Chapter 20: The Rise of the Scout: Turning the Tide

[Sorry. I only managed to gather 50,000 won in funding.]

[No, why are you apologizing? It’s fine. Funding is all about doing what you can. Didn’t everyone have their “Hako days” at some point?]

During the funding tallying period, the streamers reported their results to Yoonkyung, the tournament organizer.

Haena’s voice was noticeably dispirited as she confessed to barely raising 50,000 won.

…

[I managed to gather 200,000 won. The economy is in such a slump these days—it’s hard to get funding, even though people love to backseat while I play games.]

[200,000 won from Dumin. What about you, Yuseong?]

[I got 250,000 won.]

[Wow! As expected from God-Yuseong! You really live up to being a trending streamer. So, our team’s total funding is 750,000 won. Hang on, I’ll go check the calculations with Heejin’s team.]

…

After some time, the total tournament prize pool was decided: 1,000,000 won from Twika TV, 750,000 won from Yoonkyung’s team, and 550,000 won from Heejin’s team.

Combined, the total prize money amounted to 2,300,000 won, which would be awarded to one person on the winning team as donation prize money.

[First match is Dumin versus Seonjun, right? I’ll create the room and send you an invite. Don’t be nervous, just have fun out there.]

[Ah, I really need to win today… Alright, I’m heading in.]

The first set of the game began.

The map was set to Fighting Spirit.

At 11 o’clock was Kim Dumin, playing Terran, and at 5 o’clock was Goo Seonjun, playing Protoss.

The diagonal spawn positions matched them against each other.

[Yuseong, can I start speaking casually with you? I’m technically older, but for some reason, using informal speech with you feels awkward.]

“Maybe it’s because I’m good-looking? Isn’t it common to call good-looking people oppa?”

[Are you out of your mind?]

Yoonkyung snapped back, clearly irritated, and the viewers weren’t any more forgiving.

…

[Wow, Yuseong’s getting bolder by the day, lolol.]

[When someone good-looking says stuff like that, it’s obnoxious… but we let it slide because it’s Yuseong, lol.]

[Ugh, gross!]

[It’s annoying that I can’t even argue with that, sigh.]

…

Amidst the unfolding match, I realized I should probably tone down such jokes in the future.

I was trying to get closer to Yoonkyung but might’ve gone too far.

“Anyway, is this level of gameplay even real?”

Both players were performing so poorly that it left us speechless.

Workers were idling instead of mining resources, and their building placements were all over the place.

Even a computer-controlled AI could play better than this.

…

[Dumin’s always been hilariously bad at this, haha. His nickname is ‘Preservative Terran’—he never improves, no matter how much time passes.]

[Watching male newbie-tier streamers play games is purely for entertainment. If you’re expecting skill, you’re just asking for stress.]

…

“I see. Well, I still hope he wins. Taking the first set is so important for momentum.”

In a best-of-five match, the significance of winning the first game cannot be overstated.

In games like League of Legends, teams that take the first set in multi-match series have a 70% chance of winning the entire match.

Securing an early advantage is key.

“Wait, why is he moving out now? He should’ve waited to gather more tanks!”

…

[He’s lost, lololol.]

[Honestly, in Protoss versus Terran, Protoss is always OP, lol.]

[What’s up with those tanks? They’re just firing blindly, lol.]

[Didn’t even upgrade to Siege Mode, smh.]

[Meanwhile, Goliaths are attacking their own units, lololol. He’s truly terrible.]

…

Despite my hopes, the result was a one-sided loss.

It wasn’t even that Protoss played particularly well—they simply gathered their troops and A-moved to victory while Terran mindlessly advanced and got crushed.

This puts us in a difficult position.

There’s no choice but to hope our team wins the second set and evens the score at 1-1.

Then I can aim for a comeback in the third game.

[Haena, I don’t want to pressure you, but you really need to win this one. If we lose again, our team will be at a major disadvantage.]

[Don’t worry. Doyeon’s no match for me, haha.]

[Haena, please win this for us.]

[Dumin… Just shut up. After that pathetic performance, do you really think you have the right to talk?]

[Hey, you told me to relax and have fun!]

The second set began.

At 1 o’clock was Protoss Chu Hyehyeona, and at 5 o’clock was Terran Noh Doyeon.

Their spawns were close, making rush distances shorter than the previous game.

“Do you think we’ll win this round?”

[Unless something crazy happens? Haena has a better track record and is ranked a tier higher.]

[Haena does well against Terran players, hyung.]

Is that so?

Then I guess we can feel optimistic.

Everyone is confident about Haena’s victory—even the viewers. I thought I could finally relax.

“Ugh, seriously! This is driving me crazy. Another loss?!”

…

[She’s pissed off, lolololol.]

[Triggered, lololol.]

[Doyeon’s going for a Bio-mech rush, lol.]

[After all those losses, it looks like they prepared a special strategy.]

[Yoonkyung, is this balance even fair?]

[If Yuseong loses in the third set, it’s all over, lol. And the opponent is streamer Ji-hye, lololol.]

[The pressure must be insane.]

…

It’s over.

Even Haena, who we trusted the most, lost.

Her reckless attempts to expand got crushed by Terran’s timing attack, leaving her main base completely overrun.

The score was now 0-2.

If we lose just one more set, it’s game over.

No, this can’t happen.

I invested 1,000,000 won of my own money into this.

There’s no way I’ll let my money go to someone else.

I have to win, no matter what.

I need to reignite hope for the team.

“I’ll go win this. I’m freezing the chat now.”

Finally, it was my turn.

I locked the chat to avoid being distracted or receiving hints that could influence the outcome.

Freezing the chat was essential for tournament matches with money on the line.

“Looks like I got Protoss.”

The game started with random races, and I spawned as Protoss at the 7 o’clock position.

My opponent, streamer Ji-hye, was Zerg, though her location was still unknown.

I’d find out once I scouted. Quickly, I set my Probes to gather resources and loosened up my fingers by moving the mouse around.

+++

[Hey, did you even organize the teams properly? We’re about to get shut out 3-0.]

“Shut up. If you’d won, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Things were not looking good.

Losing the game and forfeiting the prize money was frustrating enough, but the viewers’ reactions made it worse.

…

[Yoonkyung, please don’t organize tournaments anymore.]

[Did you pick the teams with your feet?]

[This is so boring, smh.]

[The whole tournament will be over in an hour, lololol.]

[Like, fine, whatever about the first two sets. But pairing Yuseong with Ji-hye? What’s up with that?]

[Yoonkyung just wanted to team up with Yuseong for the views and ended up ruining everything, lol.]

…

The comments were brutal.

When I revealed the team lineup, everyone praised it as one of the most exciting matchups ever.

But now that things had gone south, everything was somehow my fault.

Yuseong had to win.

But even I wasn’t sure anymore.

I hadn’t actually seen him play StarCraft before.

Did I overestimate his skills?

He’s the top male streamer in League of Legends, and he said he used to play StarCraft a lot, so I trusted him and set him up against Ji-hye.

Now I was full of regrets.

Please, just win.

If we lose here, I’ll be roasted on the forums all day.

“But, wow, Yuseong’s hand speed is insane. It’s practically pro-level.”

[APM 520 lol.]

[Yeah, it’s just inflated APM, lol. Anyone can click like crazy at the start of a game and get that.]

[APM fake flex, lol.]

[Nice try defending him, smh.]

[That’ll drop like a rock as the game goes on, lol.]

“No, seriously, just look at his unit control.

He’s even blocking Zergling rushes with Probes.”

Seeing his gameplay live, I started to change my mind.

Maybe we still had a chance.

After securing their natural expansions, the Protoss went for an early air unit tech, while the Zerg opted for two simultaneous expansions, choosing to play a more economic game.

The Zerg had the upper hand.

They neutralized the advantages of playing a random race by making bold, confident moves early on.

However, it wasn’t an unwinnable situation.

The Zerg was increasing their workers, Drones, while the Protoss had faster tech.

If the Protoss capitalized on this, they could still turn the game around.

“Now the Protoss will bring out a Corsair to take down the Overlords. Yes, here comes the Corsair… huh?”

…

[It’s a Scout?]

[That unit ]

[Wow, a Scout, This is over]

[The Prince of the Skies is here]

[GG already.]

[Yoonkyung won’t even get to play a single game and will lose by default]

…

What is he doing? If we lose just one more game, we’re completely done! Why on earth would he build a Scout now?

“Ah, did he mess up the entry lineup?”

The Scout, nicknamed the “Prince of the Skies,” is a Protoss air unit with exceptional anti-air capabilities.

However, despite its grand nickname, the unit is poorly regarded.

Costing 275 minerals and 125 gas, it’s an expensive high-tier unit, yet its overall performance is so underwhelming that no one uses it.

It’s considered a trash unit with terrible cost-effectiveness, only built in games already won to mock the opponent.

That’s how people see it.

“A Scout is coming out. Please watch closely.”

But the impact of a unit depends on who’s using it.

The pilot makes all the difference.

I once played Protoss exclusively for a month, captivated by the Scout’s potential.

Now it’s time to show the audience what I’ve got.

“Wow! This guy is insane!”

…

[Overlords keep getting wrecked.]

[Population count: 34/3, Critical alert incoming]

[Stop killing the Drones already! This is so cruel]

[What’s with this Scout control?]

[Did you see his APM spike to 600? He’s a monster.]

[Unbelievable. Ji-hye is losing without being able to do anything against a guy?]

…

Contrary to my initial worries, Yuseong was dominating the game.

A single Scout turned into two, relentlessly inflicting damage on the Zerg.

As the number of Scouts grew to over ten, the damage snowballed.

Whenever the Scout fleet passed through the Zerg’s base, it was left in ruins.

StarCraft has a supply cap system.

For every Overlord produced, the supply count increases by eight, allowing the player to build units accordingly.

But what if all the Overlords were eliminated?

Naturally, the player couldn’t produce any more units.

Even with resources, reinforcements would be impossible.

To make matters worse, the Zerg’s Drones—their resource-gathering workers—were also being massacred.

The Zerg was becoming painfully impoverished.

Repeated scenes of Scouts destroying Overlords and Drones left the Zerg utterly powerless.

Meanwhile, the Protoss expanded to three bases, widening the gap rapidly.

Unable to hold out any longer, Ji-hye finally surrendered and exited the game.

[Ah! This is hilarious. Hey, are Scouts normally this good?]

“No, they’re absolute garbage.”

[Then why do they look so broken right now? Should I switch to Protoss?]

[Dumin, that’s because Yuseong oppa’s control is insane. Just stick to what you’re doing.]

[Ah! Haena always picks on me!]

How is it possible to make such a useless unit so effective?

I’ve played StarCraft for over ten years, but I’ve never seen Scouts used like that.

Could it be that Scouts are secretly OP?

I even started questioning myself.

Shin Yuseong possesses incredible skills, more than I expected.

He’s not just a seasoned veteran. He has the potential to redefine the meta.

I’ll need to keep a close eye on him.

Perhaps a fresh, groundbreaking player is emerging to shake up the stale StarCraft scene.

“Did you see that? How was my Scout play?”

It’s been so long since I’ve tasted the sweetness of victory.

This is why games are meant to be played in tournaments.

The thrill is on another level.

Releasing my joy, I celebrated with an uppercut, punching the air multiple times.

[You demon]

[Leave at least one Drone for mercy, you heartless beast]

[APM peaked at 560 , Is this guy even human?]

[Wow, that was insane, Is there any game you’re bad at? Even in StarCraft, you’re a god]

[Ji-hye is crying right now, You’re ruthless.]

“Ah, Ji-hye, are you crying now?”

[You went too far this time.]

[She was begging you in-game to stop killing her units, Poor thing]

[She’s literally sobbing now]

I understand the frustration of losing and crying over a game.

I’ve been there too.

During the WLC finals in LoL, I cried bitterly after losing.

It was too heartbreaking, especially since I took pride in working harder than anyone else.

The memory left a bittersweet taste in my mouth.

I should offer Ji-hye some words of comfort.

“Um, tell Ji-hye that the golden rule when crying is to turn on the full camera.”

[This guy is ruthless.]

[Yuseong is on fire]

[Golden rule accepted, Full camera while crying]

Ah, this is fun. Gaming alone is never this satisfying.

The sense of accomplishment just isn’t the same.

With LoL’s TL tournaments happening often, maybe it’s time for me to participate again.

I want to feel this thrill in LoL too.

[Yuseong, great job. You’re our savior.]

“Thank you! Let’s win this! Yoonkyung, it’s your turn now!”

I turned on the Discord voice chat again.

My teammates congratulated and praised me, sharing in the excitement.

It was a joyous moment.

All that remained was to cheer on Yoonkyung, who still had matches left to play.

I’ve done my part. The key to victory now rests with Yoonkyung.

She has to win both Set 4 and the Ace match for our team to secure the final victory.

[Got it. I’ll do my best to win.]

With those parting words, Yoonkyung left the Discord room.

The main match everyone had been waiting for finally began.

The atmosphere in the chat, which had been lighthearted, suddenly grew heavy.

…

[Can Yoonkyung win? Heejin’s been in crazy good form lately.]

[Still, there’s the class of a defending champion.]

[Please, Yoonkyung, win so we can go to the ace match.]

[This is going to be exciting]

[I don’t usually watch StarCraft, but this is a must-watch.]

…

The game began.

Yoonkyung as Zerg at 11 o’clock, and Heejin as Protoss at 1 o’clock.

The rush distance was very short, being on a horizontal axis.

This was a rock-paper-scissors battle of strategy.

Depending on the outcome, the game could end abruptly.

“This is what pro gamers are like. Amazing.”

[You’re watching the two best StarCraft players in the world, hehe. It’s a feast for the eyes.]

The match was fierce, a head-to-head showdown with everything on the line.

The battle seesawed, with skirmishes erupting on multiple fronts every second.

The skill level of the StarCraft pros in this world was impressive.

I kept complimenting them out loud, but in my heart, I felt differently.

They were good, but I expected more.

Then again, maybe it couldn’t be helped.

Different worlds, different standards.

No, that’s not right.

What am I even thinking?

My teammate is giving their all in the game.

I should focus on cheering for them.

We need this win to reach the ace match.

[See? I told you I’d win!]

[God Yoonkyung! God Yoonkyung!]

[Unnie! I always believed in you!]

Yoonkyung won.

In a long, drawn-out game where Zerg and Protoss split the map in half, the Zerg emerged victorious by skillfully utilizing Zerglings and Defilers.

The slow-moving Protoss army lost their expansions one by one.

In the end, their remaining large force was depleted, and they had no choice but to surrender.

[So, it’s down to the ace match now? Don’t worry, I’ll win again. I’m in great form today.]

It all came down to Set 5.

A rematch between the TSL finalists from the previous set.

This match would determine the ultimate winning team.

[This is my reward for playing all night. Everyone, cheer for me.]

The chat erupted.

…

[Would Yoonkyung secure the final win?]

[Could we lift the trophy together?]

…

All I could do now was watch the game unfold.