Season 3: Chapter 101: Release (2)
The shock of the defeat against Rome was stronger than expected, especially for the think tank members responsible for devising the strategies.
Knock. Knock.
"Bro, aren't you eating?" WaterDumpling knocked on the door and asked.
Chi-Seung was still shut away in his room.
"… Ah, yeah. You guys go ahead and eat," Chi-Seung said in a listless voice and lay on the makeshift bed in the corner of the room.
Creak... Creak...
As he tossed and turned, the bed sounded like rusty metal grinding. Despite that, he found this bed comfortable. When new strategies came to mind, he would excitedly discuss them all night with his friends here and fall asleep in this bed.
When he woke up in the morning, he felt exceptionally refreshed. Pang would look at Chi-Seung and joke that he was an aged rascal, claiming that Chi-Seung would end up with a slipped disc if he spent one more day in this bed.
For Chi-Seung, it was a comfortable nest. Even when he felt anxious, lying in this bed brought him a sense of stability.
He lay in bed, pulled the blanket over his head, and turned on his cellphone. Out of habit, he opened Embul.
'Ah.'
He quickly realized that was a bad idea. Looking at the community after today's crushing defeat was almost like committing mental suicide.
Chi-Seung knew this well after having experienced several national competitions. However...
'Huh?'
Chi-Seung thought he saw something unexpected from the lingering afterimage. It was just a feeling, but something was definitely...
'It’s different.'
The community atmosphere seemed different from what he had expected.
He entered Embul again. Sure, he could handle any negative comments if he just braced himself.
Chi-Seung made a mental note and scrolled down to find what he had seen earlier.
'It's not a misconception...'
As he scrolled down, he realized it.
1. They still fought well!
2. Regrettable but... can't deny the performance was epic this time
3. Anto did well, it's not that Cookie did poorly
It wasn't a misconception. This was not the atmosphere of a community that had just lost a game. Even though Embul was known for being gentle, it was still fundamentally an internet community. These people knew how to pour out all sorts of venom with a laugh when provoked, especially since they knew a lot about Civil Empire. They could always insult properly and hit right to the bone. R𝐚𐌽óβĚs
'It's different from last time, isn't it?'
Chi-Seung recalled the posts that came up during last year's national competition when they kept losing and were eliminated in the preliminaries. Even if he tried not to enter, he couldn’t look at Embul for three months while playing Civil Empire. Yes, users cursed him out for three entire months on Embul!
'Why is it different now?'
This time, everyone reacted completely differently to their defeat.
Chi-Seung couldn't exactly pinpoint why. Was it because they performed relatively well this time? Last year wasn't a total defeat for Korea either. They just didn't make it past the preliminaries. The same thing could happen again for Korea if things went wrong this time, especially since Spain won against France. That put the pressure back on Korea.
'Anyway...'
Chi-Seung quietly scrolled down and read the comments that people had written. He half-expected bait posts that would start with, “Is that what you really thought?!”and then go on to brutally attack them with facts.
'Thank god.'
None of that happened.
Most of the comments were supportive.
— Let's really try this time!
— I can see everyone's skills have improved, impressive even while focusing on their main jobs.
— Real Kimchi Warriors, let’s goooo!
— Seeing the Fake National Team makes it hard to roast them too much LOL.
└ Really…
└ Me too LOL.
— Chi-Seung, let's just do one part-time job next year~
└ Let's dive into part-time hell ads!
Chi-Seung lay there for a while, browsing the community. Eventually, he got up from the bed. He wiped the corners of his eyes and shook off the emotions from earlier.
"I was wrong..."
He approached the installed camera.
"Many others thought we could win too. Just like this."
He held up the phone screen to the camera.
"Thank you."
He wanted to get rid of the camera earlier, but now he bowed deeply to it.
***
On the day of their defeat, Hui-Chul postponed the meeting with the think tank team until the next day. It was rare for Hui-Chul to delay a strategy meeting due to a defeat, so everyone felt puzzled.
Hui-Chul brushed it off, saying everyone needed to take good care of their minds.
However, he had to go straight to the hospital that day. He couldn’t avoid going to hospitals while living with a chronic illness and had become quite adept at making excuses.
The next day, Hui-Chul returned to his usual self and left the hospital.
Only his partner, who supported him, knew the truth. She no longer told Hui-Chul not to overdo it. Loving what he loved and helping him achieve what he wanted could be the only way to treat his illness.
"I saw this in a drama. A high school chemistry teacher who was dying shouted, 'Screw it! It's my last!' and jumped into the drug-making world to make all the money he wanted."
"… Drugs?"
"Listen. That teacher wanted to secure a lifetime of money for his family. He didn't know what would happen if he was gone."
"Ah ha."
"And since he was going to die soon, becoming a criminal didn't matter to him."
"That's... true."
"But you know what's funny? Turns out that person... was absolutely perfect for the job. He was too good at making it."
"Ha...? Making drugs?"
"Yes. He completely blew up in that industry. Eventually, he was competing for the top spot... and surprisingly, his illness was cured in the meantime."
"…?"
Hui-Chul smirked and shook his head, saying that was absurd.
She nodded, but her words were the exact opposite.
"It's a drama, but there are really people like that. They say mental illnesses are that scary."
Hui-Chul couldn’t say anything. She didn't make him speak either.
After reaching the destination, she dropped him off in front of the team base.
"Have a good trip. Maybe it’ll cure your mental illness, who knows."
"… Yeah."
Hui-Chul struggled to speak. Every time he returned from the hospital, it was like that. It didn't seem like anything he could say would be comforting.
"Ah... that..."
He tried to change the subject, wanting to see her for a little longer.
"I know. The manager of store one can't come today, right? I remember."
"That's not it."
"?"
"We have a camera in the car. Just in case."
"I remember that too. How's the documentary going?"
"Um. I haven't seen the video yet, but I heard it's getting a lot of views."
"Hm? You haven't shown it to me and you haven't seen it either?"
"It's... kind of embarrassing."
“Pfft,” she laughed at Hui-Chul's typical behavior.
"I'll watch it later too."
The door closed and the steering wheel turned on its own as she left.
'Later...?'
Hui-Chul suddenly realized something. There was a meaning to filming this documentary that he hadn't thought of before.
'Later, you'll still be able to see me.'
Even if he wasn’t there anymore.
***
Late winter was slowly approaching. The frozen air began to thaw. Even in the highlands of the slums, warm winds occasionally blew as if spring peered in to say hello prematurely.
Click.
Sang-Hyeon stretched after coming down the steps of the slums. He went out to exercise early in the morning for the first time in a while. He usually paused this routine in the winter, but his body began to itch for some movement again as winter neared its end.
"Ooooooh...!"
He stretched quite loudly.
A few passersby looked at him, but Sang-Hyeon was used to it and paid them no mind. It was risky to run in this weather without sweating a bit first. Even for someone who used to be an athlete, it wasn't easy to run from here to the park at Sang-Hyeon's pace.
'Today, I should control my pace a bit.'
It was his first run in a while. The weather was still chilly, so he resolved to run moderately. There was another crucial reason.
"Oooooh... Hey. If I run now, won't I just freeze solid?"
A man appeared, backlit by the peeping sunlight. He rubbed his hands together while shivering.
"You can't even see your own breath. Why the fuss?"
Sang-Hyeon didn't indulge him and turned around.
"If I wait until I can see my breath, I wouldn't know if it's my breath or my soul coming out. What's all this fuss about seeing my breath?"
"You said you would come."
It was Pang, a person who really didn't fit the image of morning exercise. Ever since they played a game of basketball, he wanted to exercise together and improve his fitness.
"Hello."
Then, a broadcast writer and a cameraman also appeared.
"We heard you were exercising in the morning, so we thought it would be good to film it."
They planned to film them while riding scooters.
"Really? Can you do it?" Sang-Hyeon asked Pang.
Sang-Hyeon was ready to mock him at any sign of failure.
"Of course! Let's go."
"Don't expect any mercy."
"What, what?! Who's asking for mercy!? Just run like hell if you don't want to lose to me!"
“Pfft.”
Sang-Hyeon knew why Pang wanted to exercise together.
“How can you shoot so well, huh?”
After acknowledging Sang-Hyeon, Pang always asked how he could shoot the bow so well. If explaining how to shoot well with words could make everyone shoot like Sang-Hyeon, then everyone would be able to do it. Obviously, there wasn't a proper way to teach it.
'I just shot all day since middle school.'
Sang-Hyeon simply practiced a lot and loved doing it. Coincidentally, it was also the only way out of his life in poverty.
He had never questioned shooting a bow. He just got up every day and shot after school, after meals, and before going to bed.
Now, telling Pang to do that would be impossible. Age couldn't be ignored.
Pang suddenly wanted to exercise together after listening to him. He probably thought about copying everything that Sang-Hyeon did.
It was a foolish method, but Sang-Hyeon would have done the same if he had a senior who shot well. He would even copy how the senior sat in a chair, so he understood that feeling.
"Ugh...! Hah! Hey! Hey!"
Of course, understanding Pang’s feelings didn't mean he would slow down to match Pang’s pace.
Pang was dying far behind him.
"I'm thirty-five years old, kid! Slow down!"
"Messi won the World Cup at thirty-five~."
"Me, Messi, crazy... I, I supported Mbappé, you brat... Haaah...!"
Vroom.
The cameraman riding the scooter brought the camera closer.
"Are you struggling, Mr. Pang!?"
"Cr, crazy, asking that... Huff...! Don’t you see!?"
"Why are you running? Do you want to be like Almond? Running won't make you him!"
"You, you curse... Huff...!"
A few days later, Korea and France faced each other again.
[The Fake National Team ep2. Release.]
The second video of the Fake National Team was also uploaded on Almond's channel.