Chapter 4: Better to Switch to Valorant Than Go Pro
Walking down the stairs, Jake saw his mother's back.
She was bent over, mopping the floor. The house was spotless and organized, a stark contrast to the "bachelor pad" mess his own apartment would become in the future when he lived alone.
It feels like a lifetime ago.
That was the only thought in his head. Memories surged like a tide. In the original timeline, his mother would eventually pass away from an illness. It hadn't been serious at first, but she had hidden it from him, fearing she would become a burden to her son. It was a common, heartbreaking trait of her generation.
"Oh? You're up early today. Finally decided to be productive?" His mother heard his footsteps and turned around.
Jake wasn't great at expressing his feelings. Growing up in a single-parent home, he had long ago learned to wrap his thoughts in silence. Suppressing the bitterness in his chest, he forced a smile. "Early to bed, early to rise, right? Like you always say."
"Look at you, being so obedient. There's eggs and toast in the kitchen, go eat. Skipping breakfast will..." "...give me gallstones, I know, I know. I'm going."
Scientifically, there was no real proof that skipping breakfast caused gallstones, but as a devoted son, Jake wasn't about to argue. He darted into the kitchen. On his way back to his room, he took one last look at his mother.
In this life, I'm going to make something of myself.
"Yo, you're back! I just tweaked my settings; I'm definitely going to carry this next game, trust me! Hit the queue!" "Heh, I'll believe you're carrying when pigs start flying, Matt."
Sitting back in his chair, Matt's voice helped dissolve the heaviness in Jake's heart. He clicked the button to find another match.
The next evening.
"OH MY GOD! Rank A! I finally hit Rank A! I have to post this on Instagram right now... 'They talk about the grind, I just live it.' Okay! Posted! Woohoo!" Listening to the frantic celebration in his headset, Jake rolled his eyes. "You're losing it, bro. You didn't even include your ADR or rating in that screenshot, did you? You're posting for clout before even thanking your carry?"
"Oh, come on, do we really need to be formal? But seriously, Jake, you've been a beast these last two days. It's like you're a completely different person."
He was a different person—his future self. Jake smiled, looking at his profile. It proved the old saying: Below the top ranks, you can climb on aim alone. For the past 48 hours, he had been duo-queueing with Matt. He hadn't even bothered to re-learn smokes or flashes, relying entirely on his veteran reflexes and the Eye of Death. His match history was a sea of green: 17 wins in a row, with a terrifying average rating of 1.78. If he kept going, hitting Rank S or the Challenger leaderboards wouldn't be a problem.
However, he needed to slow down. First, New Year's Eve was the day after tomorrow. He needed to spend time with his mother and do the usual family visits. Second, his goal was to go pro, and being a pro required more than just clicking heads. He needed to master utility, map control, and find a specific role within a team.
"Matt, I've got something serious to tell you. Don't be depressed." "What? Did your PC blow up?" "Effective immediately, Matt has been moved to the bench. 'Life has dreams, and our paths must diverge.'" "WTF? What is that supposed to mean?" "It means I'm cutting you loose, man! From now on, I'm solo-queueing to the top. Get lost!"
Matt's wails immediately filled the chat. "I knew it! You hit the high ranks and you're ditching your brother! We're done! Friendship over!" "Look at your rating, Matt. Carrying you isn't just 'weighted training' anymore; it's unfair to our teammates. You don't want people flaming your whole family tree in the chat, do you?"
It was a well-known fact that high-rank CS players were obsessed with stats. If they saw a 'leech' dragging them down, the toxicity would be legendary. Matt glanced at his own rating: 0.78. It was a fraction of Jake's. He knew Jake was right. The pressure of playing at this rank was already making him miserable anyway.
"Alright, alright... I won't hold you back. 'Our paths diverge,' I guess. Но why the sudden rush to climb? This isn't like you." "Actually, this is exactly like me," Jake replied. "Matt... do you think I could go pro?"
Even through the screen, Matt could imagine Jake's smug face. "Sure. In your dreams." "I'm being serious." "So am I. Are you hallucinating because you've been smurfing for two days?" Matt's voice turned serious. "Jake, you're 21. If you had hit the top of the ladder at fifteen, maybe. But now? No organization is going to scout a 21-year-old rookie."
Matt continued his reality check. "And even if you did get into an academy team, then what? You know the scene. Our region hasn't made a Major in years. There's no money in it. If you're really that good, just become a streamer or do some boosting. Or honestly? Just switch to Valorant. There's more money and more opportunities there than in CS."
Matt was looking at the market realistically. In 2022, jobs were hard to find, and Jake's family wasn't wealthy. Going pro in a "dying" regional scene seemed like a waste of talent.
"Heh, who knows? Maybe I'm the next ZywOo," Jake joked. "...Yeah, you definitely have a fever. Even ZywOo couldn't carry a weak team alone. You think you're better than him?" "Hahaha, we'll see! You're only young once! I'm logging off. Carrying you is exhausting. Farewell, my anchor." "Get lost!"
Jake disconnected and leaned back, deep in thought. Theoretically, the scene wasn't that bad yet—it would get worse before it got better. But the lack of money was real. Tier-2 teams lived and died by the Major. If you made it to the Contenders stage, you got your own stickers. Sticker money could range from $100,000 to $300,000 per person. You could become a millionaire overnight.
Jake wasn't worried about the money. He could trade skins or use his knowledge of future match results if he got desperate. What he craved was the glory. Standing on that stage, feeling the roar of the crowd.
But Matt had a point. Even ZywOo, the "Chosen One," struggled when his team wasn't up to par. My first step into the pro world needs to be calculated, Jake realized.