Chapter 22: The Crimson Circuit
The training facility Kai had set up was state-of-the-art. It occupied an entire corner of the PC cafe, with better equipment than most professional teams used. There was a coach a man named Tomas who'd competed in Seoul twice waiting to meet them.
Tomas was grizzled, maybe mid-thirties, with the intense focus of someone who'd sacrificed everything for the game. He looked at Jaden like a coach examining a racehorse before a big race.
"You're fast," Tomas said after watching Jaden play for twenty minutes. "But you're reactive. You need to be predictive. You need to be three steps ahead of your opponent at all times."
April sat at a small desk in the corner, laptop open, notebook in front of her. She'd taken it upon herself to research the Crimson Circuit the tournament structure, the competitors, the prize pool.
The prize pool was $500,000. Top three got contracts. But the competition was fierce. There were players from Seoul, Shanghai, Bangkok, and LA. Professional-level players who'd dedicated their entire lives to this game.
"Okay," Jaden said to Kai, who was watching from a leather chair with a smile. "I'm in. But I have conditions."
"I'm listening," Kai said.
"First, I maintain my grades. This tournament doesn't interfere with school. Second, my parents don't find out until after the tournament is over. Third, April is my manager full stop. Anything that involves strategy, scheduling, or career decisions goes through her."
April looked up, surprised.
"Agreed," Kai said smoothly. "Anything else?"
"Yeah," Jaden said. "If I win, I want a contract that gives me actual agency. I don't want to be a puppet."
"Fair," Kai said. "You'll have creative control over your stream, your image, and your team composition. In exchange, you play in my tournaments and represent my organization."
It was a decent deal. Not perfect, but decent.
That night, April began her real work as manager. She downloaded VODs of potential competitors. She analyzed their strategies, their weak points, their tendencies. She created a spreadsheet of the tournament bracket and began gaming out potential matchups.
By 2 AM, she'd filled an entire notebook with observations.
"You don't have to do this," Jaden said, watching her work from the couch.
"Yes, I do," April replied. "Because if we're doing this, we're doing it right. Three weeks, Jaden. We have three weeks to turn you into a professional-level competitor while maintaining your school ranking and keeping this secret from your father."
"It's impossible," Jaden said.
"Probably," April agreed. "But we're going to do it anyway."
At school the next day, things began to shift.
Jaden's grades started slipping nothing dramatic, just small decreases. A 98.5% instead of 99%. A B+ instead of an A on a quiz. Small enough that most people wouldn't notice, but enough for someone like Marcus to catch.
And he did catch it.
Marcus called Jaden into the library study room they sometimes shared.
"Your grades are dropping," Marcus said, not bothering with preamble. "You, who haven't gotten below a 99% in two years. What's happening?"
"I'm just stressed about college applications," Jaden lied smoothly.
"Bullshit," Marcus said. "You're distracted. You're tired. And I have a photo of you at the PC cafe at 1 AM with your girlfriend. So either you want to tell me what's really going on, or I'm going to start asking questions."
Jaden felt something cold settle in his chest. "There's nothing to tell."
"Fine," Marcus said, standing up. "Then I guess we're both playing games now."
After Marcus left, Jaden texted April: We're running out of time. He knows something.
At the convenience store that night, Chloe showed up looking unusually serious.
"Okay, friend," she said, sitting on the counter with the casual authority of someone who'd grown up wealthy enough to not care about rules. "I'm done asking politely. Something is going on with you and Jaden. The PC cafe. The secret meetings. The way you look at each other like the world is ending. What is it?"
April considered lying. But Chloe had been her friend since the beginning the only rich kid who'd ever treated her like a human being.
"I can't tell you," April said finally. "Not because I don't trust you, but because the less you know, the safer you are."
Chloe studied her for a long moment. Then: "Okay. But whatever it is, you're not alone in it. And when this blows up and it will blow up I want you to remember that I'm here."
"It might blow up your social standing," April warned.
"Then I guess I'll find a new standing," Chloe said simply. "That's what real friends do."