Hui-Chul first found out about the illness around three years ago. "It’s early-stage pancreatic cancer. It’s progressed a little because this type of cancer is notoriously hard to detect early." He had undergone a routine check-up without any particular reason and received a thunderbolt from the diagnosis. At first, he didn’t even understand what it was. He hadn’t shown any symptoms. He thought it was just another type of cancer like thyroid cancer. Something that could be removed surgically, and he would recover quickly. "What kind of surgery is needed? I have an important tournament..." Hui-Chul urgently asked the doctor, but couldn’t finish his sentence. "The survival rate for pancreatic cancer is less than ten percent." "I’m obligated to inform you. If I don’t explain things clearly, patients often don’t grasp the seriousness of the situation." The doctor tried to follow up with some hopeful information, but a survival rate of less than ten percent already sounded like a death sentence. "However, survival rates are steadily improving these days. The fact that we detected what’s often called the silent killer this early is significant..." Hui-Chul didn’t really hear the rest. He returned several times and eventually told his partner about the diagnosis so they could go together. Only during the third visit could Hui-Chul say something. "Here’s what I hear. Chemotherapy... is just another way of dying slowly." The doctor couldn’t answer easily because what Hui-Chul said wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t make the recommendation unconditionally because chemotherapy was a massive battle. Either the cancer would die, or Hui-Chul would. Those were the only two outcomes. Until one gave in, the patient would spend the rest of their days in a hospital bed. This process demanded everything from the patient for a slim chance of survival. Hui-Chul made his decision. "I don’t think I can do it. There’s somewhere else I’d rather devote my life to." He chose to live for the process, not the result. Hui-Chul’s story became a hot topic in online communities. So many people had watched the final episode of the Fake National Team series. [What was that final episode? Seriously] [Cookie really risked his life for the game] [Cookie’s first appearance as a genius.jpg] [The way he restructured Joseon’s build into a totally new playstyle starting last year was insane] [The legacy Cookie left behind!!!] Some people even dug up old videos featuring Cookie. One video showed a senior player talking about Cookie. It went viral on Community Garden. [#1 Top Post: The first ever Korean nationals commander once said, "Cookie will save this game." — People had really high expectations for him even back then └ That would be like someone saying today, "Kimchi Warrior will save Joseon" lol └ lmaooo the name tho └ Back then, he debuted as a vice commander and dominated] Mentions of Cookie and the Fake National Team didn’t stop there. Even the evening national news covered it. "The latest hot topic is the national esports tournament. The team for the Civil Empire game achieved a miraculous result. The story of their team leader Cookie, real name Gook Hui-Chul, was recently revealed..." Given all this, people naturally started asking questions. [Is there no chance for Cookie to recover?] [He made it sound hopeless... but isn’t there a chance if it was caught early?!] [We just don’t know what his condition is...] Even young fans started asking questions on the Q&A forums like Ask Jeeves. [Help me, Jeeves! My favorite pro gamer has pancreatic cancer. Is it really incurable?] [What kind of disease does Cookie from the national tournament have? Is there no cure?] [Please help, Jeeves! Is pancreatic cancer a terminal illness? I’ll give 100 points!] Doctors who frequently answered questions on these forums responded. One such reply read: [Hi, I’m Spine Guy, a God-tier responder on Jeeves. I’m a general surgeon. If detected early and treated, pancreatic cancer isn’t impossible to cure. However, it is the deadliest cancer in terms of survival rate, and the one patients most often choose not to treat. Chemotherapy is a battle against yourself that is more painful than any hardship. Also, pancreatic cancer often doesn’t disrupt normal life for a while, so many choose to spend their remaining days peacefully. The sad part is, they often make that choice without knowing how much modern medicine has improved. No matter how much doctors explain, patients can’t help but fear that chemo means simply suffering until death. Of course, we as doctors also can’t recommend treatment too aggressively. After all, for them to truly recover...] "... a miracle is necessary." Hui-Chul told Sang-Hyeon in response to the question. "The doctor told me my survival rate is below five percent if I start treatment now." Silence fell over the rooftop under the night sky. Only the crackling fire and chirping insects could be heard. "W-Wait," Chi-Seung cut in. "Treatment? You decided to get treatment?" Hui-Chul smiled and nodded. "Yeah." Everyone looked stunned. "It’ll be a long fight." At that, Ba-Reum lowered her head and burst into tears. "Five percent... That’s too cruel..." Hui-Chul gently patted her shoulder before continuing, "Ba-Reum. Do you know what our odds of winning were this year? Based on expert and AI predictions?" Their chances of winning before the qualifiers began? Ba-Reum shook her head. Even qualifying for the main tournament would have been a historic achievement for Joseon, yet they made it all the way to the top. "So 5% didn’t seem like much after that." "But... I thought you said you wanted to live for the process," Sang-Hyeon countered. Everyone understood what chemotherapy entailed. It was a process of giving up everything just to survive. "I’ll be fine," Hui-Chul replied without hesitation. Maybe it was because he had already made up his mind. "When I really thought about it... the idea that someone named Gook Hui-Chul would fight such a brutal war just to spend more time with the people he cares about... I liked that story." At those words, Water Dumpling began sobbing openly. "What’s with this mood?" Hui-Chul laughed as he tossed another log into the fire. "Anyway, I’m not starting treatment until I finish all the streaming schedules I’ve got with you guys. Don’t worry. Eat well tonight." Pang grabbed some meat and snarled for no reason. "Let’s eat! Let’s live!" It used to be, “Let’s eat and die,” but he changed it to “live.” Pang chewed on the meat and smiled. "Wow. This is amazing, right? Korean hanwoo beef hits different. Last time, I accidentally bought Australian beef or something. The whole galbi stew went to waste." "Foreign beef isn’t great for stews." Lee Wan-Yong, the chef, picked up the conversation. Soon, the topic shifted, and the others laughed and chatted again, including Sang-Hyeon. It wasn’t strange at all. Death was always nearby. That was why humans could forget about someone else’s death, or even their own, from time to time. That was how they could all keep living. ‘I should... do that too.’ Well, maybe not everyone could. After eating nonstop for three to four hours, they completely devoured even that massive feast. Only bones smoldering precariously over the coals remained. Sang-Hyeon leaned back in his chair, patting his full stomach. Sang-Hyeon’s cheeks were flushed, whether it was from the alcohol or the lingering winter chill still present in the early morning air. The bright moonlight shone down on his face as if pointing directly at him. He blankly counted the stars. Then, he snapped out of it and checked the time. The last bus would soon stop running. Sang-Hyeon slowly got up and began cleaning up. The others followed suit right away. With so many people, they finished cleaning up in a flash. Once they tidied everything up, Sang-Hyeon put on his shoes at the front door. "Oh right, this... I meant to give it to you earlier but forgot." He handed Chi-Seung, who came to see him off, the letter that Ji-Ah had given him. "It’s for Cookie. The Jang Production team made it." "Oh... I’ll pass it on. Are you really leaving?" Get full chapters from NoveI~Fire.net "What if you end up needing to take a taxi? Just crash here. Seriously." "Taxi? It’s fine. I’ve been taking them lately anyway." "Ah... still, you should stay. It’s the last time." That word stuck with him. He didn’t really want to take a taxi, but that phrase pricked him like a thorn. "Of course! Guys! Sang-Hyeon’s sleeping over!!" Chi-Seung shouted so everyone would hear, making it impossible for Sang-Hyeon to back out. "Yaaaaay! Let’s go all night!" "No girl is gonna go home now!" Laughter echoed across the rooftop. "But I’m gonna go for a quick walk to sober up." Sang-Hyeon wandered the streets for a bit. Yeah, too much had happened for him to just head home on the last bus. They’d been through too much together to wrap it up like that. He took out his phone. [Sang-Hyeon: Yo, I’m not coming home tonight. Crashing here.] [Ju-Hyeok: Damn, you’re hyped lol Is the vibe that good?] [Sang-Hyeon: Yeah, everyone’s loving it.] After the text conversation ended, Sang-Hyeon fiddled with his phone again. Just hearing that made him feel like he had to message someone, but he hesitated. He typed a few words, but deleted them over and over again. That person was still a bit hard to talk to. Eventually, he sent a message. [Why didn’t you come today?] A short sound rang out as he sent the message. Sang-Hyeon shoved the phone into his pocket, not even wanting to look at it. Voices from the rooftop called out to him. "Wooo! Sang-Hyeon! Malatang brought some Chinese liquor! Super expensive stuff!" "He said he sold out the country to buy it!" Sang-Hyeon ran back up to the party and cheered, "Wooooaaaah!" Sunlight pierced through her closed eyes. Sa-Rang sat up with messy bed hair. She stretched her arms wide. The housekeeper, hearing movement, came in pushing a wheelchair. Sa-Rang reached for the phone by her bedside. "It’s eight in the morning, Miss." The housekeeper unplugged the phone from the charger and handed it to her. She figured Sa-Rang wanted to check the time. Sa-Rang blinked drowsily as she looked at her phone. "You’re going out today, right?" Oddly, Sa-Rang didn’t answer right away. The housekeeper tilted her head at Sa-Rang, who was usually more direct. The girl’s eyes stayed fixed on her phone. After some tapping, she muttered under her breath, "How is anyone supposed to respond to a message like that at dawn..." "Ah, yeah. I’m going out today." "Alright then, miss. Please get in the chair. I’ll wash your hair." Sa-Rang slowly transferred herself to the wheelchair. As the housekeeper wheeled her toward the bathroom, she sent a message on her phone. [Song Ha-Na: Are we really trying it today?] [Song Ha-Na: It’s still in beta, so I’m not sure...] [Choi Sa-Rang: It doesn’t matter if we’re unsure. We have to try.] [Choi Sa-Rang: This is the first time anyone has even said it might work.] [Song Ha-Na: Alright. I’ll get everything ready in time.] Today, Sa-Rang planned on testing the closed beta of the still-in-development RPG, Legend’s Tale.