Morning sunlight spilled across **Jiwoo's** small Seoul apartment, glinting off her monitors still humming from last night's session. She popped a lollipop, headphones around her neck, replaying her mid-lane victory.
**Yuna**, sprawled across the couch, raised a brow. "So… the mysterious mid-laner everyone's whispering about. Any fan mail yet?"
Jiwoo smirked. "Not yet. I just play for fun."
Yuna tilted her head. "For fun? You dominate a club full of pro gamers. People are noticing."
Jiwoo waved her off. Attention wasn't her goal—she thrived on the game itself.
Then Jiwoo's phone buzzed. An official-looking email glowed on the screen.
"What's this?" she muttered.
Yuna peeked. "Top-tier eSports team… trial invitation?"
Jiwoo frowned. "Busan? I don't know anyone there. Could be spam."
"Or… someone noticed your skill," Yuna teased. "Classic Jiwoo—your reputation precedes you."
Jiwoo scrolled, skeptical but intrigued. She ignored it and returned to gaming, leaving a faint curiosity lingering.
---
In **Busan**, **Minho Kang** studied the footage again. The mysterious mid-laner was raw, instinctive, unpredictable—talent that could be molded.
"This player… impressive reflexes," said **Rishi**. "But not perfect."
The manager smiled. "Imperfections can be trained. Instincts like this are rare."
Minho's sharp eyes never left the screen. "If they can handle team synergy under pressure, we have a real player. Otherwise… they won't survive professional play."
Unknown to them, the mid-laner was a girl, not the anonymous player they assumed.
---
Back in Seoul, Jiwoo picked up her lollipop, smirking at Yuna. "Spam or not… maybe best left alone."
Yuna leaned back, smirk teasing. "Sure… but admit it, your skills are turning heads."
Jiwoo shrugged, focused on her game.
On the windowsill, the golden-eyed cat, **Liora**, blinked knowingly. Fate was already moving.
*End of Chapter 3*
Somewhere in Busan, Minho Kang plotted his next move, unaware that Jiwoo's hidden strength was far beyond what he imagined."