Season 3: Chapter 311. Heavens Help (1)
When it was announced that Rome and Joseon would face each other, anyone with even a little knowledge of Civil Empire would have never predicted a victory for Joseon. This sentiment was especially shared globally during the preliminaries.
“Joseon? Against Rome? How unfortunate.”
“Of course, it’s Rome... What else is there to say?”
“If they’re facing off in the preliminaries and it’s a single match... Still, it’s gotta be Rome, right?”
Unfortunately, their predictions were entirely correct. Even though Joseon made waves as an underdog in the preliminaries, they didn’t win a single game against Rome. At the time, public criticism focused more on Spain and the French than on Joseon. People argued that Joseon didn’t perform well, but the other two teams were utterly incompetent.
“Spain? They’re just all talk. Nothing special.”
“‘Invincible Armada? Didn’t those British islanders always crush them? Guess you can’t change your roots! Hahaha!”
“As for the French, maybe they should just stop competing in the preliminaries altogether.”
No one realized that Joseon was simply too strong. In games, everything was relative, making it hard to evaluate teams based on just a few matches.
In soccer, for example, Korea often excelled when they played against China but crumbled against European powerhouses. Esports amplified this effect. In soccer, scoring a goal reset the situation to the starting point, but that was not the case in games.
Games had a snowball effect where a small victory led to more significant advantages, eventually snowballing into an avalanche. Civil Empire was no exception to this effect. Winning a battle and securing resources allowed a team to pressure their opponent further. This led to securing additional resources and applying even more pressure.
In soccer terms, it would be like the opposing team constantly camping in the penalty box and taking shot after shot. Even minor skill gaps could lead to massive disparities in esports. In other words, how well one played mattered, but how poorly one's opponent performed could be equally critical.
Most viewers didn’t notice this dynamic. They believed that Spain and the French simply underperformed. However, Joseon went on to defeat the Vikings, Persia, and even Japan. Then, they faced China, the third-ranked team in the world, and crushed them 3-0. That was when perspectives started to shift.
“Wait, 3-0?”
Everyone understood the significance of a 3-0 score in this game. If China had been even slightly better than Joseon, they would have won at least one game. That was the nature of RTS games, but the result was 3-0. China didn’t win a single game against Joseon and had been utterly dominated.
“What’s going on here?”
“So... was Joseon this strong all along?”
“Does this mean Spain and France weren’t to blame?”
This served as a moment of vindication for the teams that previously lost to Joseon.
“We’re not the problem!”
“Yeah! Joseon made it to the finals!”
Every team that lost to Joseon had faced intense backlash from their home fans. Spain, France, the Vikings, and Persia had all been expected to defeat Joseon. Now, the truth was out.
China was the third strongest team globally and had been undefeated until they faced Joseon. While many believed that China benefited from favorable matchups, no one included Joseon in that assessment. And yet, China suffered a complete defeat.
“So... is Joseon actually a strong team?”
Only then did gamers worldwide begin to recognize the reality.
“No... it’s not that. Joseon is getting stronger.”
Joseon was becoming increasingly formidable. They had reached the finals and could genuinely compete against Rome. When Joseon secured their first win against Rome in the finals—
“WOOOOOOOAAAAHHHH!!!”
Spectators in Joseon’s section leaped to their feet and cheered. Among them were players from teams that Joseon previously defeated: Spain’s Uno, Tres, and Nacho, the French leaders, the Viking player Jesse, and even Japan’s commander Ringo. They all cheered in unison.
“Joseon is amazing!”
“They’re incredible! Wow!”
“Joseon is so strong. Nobody can beat them!”
Of course, one of them had a slightly more personal take.
“Mom! When I grow up, I want to marry Almond!”
While her unusual chant would have distracted the other players briefly, they quickly returned to their excitement over Joseon’s victory. For them, Joseon’s win against Rome in the first game of the finals was nothing short of salvation.
‘We’re safe.’
‘We don’t have to swim back home...’
‘Damn, we almost got bullied at our home game!’
***
Even in the commentary booth, the excitement over the first game hadn’t settled.
“Ahhh, when Joseon defeated China 3-0, I thought maybe... just maybe...”
“Exactly! Before that, everyone assumed they’d lose to China!”
“Right! But a 3-0 victory against China? That’s not something just any team can achieve. Only a team capable of challenging Rome could pull that off!!”
— Truly inspiring.
— There was hope starting from there.
— Amazing.
— They won the first game, legendary.
— Map luck was on their side.
“So, we wondered if Joseon could really take on Rome? And that maybe just turned into a yes! in the best way possible!!”
“Yes! Joseon is now leading Rome 1-0 in the finals! The match itself was incredible. Cookie’s strategies were on full display!”
“Absolutely. And look, the ace highlights are being replayed!”
The screen showed highlights of Almond’s sniper shot against the priest, Pierre’s tower capture, and Almond and Pang’s counterplay.
“Wow, they kept turning the game upside down! It was intense!”
“And we just found out from the replay—Almond wasn’t even looking when he shot that arrow!?”
When Pierre and his ally captured the defensive tower, Almond fired an arrow at them while hanging from a ladder. From Almond’s perspective, all he could see was the underside of the tower roof. It was impossible to pinpoint the soldiers’ positions.
— Wait, what?
— LOL, was that pure luck?
— No way.
— Seriously?
— Just a whatever happens shot?
“How do you even explain this, OrangeKing?!”
“In America, they call this...”
“What?”
“‘God bless you.’”
It was a shot that could only be attributed to luck.
— LOL
— Luck is a skill, apparently.
— Victory goddess is female, so... Almond gets her favor.
— Beautiful.
With Pang’s 180-degree curved shot added to the mix, the two had pulled off a miraculous double takedown.
“A simultaneous double takedown... What an unbelievable scene!”
“I have to say, Pang’s curved shot... was moving.”
The caster, a loyal viewer of the Fake National Team series, recognized the significance.
“That curved shot... back when Pang struggled with it, he’d constantly hit himself during practice!”
“Exactly.”
“And now, that same shot just took out the enemy ace!”
— LOL
— So emotional.
— Amazing.
— Truly a master of romance.
When Almond climbed back onto the tower, he mimicked slicing his neck as part of his celebration. The highlight reel didn’t capture the audio, so the caster speculated.
“That neck slash gesture... I’ve never seen it before. What do you think it means?”
— LOL, what is that?
— Murder warning?
— Cheeky?
Without audio, it was unclear.
“Not sure? Maybe we’ll find out off the record. It seems like he’s just saying, ‘I took someone down.’”
Even OrangeKing found it odd. Almond wasn’t one to celebrate after killing a single soldier. Unless it was a high-value target...
“Ah, I see. A no-look shot deserves a celebration! Alright, everyone, we’ll take a break and return for game two!”
The commentators took a short break as highlights replayed on the screen. Spectators headed to the restrooms, bought snacks, or picked up additional cheering items.
One middle-aged man, however, remained seated and staring at the screen. Although seated in Joseon’s section, his expression wasn’t one of joy or excitement. He simply gazed at the screen as if suppressing complex tumultuous emotions.
***
Outside the stadium, vendors capitalized on the excitement.
“Get your exclusive cheering goods today! These are once-in-a-lifetime items. If Joseon wins, the value will skyrocket!”
Ju-Hyeok, one of the vendors, called out enthusiastically to showcase various merchandise.
“... Huh?”
His eyes widened in surprise as he noticed someone standing in front of his stall. Instinctively, he stepped back.
‘Wait... isn’t that... him?’
The man before him didn’t know Ju-Hyeok, but Ju-Hyeok recognized him immediately. He was a foreigner who seemed to live life on his own terms. The man was Tres, the Spanish team’s vice commander. Behind him were Uno and Nacho. Although Ju-Hyeok wasn’t fluent in Spanish, he could catch bits of their conversation.
“Are you seriously buying this, Tres?”
Uno, a relatively composed man, clicked his tongue and teased Tres.
“What else can we do? Look, if Joseon wins, it helps us too.”
Ignoring the mockery, Tres pointed to an item on display. It was a custom hoodie featuring the words: I Wanna Be Almond.
“Large?”
Ju-Hyeok confirmed the size.
“Large. Large.”
Tres bought the hoodie and put it on immediately.
“Ahem. You should get something too.”
He zipped the hoodie up, covering his face entirely. Then, he headed back toward the spectator stands. Nacho, amused, picked up a cookie shaped hat resembling a sombrero. Uno, however, stood silently and stared at the stall with a complicated expression.
‘Why’s he just standing there?’
Feeling uneasy, Ju-Hyeok avoided his gaze.
“How much is this?”
Uno finally broke his silence and tapped on an item.
“...?”
It was a carrot shaped clapper balloon with an over-the-top design and a jingling bell at the bottom. For a moment, Ju-Hyeok didn’t know how to respond. Still, Uno tossed some cash onto the counter and walked off with the clapper balloon in hand.
“...?”
Did Uno actually like the carrot design? It made more sense than liking Almond, but Ju-Hyeok couldn’t shake the odd feeling. The sight of Uno, Tres, and Nacho lingered on his mind even as he returned to other customers. Especially Uno’s blushing face as he grabbed the carrot balloon. Ju-Hyeok found himself chuckling at the thought.
‘Could I get more unique customers than them?’
As the saying went, there was always a bigger mountain to climb.
Moments later, Ju-Hyeok encountered a customer who would make the Spanish team seem ordinary in comparison. This customer looked noticeably older and hadn’t come from the spectator stands but from the ticketing area.
Even from a distance, Ju-Hyeok felt a strange sensation like watching a mirror reflecting an aged version of himself. The man had a large frame, sharp eyes, and a jawline that carried the weight of many years.
‘Father...’
Indeed, the man standing before him was his father.
“Ju-Hyeok! It’s been so long!”
Behind him, another familiar figure appeared. His ever cheerful mother waved with a bright smile. Unlike his mother’s excitement, his father seemed reluctant and looked around disinterestedly.
Then, his father spoke curtly, “What’s the most popular item here? Hand it over.”
“...”
Ju-Hyeok hesitated to answer.
“... Dad, this stuff... might not be suitable for you.”
No matter how much of a troublemaker he was, there was no way he could sell his father an I Wanna Be Almond hoodie.