The Draft

Honestly speaking.

Getting to kick back in the cyber world was something I'd been quietly hoping for all along.

Modeling work was fine and all, but wasn't lounging around at home the absolute best?

I'd gotten a taste of that leisurely downtime last year, so I'd been secretly wishing for a repeat this year too.

"So you're really not taking any more jobs?"

"Nope. Turning them all down."

The moment the angle shaped up like that, I went for it right away.

Well, I'd still have to show up for official events, but ads and photo shoots were on hold for a while.

"Coffee."

"...Noona, aren't you going to work?"

"Nope. I'm taking a break for now, so hop to it with the shuttle service."

Thanks to that, I got to flop around the house in pure comfort.

Sure, I was entering a Lel tournament, but wasn't that just another form of gaming from home?

I thought back for a moment to yesterday's major announcement.

When I broke the news to the viewers, they were plenty shocked, as expected.

Well, it wasn't like I'd ever entered a tournament before.

But with the long break this time around and the Lel tournament high still lingering in my system, I decided to give it a shot.

Anyway, since the announcement had been so sudden, there was pushback too.

"What are you even talking about the second I turn on stream?"

The chat was already a mess the moment I went live.

I'd only just hit big-server status, and now I was entering a tournament on top of it.

They were properly sulking at the thought of me going mainstream.

"Hmm."

Still, it wasn't a situation I couldn't understand at all.

People liked that unique feeling of having something just for themselves, didn't they?

And more than anything, my stream had a really high ratio of longtime viewers.

Sure, they were all only a year in, but that meant over half of my entire streaming career had been spent together.

So deep down, they were afraid their precious little neighborhood gem—known only to them—would turn into franchise location number one and change flavor.

"The tournament hasn't even started and you're already like this?"

And more than anything.

My stream had a few stray dogs hanging around.

"Quit the drama. Keep it up and I'll really ban you with the 'Haebin' or 'Yeongukno' treatment?"

How had Wayo become a 200-viewer super rookie in just one year—

Truth was, it was basically a Spirit Bomb powered by three small streamers' worth of energy.

Two of them had gone from the shadows into the sunny side, and the viewers who'd suddenly become line-crossers or toxic turrets had flocked to Wayo's stream as strays.

Maybe that was why they were so touchy about tournaments and big servers?

"Don't worry, everyone. Even if I go ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mainstream, I'll only rent the place."

Still, it wasn't like the viewers here actually hated those two.

Honestly, it felt less like they'd been kicked out and more like they'd fled the sunlight themselves.

"Anyway, participation is confirmed so good luck, and you know the draft is next week right?"

"Why?"

"Ah, yes?"

I wondered what these people were on about, and then it hit me.

They were worried this Wayo wouldn't get picked?

"Guys."

"You know all the team captains this tournament are Grandmaster-Challenger, right?"

Unlike the mineral-tier viewers.

The captains' ranks were mostly the real deal from the celestial realm of Grandmaster-Challenger.

There were even former pros among them, so their eyes for talent would be solid.

"Feel free to look forward to it."

And more than anything, I'd only sent them mad movie clips that looked insane even to me as reference footage.

Who'd be laughing when the twilight hour came—the results would tell.

"Ah, yes, go ahead."

I was overflowing with confidence, so I thumped my chest and swaggered about it.

A few days later.

At last, the long-awaited draft time arrived.

"Ahem, everyone seated?"

"No—why is it so early in the morning."

Saying that, I watched the Extinction Match opening running on the Zizizik official channel.

There, Uncle Gangseok himself was explaining the tournament.

The official name ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was the Zizizik Streamer Extinction Match.

A tournament with platform sponsorship of its own, where major streamer Gangseok had personally gathered the applicants—broadcasters of every rank mixed in, starting from former pros.

To balance the competition, they'd been cleanly sorted into five skill tiers.

S (captains), A, B, C, D.

Each S-rank captain took turns picking from those tiers.

"It's because I'm B-rank."

For the record, Wayo had landed right in the middle at B-rank.

If I'd just won my promo series I could've hit Diamond and gotten A-rank.

"Haa."

Still, better to be the head of a snake than the tail of a dragon?

No, if I had my way I'd want to be the dragon's head.

Bad team luck was my eternal regret.

In another worldline I might've been a captain myself.

Anyway....

The Extinction Match opening got underway smoothly.

Captains introduced first, game rules explained, prize money flaunted, and so on.

In the middle of it all, the prize money was bigger than expected, which surprised me.

Whoa, with that I could buy how many Doojjongku?

Anyway, once the captain intros wrapped up, it was the players' turn.

There were a lot of streamers, so they started introducing from the A-tier who'd be drafted immediately.

"What. Looks solid enough."

A-tier was packed with Diamond through Master.

Honestly, yeah, they looked pretty good.

Still, I didn't feel like I'd lose in lane or anything??

Late-game macro was another story, though.

And so the time for captains to pick their A-rank teammates passed.

After that, at last came the introduction of the B-rank heroes.

Wayo had a high tier even within B-rank, so the intro came relatively early.

"Nice."

Seeing Wayo's avatar pop up on the official broadcast gave me a strangely grand feeling.

And then the flashy plays that followed.

Mostly scenes of her toying with two or three enemies on the side lanes.

"Now that's Diamond top for you."

"Tsk."

If I hadn't dropped the promo series it would've been Diamond.

On screen, the official tournament caster and Uncle Gangseok were chatting.

Uncle Gangseok had climbed to Emerald, so he'd been placed in the same B-rank as me.

But well… wasn't he a guy who'd come up from Silver?

He'd probably get picked dead last or something.

A pity, but that was just how it went in a competitive society.

If he had complaints, the only answer was to hone his skills further and prove himself.

"Where do you think I'll end up? Team 3 still looks decent though."

"Their jungler's Challenger."

And more than anything, the first two teams had top laners as captains.

So my team would have to be Team 3, right?

Not bad at all.

I'd listened carefully to the intros earlier, so I was thinking it seemed pretty decent—when.

"Huh."

Team 3 passed on me.

Wait.

"No…."

I held back the urge to say I had the higher tier.

It could come off as putting down the streamer ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠picked instead of me.

"Hmm, uh."

Was that so…?

No, how important was top in Lel.

Even Seoul had won with a strong top as their backbone, hadn't they?

Unlike my fluster, the viewers seemed to have expected it to some degree.

Was this the ecosystem of the Extinction Match?

"Ah."

I might be getting a lower seed than I thought.

Still, it was fine. As long as I beat that Silver-origin uncle.

I still remembered it.

The way he'd completely abandoned top and only farmed jungle.

I couldn't lose to someone like that.

How could a jungler only use half the Rift.

"Next is me…."

So I watched the draft while stubbornly denying it, but.

In the end the seventh team picked Gangseok, and.

Just as Uncle Gangseok said—sounding like he was holding back a laugh—I got auto-assigned to the last team.

"….?"