Chapter 12: The Countdown to Victory

The chirping of sparrows filled the air in the early morning.

It wasn’t even dawn yet, but I found myself awake, getting dressed and ready for the day.

Quietly, I stepped into Suah’s room.

She was still sound asleep, her breaths soft and even.

Her blanket was haphazardly tossed aside, so I gently pulled it over her again.

Watching her peaceful, childlike face, I couldn’t help but think, She’s still such a kid.

Not wanting to disturb her, I left her room silently.

Downstairs, I scribbled a quick note and left it on the counter:

[Out early. Might come back late.]

Satisfied with the message, I nodded and stepped outside.

The crisp dawn air greeted me, chasing away the last remnants of sleep.

Taking a deep breath, I felt a surge of determination.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

My destination? The internet café I visited yesterday.

After Suah told me about her situation, I’d spent the night racking my brain, trying to figure out how I could help.

Earning 400,000 won in just a week wasn’t something that could be achieved through ordinary means.

I needed something extraordinary something most people couldn’t do.

But do I have something extraordinary?

Let’s face it, I’m just a lowly Chinese restaurant delivery worker.

My life doesn’t exactly scream “special.” But then it hit me there is one thing that sets me apart.

Eternal Battle.

If there’s one thing I’m confident in, it’s that I’m the best in the world at that game.

And if that’s my only unique skill, then I’d be stupid not to use it.

The obvious options becoming a pro gamer, YouTuber, or streamer crossed my mind.

They could potentially bring in a lot of money, and I was sure I’d succeed.

But time wasn’t on my side. Those options required too much setup and preparation.

If I had even a little more time, I wouldn’t have hesitated.

So, with those ruled out, I was left with only one viable path: amateur tournaments.

I remembered the tournament flyer I saw at the internet café yesterday.

First place prize: 1,000,000 won.

In terms of quick money, it didn’t get much better than that.

Sure, winning one tournament would still leave me 3,000,000 won short.

But who said I could only participate in one?

There were amateur tournaments happening in internet cafés all over the country.

If I swept them all over the next week, I could collect the full 4,000,000 won.

And if, by some chance, I still fell short?

Well, I had a Plan B ready for that.

For now, what I knew for sure was that this was my best shot.

That’s why I decided to take a week off from my delivery job.

Let’s be real there’s no way a delivery job could ever cover surgery costs, no matter how hard I worked.

Failure wasn’t an option.

Once I decided to win, there was no way I wouldn’t.

Internet cafés are famously open 24/7, so naturally, this one was too.

As I walked in, I spotted the part-timer from yesterday, nodding off at the counter.

“Here we go,” I muttered, ready to begin.

The part-timer must be working some long shifts.

I felt a twinge of sympathy, but on the bright side,

dealing with the same person made the registration process simpler.

“Excuse me. Can you wake up for a second?”

No matter how much I called out, they didn’t stir, so I gave their shoulder a gentle tap.

Groggily, they lifted their head, blinking at me with half-open eyes.

“…A goddess? Am I dreaming?”

“What? Hey, snap out of it.”

A goddess? What kind of dream was this person having?

The part-timer blinked several times, and their eyes widened as they realized the situation wasn’t a dream.

“Oh… uh… I, uh…”

Great, they’re still out of it.

I rubbed my forehead in frustration and said, “I’d like to register for the tournament you mentioned yesterday.”

“Huh? Oh, the tournament?!”

“Yes, the tournament. Can I get the registration form?”

“Right! Here it is!”

They quickly handed me the form.

Taking it, I filled out my name and other details without delay.

When I got to the section for a nickname and rank, I hesitated.

SpicyNoodleFan.

For rank… should I just write “unranked”? I hadn’t finished my placement matches yet,

so technically it wasn’t a lie.

After a brief internal debate, I checked “unranked” with full confidence.

It wasn’t like skill and rank had to perfectly align, right?

“Here you go,” I said, handing back the form.

“Thank you! The tournament starts at noon, so you just have to wait six hours!”

“Got it. Thanks.”

Of course, I wasn’t planning to spend six hours idly waiting or caSuahlly gaming.

Time was of the essence, and wasting even a second could snowball into bigger problems.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure! Ask me anything!”

“Are there any other tournaments happening at nearby internet cafés within the next week?”

“Uh… other tournaments?”

The part-timer’s face scrunched up in thought, clearly unprepared for the question.

Still, they seemed dependable enough that, even if they didn’t know, they’d make the effort to find out.

Yeah, they gave off that vibe kind of like a pushover, but a helpful one.

While waiting for their response, I grabbed a seat and started searching on my phone.

Why not use the computer?

Because money matters.

It might sound ridiculous, but every little expense counts.

If I missed the surgery payment by just 1,000 won, what would I do?

Sure, the hospital might cut me some slack in such a case,

but the point was clear: every penny was crucial.

If I could save money, I would. And with free Wi-Fi available, there was no reason not to use my phone.

After a bit of searching, I found a surprising number of amateur tournaments.

There were offline events hosted by internet cafés like this one,

as well as online tournaments organized by individual streamers.

As expected of the nation’s most popular game.

With professional tournaments thriving, the amateur scene seemed just as vibrant.

For someone in my situation, it was a golden opportunity.

Most offline tournaments were held in Seoul, but a few were happening in other regions.

Even if travel expenses were steep, as long as I won, it would all be worth it.

I cross-checked the tournament schedules, eliminating overlaps and skipping the ones with lower prize money.

“Um… there’s one happening in this area next week,” the part-timer offered.

“Oh, thank you for letting me know.”

They also told me about a few smaller tournaments not listed online.

After compiling all the information, my schedule for the week was completely packed.

“Hm…”

Calculating all the prize money, it was still cutting it close.

Especially when factoring in living expenses for the week, it became even tighter.

Most tournaments didn’t offer prizes as generous as this internet café.

Some had first-place prizes as low as 100,000 won,

while others had lengthy qualifiers that consumed too much time.

It seemed like I’d have to prepare to execute Plan B as well.

“Here, have this while you work.”

Suddenly, the part-timer approached me with a drink.

“I didn’t order this. Did you mix up the tables?”

“N-No! It’s on the house!”

“Oh.”

Honestly, I was a bit taken aback.

Considering I’d been hogging a seat without paying and even using the charger,

I probably looked like a freeloader.

Still, I wasn’t going to refuse the kindness.

“Thank you. I’ll enjoy it.”

“But… could I ask for a small favor in return?”

Don’t tell me they’re about to ask for my number.

If that was the case, I’d firmly decline.

While I always repay kindness, leading someone on without genuine interest was just cruel.

The part-timer scratched the back of their head awkwardly before speaking.

“Um… could I ask for your name?”

“My name?”

Not my number, but my name? That’s it?

They definitely seemed interested in me,

but whether it was shyness or naivety, they weren’t pushing too hard.

“It’s on the registration form. You can check it there.”

“Oh… but it’d be nicer to hear it directly from you!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at their sudden enthusiasm.

Not a bad person, I guess. But dating a guy? Never going to happen.

“It’s Bae Gaeul.”

“Gaeul… Gaeul-ssi! Got it, I’ll remember it for sure!”

“There’s no need to go that far.”

“Oh…”

At my curt reply, they slouched and shuffled back to the counter, looking dejected.

Still, I called out to them, “Thanks for the drink. And for your help earlier.”

“Haha! Don’t mention it. It’s nothing!”

Definitely a pushover vibe.

But that wasn’t my concern right now. A quick glance at the time showed it was already 11 AM.

Time had flown by.

The café was starting to fill up with people as the tournament drew closer.

Banners were hung on the walls, and the atmosphere became more lively.

It looked like they were preparing to kick things off.

No wonder the prize was set at 1 million won.

Alright, time to get ready.