The sand was coarse. Strong moonlight cast it an ethereal cobalt. The wind was docile, but chill. Its biting touch swept over the neatly formed dunes which bordered the well-lit street. Gwangalli Beach – its was a name spoken in reverence, a ground upon which champions had been crowned. For many nights one man had strode upon it in a lonely pilgrimage. What is it he sought? Sometimes, even he could not recall. He reveled in feel of the granules beneath his bare soles as he indulged in dreams of triumph yet to materialize. He had been gone for quite so time. So long, in fact, that many had forgotten his name. Whatever legacy he might have carved had been decayed by time and those younger, more able than him. Gwangalli was quiet, as it always was at this hour. It was desolate but also pristine, unmarred by the dangers of the future. It represented newness and opportunity. And as one man, a forgotten warrior named ByuN, who in his own mind had already ascended the throne, raised his gaze from the silvery waters to the beaming radiance of Busan, a single thought escaped his lips. “It’s my time,”
As the glorious red and flame-black battle mist swirled around the entangled armies, I espied the Terran warlord. Although weakened from destroying a PF that gained detection moments before I cut it down, I seized the moment. With the power of the Khala coursing through my psi-blades, I released a furious swipe towards his chest, "I strike from the shadows!"
The sound of the blow resonated electrically as it parted the space and time between us. A single instance before he was to be smote down however, a sweeping scan revealed my position. A sharp hiss and white steam then burst from the seams of the Terran's armor, the human's eyes dilated immensely and he was suddenly thrice the speed of his companions; he slipped my attack with ease.
Whereas before his rifle emitted only a casual spatter of tracer rounds, it now unrealistically rained fire upon me at such a rapid rate that my shields were depleted within a second. A sentry saw my predicament and cast a force field between myself and my foe, but it was too late, a medley of rounds pierced my chest in a horrid splatter and I fell to the ground. The bloodshot clouds hung in the air amidst the chaos as I lay dying, slowly the Void absorbed me, I had failed.
The nothing, the all, the aether and the rift crackled, somewhere in the infinite spirals of galaxies a voice of wisdom beckoned me forth. I floated towards it through innumerous and gargantuan gas pillars lit bright in crimson and gold by neighboring white dwarf stars. I possessed no feeling, I had presence but no physicality, the Khala was still with me but faint like a forgotten dream. Suddenly - a terrible whirring sound pulsed beneath me and then a pain like no other gripped my consciousness; it teased and tormented, it squeezed and augmented my perception. A sharp light flooded my universal field and I felt a corporeal quad-mechanical twitching where my legs once were. I was again, but metamorphosed, before me stood one of the high templar... A second chance. "Cold is the Void..."
Sunset had long since passed, and the light of his computer monitor was the only illumination of the room. Sitting back in his chair, ByuN wiped the sleep from the corner of his eyes and pushed his glasses up his nose. He contemplated the victory screen he was presented with. At length he seemed satisfied. It had been far too long since he had felt this kind of power. His fingers still felt agile despite the exertion with which he had been hammering out his macro. His eyes felt sharp, tracking the sharp edges of the Terran decal. Only his mouse hand felt strange - numb from the wrist down. He dismissed this train of thought. Hadn’t he just played the best game of his life? The result was in front of him, lighting the room in triumph, and the memory of how his micro had been impeccable, as if guided by a higher power, burned bright in his mind’s eye. At last he smiled and acknowledged a dark shape slumped in the corner behind him. “Thank you, Jung Jong Hyun.”
Whispers began of a titan of the Ladder. A player who could make impossible plays, crushing stronger armies with flawless micro, grinding mineral lines to a bloody pulp. The names of the defeated didn’t register anymore. Nor did he pause to contemplate the victory screens. They were an annoyance to him now, partly because he cringed to remembered how alluring it was to him at the beginning, partly because they were an unnecessary step between him and his true focus. He gazed at the graphs now displayed on his screen. “Supply blocked, 58 seconds”, he mused whilst rubbing his wrist. It was still mostly numb, but there was now a small discomfort there too. He stared at it. Was that a red bump forming? So what if it was, that’s not what matters. He looked back at the income values. He was behind the whole time, only his micro had made the victory possible. His fingers which once felt so agile seemed clumsy and sluggish in comparison to the blistering speed of his micro. Something had to be done. ByuN turned his chair to face where the slumped figure had once been. Above that spot, on the wall now hung a picture. Idly massaging his wrist and staring at MVP’s smiling face, ByuN thought hard. “I need another. I need Innovation”.
He did it at an offline event. He stood to one side of the crowd, listening to their shouts. They made him anxious. They rode a wave of emotion that could crash in a second. The protoss was balancing on a razor’s edge and his fans blindly cheered on unable to see the impending disappointment when Innovation finally choose to engage. His control was a bit sloppy; the Protoss was far more skilled there, but it didn’t matter. Innovation’s bio crashed through the stalkers and gunned down the overcharged pylons. ByuN felt small in the face of such overpowering macro, unsure if even his micro would have swung that engagement. He shook his head. Even if he had won that engagement, the macro machine would have thrown wave after wave at him. He could have won that battle, but the match would go to Innovation. He smiled at the thought, and stepped closer to the front of the crowd to wait patiently, rubbing his wrist.
When the event finally ended, most of the crowd headed home. Only the diehard fans stayed to give gifts to their favourite players and take pictures. Only the diehard fans, and ByuN. Innovation drew the biggest group, so ByuN had to wait even longer. His patience was wearing thin now. As the last fan finished thanking Innovation for showing such great games, ByuN stepped in and gave Innovation a shy smile. “I’m sorry I haven’t brought a gift, but perhaps may I take a selfie with you? You are a great Terran, I can only dream that my macro can be as strong as yours.” Innovation seemed a little surprised, but recovered with a smile, “Of course!” ByuN took out his phone and stood close next to Innovation. Reaching his left arm out in front with the camera in selfie mode, he brought his right to around Innovation’s shoulders, resting his hand lightly upon him. As he did so, his sleeve slipped a little to reveal an angry red bump on his wrist, which ByuN pressed against Innovation.
The camera shutter clicked.
“Thank you, Innovation. You have given me a great gift”. “Y-you’re welcome”, Innovation managed to say, as his team coach came to fetch him. As Innovation and his coach walked away, ByuN listened to their conversation. “Are you okay Inno, you look a bit pale?” “I think so, just a tough match I guess”. ByuN smiled to himself, and looked at the picture he had taken. Innovation’s face was smiling uncertainly. ByuN’s smile was wide and radiant, but not as radiant as the light centered around his wrist. The picture had caught the exact moment when the bump had made contact with Innovation, and it glowed with power.
“I think I am ready”, he said. “Good”, came Amon's reply, “I have made you my champion, given you the power to crush any that stand in your way. Go. Do not hesitate. End the infinite cycle of the GSL, and release these mewling specks from the suffering of their victories”. ByuN's hands vibrated with the unbridled power of MVP's micro and Innovation's macro. He smiled. None would be able to oppose him now. He allowed the fans to swirl around him. They were oblivious to him now, but it was time to step from the shadows. He walked out into the Seoul sunshine, and disappeared among the crowd. For now.
The humid air in Dasan Station didn’t waver the crowd, in fact, it seemed like it has passed on hysteria to the spectator. The man that sat closest to the stage was smiling proudly to himself as he took a sip of Hot6ix. It wasn’t a waste of time coming here, watching his idol, his inspiration, the most important person of his life displaying his strength. On stage, INnoVation, or also known as The Machine, was demolishing his foe. Poor Protoss didn’t stand a chance against his relentless attack waves. After his last failed attempt to counter attack, the Protoss finally signaled his helplessness and surrendered. With a clean and beautiful set score of 4-0 to seal the deal, the Terran advanced to the final battle to face the reigning king, $O$.
“If only I was that powerful” - ByuN thought to himself while waiting in line for a chance to meet the victor. When it was finally his turn, he took a picture with The Machine and got an autograph like everyone else. Afterward, he found himself at a loss for word; out of nowhere he spurted out all at once.
“I… I have been a fan of you for a long time. You are my inspiration, and I strive to be like you… If only I was as strong as you are. I… I wouldn’t be able to be here without you. You’re the most important person in my life.” INnoVation paused as if his brain was not processing the information at a fast enough rate. He then finally said his thanks in a disinterested tone, and turned to the next person, who was clearly impatient about ByuN taking too much time. It was that moment that reality struck him. He was a nobody, why would INnoVation cares about him and his feelings. It’s idiotic, really, for him to be this shaken about this situation, but he felt like everything that was building up his life has suddenly collapsed. He found sparkuling tears blurring his vision as he walked away.
If only he could disappear from this world.
“Stop right there!” - A voice said. When he turned his head to the person speaking, NesTea was standing right behind him. “Your disappearance will lead to the unavoidable eventual destruction of this universe. You have been chosen by me myself to keep this universe in tact. If you fail to finish your quest, I won’t even be here to be disappointed.” Before ByuN got to question him what his so called fate and mission was, the Creator of the Universe already disappeared into the Void.
And then he saw himself.
Or rather, it was him from the future.
“Who are you? Why are you here?” - ByuN asked
“I am from the future, or the alternate universe if your mission comes to a success.” - His futuristic self replied. “Mission this, mission that. First it was NesTea, and now even you. What’s with this mission thing?” - His impatience that was building up ever since the previous abrupt conversation has finally surfaced. He needed an answer to this mysterious prophecy that was going on.
“Okay, listen carefully, I can’t stay here for long. Has of the House Yoe, first of his name, Lord of the Pylon Walls, has decided to possess his brother, the great Dark Lord $O$. With the combination of $O$ skills and ability, and his wicked mind, he has decided to take over the world. Pylons… Cannons… destruction are everywhere. You have to turn back in time and stop $O$ from winning the GSL. You are the chosen one, only you can stop Has and $O$. “ - His future self, in contrary to him, explained everything calmly. How ironic! He is ByuN; he’s no one, not even the most important person of his life cared about him. No, in fact, he was just brutally rejected. Why should he care about this stuff? “And what if I don’t want to be the hero that will rescue the world?” - He considered out loud.
There was a glimpse of desperation in the eyes of neo-ByuN, and then he replied “I knew you would ask this question. NesTea has aligned the ByuLs for you in the alternate world. People will help you, and in a way… you will have him. This is your only chance, for anything good will ever happen to you.”
Should he believe in this? Every single nerve in his body is telling him to not trust this… illusion of him, whatever it is. Yet, he felt like there was indeed a much greater force around him, persuading, telling and waiting for him to accept the quest.
And so he did.
Neo-ByuN smiled with such satisfaction, that he never thought that he could pulled off. He warned him one last time in a serious tone.
“You’re going to be sent back in the past, to right when $O$ ascends to the throne for the second time. Your mission is a long and harsh one, but do not give up midway. You will get what you want at the end. Remember, this is not only for the sake of yours, but also for the world. You are changing history, and that is a treacherous path. You must not tell anyone where you are from, or which time-line you are from, or else all of your… all of our hard works will amount to nothing. Now go.”
The next moment, ByuN felt as if his whole being was being forced into a single cell, and it was drained through a singularity. He saw FlaSh smiling down upon him as he desperately struggling to free himself.
Then it stopped.
Suddenly, he found himself being able to breath and move freely once more. Looking around, ByuN was in his room again, INnoVation is smiling in the picture hung above his head. His puppy was sleeping besides him, oblivious to everything that just happened. He felt fresh like never before; his wrists felt like it has never endured a day of pain. He knew what he has to do, and he was ready.
I would like to thank Stuchiu for giving the idea of Has, and I would like to thank Elentos and Penev for the idea of "aligning ByuLs". I worked very hard to write this fanfic, and I hope you guys would find this a a good gam- fanfic.
The depots rose eventually, locking the remaining SCVs in with the zerglings and banelings. ByuN stared at the remains of his mineral line for a few more seconds before GGing out. IEM São Paulo wasn’t going to be his.
The last few weeks had been difficult ones. His losses felt hopeless, and his wins felt undeserved. Sascri should have been an easy opponent, yet victory had slipped away all the same.
ByuN cuddled his puppy. He hadn’t felt this poorly about Starcraft since GSL Open Season 2. “I was playing Protoss back then,” he reminisced. “Now that was a nightmare.” In truth, it wasn’t the game itself that was troubling him these days. It was the stuff outside of it that poisoned his enjoyment.
ByuN’s phone rang. He looked at the caller ID. It was Gerrard. He considered not answering. The thought was very tempting, but he knew there would be a price to pay for doing so. Was it worth it? The phone rang again. ByuN answered.
“So you lost again.” said the unpleasant voice of Prime’s coach. “Why am I not surprised?”
“It’s only a foreign tournament,” answered ByuN. “The GSL qualifiers are coming up. I can get back into form before then. I will do better there.”
“You will try no doubt, just like you will also try to show good game for the fans, yes?” said Gerrard. “Luckily there is no one around with enough expectations to be disappointed in either.”
ByuN contained his rage in silence, aware that at the other end of the line Gerrard was waiting, hoping for an outburst, an opportunity to deliver more scathing comments. Five seconds went by. Then ten. Gerrard chuckled softly. “You know you have not done the team proud this year ByuN. It was all Maru, and with Maru gone who will step up to the plate? You? No, you do not have the skills anymore. So how exactly will you help the team?”
ByuN remained silent again, but he knew that this time the silence was not on his side. Gerrard was going to try to convince him again.
“Why won’t you participate in the tournament, ByuN. Do you not owe it to Prime? Owe it to me?” said Gerrard. “Rich gentlemen are willing to sponsor us in this.”
“There is no... honour in this underground cup.” said ByuN haltingly. “It is wrong.”
“Only the skillful have the luxury of choosing their stage.” said Gerrard. “You do not deserve the choice in such matters.”
“These rich men are Jopok.” eventually said ByuN. He had wanted to avoid bringing that up. He knew what was coming next. “Morally, I cannot work for them.”
“Morals?” hissed Gerrard. “You didn’t have any of those when you shamed me by match-fixing with CoCa at the ESV Weekly. And worse yet, getting caught. You better lose your new-found morals or lose your position on the team. And remember how much you owe me.”
Gerrard hung up before ByuN could reply, not that there was anything to reply to that. That’s how it always went. Over the past few weeks Gerrard had seized every opportunity to hound him about this underground tournament. The Jopok wagered incredible sums of money on these illicit tournaments. Many Jopok even had their own secret teams made from tempting successful players with money, or by recruiting the dregs of the Starcraft scene. ByuN had heard rumours of these dark tournaments even back in his NEX days, but had never believed in them.
ByuN turned to the ladder. It was the only thing to do. The other players would not practice with him, not with Gerrard this angry at him. And maybe, just maybe, if he found his skill again and made it to the GSL, Gerrard would be happy and would stop trying to get him to play in that tournament. ByuN lost the first five games to blink stalkers. And then he lost a game as long as the previous five to swarm hosts. ByuN decided to go to sleep.
***
When he woke up, there was a man sitting next to his bed.
“Who are you? How did you get in?” asked ByuN.
“Your coach was nice enough to lend us a key.” answered the man. ByuN knew Gerrard did not have the key to ByuN’s flat. Or shouldn’t have the key.
“Get out immediately. I will call the police.” said ByuN.
“You won’t.” said the man. “You know better.”
“Maybe I won’t, but I still won’t work for you.” said ByuN.
The man seemed to think a bit about, and then pulled out a card. “All right. I will leave now. Call this number if you change your mind. My master is not a patient man, and he badly needs a terran for his team.” The man placed the card on a table, and then calmly left.
ByuN knew this was too good to be true. The Jopok didn’t make house calls without a reason. He felt like he had just spotted a warp prism leaving his main without doing anything. There had to be a reason.
ByuN looked around. And then searched the apartment. They had taken his puppy.
***
One week later, ByuN was at the studio with Gerrard. He hadn’t been able to sleep. His practice had gotten worse. And yet he had to play.
“Relax ByuN.” said Gerrard slightly sarcastically. “You said you would be able to crush the GSL qualifiers after all. An underground qualifier like this means nothing to you. Nothing except for a lot of prestige for our sponsors and a lot of money for us.”
“My puppy...” started ByuN.
“Will be returned to you in due time once our friends are satisfied.” interrupted Gerrard. “Crush these amateurs and you’ll be fine.” With deep misgivings, ByuN followed Gerrard to the player area. He didn’t recognize anyone, though many of the players seemed to be wearing odd masks with barcodes printed on them.
“Some players use their skills to gain fame in the public scene, as well as for making money in the underground scene,” explained Gerrard. “So they hide their faces behind barcode masks, so people don’t recognize them. Of course many of these underground circuit failures choose to wear the masks to intimidate their opponents. Don’t worry about it. Your seat is here.”
ByuN took his seat. The person seated next to him seemed to be a foreigner. He wore sharp sunglasses, and carried a wheel of Gouda with him. ByuN had the impression that he had seen him before.
“Taiwanese mercenary.” said Gerrard who was just as surprised as ByuN when the foreigner pulled out a second wheel of Gouda out of his bag along with his keyboard and mouse. “Some groups that don’t have the influence to secure a top player in Korea try to use their overseas connections. Now focus on the games.”
Despite ByuN’s nervousness, the first series went well. His opponent 10 pooled every game (even on Alterzim), and lost every game. “Now why would he go for such a bad build?” wondered ByuN.
The second series was even shorter. The opponent had monitor issues and tried to pause, but typed “pp” instead of “ppp”. Immediately men in suits appeared, seemingly out of thin air, and led him out of the room through a hidden door. ByuN glanced inquiringly at Gerrard, and was shocked to see the sweat beading down Gerrard’s forehead. Everyone in the room was deadly scared of those men (except for the foreigner who was too busy killing a zerg with mass carriers). Gerrard answered curtly: “Dark KeSPA. Don’t ask.”
The third and final opponent ByuN had to face looked vaguely familiar. He had seen him before. Maybe in Proleague? But now wasn’t the time to worry about others. He had to win for his puppy.
This opponent was a very good player playing a very aggressive roach style that threatened to overwhelm ByuN at every turn. Eventually ByuN prevailed more out of luck than anything else. He had won, and his puppy lived to fight another day. He picked up his mouse and keyboard and was about to leave after Gerrard when he saw his last opponent pleading at the feet of some Jopok. He was begging for another chance. The Jopok slowly shook his head and signalled to his henchmen; they surged forward and grabbed ByuN’s unfortunate opponent.
As they dragged him away ByuN’s opponent cried out: “I am Bear. I am the Unofficial World Champion, and nothing you do can change that. Someone, please, remember me!” ByuN sadly shook his head—was that to be his fate one day?
***
It was the day of the new year. It was the day of the Ro32 of the unnamed underground tournament. It was the day ByuN would get his puppy back.
ByuN’s first opponent was the foreigner. This time he had come equipped with a wheel of provolone, and was arguing with the referee, pointing out that ByuN was allowed his Pocari Sweat. Grudgingly the referee acquiesced to the provolone’s presence in the booth.
The first game was on Habitation Station. ByuN decided to open Gangnam terran, but found to his horror that there were three probes there waiting for him, trying to block his CC. Despite ByuN’s superior worker numbers the probes ducked and weaved preventing the CC from landing. Eventually they went away, and ByuN was able to start to mine. “It’s going to be alright.” thought ByuN. “He must have delayed his economy to do this.” Then the cannons started to shoot the SCVs from the low ground.
The next game was on Alterzim. ByuN was ready this time. His opponent was nothing but a cheeser. As long as he was prepared, there was nothing the opponent could do. The Taiwanese Protoss opened with a cannon rush, but this time ByuN held it with ease. He was slightly surprised by the follow-up oracles, but they too were eventually held off. The DTs succeeded in getting quite a few kills, but ByuN pushed them back. Then 20 void rays flew into his natural and destroyed everything.
ByuN was now facing elimination, so he watched his potential opponents’ games with greater intensity than he had ever done before. Both of his possible opponents were zergs wearing the barcode mask. They were both frighteningly quick at micro-ing their zergling, baneling and locusts. It was ZvZ, so he didn’t learn much, but there was something disquieting about one of the players’ zergling micro. It was hauntingly familiar.
Six hours later, ByuN was facing that zergling micro himself. It had a magnetic quality, an ability to enthral both opponents and viewers. And it was micro ByuN had often seen on the public stage. It was micro that had won a GSL more than a year ago. And it was micro that was outclassing ByuN today. ByuN was crying now, and he didn’t know if he was crying for himself and his puppy, or for the future of the Starcraft scene.
ByuN stumbled out of the studio. Gerrard had left the studio right as ByuN had left the game. He had to find him to ask for another chance. He would play in any tournament Gerrard asked him to. He would do everything for him without a question. He just needed another chance.
As he crossed the road, ByuN heard a barking sound. He turned around. It was his puppy. They were giving it back to him after all. Gerrard was giving him another chance. His puppy stumbled towards him from across the street.
Neither ByuN nor the puppy saw the car coming. They didn’t hear it accelerate right as the puppy crossed the road. But ByuN saw the car’s front wheel strike his puppy. He heard the sickening crunch of his puppy striking the road and bouncing down the street. He heard Gerrard’s bitter laughter as the car rolled away. And he heard his own despair resonating across the city.
***
“Are you ByuN?”
ByuN looked up. There was a Chinese man standing there. He didn’t know any Chinese men. It couldn’t be him he was talking to.
“You are ByuN.”
ByuN looked up again. The Chinese man was still there. Maybe he was talking to him. Or maybe not. Did it matter?
“What have you been doing over the past few days? You are filthy.”
ByuN couldn’t remember the past few days. He couldn’t remember the past few minutes even. There had been a Chinese man he thought. Or maybe there hadn’t been.
“I know what happened at the underground tournament ByuN. I am sorry for you and the others.”
The Chinese man that might not be there was sorry for him. Sorry for what? ByuN tried to remember, and then regretted his decision immediately. There was nothing to remember. It was safer not to remember.
“You must shake yourself out of it ByuN. I know it’s hard, but we can’t keep letting things like this happen. We have to clean up Starcraft ByuN. We have to act.”
The Chinese man was reminding him of uncomfortable things. Of people he knew. Of things he had done. Of how he had once loved Starcraft.
“I will sponsor your myself ByuN. We will join their underground league and destroy it utterly from within. I have introduced others into their league, but I still need a champion to succeed. You can be that champion ByuN. I know you have the potential.”
Potential. He had thought he had had that once. Before Gerrard. Before everything had happened.
“We will bring them to justice ByuN. All of them. No matter how long it takes. And then you will be able to get away from the dark side of Starcraft. You will be able to return to the Starcraft scene we love.”
ByuN looked up, and kept looking up. The man was extending a hand. ByuN considered it for a while, and then took it. Starcraft still needed him, and he still needed Starcraft.
"I have to go. I must." Byun shook his head in despair. Tears filled his eyes as he glimpsed one last time towards the beautiful face of the woman that would keep his heart safe and sound while he'd be on the great mission. The mission that Innovation had laid on his shoulders. The responsibility was a heavy burden.
He breathed one last kiss on the warm cheek of his wife, then he left. The door closed with the sound of inevitability.
There was noone he could talk to. Noone he could trust. All he knew was that the mission required absolutey discretion. What he was about to do would absolutely ruin his homeland. It would make countless pros retire, it would would shatter dreams of young and old alike.
"Are you sure?" "Yes." "There will be no glory. No reward. You will be left in the darkness, your name will be forgotten, even if you succeed. You will never ever return from your quest." "I know." "How can you not be nervous? I've seen countless warriors prepare for the final step you're about to take, and all of them showed fear, disappointment, even disgust when they were told what they had to do. But you're just standing there, as if you wouldn't care for the world at all." "That is my fate. It has always been my fate. I am ready."
The short dialogue went through his mind when he roamed through the streets of Seoul. His direction was straight north. The further he came, the less shining the buildings were. The neon signs were smaller, and dirt was on them. The houses weren't as tall as the skycrapers in the inner city. This district was known as a shady one. Drugs, gambling, prostitution, you name it, the district had it.
It was called The Gamer's Fall. A bar - but it didn't really deserve that name. The outside wall was stained, and he couldn't tell if he saw old, dried blood or just dirt. The door was disgusting and he pulled his sleeve over his hand before he touched the door knob. When he finally entered, he had to cough. Big clouds of grey and blue smoke had seemingly replaced all the oxygen. He glanced around the room. The "guests" were dilapidated folks. Beards that had not been shaved since weeks, teeth that hadn't been brushed for months. The whole room smelled musty and the taste of alcohol was in the air. Let alone the fume from the many pipes and zigarettes (and worse) made him dizzy.
But then he straightened himself. He knew what he had to do. From the depths of his trousers, he pulled a gun. "Show me where he is!" Pointing the barrel towards the bartender, he completely disregarded the panic that broke out in the room. "What the fuck is wrong with you, boy?!" The bartender wasn't impressed. Not at all. Slowly he led his hand under the counter. Byun knew he had to shoot - but he didn't. When the bartender pulled up his own gun and pointed it towards the boy, it was Byun who suddenly felt weak and fearful. He dropped his own gun, and then he felt the back of his head exploding in pain. Unconcious, he sank to the floor.
When he woke up, he was tied down to a chair. The light was dim, and he couldn't recognize how many people were with him in this room. But then he saw a face he knew.
"You." Frostiness were in his voice as he finally realized that he had made it. And yet there was sadness. The training of the past years paid off. It took him only a second to get rid of his shackles, and he exploded in a series of precise blows that knocked out every single person in this room.
He looked around in awe. This is what I've been trained for. It was all there. The documents that proved the guilt. The money. The suspect.
"What have you done, Lee Seung Hyun", he sighed.
One week later, TL.net editor Lichter sat on his table, browsing the internet. He was bored. No interesting bans, no live report threads to enjoy. It was when he finally wanted to go to bed when he the news one last time.
"Unknown hero blows underground matchfixing ring - you won't believe which pros were caught!"
EPT
