Trust Your Angle
After the opening match wrapped up, the players didn't slack off on practice.
Even Lee Soo-hyuk, who snuck peeks at his favorite anime on his smartphone whenever he caught a break, was keeping his edge sharp by juggling ranked games and scrims.
Park Chan-seong held steady one-on-one sessions with the coach to shave down his mistakes, pushing personal practice deep into the night.
Kim Ho-jong, Kim Yong-taek, and Siwoo were no different. They'd grind ranked games after scrims and pore over opponent breakdowns the rest of the time.
Others might mock them, but this crew was dead set on clinching the season title.
No complacency after just one game—even a perfect score win.
"Next up's Red Force."
Kim Ho-jong spoke up during a brief breather after hours of grinding.
"Red Force, huh? Pretty famous team. Big fanbase. How good are they?"
Siwoo asked.
"They're solid, but their attacker line's weak. Even with strong defenders and supports, we can handle 'em better than EG."
"Heard their attackers are kinda middling compared to the rest. Sounds like it's true."
"Yeah. Bunch of rookies who just debuted. No attackers around, so they're grooming their own."
OCK always struggled with attacker shortages.
More precisely, a lack of top-tier attackers.
Any promising ones got snapped up by North America or China right away, and even the leftovers were poached by elite squads like GZ, A1, or Hanhaseong.
"Anyway, bottom line: matchup favors us. Picture's you and me carrying."
Kim Ho-jong grinned.
Victory in the opener had him brimming with confidence.
"Gotta make sure we dominate the attackers, then."
"Exactly. Red Force game's on us to deliver."
As everyone knew, Kaiserst's frontline was shaky right now. Park Chan-seong hadn't hit his stride yet.
It'd take time, so until then, attackers Siwoo and Kim Ho-jong had to rack up points before the weakness got exploited.
"Whew, guess that means more practice."
"Don't push too hard. You'll shit yourself."
"What kinda talk is that...?"
Siwoo recoiled in disgust. He'd fired himself up for once, only to get hit with that.
"Haha, just means don't burn too hot. You'll crash eventually. Think like a salaryman—just do the job."
Seemed like a no-go mindset for pros, but... it rang true enough. Nonstop sprints could fizzle out fast.
"You're such an old soul, hyung."
Siwoo chuckled.
"Damn right. Twenty-seven in Overlant? Retirement age, time to enlist."
Kim Ho-jong tilted his head with a smirk. Dude always joked about his age—left you speechless.
Clack.
That's when the practice room door swung open from inside. Park Chan-seong and Coach Shin emerged.
"Hey, kids. Stretched out?"
"Yeah. Ready for scrims anytime."
"Cool. Rest a bit more, then dive in."
Shin Seung-hyun plopped into a chair and grabbed a banana like it was routine.
"Chan-seong, grab one."
"Sure..."
Park Chan-seong looked drained, though. Another storm of feedback, probably.
"Chan-seong hyung catch hell again?"
Kim Ho-jong asked.
"Yeah, kept playing passive. Gave him a word."
"One word? Felt like a novel..."
"That's one word in my feedback book."
Team-wise, Park Chan-seong lagged most right now, so he got dragged into the "truth room" every time.
"Siwoo, how's your condition?"
"Feeling good today. Not peak, but solid."
"Yeah? Rough sleep?"
"Opener dopamine kept me up."
"Haha, fair enough."
Shin Seung-hyun polished off the banana and stood.
"Alright, scrim time. Today's Fox Gaming."
Fox Gaming. Siwoo knew 'em well from Han Jiyeon's file dump.
Classic bottom-feeder. Low investment, scraping by with raw prospects.
"Just maintain feel today."
"Got it."
Siwoo rose and headed to the capsule room. Chan-seong hyung took the spot beside him today.
"Rough go, hyung?"
His shoulders slumped. Like this since the opener.
"Huh? Nah, not really."
"You look beat."
"Heh, just low energy."
Park Chan-seong forced a smile. Hiding it, but Siwoo saw through. Dude's mentality was on the brink.
"You're doing fine, hyung. Don't sweat it."
Not much Siwoo could do, but encouragement was easy.
"Yeah..."
Park Chan-seong still looked wiped.
Park Chan-seong had been called "kiddo" since his streaming days, always with a knack for games that made him a star.
His mechanics were nuts, landing him as a regular in streamer civil wars like "Doomsday Wars," boosting his views sky-high. But pro gamer? Worlds apart.
Now him, a pro?
Ridiculous.
No way he could hack it.
But why'd he chase it anyway?
'Coach believed in me.'
Shin Seung-hyun had guested as daily coach in Doomsday Wars once. Spotted Park Chan-seong's play and asked if he ever thought pro.
Reason? Mechanics, obviously.
Park Chan-seong's "brainless" style shone in reactions and avatar control. Got him to Master tier.
At first, he shot it down. A streamer inner-war scrub like him in the pro scene? Where geniuses swarmed?
He climbed tiers via "headbutt dino" burst trades—easy prey for pros.
But Shin Seung-hyun, fresh from North America, was Korea's hottest free-agent coach. His trainees dominated.
Hard not to bite when that guy buys in. Hell, anyone else offering, he'd have jumped.
Reality hit brutal, though.
Scrims? Couldn't match pace. Opener? Endless flubs.
Teammates covered, no spotlight on him—but he knew. Didn't belong here.
"Chan-seong hyung! Shield up! Hurry!"
"R-Right...!"
Siwoo yelled. Park Chan-seong thrust his shield forward, popping his trait.
Whoosh—!
Mid battlefield, bullet waterfall raining, shield expanded, sheltering allies.
Today's scrim foe: Fox Gaming.
Not as tough as prior squads, but still chewed him up.
Yeah.
All he could do—tool for attackers, chipping at wins.
No personal drive in sight.
'Maybe I just can't cut it as a pro.'
Doubts every time.
This round, too.
Maybe hardening into certainty now.
Scrim win.
But it tasted bitter.
Out of the capsule, waiting Shin Seung-hyun spoke.
"Solid game. Ho-jong and Siwoo synced great, Yong-taek too. Quick feedback this round."
His gaze landed on Park Chan-seong.
"Chan-seong, you even wanna play this game?"
"Huh?"
"Not focused."
"Ah..."
Visible to coach's eye too? Park Chan-seong scratched his head sheepishly.
"Just... lotsa stray thoughts. Can't lock in."
"Scrims demand focus."
"Yeah..."
Park Chan-seong bowed his head.
"Chan-seong, know what I want from you? Yeah, I've drilled it."
"Aggression."
"Right. But you played passive again. Why?"
"Ah..."
Park Chan-seong rubbed his temple.
"Felt my calls were off. Everyone's crushing, I'm lowest tier, no experience. Lean on Ho-jong hyung or Soo-hyuk hyung naturally..."
Valid doubts. Swap anyone in his shoes, same story.
"Sigh, Chan-seong. Can't do that."
Shin Seung-hyun gripped his shoulder, displeased.
"If it feels like an angle to you, take it. Treat other teammates like NPCs."
"NPCs...?"
"Yeah. You're the only one with answers. Your angle's gospel."
He pressed on.
"We're data farming now. Not every game's finals. Experiment, clash, fail, succeed—boost odds. Get me?"
Season's marathon. Weekly games, 18 total. Playoffs extend it.
"Yeah..."
Park Chan-seong nodded, grasping it.
"Good, assuming you do. Prep next game. Opponent's waiting."
"Got it."
Shin Seung-hyun exited the booth.
"Whew..."
Park Chan-seong exhaled deep. Siwoo, watching, nudged his shoulder.
"Hyung, why so down?"
"Ah..."
Park Chan-seong smiled awkwardly.
"Dunno what 'show aggression' means exactly. Can't go full streamer inner-war berserk either."
Coach's words felt abstract, sure.
"My take: less shielding teammates, more DPS output."
"Prioritize damage over defense?"
"Yeah. We all got survival down, killer mechanics. So you focus breakthroughs."
Park Chan-seong stroked his chin, brows furrowing.
"Example: Versus enemy defender, don't just hold—tunnel-vision and shove. Shield defs got SMGs. Snag frontline control."
"But then can't cover team?"
"Tell 'em to handle it. Yong-taek hyung heals via sniper anyway. Me, Ho-jong hyung—we survive solo. You pierce straight."
"Ahh..."
Park Chan-seong nodded slowly.
Feedback clicked consistent now.
'Trust the team. Own your role, push ahead.'
Only after Siwoo's words did he get what coach demanded.
'Aggressive defender—ignore guarding, just frontline breach.'
Finally decoded.
"Yeah... starting to get it."
Siwoo smirked.
"Good. And you're doing great, hyung. That shield sync today? Perfect timing, set up dealers huge."
"...Really?"
"Totally. Keep that, we're golden."
"Huh..."
Park Chan-seong's face brightened at last.
Basic shield pop, timed by signals—but praise was key. Buoy morale for shaken teammates.
"So hyung, step by step. No rush. Season's long, right?"
Siwoo grinned, fist out. Park Chan-seong nodded, bumping it.
'Yeah, season's long.'
Ultra-early days, just opener done. Time to grow.
Coach said it: data stacking phase.
So grind hard.
"Thanks, Siwoo."
"No sweat. Next game's up."
"Yeah."
Park Chan-seong smiled—awkward, but real—as he entered the capsule.
Gearing for Red Force.