After devouring the meal like a starving person, the meal was soon over.
A little ahead of me, I could hear a soft slicing sound.
Coach was peeling the skin off an apple with a knife.
Judging by the disposable plastic bags in front of him, he seemed to be cutting it into small, easy-to-eat pieces.
Unable to resist, I grabbed one of the cut pieces and popped it into my mouth.
Not long ago, I felt like my stomach couldnât hold anything more, but the thought of the sweet and sour taste of the apple was too tempting.
The juicy sweetness filled my mouth. Delicious. Is this what happiness feels like?
As a small smile crept onto my lips, Coach quietly asked,
âSo, howâve you been these days?â
âThe same. Earning money, going to the hospital. Just living.â
âIs your leg getting any better?â
âThey say at least itâs not getting worse.â
He was referring to my left foot.
Knowing how much money I was pouring into the hospital, he was understandably concerned.
I wonder how much Iâve spent on it so far.
I couldnât give an exact number, but it was certainly a considerable sum.
This rotting leg of mineâif I had just cut it off, I wouldnât be living on the floor of this one-room apartment.
But... I just couldnât let go of the hope.
If I cut it off, I felt like Iâd never be able to return to how I once was.
âI know you might think Iâm nagging, but youâve got to take care of your health. The body is all connected. If you keep at it... something good will happen eventually.â
Coachâs voice trailed off a little.
I understood now why he hesitated.
He was worried about giving me false hope.
Sports, after all, is a world as cold and harsh as it is filled with passion.
In competition, there is no middle ground. If youâre not the winner, youâre the loser.
And talentâwell, it can trample all over you without mercy.
Having been in that industry for so long, both as an athlete and an educator,
How many failures had Coach witnessed? How many times had hope turned into poison and devoured his students?
Hope, despite what people think, isnât always such a beautiful word.
Even so, Coach chose words of comfort for me.
I nodded, not at his words, but at his courage in offering them.
âIâll be heading to Japan for a trip soon. Iâll stop by a few hospitals there and ask around. Iâll let you know if I find anything.â
âThank you so much. I really appreciate it. Is this trip for a training camp?â
âYeah. Thereâs supposed to be a friendly competition, but itâs not that big of a deal.â
âWell, since youâre doing it, youâve got to win. Best of luck.â
âYeah. Iâll bring back a win.â
Even though I wasnât an athlete anymore, Coach was still my teacher.
I wanted to at least watch the match if I could.
If it wasnât being broadcast, maybe I could ask for a video.
A competition... that word still had a nice ring to it, even now.
But it would be hard for me to return to kendo.
Not just because of TS Syndrome.
In kendo, thereâs no such thing as weight classes.
Since it involves handling weapons, the difference in weight can be overcome, and Iâve faced plenty of opponents taller than me.
Iâve heard people say itâs designed with real-life scenarios in mind, but... Iâm not sure about that.
The real issue is my leg.
Even if my left leg heals, rehabilitation will take a long time.
And it would take even longer to get back into the condition required to compete as an athlete.
Right now, it feels like a distant, unrealistic goal.
âIsnât there something you can do? I heard youâre good at that game you play. Itâs some kind of fighting game, right? With your skills, you should be able to win something, shouldnât you?â
âWell, most official tournaments require in-person participation. Iâd also have to use the equipment they provide.â
âYeah, I know. But arenât there any smaller tournaments you could enter from home?â
âNothing thatâs really caught my attention yet...â
I didnât want to enter tournaments that were too small.
Winning one of those would be like trying to quench your thirst by drinking seawater.
I had been invited to a few streamer-run tournaments, but I turned them all down.
I felt like it would tarnish my reputation more than anything.
Is it even fair to call it âreputationâ?
Right now, I was thirsty for things like winning and being recognized as the best in the world.
It was the dream I hadnât achieved. The dream I could no longer achieve.
I suppose thatâs why I wanted to reclaim something I lost due to that sudden accident.
It didnât have to be kendo anymoreâI just wanted to be recognized for something.
Before the international competition, my determination had twisted and turned into something monstrous.
âA tournament notice did come up recently, but I havenât read it yet.â
âReally? Then you should check it out. Iâll take a look with you.â
I waved my hand dismissively, saying it probably wasnât anything, but I couldnât help feeling a strange sense of anticipation.
The title of the notice sent by my client caught my eye.
[Notice: Find the Strongest Adventurer! The 1st Infinity Arena!]
I scrolled through, absorbing the important details.
Unlimited participants. No entry requirements. No restrictions on gear.
The competition was divided into five tiers based on gear and level.
Participants would be matched randomly for 1v1 duels.
For the first round of qualifiers, you had to win at least three out of five matches to move on to the second round.
So, essentially, they were trying to find the strongest 1v1 player across all users in the game.
Since it was an event, the prize money wasnât anywhere near what youâd get from the pro scene.
But for me, the money wasnât the important part.@@novelbin@@
No matter how the tournament was structured, if I couldnât participate, it meant nothing to me.
And sure enough, at the bottom of the tournament announcement, it said that finalists would be invited to the finals, including airfare.
Tch. I shouldnât have even looked at itâit just soured my mood.
But with Coach here, I had to keep my expression in check.
âI wonât be able to participate. But thatâs fine. Someday, thereâll be a good opportunity.â
Thump. Thump. My heart pounded for no reason.
Calm down. This isnât the first time.
I clenched my right fist tightly, channeling all my strength into it.
That way, no tension would show on my face.
It helped relax my stiff, awkward expression just a little.
Fortunately, Coach was still looking at the monitor screen.
Just as I was about to close the event page, tired of looking at it, Coach pointed to something in the corner of the screen with his thick finger.
âHey, Da... Da-eun. Whatâs this?â
âWhich one?â
It seemed like my vision had gotten narrow.
Maybe because I hadnât slept in a while.
It wasnât because I was emotionally shaken, of course.
Coach was pointing to a notice that had just been posted an hour or two ago, labeled as the ânext post.â
And it had a title I couldnât ignore.
[Notice: Schedule Change for Infinity Arena]
Due to a recent volcanic eruption in Iceland, air travel across much of Europe has been suspended.
Experts predict that the ash clouds will continue to affect flights for an extended period...
Some fear the possibility of additional eruptions...
As a result, even if air travel resumes, it will be difficult to hold the event in Reykjavik as planned.
I vaguely remembered reading about this when I was browsing the community at the convenience store.
It was just a fleeting mention.
A volcanic eruption, huh?
Unfortunate, yes, but I hadnât thought it had anything to do with me.
So, I hadnât paid much attention to it.
You really never know what the future holds.
Just as misfortune had come to me without warning, it seemed that luck, too, could arrive without any sign.
I kept scrolling, almost in a trance.
Infinity Arena is an event open to players from all around the world.
We cannot let our lack of preparation prevent finalists from participating in the event.
Therefore, the Infinity Arena will be held online, on dedicated servers, and will be streamed live.
I reread the announcement several times, thinking I must have misunderstood it.
I scrolled back up and then back down, carefully reading every word with wide eyes.
I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasnât imagining things, and I even scoured the community, hoping to find news articles about it.
With a notice like this, there should be at least one or two reports on it.
I just hoped I was reading it right.
[The event will be held online! Infinity Inc. announces Arena schedule changes.]
[What impact will the changes in the Arena schedule have?]
[Weâve gathered the names of pro gamers participating in the Infinity Arena!]
They all said the same thing.
This time, I could participate.
Would I ever get another opportunity like this?
I didnât know. It didnât feel real, and my head was spinning.
I think Coach said something to me, but I wasnât sure if I answered properly.
The one thing I knew for sure was that my hand moved as if it had a mind of its own.
Back on the event page, I scrolled to the bottom.
I remembered the last time I had clicked the participation button, only to hit âCancelâ in anguish.
Funny how this time, the button looked exactly the same.
[Adventurer Gawol, your Arena rank is âBlack.â]
[Are you sure you want to participate? Yes/No]
With my heart racing, I clicked âYes.â
[Your application to participate in the Infinity Arena has been successfully submitted.]
[Good luck in your challenge.]