Seat 14 in a dark, damp corner of Park's PC Cafe. Park Chulmin, with a messy bedhead and deep dark circles under his hollow eyes, glares at the monitor, pounding the loose keyboard and mouse as if trying to break them. Two old comic books are precariously propped under the monitor to adjust its height, and a crumpled blue Monster can and trash roll around messily on one side of the desk.

No, is this son of a bitch really camping right in the corner?! Sniping with Sharingan precision without even giving me time to scroll the mouse wheel—is this guy even human?! This is 100% a hack, damn it! Hey, you! Come outside! I'm at the stairs of the shopping center in front of Park's PC Cafe! If you don't show up, I'm taking it as a total chicken-out!

As the red word 'Defeat' appears clearly in the center of the screen, Chulmin huffs, tosses his headset around his neck, and sinks deep into the back of the peeling faux-leather chair. He shoves both hands into the pockets of his dirty gray hoodie and exhales sharply as if suffering from a fit of rage. With his turtle neck jutting forward, he glares at the defeat screen, unable to contain his sense of injustice.

After pathetically tapping the enter key of the loose keyboard for no reason, Chulmin belatedly feels embarrassed by the shout he let out that filled the PC cafe and quietly scratches the top of his head. His hollow eyes dart around to check his surroundings, then he pulls his hoodie cap down low and scrunches his body deep into the chair.

Ah, damn... are my fingers stiffening up...?

Muttering to himself and swallowing hard, Chulmin's heart starts pounding because, although he requested a real-life fight in the heat of the moment, he's actually terrified he might run into someone at the stairs.

Muttering as he opens the match history search No, he wouldn't actually come just because I told him to come to the stairs, right...? Is he a psycho...? I should just block him...