Ju-Hyeok felt stunned when they revealed Hui-Chul’s illness. ‘He actually... allowed this?’ He never imagined that Hui-Chul would make such a decision. Knowing Hui-Chul’s personality, he would never kind of personal matter. There was nothing pleasant about letting the whole world know that he was terminally ill. And yet, he had made that choice. Someone with nothing left to gain and everything to lose... Why? Ju-Hyeok couldn’t understand it when the story first started to unfold, but then— “Joseon may not win next year. That’s okay. Please live the process.” Only after hearing those words did Ju-Hyeok finally understand. Hui-Chul wanted to leave something behind. He wanted to leave a message for the players, and not just the players he had trained. If that were the case, he would’ve just told them directly instead of a video. No, he also wanted to speak to the future players. Joseon could win again in the years to come, or maybe not. Regardless, they would continue to compete in the International Tournament. The roster would change every year. And many people who had nothing to do with Civil Empire before had grown interested after this tournament. Some of them could join the team one day. When they did, they would remember Hui-Chul’s words. Everyone who represented Joseon in the International Tournament would carry his message with them. That would be Hui-Chul’s legacy. “Even if we can’t reach the rainbow, that doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful.” With that, the Fake National Team series came to a close and the screen faded to black. Ju-Hyeok’s eyes trembled in the dark screen’s reflection. He immediately checked the response on online forums. Posts flooded in as he swiped down the screen. [Breaking: Cookie was actually playing with a terminal illness...] [What??? That really happened??] [Cookie... is a monster...] [The tournament was legendary] [He was preparing for the future because he knew he might not be there...] No matter the platform, every forum was on fire. The players already knew most of the story, but the public didn’t. All of Cookie’s plays, everything they had watched casually, now hit them completely differently. At that moment, Sang-Hyeon’s head popped in between Ju-Hyeok and the monitor. Sang-Hyeon had gone to grab a beer and noticed Ju-Hyeok’s watery eyes. "Gah! You scared me!" Startled by the sudden intrusion, Ju-Hyeok flinched and leaned back. "Who said I was crying!?" he snapped back. Sang-Hyeon just shook a can of beer and handed it to him. Feeling slightly tricked, Ju-Hyeok still took the beer. "You ran off to get beer just in case you cried, didn’t you?" "Ahem. Just open the damn thing." As Ju-Hyeok cracked it open, a gentle fizz rose from the can. Their two cans clinked together with a hollow sound. "Yeah... you more than me. I wasn’t even a player." They drank in sync and both let out a long sigh as if rehearsed. "But... what’s going to happen with Cookie?" Ju-Hyeok asked, glancing over. "Not sure... He said he’d get additional checkups after coming back to Korea, but I don’t know the results." The final episode, titled Miracle, made Ju-Hyeok hope for something more. ‘There wasn’t enough time...’ From the video’s timing, it was clear that the miracle didn’t refer to a physical one for Hui-Chul. It likely referred to Joseon’s victory, or a wish for the future. "Man... beer really does taste better here." Sang-Hyeon suddenly looked up at the ceiling. By here, he meant this house. Although the place looked run-down from the outside, it always felt warm and cozy inside. This had been Sang-Hyeon’s lifelong home. Over time, it had become Ju-Hyeok’s second home too. "This place just hits different. What are you going to do when we move?" "Will you cry again?" "I won’t cry, idiot! It’s not even my place! Why would I cry!?" Ju-Hyeok took another big swig of the beer and ripped into some dried squid. He tore into it like he was proving his manliness, making Sang-Hyeon chuckle. "Let’s keep doing this once in a while even after we move. It’s fun." The two of them sat around the computer, drinking beer and eating snacks. Back when they first started everything, Sang-Hyeon and Ju-Hyeok would do this three or four nights a week. They’d talk about what to stream, how many viewers they’d get, whether they’d start a company someday, and on and on... Wild, drunken dreams with no grounding in reality. Somehow, those dreams had come true, and they celebrated modestly tonight. Sure, it was also to toast a perfect end to the tournament. Most importantly, they wanted to recapture the spirit of when it all began, when they dared to dream. "She’s obviously at a company dinner with Director Jang. They just finished everything." Sang-Hyeon nodded wistfully and looked at the monitor. "So it’s really over." On the black screen, one message remained. [Thank you for loving the Fake National Team until now!] His gaze lingered on the words. They reminded him of the final messages shown in the last episodes of cartoons he once loved as a kid. "Yeah, but this is only the beginning." Ju-Hyeok looked at the screen too and said, "Just look at this. Who would’ve thought it’d end up ?" He was pointing at the video’s view count. Now that the premiere had ended, the regular views were tallying up to a staggering number. The comment section was exploding as well. — So what happened to Cookie? Why is it called "Miracle?” Huh?? └ Probably referring to the victory... — I hope Cookie’s illness gets better — Enduring a terminal illness and leading the team this far... Cookie is amazing. And so is Best Yi Sun-Shin, who bore all the pressure and clinched the win. — So the team’s improvement wasn’t just because of Almond... └ It’s not a one-man game lol └ He had been shifting the team’s playstyle since last year └ Joseon used to be a heavy, Rome-style team. This agile version began just last year... — He really gave it everything, literally his life. [#7 Real-Time Trending Videos] It had already climbed into the top trending charts in just a few minutes. The premiere alone hit 700K views and would likely surpass a million views within the hour. It could end up being the highest-viewed video in the Fake National Team’s history. "Yo. We already hit 1.2 million subscribers." Sang-Hyeon came closer to check and widened his eyes. "Didn’t we hit a million just recently?" Almond’s YouTube channel had only broken one million subscribers during the tournament. It wasn’t a channel that had an unusually high subscriber-to-view ratio. "Yeah. We did it. Cheers." They both took hearty gulps of their beer in celebration. Ju-Hyeok’s voice grew louder. He was definitely getting tipsy. "Dude, the tournament really was something else. My dad showed up out of nowhere and shocked the hell out of me." Sang-Hyeon grew quieter the more he drank, whereas Ju-Hyeok became a chatterbox. They were total opposites, but that was why their drinking dynamic worked so well together. "Yeah. He just walked up and said, ‘Give me whatever is selling best.’ You know what it was?" They both burst out laughing. The thought of Ju-Hyeok’s dad, almost sixty, wearing an Almond suit was hilarious. Ju-Hyeok’s face started to flush. Sang-Hyeon could tell what was coming. He knew the pattern and called it “Kim Ju-Hyeok’s Drunken Fist: 3 Stages.” Stage 1 was complaining about his dad, which was probably missing this time because of his dad’s recent visit. Ju-Hyeok didn’t complain. For him, his father wasn’t someone to curse, but just a towering figure in his life. Sang-Hyeon wasn’t surprised. It felt moment had been coming. What surprised him was that the second stage didn’t follow either. Stage 2 was always ranting about Ah-Sung Electronics. At this stage, Ju-Hyeok would turn bright red and raise his voice, raging about his old company. Tonight, there was none of that. The empty beer cans were stacking up with no mention of Ah-Sung. Read complete version only at n0velfire.net "... So those were just products made specifically for the tournament, right? But the Almond cap, people would buy that even if we sold it long-term. We could honestly start a fashion brand." Ju-Hyeok had skipped straight to the precursor of the third stage. Stage 3 was calling himself a genius. At this point, most of his drunken fantasies would revolve around Almond-branded ventures. "What? A fashion brand? I don’t even know how to dress myself." Sang-Hyeon waved it off, but Ju-Hyeok held up his phone. "Dude, look at this. Do you know how many fashion collab emails I’ve gotten? That means you’re a walking model." "Being a model and starting a brand are totally different, though..." "Clothing is all about branding. We’re already halfway there. Just gotta find someone to make the clothes. They’ll line up." "Hmm... Is it really like that?" "Yeah. That’s all it takes..." It felt somewhat strange. Sang-Hyeon had expected Ah-Sung to come up eventually. "Honestly, the best-selling item wasn’t even the Almond cap. It was the Almond ballcap..." Ju-Hyeok always managed to sneak in a rant about Ah-Sung. He had regrets and grudges about that place. ‘He’s only talking about merch now.’ Sang-Hyeon suddenly checked the date on his phone. ‘It’s been half a year.’ Six months had passed since they walked out of the company. In that time, Ju-Hyeok had transformed from an Ah-Sung elite to the CEO of Mixed Nuts. "Oh right, about the platform stuff. Paprika wants to meet tomorrow. What do you think?" "Ah, uh... I actually have something tomorrow." "I’m meeting Pang and the others." Ju-Hyeok nodded and asked curiously, "Come to think of it, we never had a proper team dinner for the tournament." "I mean... there were two hundred people..." "What if we gathered them all?" At first, Sang-Hyeon thought Ju-Hyeok was just drunk-talking. "Is that even possible?" Ever since Almond was banned from gaming for a month— "If we turn it into content, it’s doable." Ju-Hyeok had become a content-chasing hunter. "It’s totally doable. Sooo doable..." By now, he was reaching his drinking limit. Ju-Hyeok suddenly shot up from the couch. He glanced at the wall clock. It was ten in the morning. Not too late considering he didn’t have work, but he still scrambled for his phone. [153 unread messages] The number of notifications would terrify anyone else. He scrolled once and moved on. ‘That’s not what’s important.’ The flood of messages had become routine since the tournament. That wasn’t why he jolted awake. ‘The news updates at 7.’ Messages from companies? Advertising offers? Platform deals? They all stemmed from Almond’s fame, but the Fake National Team episode had just been uploaded last night as public interest in the tournament began to cool. ‘If this takes off, everything will come flooding in again.’ Still pulling up his pants, Ju-Hyeok sat at his computer. He opened every major news portal at once. His mouse froze for a second. Then— Ju-Hyeok’s lips curled up into a grin. [Top Trending News Stories] "Live the Process" — Fighting Terminal Illness, He Leads Joseon to Victory International Tournament Documentary Reignites Public Interest Actor A: "This is my miracle cure" — turned out to be a drug smuggler Telecom Giants: "Not paying bandwidth fees makes you a criminal company" Millions Weep as Cookie’s Story is Revealed