Scrims, Feedback, and Flirty Texts
Week 7 of OCK.
Kaiserst's day preparing for the clash with A1 was no different from any other.
They'd wake up around four in the afternoon for brunch, kill some personal time to digest, then warm up with ranked games starting at six.
By eight, they'd run multi-queue with the team to sync up and finish warming up. That's when proper scrims kicked off.
Scrims ended at random times—games varied wildly in length. But they never dragged past four in the morning.
Once scrims wrapped, it was usually dawn. They'd grab a late dinner together, coaches and director included.
Sometimes it was midnight snacks prepped by the chef; other times, they'd order out. Takeout wasn't too frequent, though. Everyone was a total homebody.
That was Kaiserst's daily grind right now.
A life consumed by the game, ending with the game.
In the midst of it all, one scrim opponent kept popping up lately.
Tokyo Raccoon.
A mid-tier Japanese team. Not as strong as Sengoku Gaming from before, but still packing serious firepower. They'd thrown money at it, after all.
The reason they kept matching up was simple: perfect for both sides to hide their strategies. Tokyo Raccoon got the same benefit as Kaiserst.
Lately, scrims had been against them. No chit-chat, though—the other side wasn't into friendly banter. Language barrier made it pointless anyway.
They were scrimming Tokyo Raccoon right now, too. On a quick break, capsules popped open.
"Chan-seong, that last game was solid. Your aggression was on point, and you held the center well. Let's keep that direction going."
"Yeah."
"Don't think of it as just attacking. You're marking their defender while eyeing angles on their dealer. We've all got the mechanics to survive anyway."
"Yeah."
Even during break time, Chan-seong hyung's feedback kept rolling. To Siwoo, though, Park Chan-seong's face looked brighter, more at ease.
Signs of real growth were starting to show. He could feel it himself, which was firing him up.
Growth didn't hit overnight. Steady practice built it slowly, then boom—it all clicked at once. When your instincts finally caught up to the plays in your head.
Good news.
Siwoo smiled faintly, nodding.
Truth be told, Park Chan-seong was basically a sandbag against A1's defender. His skill gap was that wide.
If he leveled up now, though, they could string together some real win streaks.
"Alright, feedback for Chan-seong's done. Everyone, rest up. One hour break, then back to scrims. See you soon."
"Yep."
Finally, the marathon feedback from Chan-seong hyung wrapped. The director packed his tablet and left the practice room.
"Phew, exhausting."
"Tell me about it."
The hyungs, who'd been laser-focused, finally slumped into their chairs.
"You guys wiped?"
Siwoo asked. He was the only one still buzzing in the room.
"Hell yeah. Hours of focus, man. You good?"
"Not really..."
"Whoa, high schoolers built different?"
Ho-jong hyung let out a dry laugh.
"I'm only twenty-two, though."
"I'm twenty."
"Hyung, I'm nineteen too. This guy's just a freak."
Soo-hyuk hyung, Chan-seong hyung, and Yong-taek hyung chimed in one by one. Excluding the "elderly" Ho-jong hyung, no one was that old.
No prime-age stars in their early-to-mid twenties, sadly.
Made sense. Peak pros wouldn't join Kaiserst.
"So Siwoo's not just an Overlant freak but a stamina monster too?"
Ho-jong hyung's words drew all eyes to Siwoo.
"Figures. Kid's not normal."
"Should've gone pro in ball sports, not Overlant."
"Talent this, talent that. Freak."
Siwoo chuckled.
"I was walking twenty minutes to school till recently. Can't compare stamina to you guys."
Getting called talented for endurance felt unfair. He'd walked to save bus fare for capsule rooms—hardly a gift.
"Walking's a talent."
"True. I never leave the house."
"That discipline is talent..."
The responses were straight out of human disqualification. These hyungs could claim "I've lived a shameful life" and it'd fit right in.
Siwoo shook his head with a sigh when Ho-jong hyung switched topics.
"So, how's A1 looking?"
"We got this."
"Tokyo Raccoon matches prove it."
Scrim record was solid: 7-3 against Tokyo Raccoon.
"Same here. A1's better, sure, but we've got depth now. And we're clutch in real matches, right?"
Ho-jong hyung grinned.
"Yeah."
"We're winning."
The others nodded.
"They're a wildcard circus. That's why the nickname. No scrim data means no read on them."
Siwoo's take differed.
A1 thrived on high-risk, high-reward aggression. What you saw wasn't all there was.
Info was scarce. Six matches like Kaiserst, but their games gave zero tells.
"True. They're aggressive as hell."
The issue? Engagements.
They fought in spots with no business fighting. And in bad spots? Super plays flipped the script.
Circus crew for a reason—wild tricks every game.
"Eh, what can ya do? Analyze past games."
No scrims with A1 now.
"Screw it. No work talk on break. Headache."
Ho-jong hyung melted into his chair like slime.
"So, things progressing with her?"
He eyed Siwoo.
"Who?"
"The girl from before."
"Nothing much. Just occasional check-ins."
"How often?"
"Haven't talked recently. Busy."
"What?! Dude, that'll tank her interest!"
Ho-jong hyung bolted up.
"Keep check-ins going, ask questions, string convos! Skip too long, she drifts. 'Busy' is death!"
Shit, that was bad.
Chats with Jiyeon had dipped, yeah. A1 prep ate time—tons to analyze.
No mood boosters lately. Just games and breakdowns. He needed Jiyeon time to recharge.
Ho-jong hyung pressed.
"Fine, message her now."
"What?"
"Simple. 'Whatcha up to?'"
"That's noob move."
"I'm a love pro. Trust me."
Siwoo squinted skeptically. Trust this guy? Might just screw up.
But yeah, contact had lapsed. Midraizer game, he'd half-assed her message.
She might misunderstand!
"...Fine, sending."
Siwoo fired up his smartphone.
"Sent."
"Siwoo love advice? Lmao."
"Group up! Prime entertainment!"
Sudden romance talk revived the slouched hyungs. They crowded Siwoo's spot.
Even disinterested Soo-hyuk hyung dragged a chair over.
Siwoo realized too late: mistake. Scrim focus had dulled his judgment.
Spilled milk now.
Five minutes passed—no read receipt.
"No read?"
"Ten PM. Probably asleep."
"Yeah, school's tomorrow."
"Oof, ex vibes. Busted."
Siwoo sighed.
"...Ah."
Slapped his forehead. Shouldn't have trusted them. Late-night spam? Rude!
"Whoa, read."
The '1' vanished.
"What she say?!"
"Typing?"
"Spill!"
Too much attention. Siwoo stood, shielding his screen.
"I'm handling this solo now."
"What?! The fun part!"
"No fair!"
"Siwoo, share the log!"
Hyungs griped, but Siwoo held firm. Showing more disrespected Jiyeon—turning her into content.
He tucked into a corner, hugging his phone.
Classic Jiyeon—straight to questions. Convo pro.
"Kya, talking like you're dating. Sweet, Siwoo."
Siwoo jumped, glancing over. Ho-jong hyung had snuck up ghost-like.
"W-What, when'd you get here?!"
"Reply fast. I'm waiting."
"..."
Siwoo side-eyed. Hyungs stared, curiosity maxed.
"Hurry up and reply."
Siwoo shot Ho-jong hyung a sour look, then hammered keys.
"Hiding screen? Brutal!"
"C'mon... I'm dizzy, Siwoo...!"
"Raaagh!!"
Ignored the weird noises.
Siwoo froze. Honest feelings, but bolder than planned.
"Whoa, he's blushing."
"What'd you send?!"
"Share!"
Hyungs swarmed; Siwoo defended his screen.
Bam!
Siwoo shoved through shoulders.
"Busy now. Don't follow."
"Hey—he's bolting!"
"No escape!"
"Grab him!"
A dorm chase ensued, but the director's return ended break—and it.
Still, safe chat with Jiyeon.
Ho-jong hyung might've helped?