Korea Bound: Our Visit To The Esports Capital Of The World, Day 3

In the previous article, [redacted at request of the South Korean government] uncovered hints of a vast, global conspiracy, possibly involving cloning. In this article, he steadies his nerves, and does what needs to be done for the good of humanity. I am beset on all sides by Faker after Faker, throughout Korean streets and in Korean homes; in Korean gaming places and Korean places barren of gaming, if any exist. Now that I know what to look for, the signs are unmistakable—the square face, the strong chin, seductive lips, long lashes… all secreting a charm more powerful than any Ahri, any Rakan, any Taric. Faker, oh Faker: A temptress (temptor?) that haunts my every waking thought! Though my heart aches for the release of these sensuous desires, I am only able to relieve myself in private, under the careful supervision of Sung Won. Sadly, I am running low on erotic stimulation—while I have protected myself from online surveillance by entering incognito mode, I fear that even a glimpse of Fakers unearthly beauty would make me lose control. Thankfully, the grimacing visage of Sung Won is always close at hand, ready to disgust. As I stare into the repulsive eyelids of my doting caregiver, my thoughts once again turn to the sheer audacity of this conspiracy: Years, decades, perhaps even centuries of eugenics. Breeding out imperfection, honing the perfect esports machine, letting this flawless DNA dwell dormant in their population, before bursting into flowering life into what are known as “Pro Players,” born with skills impossible for mere mortals to achieve. No wonder the common people regard them as gods, here: they are the culmination of their culture, the end-all and be-all of the Korean people. Without esports, they would be nothing but a garbage country on a trash continent. With it, the world trembles before them. The world, the world—what will become of us, when this new generation rises to power? What will become of proud American teams, filled entirely with American players? Will the Koreans invade, taking slots by force, stifling the potential of the West, shaming them with their ability to click precisely, and really fast? Will it become so that every Western team holds at least one Korean, their nationality serving as their resume, bringing reverence wherever they tread? Will they subjugate us, as if we were mere bonobos before them? No. No, I cannot allow such a dark, purely hypothetical future to come to pass. With the death of national esports pride comes cultural death, inevitable as the tides. Was that not how Rome fell, when the Visigoths owned them at Counterstrike? Did the Japanese not chain together fifteen frame-perfect parrys to emerge victorious in the Evo wars, crushing American spirits and Chinese dreams? I’m almost certain both of those things happened. Tonight, the reckoning begins. [Editor’s Note: The last entry in this “journal” was pieced together from notes, first drafts, and wall scribblings found in the author’s hotel room. The author himself is currently in the custody of the South Korean government, having been found naked on top of Faker’s penthouse suite, clutching a loaded handgun and overdosing on horse tranquilizers. His appointed guide, Bill Sutherlands, reports that none of the individuals the author claimed “looked like Faker” looked anything like Faker, and that the author is, quote, “an unbelievably racist wackjob, and I’m never working for you fuckers again. Why are you writing this down?” In closing, we leave you with what the author intended to be the conclusion of the planned sixteen-part Korea Bound series, written before he even stepped off the plane.] All in all, we give South Korea an eight out of ten. It has a little something for everyone!