EPTCode S RO32 - Group E & F Previews
It's crunch time in GSL Code S with the remaining RO32 groups crammed into a five day span. Even the most dedicated fans will be hard pressed to keep up with so much StarCraft II action, and the TeamLiquid.net writers are scrambling to keep up with the previews.
Group E: Zest, PartinG, Impact, ByuN
by OrlokStart time: Tuesday, Jul 17 9:30am GMT (GMT+00:00)
The biggest question for
Zest and his fans headed into the group is the whether or not he is truly championship caliber again. The doubters were justified early this year—despite quarterfinal appearances in Code S Season 1 and IEM PyeongChang, Zest's overall form left a lot to be desired. Crushing defeats (especially in PvZ) continued to cut his tournament runs short. A grand finals appearance in Code S Season 2 has made the Zest dilemma much more interesting. He did not look especially dominant on the way (except against Dear) and many would argue that he drew the lucky side of the bracket. He showed tenacity by grinding out a 4-3 win against TY, but was ultimately undone by Maru. Things got even more complicated for Zest when he floundered at the recent HomeStory Cup XVII, with his catastrophic weakness in PvZ coming to fore once more.
Fortunately for our broad-shouldered Protoss, PvZ shouldn't be a problem for him in the RO32. Impact might be worthy of being called Zest's 'rival' when taking online competition into account, but history has shown that Impact vs Code S is a far worse match-up than Zest vs Zerg. Armed with some of the best PvP in Korea, Zest shouldn't have too much trouble advancing.
PartinG, the father of the infamous soul train, has managed to make it back to the GSL. While it's always great news to see a player with PartinG’s resume return to StarCraft II, he’s in danger of departing Code S after making a very brief cameo. Compared to how good he was originally, PartinG's play has been very disappointing since his return. It's clear that retirement/trying-to-go-pro-in-other-games has taken a toll on his skill, and he failed to qualify for Code S in 2018's previous seasons. Even this season’s qualification rests on a weak foundation, as he barely came through with wins over Neeb and the retired ByuL (not the toughest opponents in the current field). Like Zest, PartinG's biggest weakness is his agonizingly brittle PvZ, where it's apparent on both his stream and official tournaments that he can’t beat anyone of true Code S caliber. His recent winrates don’t show any sign that he’s making any headway towards improving. The saving grace he has coming into this event is that his other two match-ups look strong statistically, and perhaps with a little luck and mirror matchup madness, he might sneak through this group.
Group E's solo Zerg
Impact is a player who just can't shake off his first-round jitters. He seems doomed to be forever stuck in the purgatory of “good but not great.” His online results are quite good, but they don't seem to matter at all when he enters the AfreecaTV studio. It’s a pity in more ways than one, as he's capable of winning against any player of any race in online competition. That's been a good predictor of an offline champion in the past, but in this case we've only seen Impact be a first round fixture.Just looking at the numbers from Impact's online play, you'd think he would be a favorite to get out of this group. However, even when he was in better form and had more momentum behind him, he failed to get out of the RO32. Impact is a player you really want to give the benefit of the doubt, but overwhelming weight of past results makes it tough to predict him to advance.
Byun enters as the X-factor for this group. After Classic unceremoniously dumped him out of the previous quarterfinals, ByuN hasn’t been all that active during the off-season. His only recorded foray since his elimination were the GSL qualifiers one other online qualifier. This lack of games played between seasons makes it incredibly hard to tell what kind of form ByuN will show up in. Will he shut-up the naysayers who scoffed and called him lucky through his entire run? Or will he prove the haters correct, styling on lesser players before falling apart in front of the real contenders? It’s hard to tell, but going by what we've seen so far, one is more inclined to believe that it will be a case of the latter. However, similar to Zest, ByuN at least looks stronger than the players in this group, and should not have too much trouble advancing unless Impact and PartinG are playing at a completely new level.
Predictions:
While he may not be the world’s strongest Protoss right now, Zest and his overall consistency should be enough to clinch a ticket to the round of 16 in first place. While a match against Impact may mar his chances, it’s also rather unlikely going to happen with ByuN’s overall decent TvZ. On the other hand, I can’t fathom how a much-weakened PartinG could advance, even after dedicating a year to getting back in Code S. As such, it should be a clash between Impact and ByuN for the deciding spot. With ByuN’s better results this year (and the famous Impact curse) I have to give him the edge.
Zest 2 - 1 PartinG
Impact 1 - 2 ByuN
Zest 2 - 0 ByuN
PartinG 0 - 2 Impact
ByuN 2 - 1 Impact
Zest and ByuN to advance.
Group F: TY, RagnaroK, Bunny, Trap
by Mizenhauer
Start time: Wednesday, Jul 18 9:30am GMT (GMT+00:00)
The Least, and Yet Most Important Match
The Round of 32 is only the beginning of the Code S journey, but for many it marks the end of the road. Failing at such a juncture is infinitely disappointing to the competitors, but at least early in the year, there's still 'next season' to look forward to. After dozens of unrealized dreams and squandered opportunities we find ourselves at a juncture where there is no 'next time.' This is the last chance to win a spot at BlizzCon.
Ragnarok and Bunny are well acquainted with the pain of early exits, though their torments have takem different forms. Ragnarok made his return to Code S in Season 1 this year after failing to qualify in 2017. He didn’t deliver, however, dropping matches out of his group without winning a game. Truth be told, it’s an unsurprising result for PSISTORM’s latest Korean acquisition. He’s only fought his way to Code S four times over the course of his career and he’s never broken through to the next round. Ragnarok has proven time and again that he’s simply not on the level of a legitimate Round of 16 hopeful.One might wonder if Ragnarok’s quiet, predictable exits are a preferable fate to that of Bunny who made it to the Round of 16 in his first Code S back in 2015 before reaching that stage two additional times in 2017. He’s been less successful this year however, falling one match short of advancing in Season 1 and 2 despite signs that he might be capable of making that jump to the next level.
While it’s not something you really brag about, Bunny is undoubtedly more accomplished than Ragnarok. He is most likely far more talented as well, but he too has been unable to clear the first hurdle this year. GSL group seeding makes sure that Code S remains a brutal, self-reinforcing meritocracy.
As Bunny and Ragnarok fight an uphill battle to escape the RO32, there's another tier of players who take advancing from that graveyard of hopes and dreams for granted. The gap between Round of 32 players and Round of 16 players is as wide as it’s ever been: 45 players took part in GSL this year, but only 21 have reached the Round of 16 over the course of three seasons. The difference between someone like Ragnarok and Bunny may be large, but it far less meaningful than the gulf between Bunny and players like
Trap and TY.The disparity between Trap and TY’s careers cannot be understated, but the two of them have been making the Round of 32 look similarly routine for years. Trap may not have the trophy collection or bankroll of this groupmate, but he’s cleared the first stage of Code S in five of his last six trips. The next stage which has been troublesome for Trap, however, as he’s fallen one match short of surviving the Round of 16 on each of those occasions. Stats eliminated him in Season 1 while TY ended Trap’s tournament last season. It’s clear that Trap has transcended the Round of 32, but thus far he’s lacked the class to take that next step.
Trap may have made a living out of Round of 16 exits, but TY would be mortified if he were to bow at such an early stage with any regularity. Having reached the elimination rounds six of seven times in LotV, the Splyce Terran boasts some of the most consistent finishes when it comes to GSL this expansion.
And, while Trap would pine for such an impressive resume, TY hasn’t stopped there. He made the finals in 2016 and reached the semifinals last season. TY’s paucity of online results raises constant questions as to his form, but his level of play rarely wavers when it comes to high profile competition. Three years atop the Terran ranks means TY enters this group bearing a burden unlike any of his fellow competitors.
While Bunny and Ragnarok will scrabble and claw to see another day, advancing from the Round of 32 seems to be a given for TY and Trap, who know from experience that titles are not earned at such an early stage. But with BlizzCon looming, the landscape morphs into something far more severe. Suddenly there is no room for error. One slip up and any of these players could be playing their final match of the year. Group F, contrived as it may usually be for someone like Trap or TY, becomes the same fight to the death which has consumed Bunny and Ragnarok time and again.
Predictions
TY 2 > 0 
RagnaroKBunny 1 < 2 
TrapTY 2 > 1 TrapBunny 2 > 0 RagnaroKBunny 0 < 2 TrapTY and Trap to advanceS-Class: A GSL Fan Fiction
by MizenhauerMizenhauer
![[image loading]](/staff/Waxangel/bird_blue_16.png)
Will TeamLiquid.net continue to be a safe-space for fanfic? Perhaps this week's chapters in this ongoing serial will decide...
Zest
Lightning cracked, shadows jumped, and Zest’s mad cackle split the air. His hands were a blur, the scalpel a shooting star. Blood stained his lab coat while even more foul fluids were caked on the slab of wood upon which he worked. Thunder like kettle drums drowned out coiled generators three stories tall. The silo was cavernous, its white walls plastered with depictions of the optimal anatomical form in diagram and word. The space reeked of ozone, ichor and the pile of corpses rotting away in the corner.
Where am I was a common question one asked upon finding themselves strapped to Zest’s table. Where am I? Who the f!@k are you? Zest, never concerned with courtesy, didn’t bother to tell them that you’d never find his laboratory on a map. He never even offered them his name before setting to work. Isolated as it was, no one ever heard the shouts coming from within these wall -.the screams and howls as he reshaped flesh and bone.
Zest lowered his instruments and took a deep breath. As much as it pained him, he’d have to leave if he were to elevate his craft. Despite exhaustive efforts he’d yet to create the perfect human, though his search very well may have been nearing completion.
Maru was the perfect subject, the same man who had eluded Zest years before. Now that the games were beginning once more, Zest would travel to Seoul, root out his old adversary and use him as a template for the ideal creature. Lighting split the air and Zest’s laughter built to a crescendo.
“Are you ready Maru?” He shrieked. “I’m coming for you!”
PartinG
Speechwriting was a varied field. When most thought of speeches they generally thought of pandering politicians, corporate presentations or one of the played out acceptance speeches at some awards ceremony. There was a certain refined dignity in sculpting those sorts of speeches. It took a deft had to convey humility, honesty and heartfelt commitment.
PartinG took a long drag of his cigarette. He wasn’t sure how to characterize himself, but he wasn’t any of those things. But somehow, he’d become one of the most in demand speechwriters in the world, albeit in a rather niche field.
Professional wrestling wasn’t the biggest attraction in Korea, but over in America millions tuned in to watched roided up, oiled up, riled up competitors duke it out in the most absurdly dramatized exhibition of bulls!@t known to man. Anyone who tuned in would naturally be swept up by the tension, the excitement, the thrill!!! But it wasn’t just about fighting, because sometimes it takes word to stir the heart’s of fans. That’s where PartinG came in.
Never one to actually get into a physically confrontation, PartinG had inexplicably mastered the art of trash talk and preening. In a rather circuitous journey that had seen him dodge a few beatings, he had come into contact with Vince McMahon. Nowadays, when WWE needed a speech for their newest favorite, they called PartinG. The hours may have been weird due to the time zones and the assignments sometimes preposterous, but the pay was good.
Not good enough, though. PartinG had been drinking a lot lately and Johnny Walker Gold Label wasn’t cheap. He was barrelling towards debt and, since he would never dream of slowing down his drinking habit, he needed to make money fast.
He’d never gotten into a fight, but that was the only answer. As much as he hated to admit it, today was his last day writing speeches. Tomorrow he’d throw himself into the fray for once. He might not have been a favorite to become king of the world, but he’d do whatever it took to usurp Maru and keep the alcohol flowing. Sure, PartinG definitely wasn’t a favorite, but sometimes you had to do what you had to do.
Impact
“F!@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@k!” Impact roared as he threw the balled up paper into the corner. Every f!@#ing time! No matter how many hours he spent in cram school. No matter how many practice exams he aced. Even when he took the most meticulous notes and got the perfect amount of sleep it didn’t matter. The other kids at the cram school called him the Captain of the Computer Sign Pen, but when push came to shove it was never enough.
He’d never get into his first choice high school at this rate. He wouldn’t get into the right university and he’d never wind up on the correct career path. Of course he had big dreams. That was natural. His teachers said he was one of the brightest kids they’d ever encountered. Was that actually the case or was it all lip service? He wasn't sure anymore. His resolve was wavering. If he really was that good, why did he keep doing so badly when it mattered?
Impact clenched his eyes shut and held his breath. Maybe this whole traditional education thing wasn’t for him. But what was left for you then? Only a lunatic would do something crazy like leaving everything behind and blindly charging into Seoul to take part in Maru’s growing brawl...
Impact leapt to his feet, scooped up his wallet and phone and heading out the door. Lunatic? Maybe, but whatever he was now wasn’t working too well. It was time to change things up because, frankly, if he had to look at another multiple choice exam he was going to rip his eyeballs out.
ByuN
“The state of Korea is strong!” Cheers. Cheers! CHEERS! ByuN raised his fist in the air and reveled in the adoration. Thousands of faces clapping, screaming and chanting his name. ByuN’s grin widened as he departed the podium. He made his way off the stage, offering handshakes to his advisors as he slipped out of view.
“Well done, sir,” His assistant whispered as he directed ByuN towards the exit. “Your meeting with the District Office Head has been pushed back one hour so you’ll be able to stop at the office first if you want.” ByuN ducked into his limo. He sighed as the door shut behind him, the buzz of the crowd lingering in his ears.
Who would have thought that the disillusioned boy who had wandered the countryside for years would grow up to become a member of Parliament. A long way removed from sleeping in alleys and under bridges, he now slept in a plush king sized bed with his ex-model wife nestled against his side in one of the grandest penthouse suites in Seoul.
As one of the leading political figures in Korea, he drove to work in one of the few Rolls-Royce in the country. He sat behind a 10,000,000 dollar desk and had a staff of hundreds at his beck and call.
He was beloved by the people, a bastion of all that was just and righteous…
It wasn’t enough. He needed more. More power, more fame, more money. There was only one way. For all of ByuN’s clout, he was a mere gnat compared to Maru. ByuN knew the only way he would ever truly make it big was to forcibly take the diminutive king’s crown.
The path lay before him. The games had already begun if you believed the whispers. It was time for ByuN to enter the ring. Yes, he would miss drives like this, but he was sure whatever Maru rode in was 100 times nicer than this piece of s!@t.
TY
The man was big. No, really big and covered in tattoos, but TY didn’t say a word as he shouted, ““What the f!@k are you looking at, pipsqueak?” TY continued his march, savoring the man’s stare and laugher. “Hey, guys, get a look at this kid.” His fists balled. He was only a few meters away. “Guess I’ll have to teach you a....”
“Hold the f!@k up.” TY and his would be opponent’s attention instantly snapped to the far end of the club where a disheveled looking man wearing an ill fitting suit had burst in from some side room. “Are you seriously gonna fight a kid?”
“Who are you calling kid,” TY muttered. Well, Objectively, being 12 years old he was a kid. So newcomers outrage and shock was understandable. Short, with thin limbs and face which was perpetually dour, TY didn’t look tough, definitely not tough enough to fight one of the deadliest men in the Korean underground. Everyone in the club probably thought he had a death wish coming in here like this, but they didn’t know TY was a world class martial artist and deadly in his own right.
TY had won more tournaments than he could count at this point, earning collecting trophies competing against people twice his age. Magazine covers and interviews were nice, but the truth was he’d gotten so bored with organized fights that he’d taken to sauntering into places like this and picking fights. TY was a simple kid. He liked tteokbokki, gimbap and fighting. He’d already had the first two for dinner, now it was time for dessert.
The newcomer’s panicked expression never faded as he raced towards TY whose expression turned quizzical as the man grasped his upper arm and leaned close.
“Look, kid, you’ve gotta get out of here. You don’t want anything to do with these guys.” He hissed.
“What if I do?” TY calmly retorted.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Look, you gotta be out of your mind coming here. This has always been a bad neighborhood, but its been really dangerous since Maru started up the games. This guy’s bad enough, but stick around and you’ll run into far worse.
“Even worse?” TY’s eyebrows arched. He allowed the man to lead him to the exit as thoughts of grand combat swam through his head.
“You know, you really are crazy, kid. You gotta get out of here before something bad happens to you.”
“You said worse people, right?”
“Yeah, whatever, are you listening to me?”
TY started off without responding. He recognized Maru’s name, everyone in combat sports knew about the best fighter out there and everyone knew who sat on the throne as king of the world. TY cast a glance behind him before entering the subway. All TY wanted was to test himself against a worthy foe. If Maru was involved, TY was sure to find the fight he was looking for.
Ragnarok
Ragnarok was a man misplaced. Born in Korea, he’d never felt quite at home. While some kids snacked on seaweed, he preferred authentic Cheetos and Sour Patch Kids. His friends went to Doosan Bears games with their parents, but he stayed up into the wee hours of the night to watch the Atlanta Braves play a matinee against the New York Mets
If you asked him what his favorite TV show was, he’d probably say King of the Hill or Baywatch. If you asked him what he’d been listening to lately, he’d snap off something by Brad Paisley or Tim McGraw. If you asked him to recommend you a beer, darn tootin’ you’d get a speech about how great Miller Lite was God’s gift to mankind. If you asked him what he was doing on Sunday you already knew that he had plans to watch the Dallas Cowboys take on the New York Giants. If you hadn’t figured it out at that point, he’d flat out tell you. You see, there was only one way Ragnarok described himself. He was an Ameriphile.
Despite the fact that there wasn’t anyone more American in Korea than Ragnarok, the actual process of getting to that great country wasn’t going so well. He’d been waiting on his visa for years, but the paperwork just wasn’t going through. It seemed his soon to be adopted nation was wary of strange people, understandably so, of course. Ragnarok reminded himself that the delay was merely a product of the times.
Of course there was a way around such impossible bureaucracy and, after all this waiting, Ragnarok was ready to put it all on the line to get the move he so desired. It was time to fight for his freedom, cruise downtown, find Maru and give him the beatdown of his life. Once Ragnarok inherited that shrimp’s crown he’d have no problem moving to a nice ranch in Texas or Oklahoma. Ragnarok took a long sip of his beer. The episode of Pawn Stars was almost. The beer wasn’t long for this world either. Just a few more minutes and he’d get up. Then he’d be on his way to good ol’ U S of A.
Bunny
“Thank you very much. Have a nice night.” The applause was weak as Bunny walked off the stage. He dragged his feet, half hoping someone would cheer a bit louder or offer a cheer or something, but it never came. It never did. Bunny slipped into the shadows, casting a lingering look at the interior of the JC Comedy Club. Empty chairs, dull faces and cracked, peeling paint. Bunny had no idea what to expect when he dropped out of school to become a standup comedian, but this… This wasn’t it.
Bunny’s gaze darted to either end of the alley before lighting his cigarette. He took a long draw, blankly following the smoke as it swirled towards the cloudy sky. It was Friday night and the traffic was loud. The pounding of footfalls was nearly as bad. Laughter and conversation rose from the nearby bars as men and women entered and exited, stumbling and joking without a care in the world.
Telling jokes wasn’t easy, but most people wouldn’t believe if you tried to convince them. Being a comedian was a difficult life filled with shady event organizers, furtive club owners and swindling agents. Paychecks weren’t guaranteed and you rarely had enough money to have a say where you spent the night. Bunny had been to every corner of Korea, telling the same jokes to minimal applause in a thousand seedy bars. He used to dream of performing in concert halls and massive venues all over the world. These days he was just looking for a way out.
He finally had one. His odds were slim, but taking out Maru would most definitely free him from this purgatory. Most people would probably consider risking his life unnecessary and reckless, but at least then he’d be reaching for something. He’d long since forgotten what ambition felt like. With a shake of the head, Bunny flicked the cigarette butt away and started towards the street. He couldn’t live like this any longer. It was time to make a change.
Trap
It wasn’t that he was unattractive. Lots of girls had said nice things about his smile over the years. It wasn’t that he was unintelligent. He’d ended the year in rank three or four ever since the start of middle school and got into a respectable college. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a nice job. He made a solid living, drove a nice new Hyundai and came home to a clean, well lit flat and his adorable, modest girlfriend. It wasn’t that Trap was unfortunate or bad at anything. It’s just that when your brother was a f!@#ing Kpop idol, your life tends to look s!@#ty in comparison.
Trap had spent years in his brother’s shadow. The same thing happened every time he went on a job interview or met somebody. Their eyes always widened the second they realized his name. It was painfully clear what they were thinking, “He’s his brother???”. Of course he was, but what was the big f!@#ing deal? Once and awhile they didn’t even have the tact to keep quiet about it and he’d have to endure an excruciating series of questions about someone who’d become too big and popular to even stop by on Chuseok.
Frankly, Trap was fed up with it. Sure, his life wasn’t bad, but he was sick of living in an ever deepening pit. Kpop was getting bigger and bigger and his brother was selling more and more records. Unlike his brother, Trap wasn’t the kind of guy who got shots at the bigtime, which was exactly why he had to take this one. And take it he would. Maru’s tournament was already underway. It was Trap’s turn to enter the melee. Take down the king and he’d be even more popular than his younger brother. Then he’d been be the one who’d get to lounge around at home while his brother was taking their grandmother to the hair salon. It put a smile on Trap’s face just thinking about it…
Yeah, that would the life.
Zest
Lightning cracked, shadows jumped, and Zest’s mad cackle split the air. His hands were a blur, the scalpel a shooting star. Blood stained his lab coat while even more foul fluids were caked on the slab of wood upon which he worked. Thunder like kettle drums drowned out coiled generators three stories tall. The silo was cavernous, its white walls plastered with depictions of the optimal anatomical form in diagram and word. The space reeked of ozone, ichor and the pile of corpses rotting away in the corner.
Where am I was a common question one asked upon finding themselves strapped to Zest’s table. Where am I? Who the f!@k are you? Zest, never concerned with courtesy, didn’t bother to tell them that you’d never find his laboratory on a map. He never even offered them his name before setting to work. Isolated as it was, no one ever heard the shouts coming from within these wall -.the screams and howls as he reshaped flesh and bone.
Zest lowered his instruments and took a deep breath. As much as it pained him, he’d have to leave if he were to elevate his craft. Despite exhaustive efforts he’d yet to create the perfect human, though his search very well may have been nearing completion.
Maru was the perfect subject, the same man who had eluded Zest years before. Now that the games were beginning once more, Zest would travel to Seoul, root out his old adversary and use him as a template for the ideal creature. Lighting split the air and Zest’s laughter built to a crescendo.
“Are you ready Maru?” He shrieked. “I’m coming for you!”
PartinG
Speechwriting was a varied field. When most thought of speeches they generally thought of pandering politicians, corporate presentations or one of the played out acceptance speeches at some awards ceremony. There was a certain refined dignity in sculpting those sorts of speeches. It took a deft had to convey humility, honesty and heartfelt commitment.
PartinG took a long drag of his cigarette. He wasn’t sure how to characterize himself, but he wasn’t any of those things. But somehow, he’d become one of the most in demand speechwriters in the world, albeit in a rather niche field.
Professional wrestling wasn’t the biggest attraction in Korea, but over in America millions tuned in to watched roided up, oiled up, riled up competitors duke it out in the most absurdly dramatized exhibition of bulls!@t known to man. Anyone who tuned in would naturally be swept up by the tension, the excitement, the thrill!!! But it wasn’t just about fighting, because sometimes it takes word to stir the heart’s of fans. That’s where PartinG came in.
Never one to actually get into a physically confrontation, PartinG had inexplicably mastered the art of trash talk and preening. In a rather circuitous journey that had seen him dodge a few beatings, he had come into contact with Vince McMahon. Nowadays, when WWE needed a speech for their newest favorite, they called PartinG. The hours may have been weird due to the time zones and the assignments sometimes preposterous, but the pay was good.
Not good enough, though. PartinG had been drinking a lot lately and Johnny Walker Gold Label wasn’t cheap. He was barrelling towards debt and, since he would never dream of slowing down his drinking habit, he needed to make money fast.
He’d never gotten into a fight, but that was the only answer. As much as he hated to admit it, today was his last day writing speeches. Tomorrow he’d throw himself into the fray for once. He might not have been a favorite to become king of the world, but he’d do whatever it took to usurp Maru and keep the alcohol flowing. Sure, PartinG definitely wasn’t a favorite, but sometimes you had to do what you had to do.
Impact
“F!@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@k!” Impact roared as he threw the balled up paper into the corner. Every f!@#ing time! No matter how many hours he spent in cram school. No matter how many practice exams he aced. Even when he took the most meticulous notes and got the perfect amount of sleep it didn’t matter. The other kids at the cram school called him the Captain of the Computer Sign Pen, but when push came to shove it was never enough.
He’d never get into his first choice high school at this rate. He wouldn’t get into the right university and he’d never wind up on the correct career path. Of course he had big dreams. That was natural. His teachers said he was one of the brightest kids they’d ever encountered. Was that actually the case or was it all lip service? He wasn't sure anymore. His resolve was wavering. If he really was that good, why did he keep doing so badly when it mattered?
Impact clenched his eyes shut and held his breath. Maybe this whole traditional education thing wasn’t for him. But what was left for you then? Only a lunatic would do something crazy like leaving everything behind and blindly charging into Seoul to take part in Maru’s growing brawl...
Impact leapt to his feet, scooped up his wallet and phone and heading out the door. Lunatic? Maybe, but whatever he was now wasn’t working too well. It was time to change things up because, frankly, if he had to look at another multiple choice exam he was going to rip his eyeballs out.
ByuN
“The state of Korea is strong!” Cheers. Cheers! CHEERS! ByuN raised his fist in the air and reveled in the adoration. Thousands of faces clapping, screaming and chanting his name. ByuN’s grin widened as he departed the podium. He made his way off the stage, offering handshakes to his advisors as he slipped out of view.
“Well done, sir,” His assistant whispered as he directed ByuN towards the exit. “Your meeting with the District Office Head has been pushed back one hour so you’ll be able to stop at the office first if you want.” ByuN ducked into his limo. He sighed as the door shut behind him, the buzz of the crowd lingering in his ears.
Who would have thought that the disillusioned boy who had wandered the countryside for years would grow up to become a member of Parliament. A long way removed from sleeping in alleys and under bridges, he now slept in a plush king sized bed with his ex-model wife nestled against his side in one of the grandest penthouse suites in Seoul.
As one of the leading political figures in Korea, he drove to work in one of the few Rolls-Royce in the country. He sat behind a 10,000,000 dollar desk and had a staff of hundreds at his beck and call.
He was beloved by the people, a bastion of all that was just and righteous…
It wasn’t enough. He needed more. More power, more fame, more money. There was only one way. For all of ByuN’s clout, he was a mere gnat compared to Maru. ByuN knew the only way he would ever truly make it big was to forcibly take the diminutive king’s crown.
The path lay before him. The games had already begun if you believed the whispers. It was time for ByuN to enter the ring. Yes, he would miss drives like this, but he was sure whatever Maru rode in was 100 times nicer than this piece of s!@t.
*******
TY
The man was big. No, really big and covered in tattoos, but TY didn’t say a word as he shouted, ““What the f!@k are you looking at, pipsqueak?” TY continued his march, savoring the man’s stare and laugher. “Hey, guys, get a look at this kid.” His fists balled. He was only a few meters away. “Guess I’ll have to teach you a....”
“Hold the f!@k up.” TY and his would be opponent’s attention instantly snapped to the far end of the club where a disheveled looking man wearing an ill fitting suit had burst in from some side room. “Are you seriously gonna fight a kid?”
“Who are you calling kid,” TY muttered. Well, Objectively, being 12 years old he was a kid. So newcomers outrage and shock was understandable. Short, with thin limbs and face which was perpetually dour, TY didn’t look tough, definitely not tough enough to fight one of the deadliest men in the Korean underground. Everyone in the club probably thought he had a death wish coming in here like this, but they didn’t know TY was a world class martial artist and deadly in his own right.
TY had won more tournaments than he could count at this point, earning collecting trophies competing against people twice his age. Magazine covers and interviews were nice, but the truth was he’d gotten so bored with organized fights that he’d taken to sauntering into places like this and picking fights. TY was a simple kid. He liked tteokbokki, gimbap and fighting. He’d already had the first two for dinner, now it was time for dessert.
The newcomer’s panicked expression never faded as he raced towards TY whose expression turned quizzical as the man grasped his upper arm and leaned close.
“Look, kid, you’ve gotta get out of here. You don’t want anything to do with these guys.” He hissed.
“What if I do?” TY calmly retorted.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Look, you gotta be out of your mind coming here. This has always been a bad neighborhood, but its been really dangerous since Maru started up the games. This guy’s bad enough, but stick around and you’ll run into far worse.
“Even worse?” TY’s eyebrows arched. He allowed the man to lead him to the exit as thoughts of grand combat swam through his head.
“You know, you really are crazy, kid. You gotta get out of here before something bad happens to you.”
“You said worse people, right?”
“Yeah, whatever, are you listening to me?”
TY started off without responding. He recognized Maru’s name, everyone in combat sports knew about the best fighter out there and everyone knew who sat on the throne as king of the world. TY cast a glance behind him before entering the subway. All TY wanted was to test himself against a worthy foe. If Maru was involved, TY was sure to find the fight he was looking for.
Ragnarok
Ragnarok was a man misplaced. Born in Korea, he’d never felt quite at home. While some kids snacked on seaweed, he preferred authentic Cheetos and Sour Patch Kids. His friends went to Doosan Bears games with their parents, but he stayed up into the wee hours of the night to watch the Atlanta Braves play a matinee against the New York Mets
If you asked him what his favorite TV show was, he’d probably say King of the Hill or Baywatch. If you asked him what he’d been listening to lately, he’d snap off something by Brad Paisley or Tim McGraw. If you asked him to recommend you a beer, darn tootin’ you’d get a speech about how great Miller Lite was God’s gift to mankind. If you asked him what he was doing on Sunday you already knew that he had plans to watch the Dallas Cowboys take on the New York Giants. If you hadn’t figured it out at that point, he’d flat out tell you. You see, there was only one way Ragnarok described himself. He was an Ameriphile.
Despite the fact that there wasn’t anyone more American in Korea than Ragnarok, the actual process of getting to that great country wasn’t going so well. He’d been waiting on his visa for years, but the paperwork just wasn’t going through. It seemed his soon to be adopted nation was wary of strange people, understandably so, of course. Ragnarok reminded himself that the delay was merely a product of the times.
Of course there was a way around such impossible bureaucracy and, after all this waiting, Ragnarok was ready to put it all on the line to get the move he so desired. It was time to fight for his freedom, cruise downtown, find Maru and give him the beatdown of his life. Once Ragnarok inherited that shrimp’s crown he’d have no problem moving to a nice ranch in Texas or Oklahoma. Ragnarok took a long sip of his beer. The episode of Pawn Stars was almost. The beer wasn’t long for this world either. Just a few more minutes and he’d get up. Then he’d be on his way to good ol’ U S of A.
Bunny
“Thank you very much. Have a nice night.” The applause was weak as Bunny walked off the stage. He dragged his feet, half hoping someone would cheer a bit louder or offer a cheer or something, but it never came. It never did. Bunny slipped into the shadows, casting a lingering look at the interior of the JC Comedy Club. Empty chairs, dull faces and cracked, peeling paint. Bunny had no idea what to expect when he dropped out of school to become a standup comedian, but this… This wasn’t it.
Bunny’s gaze darted to either end of the alley before lighting his cigarette. He took a long draw, blankly following the smoke as it swirled towards the cloudy sky. It was Friday night and the traffic was loud. The pounding of footfalls was nearly as bad. Laughter and conversation rose from the nearby bars as men and women entered and exited, stumbling and joking without a care in the world.
Telling jokes wasn’t easy, but most people wouldn’t believe if you tried to convince them. Being a comedian was a difficult life filled with shady event organizers, furtive club owners and swindling agents. Paychecks weren’t guaranteed and you rarely had enough money to have a say where you spent the night. Bunny had been to every corner of Korea, telling the same jokes to minimal applause in a thousand seedy bars. He used to dream of performing in concert halls and massive venues all over the world. These days he was just looking for a way out.
He finally had one. His odds were slim, but taking out Maru would most definitely free him from this purgatory. Most people would probably consider risking his life unnecessary and reckless, but at least then he’d be reaching for something. He’d long since forgotten what ambition felt like. With a shake of the head, Bunny flicked the cigarette butt away and started towards the street. He couldn’t live like this any longer. It was time to make a change.
Trap
It wasn’t that he was unattractive. Lots of girls had said nice things about his smile over the years. It wasn’t that he was unintelligent. He’d ended the year in rank three or four ever since the start of middle school and got into a respectable college. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a nice job. He made a solid living, drove a nice new Hyundai and came home to a clean, well lit flat and his adorable, modest girlfriend. It wasn’t that Trap was unfortunate or bad at anything. It’s just that when your brother was a f!@#ing Kpop idol, your life tends to look s!@#ty in comparison.
Trap had spent years in his brother’s shadow. The same thing happened every time he went on a job interview or met somebody. Their eyes always widened the second they realized his name. It was painfully clear what they were thinking, “He’s his brother???”. Of course he was, but what was the big f!@#ing deal? Once and awhile they didn’t even have the tact to keep quiet about it and he’d have to endure an excruciating series of questions about someone who’d become too big and popular to even stop by on Chuseok.
Frankly, Trap was fed up with it. Sure, his life wasn’t bad, but he was sick of living in an ever deepening pit. Kpop was getting bigger and bigger and his brother was selling more and more records. Unlike his brother, Trap wasn’t the kind of guy who got shots at the bigtime, which was exactly why he had to take this one. And take it he would. Maru’s tournament was already underway. It was Trap’s turn to enter the melee. Take down the king and he’d be even more popular than his younger brother. Then he’d been be the one who’d get to lounge around at home while his brother was taking their grandmother to the hair salon. It put a smile on Trap’s face just thinking about it…
Yeah, that would the life.
Credits and acknowledgements
Writers: Orlok, Mizenhauer
Editor: Wax
Images: AfreecaTV
Statistics: Aligulac.com
Writers: Orlok, Mizenhauer
Editor: Wax
Images: AfreecaTV
Statistics: Aligulac.com
