The door creaked open.
Min stepped in first.
Behind him, light blue hair catching the dim fluorescent lights, Ha-Eun paused at the threshold like someone entering a foreign country.
The training house went quiet.
Six monitors hummed. Fans whirred. Keyboards ticked in uneven rhythm. The Warlocks turned in sync.
MC ORCA rolled his chair back slowly.
"…Who's that?"
Min didn't answer immediately. "She's with me."
That made it worse.
Sung-Woo leaned forward, elbows on knees. "Since when do you bring civilians here?"
Hye-Jin stood up from her station, arms crossed. "Yeah. Since when?"
Ha-Eun scanned the room.
Six glowing rectangles.
Tangled cables.
Energy drinks.
Strategy boards pinned to a wall.
The smell of heat and dust.
Her nose wrinkled, not in disgust.
More like evaluation.
"I don't like this room," she said flatly.
Everyone blinked.
Chan-Sik raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
She stepped fully inside anyway.
"It's loud," she continued. "Not sound loud. Head loud. Everything's humming. Feels like the walls are thinking."
Sung-Woo looked personally offended. "These are custom rigs."
"I'm sure they are," she replied evenly. "Still feels like being inside a microwave."
"Who are you with?" Chan-Sik asked.
His tone wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
Ha-Eun didn't flinch. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," he stepped forward slightly, eyes steady, "people don't just wander into places like this by accident."
"She didn't wander," Min cut in. "I brought her."
Chan-Sik didn't look at him. "That's not what I asked."
Ha-Eun studied him the way she had studied the room, not offended, not nervous. Just measuring.
"You think I'm with someone," she said calmly.
"I think," Chan-Sik replied, "you showed up at a bad time. And I don't believe in coincidences."
"She's just a girl," Min said, more firmly now.
Chan-Sik's jaw tightened. "There's no such thing as 'just' anything."
MC ORCA leaned back in his chair, squinting at Min.
"You sure she's not Red Pulse?"
The name shifted the air in the room.
Ha-Eun blinked once. "Red what?"
"Don't play dumb," Sung-Woo muttered.
She crossed her arms loosely. "You're giving me way too much credit. I don't even like computers."
"That's convenient," Hye-Jin said.
Ha-Eun looked around at the glowing monitors again. "You think I'd willingly live in a place like this if I had a secret tech agenda?"
No one answered.
She stepped closer to one of the setups and pointed at the mouse.
"What's this one do differently from the others?"
"It's a higher DPI optical sensor," Sung-Woo answered automatically.
She looked at him blankly.
"…Okay."
Then she turned back to Chan-Sik.
"If I was spying," she said evenly, "I'd at least know what I was looking at."
Silence.
MC ORCA tilted his head. "Ask her something."
Chan-Sik didn't break eye contact. "What race does Red Pulse main?"
She stared at him.
"In what? Real life?"
Sung-Woo snorted.
Chan-Sik finally looked away.
Min stepped slightly in front of her now, subtle, but intentional.
"She met me at the park," he said. "That's it."
Chan-Sik studied him instead.
"You trust her?"
Min hesitated.
Then nodded.
"…Yeah."
Ha-Eun glanced at him, surprised, not by the suspicion, but by the certainty in his voice.
MC ORCA exhaled slowly. "If she's Red Pulse, she's the worst undercover agent I've ever seen."
"I don't even know what that is," Ha-Eun muttered.
Chan-Sik held the silence a moment longer.
Then:
"Fine."
The word wasn't warm.
It was provisional.
"But if anything feels off," he added, eyes flicking back to her, "you won't get a second question."
Ha-Eun didn't shrink.
"Fair."
And somehow, that answer made Chan-Sik more uneasy than if she'd defended herself harder.
Min shook his head. "She doesn't even like computers."
"Suspicious," Sung-Woo muttered.
Hye-Jin walked closer to Ha-Eun, studying her. "What do you know about StarCraft?"
"Almost nothing."
"What's APM?"
"No idea."
"What's a build order?"
"Sounds like a restaurant mistake."
Sung-Woo tried another angle. "Name the three races."
"Races?"
"In the game."
"Oh." She glanced at Min. "He said something about… aliens? And humans?"
"That's it?" Sung-Woo asked.
"There are three," she said. "That's all I retained."
MC ORCA leaned back.
"Ask her something harder."
Hye-Jin smirked. "What's a control group?"
Ha-Eun shrugged. "Is this a cult?"
Silence.
Then Sung-Woo burst out laughing.
"…Okay," he admitted. "She's not a spy."
Chan-Sik had been quiet.
He watched her posture. Her breathing. The way her eyes moved across the room without landing on screens too long.
She wasn't pretending ignorance.
She genuinely didn't belong here.
And yet she wasn't intimidated either.
"Why are you here?" Chan-Sik asked calmly.
Ha-Eun answered without hesitation.
"Because he looks different when he plays."
All eyes shifted to Min.
Min shifted awkwardly. "I just wanted to show her."
"Show her what?" MC ORCA asked.
Min didn't respond.
Instead, he moved toward an empty chair beside Sung-Woo and Hye-Jin's stations.
"They're mid-game," he said. "Watch."
Sung-Woo was Terran.
Hye-Jin was Protoss.
Marines split against incoming Zealots.
A Reaver drop barely clipped a mineral line.
Stim timing hit.
Force fields snapped down.
Ha-Eun leaned slightly closer.
Her expression didn't change.
"I don't get it," she said honestly.
"That was clean," Sung-Woo protested.
"It looks stressful."
"It is."
"Why would you volunteer for that?"
Hye-Jin grinned. "Because winning feels good."
Ha-Eun tilted her head.
"I don't see the person."
"What?"
"I see units," she clarified. "Lights. Movement. But I don't see the person."
Sung-Woo frowned. "We're right here."
"No." She pointed lightly at the screen. "In there."
The game ended.
Hye-Jin took it.
She turned to Min. "Alright. Your turn. Show her what she's missing."
MC ORCA slid into the opposing seat.
"Friendly," he said.
Min cracked his knuckles.
The old membrane keyboard, Jae-Wan's keyboard, sat in place like an artifact on an altar.
Ha-Eun noticed immediately.
"That one's different," she said.
Min nodded once.
"It matters."
The match loaded.
Terran vs. Zerg.
MC ORCA smirked. "Let's see if you're distracted."
The game began.
And the room changed.
Min's posture settled.
His shoulders lowered.
His fingers moved, not frantic.
Precise.
Marines split against early Zerglings.
A bunker placement that shouldn't have fit, but did.
A delayed expansion bait.
A scan.
A perfectly timed drop in the main while pressure hit the natural.
Ha-Eun's eyes narrowed slightly.
There.
Now she saw it.
Not the units.
Not the explosions.
Him.
His breathing matched engagements.
His hands never hesitated.
Even when mutalisks dove into his mineral line, he didn't panic.
He adjusted.
Redirected.
Anticipated.
He wasn't reacting.
He was conducting.
Each click felt intentional.
Each movement is part of something larger.
MC ORCA muttered under his breath. "When did you start doing that?"
Min didn't answer.
Because he was smiling.
Not tense.
Not chasing something.
Playing.
The final engagement exploded across the map.
Marines fanned.
Medics tucked.
Siege tanks un-sieged at the last possible second to reposition.
GG.
Silence.
MC ORCA leaned back slowly.
"…Okay."
Sung-Woo exhaled. "That drop was illegal."
Hye-Jin just stared at Min.
Ha-Eun didn't clap.
Didn't cheer.
She just watched him.
"You're different," she said.
Min blinked. "What?"
"When I met you in the park," she continued, "your hands were sharp. Like you were trying to cut something."
He listened carefully.
"Now?" she gestured toward the monitor. "They're fluid. You're not fighting yourself."
Chan-Sik's eyes shifted.
Min leaned back in his chair.
He was still smiling.
Not the tight smile.
Not the forced one.
A real one.
"…I wasn't thinking," Min admitted.
"About?" MC ORCA asked.
"Anything."
Ha-Eun nodded once.
"You weren't shadow practicing," she said. "You were playing."
The word hung there.
Playing.
Chan-Sik folded his arms slowly.
That was it.
That was the difference.
Play the match like you mean it.
But play like you're with us.
Like it's still a game.
Like you're here to destroy — and enjoy it.
Min stood up from the station.
For a moment, he looked lighter.
Not healed.
But aligned.
Ha-Eun glanced around again at the room full of glowing machines.
"I still don't like this place," she said coolly.
Sung-Woo groaned. "Unbelievable."
"It's intense," she clarified. "Like standing inside someone else's brain."
She looked at Min.
"But when he plays, it's not noise."
A beat.
"It's music."
The Warlocks went quiet.
Even MC ORCA didn't joke.
Chan-Sik saw it clearly now.
Not revenge.
Not anger.
Not grief.
Joy.
That was the missing piece.
A sharp knock rattled the front door.
Everyone froze.
MC ORCA stood first.
Chan-Sik followed.
Another knock.
Not aggressive.
Official.
Chan-Sik opened the door slightly.
A courier stood outside holding a sealed envelope.
"For Min Jae-Min."
Min stepped forward.
The courier handed it over without a word and left.
The room felt heavier.
Min opened the envelope carefully.
Inside:
Venue confirmed.
Industrial District Warehouse 7.
Match begins tonight.
Silence.
Sung-Woo swallowed. "Tonight?"
Hye-Jin straightened.
MC ORCA cracked his neck.
Chan-Sik watched Min's face.
Waiting for tension.
Waiting for fear.
Min folded the letter once.
Then twice.
He looked at the old keyboard.
Then at his crew.
Then, briefly at Ha-Eun.
He smiled again.
Not wide.
But certain.
"Good," he said.
Chan-Sik nodded slowly.
Yeah.
That's it.
Play like you mean it.
Play like you're with us.
Have fun.
And destroy everything in front of you.
The monitors hummed.
The room buzzed.
Ha-Eun slid her hands into her jacket pockets.
"I still hate this room," she muttered.
But she didn't leave.