Event Match (Reality)
"Oh, Eunha. We meet again."
"Ah, hyung. You're here?"
We had been talking about Zzangdol and BS when another welcome face turned up.
"Oldboy!"
It was Oldboy, who had been on the same team as us in the showmatch. Zzangdol had already told me he was invited, so I wasn't especially surprised.
"Youngest and Oldest, back together like this. Would've been nice if Seongun and Hanbyeol were here too..."
"Yeah. What can you do? They already went pro."
Oldboy and Zzangdol had gotten to know each other during the showmatch, but strictly speaking they weren't close. The awkward sort of relationship where you call now and then, or trade a text.
Unlike the other teammates, who had kept up a steady run of joint streams, I hadn't collabed with anyone. A lot of that was simply the schedule. Between the Newbie Guide shoot and the rank-1 race, I hadn't been in any position to duo. On stream, too, I never touched a game that wasn't Project A.
"Oh, right. Seongun hasn't been picking up at all lately. How about you, hyung?"
"Same here. Must be busy with practice. What about you, Eunha?"
"Huh? Me?"
The two of them were looking at me with a very peculiar light in their eyes. They had to be thinking of that rumor going around out there. The one that said Han Seongun and I were... that kind of thing.
"He doesn't answer me either. Why would I be any different?"
It wasn't what they wanted to hear, but there was nothing to be done about it. We really weren't anything. And I had no reason to hide it, so I told them the truth. Lately he had been leaving my texts on read. Even when his team was dropping match after match he used to send at least a short reply, and I didn't dig too hard into why he'd suddenly stopped. He probably had his reasons.
"Hmm..."
"Mm-hm."
They studied me with frankly suspicious eyes, while Driver Kwon nodded as if to say well, of course that's how it should be.What is with these people?
While the three of us—no, the four—were still bantering, a middle-aged man who looked like the person in charge of the whole event appeared.
How did I know he was in charge? I was pretty sure I'd seen that face a few times. In my past life.
"Broadcasters competing in the event match! Could you gather over here for a moment?"
My memory isn't good enough to hold every staffer's face, so if I remembered him, he was someone I'd seen often. And seeing him often meant...
"Hello. I'm Hwang Insu, and I'll be running this event match. Thank you all in advance."
...he sat fairly high up at Rioat Korea.
"The event match is scheduled to start in one hour, and as previously planned, a new agent will be revealed during the match."
"Ooh..."
Someone might ask what the fuss was over a single agent, but a new agent in Project A changes more things than you can count. Even Harbor, the most recent one, had paired with Snake to invent that insane Harbor-Snake comp.
A game that doesn't change stagnates, and then it rots. Every little shift like this remakes the game and hands players who have grown used to the old one something new to enjoy. Change has to come with the territory. And I was glad of it.
"The event match will be a single game, on Ascent, the map that received the most viewer votes. The two captains will draft the teams. After our discussion, the captains will be Eunha and BS... uh. BS?"
Only then did the staffer register that BS was missing. Flustered, he turned and spoke with a staff member beside him.
They kept it to a whisper we weren't meant to hear, but I could guess the shape of it well enough. Didn't you say everyone was already here? I checked them all. Where did he go all of a sudden... Something like that.
At this rate the director and his staff were going to be stuck in an endless loop of apologies. Then—
"I-I'm here! Sorry!"
Fortunately, BS was back almost at once.
"Whew. Thank goodness. Let me explain again. The captains are Eunha and BS, and the two of you can discuss and pick your teammates. This match is entertainment first, so I'll trust you to balance it yourselves."
"M-me and Eunha are the captains?"
"Yes. You two are the highest-rated players here."
"So Eunha is my opponent?"
"Yes?"
"Why?"
"...Yes?"
BS was all but openly trying to avoid me.
A little stung, honestly. I'd thought he was all right.
By the time we had gone through the format, the entrance order, and the rehearsal, a full hour had slipped past.
The big monitor in the waiting room gave us the whole arena at a glance, and the place was packed with people who had come for the final and the event match.
"Wow... there are so many people."
Every one of those seats was full. And this was PCK Park, bigger than most sports stadiums. For the final they even remodel the building on a temporary basis so they can pack in still more of a crowd. You could feel the heat coming off Project A.
"Once the opening show ends, come out of the waiting room when you're called. Just do it the way we rehearsed!"
"Okay."
We waited a few minutes. The arena, which had been nothing but a low murmur, went quiet all at once.
The lights that had been flooding the floor switched off. Like a theater going dark before the movie starts, the arena—
"Oh. It's starting."
The performances that would open the final, a lineup of singers famous around the world, were polished enough that you couldn't tell whether this was a world-tour stop or an esports final. The show got better every year. You could feel Rioat growing. They had to be making a fortune.
Most of the broadcasters in the waiting room had both eyes locked on the monitor. I was no different. I wasn't the type to go out of my way to see a show like that, but I didn't dislike them either.
"All right, everyone start getting ready."
"Okay."
The performance wasn't over, but those of us who had to be on the floor needed to move early. The show wasn't for us in the first place. It was for the crowd that had come to watch the match.
Most of the broadcasters gave the monitor one regretful glance and filed out of the waiting room.
"Shall we go too?"
"Yes."
I asked whether Driver Kwon could come with us, and they allowed it without a fuss. Good thing they had a little discretion.
On the official channel carrying the 2023 PCK final, the clock at last pointed to 2 p.m. It was time.
This year's unusually staged PCK LOCK//IN had pushed every domestic-league date back, and most regions had crammed their leagues through at a brutal pace to clear the calendar for Champions, the world championship waiting in the winter.
It still wasn't time for the final itself. An event match had been set before it.
Ten broadcasters, an appetizer laid out to warm the crowd before the final.
Eunha walked out with the casters' call.
The moment the casters spoke those two syllables, the crowd erupted. This was supposed to be the final, and yet the stands looked as if they had been waiting harder for the appetizer. A strange sight.
Eunha came quietly onto the floor. In her past life she must have walked a path like this hundreds of times as a pro, but the steps she was taking now felt unbearably awkward. The cheers never let up, and she couldn't get her head around them.
Eunha herself probably didn't know it, but women made up a considerable share of her fans.
If she had been nothing more than a beautiful streamer, it might have been different. She had more than enough for female fans to fall for. A generous dose of doe-eyed charm, how young she was, a personality so unstudied that cute came out of people on its own. And then, in game, she was a genuine talent, flashy enough to pull a gasp out of anyone watching. There was no way not to like her.
If a male fan had shouted that, the mascot with the handcuffs would have been on him at once. A woman did it, and it played like nothing but pure fandom. Another strange little scene.
And if you asked how Eunha was taking those cheers—her face had gone bright red. Both hands over it, she was scurrying into the arena in little hurried steps.
Not that it mattered. No girl-streamer's rig, no special lighting, not even makeup, and she still had more than enough to catch every eye in the broadcast.
Only once she reached the exact center of the floor did Eunha lift the head she had been keeping bowed, and she offered the crowd an awkward little wave.
And right after that, she bolted for her seat.