Scouts from the Pros
One corner of Overlant Championship Park.
Even after the match ended, a man with a flushed face lingered in his seat, refusing to leave.
'As expected, my instincts were spot on!'
It was Kaiserst's coach, Shin Seung-hyun.
He had been watching Lee Siwoo ever since the participant list dropped.
With his insane KDA, headshot ratio, and win rate, Siwoo had stood out from the start.
Records weren't everything, but from that moment, Shin Seung-hyun's gut told him: Siwoo's talent was anything but ordinary.
Sure, he might have switched over from another game, but that didn't matter.
What counted was his undeniable performance in Overlant.
"Lee Siwoo lives up to the stats. We'd need to see more matches, of course, but based on this one, he could jump straight to the first team no problem."
The coach who had come with him to Championship Park chimed in.
"And he doesn't choke under tournament pressure— he's already way past trainee level."
The coach was convinced too.
Siwoo's talent was no small thing.
"Looks like we've got our centerpiece for the rebuild, huh?"
Shin Seung-hyun grinned.
Kaiserst was dead last in the league right now, cutting ties with their old roster to rebuild from scratch.
Just like a building needed a solid frame and foundation, a team rebuild needed a core player to anchor it.
"Yes, we have to snag him. With mechanics like that, he'll shape our direction and give us a rock-solid center."
That worry was off the table now.
Of course, they'd still need to win Siwoo over.
"If he keeps dominating like this next match, other teams will come sniffing around for sure. We should move first."
The coach offered his take.
Other teams might spot a superstar prospect, but they rarely rushed in or signed prematurely. Conservative, you could call it. Real matches were a different beast.
Teams that went undefeated in scrims and looked unstoppable often crumbled once league play hit—far from their practice form.
If even pro first-teamers struggled like that, what chance did trainees have?
That's why they played it safe.
And with their stacked rosters from first team to trainees, those clubs weren't desperate.
No matter how overwhelming Siwoo looked today, they wouldn't pounce right away.
Unlike Kaiserst, they weren't starving for it.
But that was no reason to delay.
Siwoo's performance today was rock-solid, backed by his personal stats.
Plus, he didn't seem the type to crack mentally in real games.
That meant pro-level talent that could hold up anywhere.
Shin Seung-hyun nodded.
"Let's go talk to Lee Siwoo."
The match wrapped up.
Logging out and climbing from the capsule, Siwoo turned to his friends.
"We punched through quals, nice!"
"DaSIU, damn, what the hell!!"
"Thought we were toast after losing set two, but hell yeah."
"Siwoo's super plays are just standard now."
His friends cheered, marveled, tossed playful praise, replaying his highlights.
A scene that had played out time and again.
Familiar reactions by now.
Yet the thrill never faded.
That heart-pounding thump.
A friend's silent nod, their hyped-up voice.
Every reaction hit like thunderous applause for a stage actor.
This was why he'd shaken off the fear and stepped up here.
Proving his skill, drawing those responses—that was gaming's essence for Siwoo, the reason for the stage.
'If I go pro and shine, it'll feel even bigger, right?'
Siwoo pictured it.
Beyond friends cheering—crowds going wild.
Stands erupting, chat exploding, SNS flooded.
A dream everyone had once.
But Siwoo wouldn't settle for just dreaming it.
Everyone roaring or holding their breath, his name bursting from their lips, "That guy's insane"—
That split-second heat, the spotlight—it changed everything, he believed.
Some hated the pressure, others claimed they didn't need the attention.
Not Siwoo.
The world's eyes on him, heart racing wild, fingertips ice-cold, body buzzing—
That was why he wanted to be a pro gamer.
"We're in mains now, right? Round of 16."
Siwoo asked, and Han Jiyeon answered.
"Yeah. Don't know the next matchup yet, but Madric will probably advance. They've got prospects like Kim Do-hyun here too."
Madric.
Another trainee squad, packing serious firepower—not to be underestimated.
"Watch their two attackers especially. Kim Woo-hyuk and Park Jin-woo. They handle close-range and rifles without missing a beat. Killer mechanics, smart plays too."
E-sports maniac and keen observer, Jiyeon knew trainee profiles better than anyone. Beyond "I like it"—this was deep knowledge.
The fruit of all-nighters analyzing potential tournament foes, compiling data.
"So what? Siwoo'll wipe the floor with 'em."
"Facts. Opponents won't touch us."
"Just play our game. Let's grind."
But Siwoo's friends weren't worried. His track record spoke for itself.
"Haha, yeah, you're right. If we play clean, we're good."
Even Jiyeon agreed.
Siwoo smiled warmly, grabbing his jacket.
'Feels good.'
Trust that had become routine.
Shoulders felt solid.
"Alright, food time?"
"Hell yeah, good vibes meal incoming."
"Starving, starving!"
Siwoo and the crew filed out of the capsule booth. Heading for the exit—
"Lee Siwoo?"
Someone called his name. Siwoo and the friends whipped around toward the voice.
"Yes?"
Siwoo replied.
"Loved your match today—really impressive. Oh, here's me."
The man who called approached with a friendly grin, handing over a business card.
Kaiserst Pro Gaming Team Coach – Shin Seung-hyun
'Kaiserst coach?'
Siwoo tilted his head.
"Here to scout?"
"Spot on."
Shin Seung-hyun smiled smoothly.
"Kaiserst, first-division pro team, wants to team up with you. Mind if I get your contact?"
His second scout offer. No reason to turn it down. Siwoo took the card.
"Sure."
"Thanks."
Siwoo checked the card and punched in the number.
"We'll be in touch, Lee Siwoo. Congrats on advancing in the tournament."
With the contact secured, Shin Seung-hyun smiled once more and strolled off.
"Whoa, Siwoo got scouted?"
"Deserved it. That was legend-level today."
"Didn't expect it after just one match."
Park Jongsu asked.
"Didn't you say no to pro before?"
"Yeah, talked it over with Jiyeon and changed my mind. Gonna give pro gaming a shot."
Siwoo grinned sheepishly, and Kim Jeongin snapped his fingers.
"Nice! Yeah, you gotta go pro. Mechanics are nuts!"
"Agreed, total agreement. And it's not just mechanics—your base game sense is elite."
The others, Park Jongsu included, chuckled at the responses.
Talent like that made skipping pro the weird choice.
Overwhelming even against trainees.
"Heh, good thing I counseled you, huh? Almost let your talent rot."
Han Jiyeon puffed her chest proudly, beaming.
"Kinda sucks wasting second-in-class grades, but whatever. If you blow up pro, who cares? Tens of billions in salary easy."
Park Jongsu laughed.
"Overlant monthly champs: 600 billion prize. Saudi Worlds: 300 billion. Says it all."
Gaming wasn't just play anymore.
Since VR hit, E-sports became a whole new beast—a full industry.
"Real talk. Siwoo, if you hit it big, don't ghost us?"
Kim Jeongin joked with a smirk.
"Never. We're tournament buddies now."
Siwoo fired back lightly.
"Okay, chat later. Food first. Y'all starving from focusing, right?"
Han Jiyeon clapped.
"Yeah, chow time."
"Found a spot nearby. Nakgopsae joint—total foodie haven."
"Perfect."
"Let's roll!"
"Nakgopsae sounds bomb."
Siwoo chuckled at the quick topic shift, then followed his friends out of Overlant Championship Park.
Today's high—he'd never forget it.
On the bus home.
Siwoo sat by the window and pulled out his smartphone.
'Pro gamer scene...'
He searched for pro gamer info. Internet was solid these days—everything popped up easy.
Whoosh.
Search results scrolled out.
The pro industry graph was skyrocketing to all-time highs, but Korean teams weren't dominating.
More precisely: tons of skilled Koreans, but no Korean team had won an international tourney. Top A- and S-tier players poached overseas by money fights.
Anyway.
Key point: plenty of openings. Korean league wasn't the top choice for elites.
Staying home was a perk, sure, but overwhelming cash? Humans adapt anywhere.
'...Not a bad gig?'
From his earlier analysis.
Siwoo figured he was beyond trainee or second-team level.
Series Cup proved it.
Hot prospects folding against him left and right.
'Confidence building.'
Jiyeon's talk had solidified it, but now the pro dream burned brighter.
Meanwhile.
Beyond Kaiserst, multiple pro clubs eyed this tournament closely.
Trainee tourney—prime spot to scout potential.
Plenty of prospects lit up the radar.
GZ's Kim Do-hyun, MidRider's Lee Jung-hyuk, RedForce's Park Yi-soo, and more—
Each club's marked targets.
Watching standouts, pushing transfers if they overperformed.
But an unexpected name blew up.
"This guy's insane, right? No team affiliation."
"IGN: SniperSiwoo Lee Siwoo. Rank stats are nuts. KDA 17.8, headshot rate over 90%."
"How'd we miss him till now? Should've been obvious."
"Yeah, weird no buzz. Should've been scouted ages ago."
EG's academy coaches buzzed.
EG (E-sports Galaxy): mid-table domestic league team, famed as a selling club—nurturing prospects to flip to top teams for profit.
Less about glory, more about player development and sales.
To them, Siwoo was jackpot merchandise.
No affiliation, elite skill—unclaimed lottery ticket, perfect raw talent.
"Game count under 100. Just hit Grandmaster recently. Explains flying under radar."
"Send the offer now?"
"Has to be. This feels like the late window."
"Nah, watch more. Just one match."
"True. Too soon to call."
Siwoo's skill transcended trainees, but opinions split.
"Level gap's clear, but first-team viability? Mechanics-focused style."
Mechanics—heavy reliance on raw feel—was a red flag for coaches.
If outmatched there, the whole kit crumbled.
Today's show was dominant, sure.
But against trainees with zero pro-stage reps.
Cautious vibes inevitable.
"Still say we offer."
One scout stated firmly.
"No downside keeping his type. Teach team play, and he'll pop eventually. Others will move too."
The academy coaches nodded.
"Right. We're scouting down to Diamond now. Grandmaster? No-brainer."
"Yeah, makes sense. Mechanics plus killer base sense. Let's propose."
"One more name for the stove league watchlist."
Consensus reached.