. A way to spread my name and drive my price up. And, on top of that, a way to make money. The best option on the board.

"I'm doing it. Channel streaming."

"Jaeha... streaming isn't easy either. For someone starting from nothing to blow up, you need buzz..."

Hyung cut himself off. In truth, the hardest condition of all — buzz — was as good as already met. I was the mysterious level 6 Warrior at the center of the controversy right now. I could strap a proper booster onto the opening stretch.

"That part does seem all right, I'll give you that... but a fine start is all it is. To keep a broadcast going, you need your weapon. What they call content."

"I wasn't really planning to do it for long."

Self-promotion to raise my price, and funding until I got onto a team. That was the extent of it. Once I started league play in earnest, there would be no need.

Still, if I want to make money until then, it's true I need something.

Honestly, even that wasn't much of a problem. At this point in time, how many people could run a skill broadcast better than I could?

"It's fine. I've got it all figured out."

"If you say so, I won't stop you... so then what? You opening an account right away? Want me to help?"

"That'd be great. Oh — before that."

It was going to be a first broadcast anyway. Better to do it with a professional than alone. A straw to suck through... no. Some help. Wouldn't it be?

I picked up the card and called the number written inside at once.

"Hello, Taeya. This is Jaeha."

On the other end of the line, he practically shouted in surprise. I curled one corner of my mouth into a grin and went straight to the point.

"I'd like to collab. I'll provide the content."

As it happened, I had one tremendous piece of content ready. A smash hit for the ages, called the rank ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Placement Test.