Chapter 9: A LOL-playing Man? Or a LOL-playing Woman(1).
I opened my eyes.
Staring blankly at the familiar ceiling pattern for a few minutes, I instinctively fumbled around the bed.
The sacred morning ritual after waking: finding my smartphone.
I grabbed the sneaky device hiding between the thick blankets and unlocked it reflexively.
When I first came to in the hospital and grasped my situation, one worry nagged at me the most.
With my appearance completely changed, how do I prove I’m Park Minseo?
Would I be mistaken for an illegal resident and deported?
While lying in the hospital bed, mulling over this, I grabbed my phone to search for answers—and noticed something.
My fingerprints are the same.
Online sources explained that for my condition, identity is verified through fingerprints.
South Korea, with its database of citizens’ fingerprints, makes this feasible.
Overseas, it’s apparently a tedious process that can take weeks or even years.
But how can my fingerprints stay the same when my hands are smaller now?
The question crossed my mind, but I decided not to dwell on it.
That’s not for an average person like me to figure out.
Doctors or scientists are probably researching it. Yeah, let them handle it.
Holding my phone, lost in these pointless thoughts, I slowly woke up.
Checking the top-right corner, it was 8 a.m.—a few hours earlier than my usual wake-up.
“…Guess I was really exhausted.”
Yesterday, including the lingerie store, I was stuck at the department store for nearly five hours.
I begged and complained, but my sociopathic sister didn’t listen to a word.
For an introvert like me, such a long outing was brutal, and I passed out the moment we got home.
Why bring up MBTI?
Because it’s fun, that’s why.
It’s a regular topic on my stream, brought up at least once a day.
According to my unscientific survey, over half my viewers are INFP.
Good lord, if there’s a hell on earth, it’s my stream.
Anyway.
My phone was flooded with KakaoTalk messages.
Normally, 90% would be ads, but today was different.
“Hyun hyung.”
About 30 messages piled up.
After debating whether to read, reply, or ignore them, I decided to check.
I do have some sense of responsibility.
Since I manage Hyun hyung’s diet project, disappearing like this is probably a nuisance.
I can’t work out with him like before in this body, so I should at least apologize.
With that thought, I opened the messages.
[Yo, you not coming to the gym today?]
…
[Something up?]
…
[You didn’t get into an accident, did you? ㄷㄷ]
Most were like that.
Makes sense—he’d worry when I suddenly went silent.
The last message came this morning at dawn.
[You quitting streaming?]
I posted the notice two—no, three days ago.
Did it just reach him yesterday, or did he think it over before sending this?
Either way, I have one thing to do.
After drafting long and short versions, serious and casual, I settled on a message for Hyun hyung.
[Sorry. Personal circumstances came up, so I can’t help with workouts anymore. I’m also quitting streaming.]
Simple, but it covers everything.
No lies either.
This should do. We weren’t that close anyway.
I pressed send and got out of bed.
Hyun hyung streams until dawn, so he’ll probably see it hours from now.
I could just block everyone and disappear, but… that’s not me.
This damn INFP personality never helps.
*
After a quick meal, I returned to my room.
I need to assess my situation coldly, figure things out, and plan my next steps.
The biggest issue is getting kicked out of this house.
My sister didn’t set a deadline, but I need to leave “as soon as possible.”
Where do I move? Jeonse? Monthly rent? How do I pay for it? How much is this month’s streaming payout? What job do I get? First, I need to visit the district office for identity verification. But which department handles that? The internet wasn’t clear. Anyway, assuming I sort that out, the next issue is money. Modeling? No way, I don’t even know how. Or how much it pays. Maybe a simple part-time job like a convenience store? A cute girl like me could get hired easily, right? But that’s just minimum wage. Should I go underground? Nope, that’s a no-go. Just imagining flirting or getting physical with a guy makes me want to puke. So what do I do? I’m useless. How can someone be this incompetent?
The deeper I thought, the hotter my head got.
In the hospital, I dreamed of a rosy future, but now that I’m seriously thinking, it’s bleak.
“…Pathetic.”
I can’t do anything.
I don’t even know what I can do.
The outer shell changed, but inside, I’m still the same INFP male Park Minseo.
Realizing that made it even more depressing.
This isn’t good.
Once I fall into a depressive spiral, it’s hard to climb out.
I need to do something, anything, to snap out of it.
Something… anything…
At that moment—
[Take my hand, Minseo.]
A demon whispered in my head.
Disease. Apocalypse. Filth. The worst trash that harms body and mind.
The radioactive substance that turned guys into the ultimate evil.
The game that drove me insane.
League of Legends.
I hate this game.
I despise it deeply.
If League shut down one day, I’d cheer with all my might.
But that’s not happening.
While male Park Minseo became female Park Minseo, League kept running, trapping countless League bros in its hell.
And I’m one of them.
Or, I guess, a League girl now.
I entered my soundproof booth and sat blankly at my computer.
The League client, eating up half my life for over a decade, stared back from the monitor.
Looking at it, I felt a strange sense of humor.
Human Park Minseo.
A League-obsessed fool who boots up the game when their head gets messy.
[Come on, queue up, Minseo.]
The demon of League, Joseph, spoke in my head.
If I were streaming, I’d be screaming, “Get out of my head!” and starting a pathetic musical.
But there’s no need for that now.
Joseph is me, after all.
I just want to clear my head in the Rift.
Three minutes after hitting [Find Game]—
“…Is League dead?”
Not even a Challenger queue, and it’s taking over three minutes.
The player base—specifically solo queue players—has shrunk.
They say ARAM players have surpassed solo queue players.
Two more minutes later, the queue popped.
Position: Top. Team: Red.
I tried swapping with the fifth-pick ADC, but they instantly declined.
“This bastard?”
The ADC wants fifth pick?
Anger surged, but I didn’t type anything.
I, Park Minseo, was once a Challenger.
I’m only climbing back up after deleting my account.
I shouldn’t even be matched with these locals.
No need to engage.
For top, Renekton’s the safest first pick.
The reworked Skarner’s the GOAT, but the blue team banned it.
After picking, I grabbed a coffee from the kitchen.
Loading finished quickly, and everyone was at the fountain.
Years ago, loading took minutes; now it’s 30 seconds max.
The world’s gotten better, I thought, as I dashed to the bush by the enemy’s red buff.
[First Blood!]
While sipping my coffee in the bush, the sound rang out.
The enemy Blitzcrank’s invade caught our ADC.
I knew it from the pick phase—
Then a ‘?’ ping appeared over my head.
[Ashe signals that an enemy is missing.]
[Ashe signals that an enemy is missing.]
[Ashe signals that an enemy is missing.]
[Ashe signals that an enemy is missing.]
The ‘?’ ping, aka the hook ping.
Originally for signaling missing enemies, in solo queue it now means, “What are you doing?”
In short, Ashe is picking a fight with me.
“Ugh.”
Blitz picked, so an invade was obvious. At level 1, we lose a 5v5.
You ward the blue side and back off.
But this guy stood there, got hooked, died without flashing, and now blames me?
When the enemy top got the kill?
“Stupid League bro.”
I hit Tab, opened the scoreboard, and muted Ashe.
Since they invaded, the enemy blue side should be empty.
I placed a ward there and headed to top lane.
Minions arrived right on time.
The enemy Jayce got first blood, but whatever.
I’m not streaming, so I can focus purely on the game.
[Now, shall we kill them all, Minseo?]
Joseph speaks again.
Of course, that’s the plan, Joseph.
Let’s stomp a few games to cool off.
I can worry later.
Two weeks later, I turned on the stream I’d sworn to quit.
[One more win for Challenger, no mic, hard focus.]
…
…
…
What!