The best.
The prodigy.
The future.
How many of you could have such titles?
For Taejong, it was something he had grown accustomed to since he joined the professional league.
Addicted to playing since middle school, he dedicated half of his life grinding the game "Rise of Legacy."
At the age of 16, he was one of the top players in the world.
At the age of 17, he was the youngest scouted player to join the professional league.
At the age of 18, he joined his first tournament.
Taejong thought that a golden road was ahead of him.
The plan was simple.
He would join the professional league, win his first championship title, earn the Rookie of the Year award, and receive an invitation to one of the biggest international competitions of the game.
However…
He didn't accomplish any of that.
With a flawless 7-0 run, everything was going smoothly at first. They were the favorites. They were unstoppable.
Everyone expected them to win.
Everyone expected him to win.
However, a hand injury happened midway through the tournament, just weeks before the playoffs.
A sharp, twisting pain surged through his wrist. He tried to ignore it, pushing himself harder, thinking it was just temporary.
But it wasn't.
The pain grew worse, flaring up every time he played. For a moment, painkillers became his lifeline.
However, in the most crucial match of the playoffs, his wrist gave out completely.
They lost. They were even the first team to be eliminated in the playoffs.
The prodigy's fall.
The future's failure.
A big joke.
Their loss was splashed across every headline.
Taejong locked himself in his room for days. He rewatched the match over and over, searching for something, anything he could have done differently.
Still, he was determined.
He tried to recover. He visited doctors, specialists, anyone who promised even the faintest hope of healing.
But the damage was done. His grip weakened. His reflexes dulled.
The doctors said he needed rest. Months of therapy. Maybe even longer.
However, Taejong couldn't wait that long.
The professional league moved fast. There was always someone younger, hungrier, and stronger. He watched as his teammates moved on.
The roster changed and his name was left out.
At the age of 19, he was considered the youngest retired player.
The game he had once dedicated his life to become nothing but a distant memory. A reminder that he was a failure.
He blamed himself. He carried endless regrets. Countless what-ifs.
He clearly had a bright future…
But what happened?
And so, one day, while he was crossing the street, a speeding car crashed into him.
The impact was brutal. His bone was crushed. His body was in pain and the cold pavement soaked in his blood.
Yet, in that fleeting moment before everything went dark, Taejong felt something he hadn't felt in years.
Relief.
It felt like mercy.
For once, he was happy.
And so, at the age of 21, he died.
Or did he?