Chapter 45: Competitive spirit

Ryu Jin-hyuk stayed up all night with his eyes wide open.

He kept staring at his friends list endlessly, wondering if Prisoner might log in.

At some point, he realized his eyelids were growing heavier, and he could feel himself starting to drift off.

It was already a period with not much time left in the season.

Naturally, the practice schedule was as tight as it would be during a tournament. Known for his dedication to practice, Ryu Jin-hyuk ultimately couldn’t resist the waves of drowsiness.

If he had been playing a game, it might have been a different story, but he didn’t even feel like doing that. Instead, he just stared blankly at the monitor.

At first, he desperately tried to stay awake.

His old friend might be in a serious situation, and he couldn’t bear the thought of lying back idly without knowing anything.

However, the body doesn’t always obey the will of its master.

‘…I can’t fall asleep.’

How many times had he drifted off and woken up again?

In the end, Ryu Jin-hyuk couldn’t resist the ceaseless pull of sleep that kept tempting him.

“…Hyung!”

The voice that woke him was a familiar one.

“Jin-hyuk hyung!”

The voice belonged to GuineaPig, Yoo Sang-hyun, the team’s support player.

True to his reputation for looking after his teammates, Yoo Sang-hyun seemed unable to pass by Ryu Jin-hyuk, who was slumped over his desk.

“Oh, uh. Yeah,” Ryu Jin-hyuk mumbled, wiping the drool off the corner of his mouth as he opened his eyes.

He had tried so hard not to fall asleep, but in the end, his mind couldn’t overcome his body.

“What are you doing here? Practice starts soon.”

“What?”

Today’s practice schedule began at 11 a.m.

That meant he had been asleep at his desk for at least nine hours.

Ryu Jin-hyuk berated himself.

He thought he was more familiar with staying up all night than anyone else, yet he had failed to endure the boredom.

“Pr… Prisoner?”

Still not fully awake, Ryu Jin-hyuk mumbled incoherently, searching for Prisoner.

Yoo Sang-hyun gave him a strange look.

“Why are you suddenly looking for Prisoner? Oh, you saw it too?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well…”

Before Yoo Sang-hyun could answer, Ryu Jin-hyuk’s gaze turned to the League of Legends client.

27…

“What?”

Ryu Jin-hyuk couldn’t believe his eyes.

[Prisoner]

In game.

It was Prisoner.

Prisoner was in a game right now.

“Ha…”

Ryu Jin-hyuk let out a deep sigh of relief.

He was alive…

He had been so worried that something might have happened to Prisoner, but thankfully, Prisoner seemed to be fine.

If something had happened, there was no way he’d be playing a game like this.

‘He must have had his reasons.’

Staring at the “in-game” status, Ryu Jin-hyuk firmed up a decision he had been pondering for a long time.

Today, he would say it.

He would apologize for his careless words in the past and congratulate him on being ranked number one and reaching 1,800 LP.

While Ryu Jin-hyuk was lost in thought, Yoo Sang-hyun spoke up.

“You should’ve seen it from the beginning… Did you?”

“What are you talking about?” Ryu Jin-hyuk asked, still not understanding what Yoo Sang-hyun was saying.

“Prisoner is about to hit 1,900 LP. People are going wild about it. Weren’t you watching that and then fell asleep here?”

“What?”

Out of nowhere, 1,900 LP?

Wasn’t Prisoner’s score at 1,800 LP?

No, and more importantly, 1,900 LP? The absurdity of it left him speechless.

“Huh? You didn’t know?”

At Yoo Sang-hyun’s response, Ryu Jin-hyuk hurriedly opened a stats website.

He searched for Prisoner.

[Prisoner]

Rank 1

Solo Queue

• Challenger
• 1,890 LP / 259 Wins, 172 Losses
• Win rate: 60%

Ryu Jin-hyuk felt his mind go blank for a moment.

He had been asleep for barely nine hours.

Of course, nine hours wasn’t a short time, but it wasn’t enough for someone to go from 1,800 LP to nearly 1,900 LP.

Especially not in the highest tiers of solo queue, where Prisoner was currently playing. Isn’t matchmaking notoriously slow in that bracket?

Even considering the average waiting time, including bans and picks, it easily took 10 to 20 minutes.

What if there was a dodge in the middle?

The waiting time would immediately become meaningless, evaporating into thin air.

Ryu Jin-hyuk stared blankly at the screen, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

Spending an hour in matchmaking only to give up without playing a single game wasn’t just a joke for top-tier players. Yet somehow, Prisoner had managed to climb so dramatically within the same time frame.

No matter how skilled Prisoner was, physical time couldn’t be ignored. The situation seemed utterly bizarre.

‘What’s going on…?’

Feeling as though he were in a dream, Jin-hyuk slowly scrolled through Prisoner’s match history.

[Win] 13 minutes 41 seconds
[Win] 19 minutes 12 seconds
[Win] 15 minutes 06 seconds
[Win] 15 minutes 14 seconds
[Win] 34 minutes 33 seconds
[Win] 29 minutes 54 seconds

Six consecutive wins.

During the nine hours Jin-hyuk had been asleep, Prisoner had won six games in a row.

‘…And they were complete stomps.’

Only two games lasted over 20 minutes, meaning that even the elite players of Korean solo queue couldn’t last 20 minutes against him.

‘So that’s how he managed six wins while I was asleep?’

But the questions didn’t stop there.

Up until now, Prisoner rarely played more than three games a day. Yet here he was, having played six games overnight—a behavior completely unlike him.

‘Why?’

Prisoner’s pattern had changed.

Playing six games in a row was difficult but not impossible. Professional players often played 12 or more games a day, including scrims and solo queue matches.

Of course, some casual players in lower tiers might even rack up 20 games in a day without much thought.

But those were general cases. Prisoner’s situation was unique.

‘Prisoner’s health hasn’t been great. There must have been a reason he kept his games to three a day.’

Though it was possible his condition had improved recently, Jin-hyuk’s thoughts leaned toward the pessimistic.

There’s a saying: Hui-gwang-ban-jo (the brightest flame before it goes out).

For some reason, Prisoner felt like he was burning his last embers.

‘I need to see it for myself.’

Even though practice was about to start, Jin-hyuk felt an overwhelming sense of duty.

He wanted to see with his own eyes what state Prisoner was in.

As Jin-hyuk moved to spectate Prisoner’s game from the friends list, Yoo Sang-hyun interrupted.

“Hyung, there’s a delay if you watch it that way. It’s better to check the livestream.”

“Livestream?”

“Yeah.”

“But Prisoner doesn’t stream.”

“Right now, a bunch of streamers are sniping him. You seriously didn’t know?”

“Where can I watch?”

“RedTV is probably your best bet.”

At Sang-hyun’s suggestion, Jin-hyuk hurriedly opened RedTV, an online streaming platform.

The broadcast list left him stunned.

[C1 1300] Sniping Prisoner. Waiting Room.
[Spectator Room] Prisoner’s 1900 LP Decider. What will the result be?
[C1 1244] Stop me if you want 1900 LP, Prisoner.
[Challenger Grind] Streaming until I meet Prisoner.

Streamers and content creators of all kinds—commonly referred to as BJs—were pouring their attention into Prisoner’s games.

These people lived for viewer engagement and view counts, so it made sense they would latch onto the current sensation.

‘So that’s why Prisoner has been able to find matches so quickly.’

Countless streamers queued up to snipe him, reducing his matchmaking time compared to the usual delays in the highest ranks.

“Hyung, look at that.”

“What?”

Sang-hyun pointed to a particular stream, hosted by a famous BJ and top-tier jungler, JooSim.

[C1 1244] Stop me if you want 1900 LP, Prisoner.

“It looks like JooSim is on the opposing team to Prisoner right now.”

JooSim, known as a Lee Sin specialist in the upper echelons, was renowned as both a talented player and a popular BJ.

Even Yoon-gi acknowledged his mastery of Lee Sin. Jin-hyuk himself had often encountered JooSim in solo queue, either as an ally or opponent.

Jin-hyuk entered JooSim’s stream.

The first thing that caught his attention was the overwhelming game score.

[0:9]

The game had only been going for about 11 minutes, but it was already a disaster.

‘Well, of course.’

Prisoner had overwhelmed even Yoon-gi, the Red Cup champion, and Jin-hyuk himself. No matter how skilled JooSim was, it was impossible to stop a rampaging Prisoner.

Given the situation, the chat was overflowing with mockery of JooSim.

The stream’s viewer count climbed higher, feeding on the drama of the match.

The four-digit jungler? Seriously…

– [Info]: The gap between JooSim and Prisoner’s score is like gold versus diamond.

– What else can you expect from a gold-ranked player? LOL.

– Is this… gold-tier Lee Sin?

JooSim, who normally never stopped talking as a professional streamer, was completely silent in this situation. He could only bite his lips in frustration.

“…This shouldn’t have happened…”

The chat exploded with mocking comments.

“JooSim in shambles, lol.”

The result was an overwhelming victory for Prisoner.

Before the 15-minute mark, the Rift Herald crashed into the inhibitor turret, and the enemy team naturally called for an open mid.

[Defeat]

– Applause squad, step up!

– Na-

– ROK.

“Not too impressive for a gold-tier player, huh?”

“Gold-tier Lee Sin! Gold-tier Lee Sin!”

Watching a streamer being relentlessly mocked wasn’t exactly enjoyable, so Jin-hyuk turned off the stream.

“Ah, why’d you turn it off? It was fun!” Yoo Sang-hyun, who was familiar with internet streaming culture, seemed quite entertained.

“Enough. Get ready. You’re not planning to skip breakfast, are you? Coach will scold you if you do.”

“…Go back to your seat.”

“Alright, alright.”

As Yoo Sang-hyun left, Jin-hyuk stared blankly at Prisoner’s record.

[Prisoner]
Rank 1
Solo Queue

• Challenger
• 1904 LP / 260 Wins, 172 Losses
• Win rate: 60%

1,900 LP.

Prisoner, who had recently made history by reaching 1,800 LP, had created another legend overnight.

An impossible feat.

Yet it had undeniably happened.

When Prisoner had first hit 1,800 LP, Jin-hyuk didn’t feel this way.

Even though Prisoner had broken his record, the score difference wasn’t significant, and Jin-hyuk had believed he could easily hit 1,800 LP if he put his mind to it.

But as soon as Prisoner reached 1,900 LP, Jin-hyuk felt something indescribably strange.

It was an unfamiliar feeling.

Until now, his emotions toward Prisoner had been a mix of admiration, regret, and even sympathy.

But this was different.

Something was stirring inside him, something he couldn’t quite explain. It made his heart race.

‘What is this?’

Jealousy? No, that wasn’t it.

Was it the same regret and pity he had felt before, knowing that such skill couldn’t be showcased on the professional stage?

No, it wasn’t that either.

“…Ah.”

Jin-hyuk suddenly realized what he was feeling.

A competitive spirit.

At that moment, he genuinely wanted to defeat Prisoner.

Up until now, his feelings toward Prisoner had been close to regretful sympathy. But now, he truly acknowledged Prisoner as a worthy rival.

And because of that, he wanted to crush the living legend Prisoner with his own two hands.

‘Prisoner.’

But he couldn’t do it alone.

Jin-hyuk wanted to give everything he had to beat Prisoner. However, if he queued solo, there was a 50/50 chance that Prisoner would end up on his team.

That wasn’t what Jin-hyuk wanted.

Having made up his mind, Jin-hyuk approached Park Yoon-gi, who was sitting at his desk.

“Yoon-gi.”

“Yes, hyung?”

“Want to duo with me in a bit?”

“Bot duo?”

“No.”

Prisoner.

I don’t know how far you’ll climb…

“Mid and jungle.”

Let’s see if I can stop you.