High ceilings and a spacious interior.

It was a beautiful villa where one could see the rolling blue sea and white sand beach through the reinforced glass walls.

There, a woman in her late twenties was leisurely spending time alone in the living room, reclining in a comfortable chair.

Even though it was past noon, she was still in her pajamas, a picture of her lazy day.

Just then, a notification chime rang out from her laptop.

She opened her eyes and quickly began typing on her keyboard.

-iLoveSin: I took new photos, Cult Leader. I uploaded them to the café.

A lively smile began to form on her innocent, pale face.

With a fluttering heart, she logged into the Lee Shin Sect fan café.

There was a new post uploaded by iLoveSin, the cheeky little Canadian who had recently become the Grand Priest of the Lee Shin Sect.

“Haa…”

She took a deep breath to calm herself.

She emptied her mind, preparing herself to accept him in a clean and clear state.

Click

She clicked on the post.

Then, multiple photos filled her laptop monitor.

“Ah…!”

A deep sense of fulfillment welled up in her chest.

There was Lee Shin, clearly showing his discomfort, and iLoveSin clinging to him like a parasite—no, anyway, sticking close to him.

In addition to their selfies together, there were many other photos.

They were incredibly rare photos.

Lee Shin, watching Jung Da-ul’s first-tier test game with a cold expression.

A shot of Lee Shin sitting cross-legged, resting his chin in his signature pose!

There was a man so beautiful, it was enough just for him to exist.

She had to make a conscious effort to calm her soaring emotions.

The cold eyes, the pensive expression as he observed the game—it was so sexy. It was her favorite version of Lee Shin.

Most regular female fans didn’t know much about the game. They’d just scream over how handsome he was.

But she was different.

-I don’t know.

-Pardon?

-I’m not really sure what it means to have talent. I’ve never thought of anyone in that way.

-W-What do you mean?

-To my eyes, all players just look like players, so I can’t really tell who’s talented and who’s not.

She had stumbled across an interview video that had gone viral online, and it gave her chills.

The video was nicknamed “The Arrogance of a God.”

He could have just tossed out a generic compliment about a player being great. But even so, she felt that Lee Shin didn’t want to lie.

He was so arrogantly honest, it was stunning.

What kind of person was he?

Curiosity piqued, she started looking into him. She watched his past games and gradually became captivated by his plays.

His genius gameplay, showing flashes of brilliance at every moment, thrilled her.

How could a man this handsome also be this intelligent!

From then on, she began following his every move. Watching his every action, she became more and more immersed in him.

By the time she realized it, she was already in too deep to turn back. She had even become the Cult Leader of the Lee Shin Sect—that is, the fan club president.

She was a diligent person. Once she took on a role, she performed it with greater sincerity and excellence than anyone else.

During the period when Lee Shin had temporarily retired due to a wrist injury, the Lee Shin Sect also faltered. The former Cult Leader, “GodlikeDignity,” collapsed in shock and stepped down.

The person who succeeded the role was her—username “VirtueRighteousnessGod.”

Daughter of a rising IT media conglomerate, she understood the nature of the internet very well. She fully utilized the business sense learned from her father to revive the Lee Shin Sect.

Through securing various types of content and activities, the Lee Shin Sect actually saw an increase in membership.

It was the result of her leadership, fostering a sense of duty among members that they must work harder to counter the conspiracy of the thugs who had attacked Lee Shin.

With the increase in membership came more ad revenue, which enabled them to hire a private investigator to look into the wrist assault incident.

The cult members trusted the Cult Leader who had shown such overwhelming charisma, and netizens called her the icon of “wasted talent.”

-I love you.

Suddenly, the alert tone for a new message chimed.

“Oh my!”

She immediately picked up her smartphone.

It was a custom notification made using a recorded clip of Lee Shin’s voice. She was the only person in the world who had set that tone.

-God♡: I’m thinking of buying a car. Can you recommend one?

It was a text message from Lee Shin.

Because she was the Cult Leader of the Lee Shin Sect and had helped with various aspects of his life, they were now in frequent contact.

‘Even in this day and age, God still uses SMS—so cool!’

To her love-struck eyes, everything he did was charming.

-You’re buying a car?

-God♡: Yes.

-But you don’t like driving. You even refused when I tried to gift you a car T_T

-God♡: I still have no reason to accept a car as a gift, and I still dislike driving.

-Then why are you buying a car?

-God♡: Convenient to have. Recommend something with a comfortable back seat.

‘Ah, he’s getting tired of texting.’

She noticed immediately, based on how short his replies suddenly became.

She wanted to keep chatting longer, but decided to stop there.

Truthfully, the moment he mentioned buying a car, she already knew what he wanted.

-If it’s a comfortable back seat, then a Rolls-Royce Phantom is the best! It’s not an easy car to get, so I’ll buy one and send it to you. I’ll even find a skilled chauffeur to go with it. ^^

-God♡: How much?

-It’s my gift to you. ^^

Just wanted to take a shot.

-God♡: Don’t need it.

-ㅠㅠ I’ll let you know the price once I get an estimate. But you don’t have much money left after buying the house and all that, right? You said your salary was pretty low too ㅠㅠ

By her standards, an annual salary of 100 million won was low pay.

-God♡: I can just earn more. That’s all.

-Okay ^^ Hope you have a happy and healthy day!

-God♡: Okay.

She kept reading and rereading the message exchange, drowning in bliss.

‘Please stay the same, always.’

As she looked at Lee Shin, who never seemed to change with time, she hoped she would always feel her heart race just like now.

MBS trainee dormitory.

Even among those affiliated with MBS, the dorms differed by tier.

First-string players had private rooms.

Second-string players shared rooms two to a room.

And trainees, who weren’t official pros, had to live four to a room, handling cleaning, laundry, and dishes all on their own in very poor conditions.

Even so, it was said that things had vastly improved compared to the early days of esports.

But still, being a trainee was difficult.

Not because of the living conditions—but because of their uncertain future.

‘Let’s be real. If you’re not gonna make it, you’re not. Same goes for me, and honestly, I don’t think you will either.’

Recalling the words of a friend who used to be a fellow trainee, Baek Ji-soo felt troubled.

Already twenty years old this year.

He had become an adult without having achieved anything, and each passing day made him afraid of growing older.

He hadn’t even broken through the barrier to the second-string, let alone the first-string.

There was a limited window of time to live as a pro gamer, and Baek Ji-soo had hit twenty without even getting a proper start.

‘Am I really not cut out for this?’

Thinking of Judy, who had gone straight from trainee to first-string in just a month, Baek Ji-soo couldn’t help but despair.

A foreigner.

Not even a guy, but a pretty girl had shot up to the place he’d been dreaming of—and how crushing that had felt.

There were some who turned that despair into fierce motivation to try harder, but not a few trainees simply fell into discouragement. Baek Ji-soo was the latter.

‘Don’t cling to something that’s not working. Just do what I did—get out and start streaming. I’ll promote you hard.’

His old trainee buddy, Park Han-young, had barely scraped by in the amateur league to earn semi-pro status but couldn’t break into the second-string either.

But Park had quit being a trainee and pivoted to being a game BJ on PaprikaTV, achieving great success.

His skills were lacking, but his natural gift for talk made him a star BJ in personal streaming, and now, it was said he earned more than most first-string players.

When Park Han-young, once a fellow struggling trainee, pulled up one day in a Mustang coupe, Baek Ji-soo was so shocked it felt like his heart had stopped.

Park even treated him to a meal at an expensive place and coaxed him to try streaming together.

He said that with his help, Baek could quickly gain a foothold and gather loyal fans.

And Park himself would benefit too, since having a broadcast partner would increase content variety.

It didn’t sound like a bad idea.

Up to that point.

“But don’t you think, after all the hard work you’ve put in as a trainee, you should at least get some kind of severance pay before leaving?”

That’s how Park Han-young’s proposal began—and it was shocking.

“You were there when Lee Shin did the first-string test, right?”

At that point, Baek Ji-soo already knew what Park Han-young was after.

He grabbed him by the collar and asked furiously if that was the reason he’d called him out. Park got angry too and shouted back,

“Shit, don’t you feel even a little wronged? We were packed four to a room, scrubbing floors, doing laundry and dishes, all just to try and play. While everyone else was studying, going to college, dating, building their lives—we wasted our youth!”

Park Han-young’s outburst seemed sincere.

“And what did the team ever do for us? We staked everything, but for them, it was whatever—if we made it, great; if not, who cares. Did they ever provide anything for our futures? If not, then we have to look after ourselves. Don’t you think?”

“……”

Park handed Baek Ji-soo a USB flash drive.

“Just plug this into Lee Shin’s computer. Fifteen minutes tops, they said.”

Baek Ji-soo stared blankly at it before glaring at Park.

“If you’re lying to me, I swear I’ll come at you with a knife.”

“You asshole. I’m serious about the streaming thing, okay? Think about it—if I got you to do this and then ditched you, what do you think people would say? You think I could keep my career alive after that?”

‘That’s true.’

They had always been close. It didn’t seem likely that Park would betray him like that.

“I’ll think about it.”

And then night fell.

After turning the decision over a few more times, Baek Ji-soo finally made up his mind.

It was a chance to flip the miserable life he’d been embarrassed to talk about in front of his high school friends—all in one shot.

‘It’s not even a serious crime, right? I mean, even if this gets out online, all they’ll get is a replay file.’

Just before dawn, Baek Ji-soo quietly slipped out of the dorm and headed to the practice room.

On the way, he sent a short message to Park Han-young.

-Doing it soon.

When he arrived at the empty practice room, Baek Ji-soo quietly inserted the USB flash drive into the computer at Lee Shin’s station and pressed the power button.

Whirr—

Instead of the Windows boot screen, a strange screen appeared on the monitor.

‘No way… is the computer broken?’

He was suddenly gripped with fear.

But a few moments later, it rebooted on its own, and thankfully, the usual Windows login screen showed up.

Seeing the screen asking for the password, Baek Ji-soo let out a sigh of relief and pulled the USB flash drive out.

The next day, Baek Ji-soo quit being a trainee and left MBS.