Zeno had made it clear—multiple times, in fact—that he didn’t want to be interviewed.
But unfortunately, when you lead a wildcard team to victory in front of two million live viewers and become an international meme icon in less than twenty-four hours, people kind of start insisting.
“Zeno, just two minutes,” the host begged, sprinting after him backstage. “We promise. Just a short segment. Please. The camera’s already rolling—oh! Hello! Welcome back, everyone!”
Zeno found himself on a small interview couch a second later with a camera crew already doing dramatic slow zooms on his face. His teammates were also with him, but he was at the very center.
“Team Lacta,” the interviewer said, beaming. “First off—congratulations! Two back-to-back wins, one of them historic. Zeno, you’re the man of the hour. Let’s ask the question everyone wants to know. What are you going to do now with this incredible gaming skill?”
Zeno didn’t even hesitate as he answered. “Continue acting.”
“Oh,” the interviewer chuckled, not expecting such a blunt answer.
– Zeno can’t help if he’s good at everything.
– Honestly, I’m kind of sad he lost. We can’t have milky kitty Zeno cosplay?
– I want to see more of his works, though!
“Right,” the host recovered. “So, next question! You played remarkably well. You carried team fights and rotated like a pro during the last two games. How did you manage to play so well with such a difficult champion pool?”
“I became addicted to playing it for a week,” Zeno replied. “Just like the normal person.”
“Addicted?”
“I played until my eyes watered and my spine felt like it was dying. If I lost, I queued again.”
The camera panned briefly to Jace, who sat nearby and tried to salvage the team’s image. “He means we practiced responsibly and efficiently as a team—”
“No,” Zeno interjected. “I mean, I forgot how the sun looked for a week. But don’t worry. I’m a man with great resolve, so that won’t happen again.”
“Alright then!” the interviewer wheezed, moving on. “Next up—who, in your opinion, was the best player in Team Lacta?”
Everyone leaned in slightly.
Zeno didn’t hesitate. “Jace.”
Jace turned to him with wide eyes.
“He’s played the most matches,” Zeno continued, looking at the host. “He’s got clean mechanics. And he actually knows what wards are. I think he could go pro.”
Jace turned a deep shade of pink and scratched the back of his neck. “I mean. Thanks, Zeno.”
“Don’t thank me,” Zeno replied. “It’s objective data.”
“And now, for one of the most exciting parts—what are you going to do with the prize money?” the host asked, her eyes gleaming. “There’s a pretty big number attached to it, after all.”
Sangwon opened his mouth, about to deliver a practiced answer about saving, donating to charity (not really), or at least splitting it evenly.
“Mimi is going to take it,” Zeno said before he could speak.
Everyone turned to him.
Mimi’s eyes widened. “Huh?”
She wasn’t expecting this. The amount would cover her mom’s hospitalization, at least.
“She deserves it,” Zeno said plainly. “She believed in our team the most. We won’t be here without her.”
Sangwon and Hyunbin turned to each other, blinking in unison. “Wait, we agreed to split it, didn’t we?” Hyunbin whispered.
The host looked like she didn’t know whether to cry or propose to him. “Okay! And lastly, what’s next for Zeno and Team Lacta? What’s the big plan moving forward?”
Zeno leaned toward the mic, looking mildly interested now. “Look forward to the Ninth Circle.”
There was a murmur from the crowd. Sangwon and Jace snapped their gazes to him, wondering why he was mentioning their upcoming drama that still had issues.
“Isn’t that production… uh, a little laden with problems right now?” the host asked, finding courage.
“Yes,” Zeno answered.
Then, he smiled faintly. “But I believe in it. So, look forward to it.”
Back at the press station, the reporters were going wild.
“Zeno is weirdly charming,” one of them muttered, typing furiously into her blog.
“He’s either a genius or an absolute lunatic,” said another.
“I need him as a guest on my podcast.”
A reporter posted a selfie:
– just met zeno irl. he said nothing and walked away, but I’ve never felt
more blessed
Fan forums were even worse.
– I can’t tell if I want to be Zeno or marry him
– Protect this man at all costs
– Zeno’s really charming, I can’t.
– He’s cocky. He’s not even a good actor.
– He’s literally in the Rookie Class.
– Everyone can get in the Rookie Class right now as long as you’re good-looking enough.
Crabby uploaded a reaction clip titled: “ZENO’S MILK ERA CONTINUES”
And with that, Zeno had yet again added a few (thousands) fans under his name.
***
The excitement had long faded into the air as the team stepped out of the spotlight and into the quiet of their waiting room. The lights were dimmed, and the only sounds came from bags zipping open and shoes squeaking as they packed up their belongings.
Zeno slipped his laptop into its sleeve.
Sangwon, still holding a small towel over his neck, finally broke the silence.
“Hey,” he said. “Why does Mimi get all the prize money?”
Zeno didn’t respond.
He adjusted the strap of his bag, reached for the water bottle beside the couch, and turned toward the door.
“Zeno,” Hyunbin called, sharper than Sangwon had been. “You’re really acting this way toward your seniors?”
Zeno paused.
He turned around slowly.
“I’m grateful to be on a team with people older than me. I was taught to respect that.”
“But I was also taught something else, sir.”
Hyunbin’s brows furrowed. “What?”
Zeno met his eyes. “Respect begets respect.”
There was a silence. Even the sound of zippers stopped.
Zeno continued. “Didn’t you say earlier that you were just here for the exposure? That it was the main objective?”
Hyunbin’s jaw tightened.
Zeno gave a small nod, almost like a bow. “Then please don’t ask me to explain why I gave it to someone who believed in this team from start to finish.”
Then, he turned to Mimi. “Take it without any remorse,” he said.
He smirked. “They don’t need it anyway.”