"It's not a total disaster." "Not as bad as I had feared." The critics are raving about Mizenhauer's GSL fanfic 'S-class,' and it continues on TeamLiquid.net

Stats

“And… Cut!” Stats was greeted by thunderous applause as he faced the crew and smiled. “That’s it then, isn’t it?” He called out, prompting a fresh bout of cheers.

Let them celebrate. He thought as he started towards his trailer, leaving the frivolity behind. The set was already crowded with actors, stuntmen, film crew and more slapping each other on the back and exchanging high fives. It had taken more than six months, but the biggest summer blockbuster ever to hit Korea had finally wrapped filming. By this time next year everyone would be lining up around the block to see Minepocalypse.

Some said Stats’ movies were over the top explosion fests, but he rather liked being compared to Michael Bay. Some said the rate of injury among his crew and actors was alarming. Sometimes you had to break a few bones to create something worthwhile. His critics were loud and in fine voice, but Stats knew better. He was great, truly great, and this new movie was going to knock everyone’s socks off.

Stats strode through the door, grabbed his backpack and stepped back into the summer heat. Most filmmakers would rest of their laurels and prepare themselves for the editing process, but that wasn’t Stats’ style. This movie may have been big, but there was an even bigger production starting up and he was going to be part of it no matter what.

Stats had never directed a documentary, but covering Maru’s gladiatorial competition was impossible to pass up. Sure he didn’t have express permission and he might need to fight a warrior or two along the way, but great art oftentimes required great sacrifice.

The helicopter rotors were already spinning as Stats stepped inside. The movie was done, but Minepocalypse would have to wait. Let his crew drink and party, he had more important business to attend to.


Hurricane

“Excuse me…” Hurricane glanced up from his over-seasoned black bean noodles to find a rather cute girl staring down at him. “You’re Hurricane aren’t you?” He smiled softly and shrugged.

“Yep, that’s me. What’s your n…”

“I just wanted to say that I love your commercials. The whole ‘Hurricane’s moving company, we bring it to your home’ is so precious.”

“Yeah, sure.” It was pretty clear this girl had no intention of carrying on a proper conversation. Hurricane returned to poking at his noodles while he waited for her to lose steam.

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. He supposed it came with the territory. Once a footballer over in England, Hurricane now owned the largest moving company in Korea. Anyone who didn’t know him from his playing days recognized his ads. A girl like this was probably too young to have ever seen him on the pitch, but it appeared his recent endeavors had made a real impression.

If he was being honest, the whole fame thing never got old. It was always nice to be fawned over, even by someone as self absorbed as this. Renown was an intoxicating drought they said. After a life in the limelight, Hurricane had to agree.

It was why he was willing to give it all up for a shot at even more. As a former star athlete and now accomplished businessman, Hurricane fancied him more than up for the task of taking out a little shrimp like Maru.

Hurricane looked up. The girl was already gone. He scowled. These noodles were more sludgey than engine grease. He dropped his chopsticks. It was time to get going. Hurricane pushed himself back from the table and rose to his feet. It was late and he had a long day tomorrow. It was about time he headed home.


Cure

If there was one thing Cure never got tired of was flying in his private jet. Comfortable, stylish, sleek and private, there really wasn’t any other way to travel.

A yawn escaped Cure’s lips as he opened his eyes. He gently nudged his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, sparing a glance out the window and the immensity of the Pacific Ocean. He’d been flying for hours, but the sun was only just coming up, lathering the infinite waves in golden light.

There really wasn’t any way to travel, but it was also the only fitting means of convenience for the leader of the Church of Eruc.

Once upon a time he’d been your standard run of the mill down on his luck minister. He spent his days in a run down church, retreating long after sunset to his flat in the seediest part of town. He was doing his best to make a living on the Korean Peninsula, but it wasn’t going all that well.

Cure wasn’t sure what had given him the idea, but broadcasting one of his sermons overseas had changed his entire life. Only one person watched the first show, but soon there were hundreds. Six months later tens of thousands watched every show and the donations were pouring in. Turned out foreigners were as gullible as they say. Two years later and his followers were devoted to the point of fanaticism. Some in the old church said he was running a cult. What did he care? He’d finally made it big.

But there were limits, even for the head of a international cult church. He may have been one of the richest men in the world, but he had a long way if he wanted to be the richest.

As luck would have it, he had a chance to skip to the front of the line. Killing Maru, who had foolishly started up the games one too many times, would secure him unfathomable wealth. Being head of a church cult was nice, but being king of the world was something you just didn’t pass up.

Cure lowered his eyelids and sighed. The plane wouldn’t land for hours. There wasn’t any point in getting all worked up now. His time would come soon enough. For now he was going to enjoy this jet.


INnoVation

“Thank you so much, Doctor.” The women wiped tears from her eyes as she stepped into the hallway.

“No problem at all,” INnoVation replied.

“I’ll reach out to my brother first thing this weekend,” she continued with a smile. INnoVation returned the look.

“I’ll see you this time next week then.”

“Of course.” She held her grin a moment longer before shutting the door, leaving him alone in his office.

As always, INnoVation was astonished how good he felt at the end of a session. He strode to his desk, absently adjusting some papers as his thoughts settled.

It was hard to figure out when a curious young boy that loved to talk to his friends about their thoughts truly started down this path, but helping people get in touch with their feelings had become a way of life for him. He reunited families. He helped people cope with loss. He salvaged relationships and helped his patients turn over a new leaf. It was enriching and satisfying in a way nothing else could ever be.

He wouldn’t be coming into the office tomorrow, though. One of his patient’s brothers had gone missing. A bus driver who had simply walked out on the job, no one knew where he’d gone. It wasn’t technically INnoVation’s responsibility, but he couldn’t pass up assisting a patient in need. He’d cleared his schedules for a day, moving all his appointments until every free moment was allocated for the rest of the week. He’d be busy as all hell, but this was something he had to do.

There was a knock at the door. Looks like it was time for the next session already. He straightened his tie and started towards the door. He’d be out of the office tomorrow, but there was still more to do today. Making people happy was just part of his nature. Time to get back to it.