The Analyst Steps Up
The darkest place is under the lamp. Since Quadra Ground was a criminal organization that couldn't be dealt with immediately anyway, I set the matter aside for now. Lately, we'd been running internal 4v4 scrims, searching for any top laner who might at least serve as a temporary measure for the upcoming scrim against ZX. However, from raw skill to game sense and role proficiency, even the second-string, third-string, and prospects all fell short. It was clear why they'd remained stuck at their current level despite the league's early days—and just how little my sister had managed the team.
'She promised to start managing things properly from now on, so I'll let it slide. If she'd kept neglecting the team like this, even my sister wouldn't have been safe.'
Having transformed her appearance far more than during her last visit to the stadium, my sister had taken on the role of coach under her new identity. This issue would improve in time. Still, the top laners I'd thought would be decent were performing far worse than expected, leaving me thoroughly unsatisfied overall.
While Kim Yohan and I discussed who among the current roster might still be usable in the top lane—and considered the possibility of recruiting solo queue warriors if necessary—my eyes caught Park Seongjun patiently explaining top lane details and macro to one of the more promising third-string tops.
"Or maybe Park S—"
Just as I was about to suggest Park Seongjun to Kim Yohan, an unexpected problem arose.
'Calling him by his first name feels too casual, but calling him "Seongjun oppa" is even worse. What am I supposed to call Park Seongjun...?'
"...Sorry? Who?"
Kim Yohan asked me to repeat myself after I'd hastily glossed over the name.
"Ah, um... Right. What do you think about the analyst?"
After a moment's deliberation, I decided to refer to Park Seongjun as "the analyst" and Kim Yohan as "Coach" for the time being.
...Well, what if Park Seongjun ends up securing the top lane spot, or Han Seongkwang joins as support? What then? Future me would handle that.
"Oh, right. Seongjun was here. Why didn't I think of him sooner...? Should we try him out right now?"
Yeah. Come to think of it, there were cases in my past life of mid laners switching to jungle, and even among the current mid laners and supports, some had been junglers in my memories. There was no reason a top laner couldn't do the same.
"Got it. I'll go ask him."
The moment I appeared behind them, Park Seongjun—who'd been explaining with a hint of frustration—froze on the spot.
"Analyst?"
"Uh... Yes..."
...After I snapped at him during the Saintess Weight Gain Project, I thought he'd be terrified of me. Apparently not. Park Seongjun's face was turning so red it looked ready to burst.
"Ha... Seriously, why are you like this?"
"Th-that's... It's a bit difficult to say. But if the Saintess truly wishes to know..."
...Never mind. I don't need to hear it.
"Forget it. Would you consider playing top lane yourself, Analyst?"
"Pardon...? Me?"
Park Seongjun looked visibly flustered by the sudden offer of the top laner position.
"Yes, you, Analyst. Right now."
"Right now...?"
"Don't want to?"
"No! I'll do it immediately!"
At my words, he dashed straight for the capsule and began urging me to start the scrim right away. After a few games together, he seemed to be adapting—albeit gradually—to the faster tempo of macro that the other tops hadn't been able to follow at all.
'Even his Paladin proficiency is top-tier among pros...?'
While I felt a mix of pride and joy at the unexpected results, another thought crossed my mind about the current era.
'Now that I think about it, in these early days of the league—including our own team—most organizations seem to prioritize individual skill and performance over macro understanding when scouting. That must be why finding a suitable top laner has been so difficult.'
Even against the rapid tempo that other tops had failed to grasp after weeks, Park Seongjun's superior game sense allowed him to adapt bit by bit. It gave me a rough idea of how other teams approached their scouting.
'Even ZX, the current number one team, feels overwhelmingly strong in raw power rather than exceptional macro.'
Of course, with three to four years of the game under their belts, top players would have basic macro skills. But what I was aiming for was the kind of play that constantly applied psychological pressure and seized every ounce of initiative. Perhaps that was why Hades had found our matchup interesting.
'In that sense, Han Seongkwang's unique positioning sense and creative playstyle would pair perfectly with SC's lightning-fast tempo.'
Of course, that was just potential. Right now, the most urgent task was syncing the mid laner's tempo with the support's. Due to the game's design, top laners and AD carries were more about raw power and teamfight execution than deep macro involvement, so they couldn't engage with macro as intricately.
'So as long as they have basic macro understanding, they can keep up relatively easily in a league without such intense macro play.'
If the mid laner and support could clearly align on their macro philosophy, the first season might turn out easier than expected. Especially if the support began actively leading macro plays, the top laner and AD carry would naturally accumulate foundational knowledge and grow. Since the AD carry had to lane with the support, practicing together with Han Seongkwang wasn't optional—it was essential.
'I really need to play some games with Han Seongkwang as soon as possible.'
Of course, he was still bound by contract to ZX, so I couldn't immediately bring him in as STD's support. But I hadn't casually offered to scrim against Hades for no reason. While the scrim would let us gain experience, the most important benefit was the chance to borrow Han Seongkwang—even just for the scrim—from ZX's eight-man roster. This way, we could legally practice synergy with him while also providing the opponent with the scrim data they wanted. A perfect win-win.
Perhaps because ZX had always scrimmed by splitting their eight players into 4v4 teams, they handed Han Seongkwang over more easily than expected. Since we'd already discussed it beforehand, he joined without much surprise.
> ZX Hades: Please prepare your draft with the compositions you're most confident in.
> STD Oracle: Understood.
The most confident composition, huh...
...Then it's time to bring out the mid Priest after so long.
The reason I hadn't easily picked mid Priest in Celestial solo queue was because its strengths didn't align with the solo queue environment. The Priest's advantages lay in late-game value, defending against enemy engages, and 1v1 dueling power when allies were busy elsewhere. In solo queue, real-time coordination with teammates to precisely design teamfights was impossible, and since speed was everything, games had to end quickly—win or lose—so the next match could begin. Jobs perceived as "only good late" like the Priest tended to tank team morale before the game even started.
But scrims were different. Both sides communicated smoothly with their teammates to design the game, and gathering usable data mattered far more than rushing to end the match. Coincidentally, the opponent—who didn't know about the mid Priest pick—had banned the Pirate, one of the current top-tier picks. With the Pirate (the counter to buff-based jobs like Paladin, Priest, and Commander) removed, the Priest's value rose even higher.
'This might actually work.'
If we banned assassins and prevented the opponent from snowballing early while still threatening us into the late game, things looked promising. Once we banned the Assassin, the opponent immediately picked the Ninja instead. True to their reputation of fielding three mid laners, they began picking rogue-type jobs. When we responded by picking the Paladin and Outlaw to build resistance against their engages, they immediately took the Commander, seemingly aiming for a Ninja + Commander poke composition.
'Their draft is pretty sharp.'
However, with the Commander already taken as support, the chance of them picking the Priest for support was virtually nonexistent. Since the variable of the Priest going to the opponent had disappeared, we could keep the mid Priest hidden until the end. We picked the Rune Mage third, bluffing as if it were our mid laner. The opponent, unable to consider a support Rune Mage, finished their draft with the Wraith Knight in the top lane for their third pick and the Starlight Archer as AD carry for their fourth—completing a composition that looked solid from frontline to damage and from crowd control to lane priority.
They were probably excited at the thought of chipping away at our health during every teamfight standoff with their seemingly perfect poke composition. But the moment the Priest—the king of sustain—appeared in our fourth pick, the unfavorable matchup flipped in an instant.