Pro Teams Come Calling

Overlant Korea's official SNS account was filled exclusively with stories about Siwoo.

It made sense—despite only two matches, there were plenty of highlight-worthy moments perfect for mad movie clips.

He'd single-handedly taken down two top academy attackers. Nothing strange about that.

"Looks like our little bro's blowing up online. Shouldn't he go pro?"

"...Pro gamer?"

Siwoo flinched. He hadn't expected his big sister to bring up pro gaming first.

"Yeah! I hear pro gamers make bank these days. Our Siwoo should do it too, right?"

Lee Siyeon poked him playfully.

"Remember Leikah back in the day? All my friends were dying to go pro then. And now? Their status is even higher—no need to explain."

Unlike the past, pro gamers now enjoyed high prestige. Great pay, great treatment.

The Overlant World Championship prize pool alone was 60 billion won. No further explanation needed.

"That said, it's not for just anyone. Gotta be tough to make it."

Lee Siyeon shrugged.

"Anyway, came in here to show you this. Was scrolling Inbyul absentmindedly and saw your face. Finish what you were doing."

With that, she turned and left. Siwoo swallowed hard, then called out to her with effort.

"Sis."

"Yeah?"

"What if I actually went pro? What do you think?"

"...Hmm?"

Lee Siyeon narrowed her eyes, stroking her chin thoughtfully.

"Well, separate from how good you are... I'd wanna talk you out of it."

"...Why?"

"You might burn out."

Her eyes narrowed further.

"There's more than one way to make a living, but your grades are killer right now. You even talked about med school. As your big sis, I'd have to discourage it. You'd be giving up a lifetime gig."

She had a point.

Once in med school, there'd be no need to chase pro gaming.

Only the absolute elite made big money from prizes and salaries.

'Lifetime job... that's the big one.'

Pro gamers could earn big now, but no guarantees for the future.

Few careers stacked up to doctor in stability.

"...But why ask? You thinking about going pro?"

Lee Siyeon lowered her voice slightly.

"...Just pondering."

Siwoo dodged.

Promising or accepting here rashly would lead to clashes without results. Better judged as self-sabotage.

Of course, offers had come—from Kaiserst and others.

But that card wasn't ready to play.

Even the best hand loses shine without the right timing.

Lee Siyeon added,

"Pros vary, but the ones on TV beat thousands to reach the top. Think it through. It's your future."

She smiled faintly and left.

Click.

The door shut. Siwoo smiled bitterly.

'Not quite enough to convince her yet.'

Seemed like more time was needed to sway big sis.

Not just Inbyul—the entire domestic Overlant community was in an uproar.

With the regular season and Worlds over, fans had nothing to watch.

A true stove season—waiting for team leaks or news.

Siwoo's emergence was like rain in drought for bored viewers.

Even in Series Cup with mostly trainees, super plays every match were rare.

Amid countless posts, one video clip dominated.

Highlights of Siwoo cutting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠down Kim Woo-hyuk and Park Jin-woo.

Most comments were positive.

But not all.

In the end, opponents being trainees dragged down Siwoo's hype score.

Big gap between 1st/2nd team players, let alone trainees.

But industry insiders saw it differently.

"Lee Siwoo—we must sign him."

Redforce front office staff Kim Kyung-nam declared.

"Only two matches shown, but mechanics and game sense are 2nd team ready now. Experience him up, 1st team spot feasible."

Kim Kyung-nam handed over Siwoo's personal rank records, adding,

"Rank solid, doesn't choke in tourneys. Carries even weak teams. Gotta snag him."

The GM nodded at the front office pitch.

"If you say so, Kyung-nam, let's contact now."

Kim Kyung-nam was sharp talent scout.

Redforce, stuck mid/bottom, still produced steady prospects—proof.

His eye for players was gold.

From him, a "must-sign"? Skip formalities.

"Many teams probably scouting already. We delay, we lose. Contact ASAP."

The coach chimed in.

Siwoo was risk-free prospect. Timing only issue—these explode eventually. Offer first.

Just 18 too.

Plus Grandmaster top ranks.

Dominating tourneys, value skyrocketing—every team drooling.

"Contract offer? Rookie standard won't cut it."

GM asked.

"Standards vary. Go top tier."

Trainee rookie standards: ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠three types.

Usually first; high rank/tourney wins get second/third.

For Siwoo...

"Hmm, even 60 mil too low. Tweak standard salary up."

Redforce GM deemed standard insufficient.

"Smart move."

"Bomb waiting to blow."

Coach and front agreed.

"Hmm, but..."

GM tapped the table. Best condition was higher salary, but Redforce was broke.

'Even 100 mil tough.'

Redforce max: 80 mil.

"We'll push max. Start contact."

Not a reason to hold back.

Redforce had perks beyond pay—like lifetime free ramen!

"Got it. Friend request now."

Coach and front stood together.

Redforce.

Siwoo signing: DECIDED!

The next day.

Siwoo headed to streamer Pajukjuk's capsule room to prep for the next match.

Early morning.

Tossed all night over future talk, barely slept, arrived early. Friends no contact—vacation, time to kill, sleeping in probably.

So Siwoo solo.

"Yo, Siwoo!"

Capsule room owner and streamer Pajukjuk grinned wide, welcoming him.

Pajukjuk heard Siwoo practicing today—camped counter since open.

"Hi, Uncle."

"Haha, yeah yeah. Early bird huh?"

"Haha, couldn't sleep."

"Yeah yeah. Oh, want anything? I'll hook you up! But win next match too?"

"Thanks."

Pajukjuk's affinity: maxed. E-sports fan, saw Siwoo's top-pro potential.

Siwoo felt good but shy—first time this spotlight after quiet school life.

"I'll be at counter—call anytime!"

"Yep, thanks Uncle!"

Pajukjuk back to counter.

Siwoo entered party capsule booth.

'Warm up solo.'

Logged in, entered game—

Innumerable handshake—no, friend requests flooded in.

'What the...?'

Even...

The Midraider academy coach from before messaged too.

'Whoa, too many...'

Siwoo was speechless.