V2 Prologue:
Warm was the soft neon light that brightened the stage. A silky glow of gold, soft and smooth as the grace of moonlight, humble, just barely had enough brightness to light up the silhouettes of the people who sat on the stage in their special seats.
FY was the only who was standing on that stage, embraced by a strong and hard collar of white light around him. Amidst that golden moonlit stage, FY shone like the sun and yet, he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t the only sun. Across the other side of the stage, an empty seat lit like a sun standing next to an unidentified object wrapped in the black and gold of The Alliance’s flag. On that empty seat laid a large rectangular wooden frame revealing a princely person.
FY was used to the sight of that person inside that wooden frame. FY was used to seeing that princely smile and that wooden frame for over three years now, and yet his vision just seemed to boil up in hot steam. FY forcefully stopped his carefully crafted speech, removing his foggy glasses to wipe off the murky steam in his eyes. He wondered if this salty steam had something to do with the stage and the 31,000 pairs of eyes that zoomed on him.
Everyone is crying, why are you smiling? You just have to go against the flow until the end, don’t you?
FY put his glasses back and started walking away from his seat, trying to recompose himself. Even though his ears were a murky mess of incoherent noises that sounded like a mixture of his own heartbeats and sniffles, FY knew that most of the audiences were already crying and sniffling in their own seats by now, if not all. His ears were never as sharp as that smiling person was, so FY could never hear the sniffles and the tug of one’s heart from the audiences.
That person’s ears were stupidly sharp.
“Bro, your mother is in the audiences.”
FY remembered that painful elbow that dug into his ribcage when he has just won his first Championship.
“Where?” FY remembered trying desperately to scan the endless ocean of erupting fans, waving arms, flying flags and clapping hands.
“Somewhere in the right wing. Probably the sixth or seventh row. I heard her voice.”
“Where?” FY could not even hear his own voice because of all the shouting and screaming from every direction. The screaming of the broadcasting casts was like thunderclaps. However, screaming as loud as they might, even with the aids of their instrument and set, the broadcasters could not match the sheer volume of 31,000 screaming mouths and 31,000 pairs of clapping hands. FY remembered feeling the shaking of the entire stage when that happened, but at the time, he thought that his legs were giving in to his released tension. It was like a live rock concert but the instruments were erupting volcanoes. FY thought that he was being bullshitted at the time.
“Wave at her, common. What are you doing? Common.”
So, FY just repeatedly struck his fist at the crowds in that direction with all of his emotions. He kept staring at the crowds on the right wing that kept getting louder and louder until he finally saw a teary familiar face standing among the crowds, clapping her hands. Standing next to her was a middle age man whom FY would have never imagined to see again after he has disowned FY from the family. It was almost unbelievable that a man who was known and voted for opposing the rise of ROC would be there in that moment. FY could not believe in his eyes at the time, but yes, they were there, his parent was, standing among the crowds, clapping their hands. If Fearless did not elbow him at that moment to point out where his mother was among the crowds, FY would never know. Fearless’ ears were just stupidly sharp like that.
Suddenly, FY was snapped out of his nostalgia when he heard the sound of clapping hands from crowds. Just a quiet and unharmonious of clapping of hands at first, then it got louder as more people joined until eventually, the entire arena was drowned in the sound of clapping hands.
FY could not believe that there would be a day that he would choke on his words and unable to deliver a speech in front of a crowd. It was such a weird thing. He managed to give the eulogy perfectly on the very day when he was in the white of funeral cloth, representing as a member of Fearless’ family on that rainy day. Yet, now, three years have already passed, he choked when talking about Fearless and had to receive encouragement from the crowds to finish his speech.
Everyone has delivered their speech fluidly and FY was the last person, the best speaker of them all, and he was the one with troubles. FY adjusted the mouthpiece of his headset with his sweaty cold fingers and struck his fist at the crowds, acknowledging their encouragements.
This was what ROC was all about, raw emotions, just like any competitive sport. This was why ROC dominated all of its competitions, drama and raw emotions. ROC brought out these elements of the pro-gamers like no other game. Its competitive nature and its rollercoaster nature would bring out the best and worst of a person. The Pro-league of ROC did not sell the gameplays and the highlights like most people believed, this league sold raw emotions and drama to its followers.
The person who captured most of these two elements would capture the heart and soul of the fans and followers of ROC. That person would The Star among the stars. FY had been trying to preach this to the younger generations of pro-gamer for a while. He has been trying to tell this to everyone, but not every person he spoke to would believe him, or understand what he said.
Drama and raw emotions, for over two decades since ROC had a pro-league, nobody managed to capture these two elements like Fearless. Fearless played ROC as if he was tossing his own heart at the crowds, making them fighting to touch that raw beating heart. He had the knack to sell the drama like no other. And now, even after three years after he has all but gone, Fearless still sold the drama and made the audiences fighting for his heart.
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
A true cash cow until the end
The 31,000 seats of the Golden Era Arena were fully packed in this very day because of one man and that man was not even inside the arena or even among the living. That man has already gone for three years and yet, people still loved him. People still fought for his heart. Women still committed suicide in-group to be with him. People still cried because of him. The new generations of champions still lived under the crushing of Fearless’ shadow, being compared to Fearless in every single moment. Fearless did not just make people love him or hate him. He made people obsessed with him.
FY waited until the claps died out. He gazed into the rows of audiences who were watching him while holding their breath.
“In all honesty, Fearless terrifies me,” FY muttered into the mike. His voice quivered more than he has thought despite he has recited this part of the speech for over a dozen times. That was such a strange thing to say. This sentence alone made no sense to anyone. Everyone knew that the two of them were the closest of friends, brothers of different mothers. To say that FY was terrified of Fearless, that made no sense, especially when it came from FY’s mouth at this moment.
.FY paused again, for a little while to capture the audiences with his pause. “Fearless terrifies me like no other,” FY reconfirmed. This is such a Fearless’ thing to say.
FY paused shortly again before continuing, “When I chose to be a pro-gamer, I was at odds with my father. I made a gamble, choosing to follow my dream over my family. At the time, I was extremely terrified at the prospect that I would never be with my family again. But, I wanted to follow my dream so bad that I risked everything in that gamble. The time I played for Everlasting Dynasty had many up and down moments. I knew I had the skills and talent to advance to the next level, and yet, I never did. I kept failing. I was losing my gamble terribly and I kept losing. When Everlasting Dynasty disbanded, I lived my life in each and every waking moment, even in dreams, being terrified of losing even ultimate dream which I have sacrificed everything for.” FY gave a little pause again and firmly stated, “And yet, Fearless terrifies me like no other.”
FY paused again and disengaged his eye contact with audiences to turn at the person inside the wooden frame. “Even now, he terrifies me,” FY said as a smile crept into his lips. “Whenever he looks at me like this, this look, with his arrogant smile on his lips, I can hear his thought.”
“What’s next, FY?”
“Common, what’s next?”
“That cannot be all, right?”
“I have never been under such pressure in my entire life,” FY admitted while readjusting the thick frame of his glasses. “That pressure feels like it’s crushing me. It feels like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. Yet, I could never act it out like I was being crushed. I did not want to disappoint Fearless, so I kept on striving. However, the more I strove to meet his expectation, the bigger the pressure on my back became.
So, whenever I watched Fearless being crushed or defeated. I secretly felt relieved. In all honesty, it felt like a catharsis. It felt therapeutic. I felt like all the pressure on my shoulders disappeared. Then, I would attempt to talk to Fearless, to tell him that it’s all right to lose, it’s alright to feel bad after losing. He would always give me that look, and every time, I felt the pressure on my shoulders being renewed and doubled.
He is like a monster that keeps on coming and coming and coming and coming at you. Each and every time that you defeat him, he will come back stronger and better without fail. You can never make him quit.” FY chuckled, knowing that what he’s doing would make all the future stars and champions of the league forever living under the shadow of Fearless. Whenever they achieve something great, they would be compared to Fearless. Whenever they are lost and defeated, they would be compared to Fearless. They would feel the pressure of living with the Ghost of Fearless as long as they play ROC until someone better and greater than Fearless would appear to trade Fearless’ ghost with his own.
FY thought that it was such a mean-spirited thing to do, and yet, it feels like this is what Fearless would do if FY was dead and Fearless was alive instead.
“You don’t and you cannot possibly imagine just how much pressure that I had while I was playing with this guy, because I never showed. I made sure that I would not show that to anyone, especially him. It feels like a curse and a blessing at the same time. I was getting better and better by simply being with him but at the cost of having the pressure on my shoulders magnified at every moment.”
FY stopped his speech again, reluctantly prying his eyes from that familiar looking wooden frame. He reestablished eye contact with the audiences within that fleeting quietness.
“As soon as I have won our first title with these guys, I was secretly telling myself that I would retire. But then, Fearless gave me that look. So, I tell myself, Just one more year. And as you have already known, we lost in that year. Fearless appeared before me and gave me that look. So, I tell myself, Just one more year.”
FY spoke while grabbing his stomach, acting as if he felt the invisible pain. The audiences broke into giggles as FY has intended. He has built the tension and stretched it for so long and thin through his speech. Now he was approaching the end, it was only right that he relieved the audiences of the tension. He wanted Fearless to be remembered with giggles and laughter rather than tensions and pressures.
“We lost that year as well. So, as you might have already guessed it, he would come to see me and gave that look. So, I tell myself, Just one more year and I’m done. So, again, I played another year, and we won. Thank god, we won, I was telling myself that, otherwise, I would have to endure such pressure for another year.” The crowds were having a laughing fit as FY acted on the stage.
“And yes, Fearless appeared, giving me that look again. So, this time, because I have already expected that, I gave him, this look.” FY craned his neck and opened his eyes as large as possible, selling his act and the crowds laughed. “You already had two titles. What else do you want? What more do you want? Just like this, we stared at each other. But he kept giving me that look. So, again, I told myself, just one more year and that’s it, no more, no more. Guess what?” FY paused again, briefly, “I had seven titles now.” FY shrugged his arms and shoulders, and the crowds howled with laughter.
FY waited for the laughter to die out to continue his speech. “So, I think that if we should remember him. It’s only right that we remember him with that look.” FY waved his hand. Merleon, Fantasy, and Misery rose from their seats, accompanying FY as they stood in the four corners of the unidentified object that was wrapped under the flag of The Alliance. Together, they lifted the flag, revealing a life-size statue.
“I wish the newer generation of stars who one day would be inducted into the Hall of Fame, when they see Fearless standing in the hall and giving them that look, even as a statue, they would come out of retirement the year after, to play ROC again, to love ROC again, to win again,” FY said, ending his speech, watching the crowds standing up and giving an ovation.
Nobody has ever been inducted into the Hall with a statue and as a statue. Fearless, bro, you just have to be the odd one out until the end, don’t you?