Idol of the Heavenly One - vanish into fiction

“I’m not going. We can’t beat the E-sports team anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because that senior, Song Eun-gyu, is coming out.”

“Who’s that?”

“What do you even know, seriously? You don’t know Curve?”

Since there were no matches he could compete in, he’d been spending his time interacting with fans and cheering for Baek Jae-heon from afar. Out of boredom, he was planning to go watch Go Hee-min’s E-sports match, but Kwon Ji-hak stopped him, saying it wouldn’t be fun anyway. He explained that the senior named Song Eun-gyu from a senior group called Curve used to be terrible at Legend of Legendary, but after receiving coaching from Ha Jae-hyuk, a professional gamer once ranked number one, he’d gotten much better. And since that senior was competing on the opposing team, he said there was no way they would win, so it wasn’t worth going.

“How do you know they’ll lose?”

“I’m one hundred percent sure.”

“I’m still going to watch. No one else wants to?”

“No.”

“Go ahead, if you want.”

Not only Kwon Ji-hak but the other members also shook their heads, saying it wouldn’t be fun and that they weren’t going. Baek Jae-heon had just finished the archery match and was being interviewed by the MCs, so he wasn’t planning to come here either.

So, I stood up alone and headed toward the E-sports zone. In my previous life, the phrase I used most while working was, “You’ll never know which is longer or shorter until you measure them.” Back then, I truly believed in that mindset. But after being reborn, my perspective had changed a little. You really don’t know which is longer until you actually compare them. I once thought I’d study for life and live a stable, quiet existence, yet here I was now, dancing and singing as an idol in this very gymnasium.

So yes, you never know until you try.

“A complete defeat.”

But this time, that saying completely missed the mark. The idea that “you’ll never know until you compare” didn’t apply at all to this match. Our White Team, which Go Hee-min was part of, started off shaky and ended up being completely crushed by the Mint Team. The gap between them wasn’t even worth comparing.

Although it wasn’t entirely thanks to Song Eun-gyu alone, as Kwon Ji-hak had mentioned, he didn’t die even once during the entire match, and because of that, his team’s morale never faltered. He was the team’s central pillar and unquestionably the greatest contributor to their victory.

After the match ended, all the idols crowded around Song Eun-gyu and his teammates, loudly congratulating them. Cheers, laughter, and excited voices filled the gym. Everyone was caught up in the joy of victory, clapping, taking pictures, and chatting animatedly. Watching the lively scene from a distance, I soon turned my gaze toward Go Hee-min. Having suffered not just a loss but a total defeat, his shoulders seemed a bit slumped. I decided I’d go over to tease him under the pretense of comforting him, and just as I turned around—

Thud!

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Someone’s shoulder bumped into mine. Startled, I turned, and the first thing I saw was a neatly pressed suit jacket. The person was quite tall, so I naturally looked up, and—was this guy a celebrity? He was handsome enough to make me wonder.

“Oh, I should be the one apologizing.”

“No, it’s fine.”

From first glance, he was so good-looking that it was hard to think of him as an ordinary person. Wearing a tidy suit and a tie, he clearly wasn’t one of the idols competing. But his looks—there was no way they were common. He had the aura of someone who performed on stage, or at least a public figure of some kind.

“…Are you a celebrity?”

And there it was again—my old habit from my previous life as a man in his fifties, blurting out whatever I was curious about. Kids these days wouldn’t do that.

“Oh, no. I’m Song Eun-gyu’s… ahem, coach. My name’s Ha Jae-hyuk.”

“Oh, the top-ranked one…?”

Ha Jae-hyuk? That was the name I’d heard earlier—the professional gamer once ranked number one. But wait, how could a pro gamer look like this? Back in my day, the ones who played games looked like Go Hee-min with glasses. Were gamers being chosen for their looks now?

“I’m retired now, so I’m not number one anymore.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Maybe number two…”

“Right… I see.”

Then I thought, why does an idol E-sports event even have a coach? And why did the coach follow them all the way here? The questions flashed through my mind, but I wasn’t bold enough to ask, so I decided to just move along.

“Ji Myeong-hyeon.”

Suddenly, a low voice called my name. Turning, I saw Baek Jae-heon striding toward me, his expression hard and his steps unyielding.

“Oh…? You came to watch…? But it just ended—”

Before I could finish my sentence—

Smack.

Baek Jae-heon grabbed my arm roughly. Without saying a word, he started pulling me toward the waiting room inside the gym. I didn’t even have time to resist and had no choice but to follow him.