He Is That Guy

Caught off guard, I didn’t answer right away. Yu Chae filled in the gap.
“You probably know it… an overseas FPS people call ‘Team Black.’”
I pulled myself together and tried to sound casual.
“I know it. Never played, but I’ve heard of it.”
As far as I knew, Team Black was an open-world FPS split into Side A and Side B, where you kill each other and loot items. With its hardcore difficulty and realistic graphics, lots of Korean players were into it.
“I played it for a bit… and ran into the handle ‘Jeo Jolryeoyo’ there. He was toxic—voice comms full of swearing, constant family insults, nonstop teabagging¹.”
“Huh…”
“I started targeting only that guy and killed him a few times, and from the next match he turned on cheats or something—kept landing first-shot headshots². FPS games are swarming with hackers, so I just shrugged it off.”
“You thought that asshole was me?”
“I picked a fight with you on purpose to see if you were the same person.”
A headache throbbed behind my eyes at the story I never saw coming. So while I was doubting whether Yu Chae and Chae Yu-jeong were the same person, he was doubting whether I was the same guy as some other player?
“But once we actually fought, your skill was too good. I thought I’d beat you easily. Honestly, if we’re being strict, I basically lost. I was higher level with better gear and still barely scraped out a win.”
I pressed my fingers into my temple as I listened, frowning at the long string of compliments. Why was he more excited than me about my own skill?
“That’s it? You dropped the suspicion just because of in-game skill?”
“Your skill and your character. And a few days later, we ran a raid and talked on Discord. With skill, personality, and even your voice all different, how could I keep suspecting you?”
“What about how you flipped your tone the moment you heard I was Grandmaster in Hiore?”
“That was… I figured if you were Grandmaster in Hiore, you wouldn’t have time to grind another game. The ‘Jeo Jolryeoyo’ I met in Team Black had over two thousand hours when I checked his record. One person playing both games that much is basically impossible.”
“……”
So he’d met someone with my exact handle in another game—and that guy happened to be toxic. No wonder he checked whether a toxic player had joined the guild.
And yet, why wouldn’t this queasy feeling go away? Is that on me?
“Sorry for doubting you, hyung. I should’ve told you sooner, but I was scared you’d be disappointed in me.”
His quiet explanation came through my headset. I let out a breath he couldn’t hear and lifted my head.
“It’s fine. I’m a little thrown, but it’s not incomprehensible.”
“Things got weird at first because I messed up… but hanging out with you, I came to like you as a person. Everything I’ve done toward you was sincere.”
“…You say that kind of thing so easily. Aren’t you embarrassed?”
“It’s you, hyung. Why would I be?”
“Anyway, I get it. Sorry for blindsiding you with old stuff.”
“No, really—since you asked first, it was easier to answer honestly. And, um…”
He hesitated, then spoke again.
“I don’t think I’ll have time to play anymore.”
“What?”
“Something came up starting next week. I’m going to be really busy, so it’ll be hard to play—or even keep in touch.”

My mind knotted up in an instant, and I was also just… speechless.
Suddenly something came up so you can’t play? Just like that? When you literally spent today in Xenorise all day?
“Still, I’m glad we cleared up the misunderstanding before I stop.”
“Hold on—are you saying you’re quitting? Xenorise?”
“If I have free time I’ll log in, but that won’t be easy. I already told Water. I’ll probably hand over the guildmaster spot to her tomorrow.”
“……”
So it was all already arranged.
When someone’s already prepared to quit, what the hell are you supposed to say? Ridiculous as it was, I even felt a twinge of betrayal.
‘Feeling betrayed because someone’s quitting a game due to work…’
I’d die of embarrassment if I said that out loud. The headache was worse now.
I swallowed the surge of feeling and, after a long moment, gave the safest answer that was still honest.
“…That’s a shame.”
“Same here. I won’t be able to log in, but I’ll ping you now and then.”
Oblivious to my mood, he laughed brightly and sounded relieved as he said goodbye.
“Take care, hyung.”
Late November. The colder it got, the faster the workload piled up.
It was already well past 9 p.m. With the night pressed black against the windows, someone tapped my shoulder while I hunched over my project.
“Yu ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ Ji-han, take a break.”
Kim Daeseok jerked his chin toward the hall. Eun Haeseong was with him.
We grabbed drinks from the vending machine and moved to the smoking area. Cracking his can, Kim asked while I fished out a cigarette:
“You good?”
“With what.”
“You’ve looked off the last few days.”
Eun, lighting up too, nodded, eyes bright.
“Yeah. Every time I see you, your face is all scrunched. If you’re going to waste that face, hand it over.”
“The kids who always waved and said hi when they saw you are just watching you now. Relax your face a little.”
I let out a short laugh and massaged the bridge of my nose. Fair enough—I’d been scowling a lot.
“Been getting headaches.”
“Overdoing it?”
“The projects are a fucking lot. At this rate I’m going to be buried on campus.”
I couldn’t agree with Eun’s grumbling. The headaches weren’t from coursework.
The day after we talked, Yu Chae handed the master role to Water and stopped logging in. Haereun took over as vice-master.
‘Said he’d be busy starting next week, huh.’
He didn’t log in Sunday either, after saying goodbye and quitting Saturday. I stayed on all day waiting for him to appear.
Same with messages. He used to spam me several times a day with trivial crap and whine about me leaving him on read; from Saturday on, nothing.
A few times I thought about reaching out first, but every time, the memory of his voice—telling me to take care without regrets—kept me from doing it.
And so I let him go without ever properly asking about “Chae Yu-jeong.”
“Fuck…”
I blew out smoke and, for the fourth day in a row, cursed silently.
I didn’t even know why I felt this bad. It wasn’t just the frustration of leaving the question between “Yu Chae” and “Chae Yu-jeong” unresolved—that wasn’t what was driving me crazy.
“You don’t look great. Maybe rest a bit. From what I saw, you’ve already knocked out a decent chunk. Pace yourself.”
Downing his drink in two gulps like it fit his build, Kim chucked the empty can into the bin and gave me a worried look.
Do I look that rough? I smoothed the corner of my mouth without thinking.
“I just had a lot on my mind. I’m fine now.”
Yeah. Thinking about Yu Chae any more than this would be overkill. Why dwell on someone who’s moved on to his own thing?
“I’m going to make a call.”
Eun ground out his cigarette, pulled out his phone, and stepped out of the smoking area. Watching him walk off, Kim edged closer and lowered his voice.
“Hey, hey. Is this about that thing?”
“What thing.”
“You know, what you said before. Asking if Twilight’s guildmaster and Sensory were the same guy. Are they actually the same? Is that why you’re like this?”
“……”
My hand with the cigarette twitched. One after another, I heard them: Chae Yu-jeong asking me to give him time; Yu Chae telling me to take care.
“No… they don’t have much to do with each other. I was the one who got it wrong.”
“Right? Of course. No way that’s realistic.”
Kim was right. It had all been in my head.
Before, I would’ve suspected that “something came up” meant going back to pro play.
But now I know it’s not that. I’ve got clear proof, and I don’t have the energy to be stubborn past that.
“Whatever it is, I hope it works out. Let’s head back. Eun’ll catch up.”
Yawning like an old man, Kim stretched. I followed him inside, pulled out my phone, and checked my notifications.
[Chae Yu-jeong: Hyung, are you at school again today?]
[Chae Yu-jeong: Did you have dinner?]
[Chae Yu-jeong: Not asking to eat together—I’m just worried! T_T]
[Chae Yu-jeong: (sticker)]
[Chae Yu-jeong: Are you super busy tomorrow too..?]
Among the group pings and random check-ins, his messages stood out.
Hand hovering over the screen, I hesitated for a long time—then slid the phone back into my coat pocket without replying.
 
Notes
[1] Teabagging: In games, insulting behavior after killing an opponent—e.g., repeated attack motions or crouching repeatedly over a corpse.
[2] First-shot headshot: In an FPS, the very first bullet fired hits the opponent’s head.