So Annoying

KZ had already taken the first two rounds for a 2–0, but there was a reason people said the real match was only just beginning.

In Project A, things don't truly start until both teams are sitting on an average of 3,900 credits or more—the full-buy rounds, when rifles like the AK and the M4 finally come out. There are simply more rifle rounds than pistol or SMG rounds, so winning the AR fight is its own crucial skill.

This round, KZ was on a bonus. Only PEST, who had saved the round before, bought an AK; everyone else was reusing the guns they already owned. BLB had saved as well, which meant they were on a full buy, every player holding an AK or an M4. For KZ, a win would be a jackpot, and even a loss paid off if they dropped two or three. For BLB, round three was a round they had to take clean, with nothing wasted.

"BLB's playing this like a gamble, aren't they?"

From the defense's side, the spots that actually mattered were A Main, Art, mid doors, and B Main. Four of them. BLB left nothing on mid doors but a Killjoy alarmbot, then stacked three players on A and two in Art—an all-in on A.

KZ had no way of knowing that, and once again the round collapsed into pistol-round chaos on a single site.

First contact came on A Main. The moment Sova died, Astra peeked and traded the Yoru.

"Huh? Moko's angle is disgusting."

After dropping Jett and KAY/O, BLB seemed to forget where Snake was for a second. In the pro scene, a mistake like that is fatal.

"Wow... Moko just popped off."

I had never once seen Moko lose an aim duel where he was simply waiting for the peek. If anyone on KZ played the eldest—the steadiest player we had—it was MOKO.

Oh. Right. Lately the whole oppa-versus-hyung thing had people looking at me like I was strange. The last time my brother barged onto the stream and I called him hyung, chat completely lost it. Luckily, on the broadcast where I cleared up the alt-account rumors, I went so far as to show the gender digit on my resident ID, so the "she's faking her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gender online" discourse never got off the ground. And now I wasn't even allowed to call a hyung a hyung. What was I, Hong Gildong?

"Just let it go. Why does that even matter?"

What a pain.

"Fine. Moko-oppa, Moko-oppa, Moko-oppa. Happy now?"

The word oppa was still awkward in my mouth. Calling a hyung I'd been as close to as family oppa made my face burn for no good reason.

"No."

Partly to cool the heat in my face, I took a huge bite of mint-chocolate ice cream. Nom. Still delicious.

The cool, sweet scent of mint chocolate filled my mouth and carried the embarrassment right off with it. Come to think of it, streamers always did this during a mukbang. Maybe I should try it too. I loaded the spoon, then held it up where the camera could see it clearly.

"Here. Want a bite?"

Damn it. I actually tried, and the reactions were way too much. Fine. Whatever.

Anyway, Moko's superplay flipped a 2v4 into a 2v2 in a single breath. RP, the other one still alive, had already scooped a rifle off the ground, so the gun disadvantage was gone.

Now that KZ knew it was an A all-in, they refused to fight the enemy where the enemy was waiting.

With six seconds left on the clock, the bomb went down on B. Moko tucked into back site. RP held B Main. A crossfire. If BLB wanted the defuse, they would have to walk through both of them.

KZ kept grinding them down, one player holding while the other peeked, over and over. The timing was close to perfect. BLB lost a round they absolutely could not lose, and they lost it from a massively winning position.

"Wow. This game just exploded."

Between the economy and the morale hit, BLB's mental had every reason to turn to powder. They managed a few counterpunches, but the first set still ended in a rout, 13–3 for KZ. It was a one-sided game, and the result bled straight into the second. On Ascent, the second map, BLB folded without a fight. A dominant 2–0 for KZ.

"...They're a lot scarier than I thought."

KZ looked even stronger than they had in my time. The tactics and the team play were the same as ever, while Foxy—the main entry filling the hole I'd left—had been outstanding. I used to be a pro who ran on nothing but competitive fire, but I didn't feel jealous of him. Like I said before, all I felt toward Foxy was gratitude. Gratitude that he'd taken my place, and that because of him KZ was still Asia's hope, still the strongest team on the continent. And maybe, just maybe, he would be the one to win an international title in my stead. So I was sending him thanks and expectation at the same time. A kind of cheer from a senior who had failed, offered to the junior who now held her spot.

"Still, that ended way faster than I expected."

Honestly, I'd thought KZ would take it 2–1. It was 2–0 instead, which meant the stream had wrapped up a full hour earlier than I'd planned.

"Hmm... Project A?"

Honestly, I wanted to play it too. Watch a tournament and the itch gets unbearable.

"Sure. Just a game or two. Nothing serious."

"But it's the middle of the night, so I'm keeping my voice as quiet as I can."

If I started yelling and woke the family, that would be a real nuisance. Worse, I could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠get caught streaming before I'd even finished growing. My brother had found out because there was no avoiding it. I still wanted the fact that I was streaming kept secret.

"Oh, this?"

In Project A you can buy a skin for every gun and equip it. Each one changes the gunshot, the finisher, the kill sound, so people wear whatever suits them. It's easy to think a skin isn't something you actually need, but plenty of players say that once they're used to one, switching back to the default throws their aim off and the gun stops landing. Just as many swear the opposite—that the bullets start connecting the moment they put a skin on. I liked the Oni line best, the one designed after the Japanese oni. Going from the Oni M4 back to a default M4 felt all wrong. But what could I do?

"My dad hates spending money on games."

Until I became a pro, I only ever used defaults. Once the game was my job, he told me that money I earned was mine, and I could spend it however I liked. I didn't even know how much was on this debit card. If I hadn't earned it myself, I had no intention of spending it however I pleased.

"Oh! YY, thank you for the ten thousand!"

I... hadn't even been trying to bait a donation. Thinking about it, though, the tips piled up from all this chatting might come to a decent amount once they paid out. Donations settled at the end of the month. It wouldn't hurt to check then.

"What about me is a fox? These people call me a fox every time I open my mouth... I'm just going to play."

How many times had I said it, and they were on that again.

"I told you. On my stream, you talk to me."

Why did they keep bringing up other people on my stream? Annoying.

"Don't do that again. I'm playing."

Even so, banning viewers who were precious as blood didn't sit right, so I warned them one more time and started the queue. I was taking this mood out on the other team.