Even Defeat Seemed to Shine
Even defeat seemed to shine.
Could an outcast like me really enjoy a meetup?
I still wasn't sure about that, but at the very least, I was finally able to taste the meat.
The beef melted in my mouth.
It had a tender texture and the luxurious, savory richness of rendered fat.
Combined with a sweet and sour sauce that paired exquisitely, it captivated my palate instantly.
Honestly, I was amazed.
I used to think that as long as you bought expensive meat, it would taste the same no matter where you ate it.
I realized I had lived my entire life without knowing anything about flavor.
In the hospital, food like this was beyond my wildest dreams.
Even if my parents wanted to feed me something good, whether my body could actually accept it was a completely different story.
"Nabi, would you like to try this one too?"
"Y-Yes...!"
Had I gotten too swept up in the atmosphere?
Before I knew it, Na Jia was treating me like a little baby bird.
Except for the fact that I wasn't chirping, there was really no difference.
Every time Na Jia placed food on my plate, I obediently put it in my mouth.
As if trying to help me find my favorite combination, she changed the side dishes every time.
Sometimes it was a different dipping sauce, sometimes it was with kimchi, and other times it was with green onion salad.
...Come to think of it, am I really just sitting here and letting myself be fed?
A sudden wave of self-reflection washed over me.
But I didn't have the courage to do anything else, so I just lowered my head again and stuffed more meat into my mouth.
As I ate, the corners of my mouth curled up into a silly grin.
At first, I had panicked so hard I was on the verge of tears.
But now that delicious food was in my mouth, I couldn't even control my facial expression; a smile just kept spreading across my face.
It was a change of emotion so simple it was almost ridiculous!
I wondered if this made me closer to a beast than a human, but regardless, I had to eat the meat in front of me.
If I could keep eating food this delicious, living as a beast didn't seem like such a bad idea.
"Nabi, are you allowed to drink? How old are you again?"
"I-I'm eighteen... legally. I can drink. Since, um, January first has passed..."
"Ah. So you only recently became a legal adult. Have you ever tried drinking before?"
"N-No. Never."
"Then you probably don't know your tolerance either. We shouldn't order any alcohol, then."
It was an obvious answer.
There was no one to encourage me to drink with them, and I had never really been interested in it anyway.
To be precise, the concept of alcohol had never even crossed my mind.
But... still.
Having someone ask me about it made me suddenly curious about what it tasted like.
Even if they didn't give me any, wouldn't the others have a few drinks?
Maybe I could have just a tiny sip.
However, none of the team members seemed particularly eager to drink, so in the end, no alcohol was ordered to our table.
Throughout the rest of the meetup, Na Jia continued to act as my shield.
She would smoothly redirect any questions or conversations directed at me.
Thanks to her, I had time to gather my thoughts, and knowing I had a clear ally by my side put my mind at ease.
"By the way, Nabi, you said you want to become a pro gamer, right?"
"Y-Yes... though I'm not sure if I have what it takes yet."
"Why not? You're really good at the game, so I think you'll do great."
"Yeah. To be that good when you only started recently, you definitely have potential."
"Is there a specific reason why it has to be a pro gamer? Honestly, it feels like you could have chosen many other paths."
How fickle my social anxiety was.
The moment people started praising me, my spirits began to lift.
Then again, whether it was shyness or social anxiety, it all stemmed from defensiveness and paranoia.
Once you escaped the state of panic and people treated you with kindness, it was bound to improve.
Besides, this wasn't a place where I was being judged, like a piano competition or an audition.
Most of all, the title of "pro gamer" made my heart flutter.
Like any other shut-in, I became passionate when it came to my interests.
"Well... I saw a pro gamer who lost a match, and they looked so incredibly frustrated."
My past life had been a continuous cycle of resignation.
There were simply too many things I couldn't do.
Trapped in a prison of a body where I couldn't even die on my own.
The only way to protect my own mind was to give up.
If I hadn't, my festering insides would have rotted away, emitting a foul stench to the outside world.
The stench of a rotting mind eventually turns into hostility toward others.
I didn't want to hurt the family members who cared for me.
Their hearts were undoubtedly already torn to pieces just by looking at me.
"The winner cried tears of joy... and they wanted to win so badly that their emotions showed during the game... I wanted to experience those feelings too."
But a professional gamer was a career at the complete opposite extreme of my existence.
Watching a certain finals match by chance, I was instantly captivated.
A pro gamer was grieving a defeat with every fiber of his being.
He was in so much pain that his hands trembled and tears welled up, forcing him to grit his teeth just to endure it.
It was the same during the match.
The tide of battle had already turned so unfavorably that it was irreversible.
They must have known that better than anyone else.
Yet, unable to let go of even the slightest sliver of hope, they struggled desperately until the very end.
I was so envious of that.
To me, who had done nothing but resign and give up, even their defeat looked brilliant.
I wished I had the courage to hurt like they did.
That was why I wanted to become a pro gamer.
Because I hated living a life of constant resignation.
Because I wondered if, by having the same job as them, I too could fight until the very end.
I wanted to become a pro gamer because I was curious about just how sweet a victory must be to make someone hurt that much to obtain it.
On that hospital bed, which I could never escape until the day I died.
Even though I knew it was impossible, I at least allowed myself to dream.
And now, I was finally in a position where I could actually challenge myself.
"I'm starting a bit later than others, but I still want to try."
Usually, the age when people start preparing to become pro gamers is around middle school.
They enter the highest ranks at that age, joining academies or becoming trainees under professional teams to get on the right track.
In fact, based on age alone, I should have already been fully prepared to make my professional debut.
I wasn't stupid enough to not know something so basic.
Because of my late start, I would have to walk a much harder and more grueling path than anyone else.
And that was on top of carrying the unnecessary burden of my innate social anxiety.
But I could walk now, and that was enough.
Being at a disadvantage compared to others was unavoidable; I just had to be grateful for the fact that I could do anything at all.
I wasn't sure if I had expressed myself well, given my poor speaking skills.
But Na Jia's next words struck a chord deep in my heart.
"You can do it."
"...Thank you."
"It's been a while, ma'am."
"Didn't I tell you to speak comfortably?"
"How could I speak casually to a senior as esteemed as you?"
"Hearing you speak so formally to me is even creepier. Ugh, whatever. Forget I said anything."
The petite woman fanned herself with her hand, looking exasperated.
Opposite her, a massive man maintained an extremely polite posture.
The pairing, with a height difference of well over a foot, looked incredibly mismatched just by appearance.
Yet the man bowed his head deeply in greeting as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Well, it wasn't that strange if one knew the relationship between the two.
Their pro gamer IDs were Hero and Havoc.
While they were senior and junior by a wide margin, Hero was a particularly special person to Havoc.
During his active years, when Havoc was on the verge of being forgotten as just another mediocre player, Hero was the one who had helped him the most.
If anyone were to ask him who the greatest pro gamer was, he would answer "Hero" without a moment's hesitation.
That was how much Havoc respected the woman sitting before him.
When someone like her called him, saying she had something to ask, Havoc would make time even if he had none.
He had to make time, no matter what.
"Well, it's nothing major. I saw you got wrecked by some amateur recently?"
"...I'm not in my prime anymore, senior."
"Would you have won back then?"
"Hmm. Honestly, in a one-on-one, I'd still win eight or nine times out of ten."
"So you'd still lose at least once?"
"To be honest, even in my prime, I think I would have dropped a game."
It was an unexpectedly high evaluation.
Hero nodded, prompting him to elaborate.
It seemed she wasn't interested in him today, but rather in the Berserker named DoNotTalkToMe.
"If you watched the match, you'd know that I won in every aspect that could be decided by pure skill."
"You did."
"But you know how there are those moments when you play?"
The realm of luck that lies beyond calculation.
Moments of razor-thin damage calculations, or clashes where neither side can be sure of who holds the upper hand.
Even pro team coaches have areas where they focus on feedback for the aftermath rather than predicting the outcome.
In those moments, Havoc hadn't won a single time.
He won everything he could dominate with raw skill, but the moment he lost even a shred of certainty, he suffered losses.
What was strange was that Yu Nabi, on the other hand, seemed completely certain.
The gambits she threw out as if they were obvious choices actually all paid off.
Her attitude suggested there was no element of gambling in her moves.
"But you lost at the end because you missed her positioning."
"That was... honestly, I played emotionally. And I had already half-lost the game from the start."
"Hmm. Are you still a bit bitter about it?"
"No, not really. Looking back, I felt a sense of respect. Watching the replay, it didn't feel that bad."
Havoc shook his head.
During the game, he had been too busy pressing his mechanical advantage to notice, but he could see it clearly when he rewatched the match.
Yu Nabi had truly analyzed everything about him.
Not just his minor habits, but even the weaknesses he had only briefly exposed throughout his entire professional career.
It was believable enough to say she had watched every single one of his matches.
Losing was never pleasant.
But he was already a retired pro gamer, and he took pride in his prime.
He couldn't bring himself to dislike someone who remembered his most brilliant days.
"Then, trusting your eye for talent, what do you think of her potential? Assuming I take her under my wing."
"She will definitely make it. As long as she has the will to learn."
Havoc did not hesitate.