The next morning, after receiving the message, I dressed neatly and headed into downtown Seoul. Normally, I might have hesitated a bit more, but this meeting was something that needed to happen as soon as possible.
'I can't believe they got a job as a pro team manager.'
It was baffling to think that a viewer who had followed my broadcasts so faithfully had somehow managed to land a position at such a major company.
Moreover, this meeting was not just important business-wise—it was a one-on-one meeting between a fan and me. I swallowed nervously as I entered the cafe where we had agreed to meet.
The cafe was quiet, with a pleasant atmosphere. The few people inside all seemed calm and composed.
"I didn't know there were cafes like this in Seoul…"
I admired the place as I scanned the room for the person I was meeting. But there was no way to tell who Hallasan Cheonji was.
I turned on my phone and called the number we had exchanged yesterday. After a brief ring, someone answered.
―Hello?
"Oh, it's nothing."
I said that to Hallasan Cheonji and hung up. I had already spotted the person who answered when I called earlier. I walked straight toward him. The man looked at his phone, seemingly unaware of what was happening.
"Hallasan Cheonji?"
"Huh?"
When I called out the nickname, the man jumped in surprise.
"Hello, I'm streamer Pilgong."
"Ah, hello. Nice to meet you."
I introduced myself, and the man stood up and extended his hand. I politely shook it in return.
"Haha, if you'd told me you'd arrived, I would have come to the entrance."
"No, it's fine."
After this formal greeting, I sat across from Hallasan Cheonji.
"First, here's my business card."
He handed me a card with the GG logo, his name, and his position.
"Let me introduce myself again. I'm Kim Dongseok, manager of pro gaming team GG."
"I'm Yoo Dongmin, streaming under the nickname Pilgong on Quazijik."
After reintroducing ourselves, we immediately jumped into business. Ice-breaking chatter seemed unnecessary; both of us were too nervous for that.
'I can't believe I'm seeing him this close!'
'It's always nerve-wracking talking to a fan one-on-one.'
Because we were both tense, breaking the ice was too difficult. Kim Dongseok and I silently agreed to get straight to the point.
"As I mentioned in the email, we'd like you, Pilgong, to act as a temporary coach for our GG team."
When I first read that email, I intended to refuse immediately. I had only just moved to the capsule version of the game—how could I suddenly coach a team?
But after discussing it further, I understood why they wanted me as a coach.
"We'd like you to coach until the event match in two months."
An event match. At first glance, it seemed like a simple one-off game. But this match was different.
"If I understand correctly from the email, it's an event to celebrate the 3rd anniversary of Kill Ground's capsule release, reviving a mode that was popular in the PC version, right?"
Kill Ground had been popular even before the capsule release. But a mode had been removed when transitioning to the capsule version: Speed Survival. A mode that started and ended games quickly, popular among students and workers who only had a short break.
'I played a lot of Speed Survival myself.'
During streams, I often played Speed Mode in short bursts while chatting. I knew the mode inside and out.
"But isn't everyone on a pro team as good as me?"
It was a professional Kill Ground team. I couldn't imagine anyone being worse than me. But there was one thing I hadn't expected.
"Our players have never played Speed Mode before."
"Oh."
I immediately understood what he meant. The transition from PC to capsule had shaken up the pro teams. Some adapted, others retired.
The current GG team mostly consisted of younger pros. Five years had passed since PC gaming's prime; most of today's pros had been upper-grade elementary students back then.
So it made sense that they'd never played Speed Mode, even if they had experience with the PC version—it was unfamiliar to them.
"I see the reason, but why me? Surely someone else could play Speed Mode better than I can?"
I was confident in my skill, but could I really teach pros? That was my doubt. Hallasan Cheonji sighed.
"Our director wanted someone skilled at teaching. You used to make game education content, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did back then."
It had been a modestly successful series, but it ended as people stopped playing PC games.
"I remember once learning from you back then; do you remember?"
"Hmm… wait a moment."
I dug through my memory and recalled doing educational content during Arena of Legends.
"You seemed to have a talent for teaching."
"Is that really the reason you want me as a coach?"
"Yes."
It was a simple reason, but I couldn't help questioning whether it was really okay.
"Have you discussed this with the director or anyone else?"
"I have full authority on this matter, so you can consider my decision as representing the company and team."
Hearing that made my head spin a little. For a manager to have full authority, it couldn't be just trust—it required genuine confidence. A viewer of my broadcasts in such a position was astonishing, yet I also worried about potential abuse of power.
"You don't need to worry about abuse of authority."
"…!"
I looked surprised; Kim Dongseok chuckled.
"I'm Hallasan Cheonji, manager of GG. Haven't you been watching my broadcasts for years?"
Indeed, this was GG's manager—but also my manager, someone who had watched my streams carefully.
"Do you have any other questions?"
"Oh, I noticed the email didn't include compensation. Was that intentional?"
"What?! Compensation wasn't included?"
Kim Dongseok checked his phone and the email, turning pale. It seemed to be a simple oversight, not intentional.
'How did he earn their trust?'
Business emails always include compensation details. Even if the exact terms aren't clear, a note to discuss during the meeting is standard. Hallasan Cheonji's email had none.
"I-I'm sorry! I must have sent the email too quickly yesterday and forgot to attach the details!"
"That's fine. I just came thinking of meeting a fan."
Normally, I might have ignored such emails, but this was a known viewer, so I trusted them and came to the meeting.
"Again, my apologies. Here's the compensation we can offer."
Kim Dongseok showed me the contract. It clearly stated the payment: 3 million won plus the right to stream the coaching sessions.
'What?!'
Three million won just for temporary coaching, plus broadcast rights. The compensation was incredibly generous.
'And the broadcast rights are exactly what I need right now.'
As an up-and-coming streamer, I needed more exposure. Coaching broadcasts were a huge opportunity.
"Is this… a partner sponsor contract okay?"
"Yes, as long as you don't switch platforms suddenly, it's fine."
"Well, I have no plans to switch platforms right now…"
GG was sponsored by Quazijik, meaning I could only stream there.
"So, what will you decide?"
"…I'll think about it a little."
"Take your time. There's no rush."
Kim Dongseok sipped his coffee as we discussed. The terms were very favorable, with no hidden clauses.
'A fan alone wouldn't offer this much…'
He seemed to distinguish clearly between personal and professional. Why he offered so much was still unclear.
"How many coaching sessions will there be?"
"We're thinking eight in total, giving one lesson per session and assigning homework afterward."
Not a bad deal. Two months left until the event, roughly one session per week. Plus, I could stream the coaching and earn 3 million won plus extras.
"And the opposing team?"
"…The event match opponent is S1."
My eyes widened. S1, a top-tier team. GG had an edge in battle survival, but S1 was no pushover. Their parent company, ST, was GG's rival, making this not just a match but a corporate pride battle.
'This is bigger than I thought.'
The reason they recruited me was simple: to find someone who recently played Speed Mode and could teach the team.
"Ah, I understand now."
I made sense of it. While others may know Speed Mode, none had played it recently. I had both up-to-date experience and teaching ability—a perfect match for GG.
"So you want me to…"
"Yes. Would you coach us?"
I paused. I knew this choice could drastically affect the direction of my streaming career.
'Do I board this ship or not?'
Honestly, I had no real choice. I had almost quit broadcasting, but thanks to Himmae, I rose again. This was my chance to soar.
'Can I really do it…?'
It was daunting, but missing this opportunity would leave me with regret.
"I'll do it. I'll coach."
From there, things moved smoothly. The contract had almost no hidden clauses, so I signed it on the spot. That was how I officially became GG's temporary coach.
"Looking forward to working with you."
"The pleasure's mine."
We shook hands, left the cafe, and went our separate ways. On my way home, I muttered quietly:
"They set the table so well… I better eat well."