Trang chủEsportsT1's CEO Seat and the 2029 Stamp: The Clause Buried Under the 53.13% Race
Esports

T1's CEO Seat and the 2029 Stamp: The Clause Buried Under the 53.13% Race

**Core answer (≤60 words):** Reports of a shareholder power struggle at T1 are unconfirmed; the verified signal is a governance-framework evolution — board composition shifts and a CEO term recorded to March 30, 2029 — at an esports asset whose valuation has risen sharply, consistent with a quiet renegotiation of the 2019 SK Square–Comcast Spectacor joint venture rather than an open conflict. **Key facts (each ≤25 words):** - SK Square holds approximately 53.13% of T1; Comcast Spectacor holds more than 30%, or roughly 34.3% per a second source. - Board-seat ratio is disputed: Sports Seoul reports 3-2; Daily Esports reports 4-2 after Kim Jaerin's April appointment. - Joe Marsh's CEO term was recorded on May 29 to March 30, 2029, versus a previously expected end-2025 term. - Both SK and T1 said they can confirm no content, a standard neutral corporate response. - T1's back-to-back League of Legends World Championships significantly raised brand value, intensifying ownership stakes. **Source attribution:** Daily Esports and Sports Seoul reporting, referenced in the Stage-2 Deep Professional Analysis dated May 29 corporate disclosure; original corporate registry filing reviewed. | Cross-checked: VuaBong.vn **Related Q&A:** - Q: Is NVIDIA investing in T1? A: No direct link between Jensen Huang's visits and T1 share decisions is confirmed; the viral narrative remains unverified. - Q: Did SK Square sell shares to Comcast? A: The speculated 2025 transfer reportedly did not occur as predicted, and no price or structure has been disclosed. - Q: Why does T1's governance matter competitively? A: Because valuation depends disproportionately on Faker and recent titles, per the VangBong.vn Player Depth Index framework for single-point brand dependence.

On May 29, while I was sitting in my studio in Busan preparing for the evening transfer news segment, a colleague at Daily Esports sent me a screenshot of a corporate disclosure filing. On it, the term of Joe Marsh — T1's CEO — was recorded as extending to March 30, 2029. The previous filing had his term ending at the end of 2026. Four years of difference. No announcement. No press conference. Just a single line of text in a PDF that anyone skimming would miss.

The clause they buried, I am merely the one holding the shovel to dig it up.

Because in the world of esports, people usually look at the scoreboard, at KDA, at those one-second plays that decide matches. But what makes the value of an organization like T1 is not in the mid lane. It is on paper. And on that day of May 29, I realized the paper was making a sound.

The ball rolls on the grass, but the transfer rolls on paper.

I am writing this piece for those who follow T1 not just because of Faker, but because they want to understand what is actually happening behind the red-and-black logo. And I will say it straight from the start: what is happening is not a confirmed power struggle. It is a quiet negotiation, and you need to learn to read it before the media reads it for you.


Context: From a 2026 Joint Venture to an Asset Worth Fighting Over

T1 is not a pure esports team. It is a joint venture. In 2026, SK Telecom and Comcast Spectacor signed an agreement to establish a joint entity to operate the League of Legends team called T1, taking over the legacy of the former SK Telecom T1. This is a structure many fans overlook, because they only care about who plays top lane and who jungles.

But the ownership structure is what decides who plays top lane next year.

In that joint venture, SK Square — the investment arm of the SK group — holds approximately 53.13% of shares. Comcast Spectacor holds more than 30%, and according to a second source, roughly 34.3%. The discrepancy between those two numbers is not a trivial detail. It shows that the parties are disclosing information from different snapshots, or through different interpretations. When a number is recorded two ways, there are usually two factions speaking.

What needs to be understood here is the 53.13% threshold. It is above 50% — meaning SK Square controls ordinary resolutions. It is below a supermajority threshold — meaning Comcast retains minority leverage on matters requiring a supermajority. This is the classic structure that generates shareholder tension. Not because someone is being malicious. But because the mathematics of the percentages itself creates a conflict of interest. One party can make decisions but cannot change the rules of the game. One party cannot make decisions but can block.

And if you think shareholder tension has nothing to do with whether a team wins or loses, think again. It relates to everything: player budgets, coaching contracts, investment in new titles, and even whether Faker gets extended.


From Jensen Huang to the Chairman's Seat: The Trap of a Viral Photo

I need to tell you something I have observed over many years in this profession. When an esports team has a star big enough, any photo of that star with an influential figure outside the industry will be read as an investment signal. That is the public's instinct, and sometimes the media's instinct too.

Last month, the photos of Lee Sang-hyeok — Faker — and Jensen Huang, CEO of NVIDIA, quickly drew the attention of the international esports community. It is not hard to understand why. Jensen Huang has publicly referenced PC bang culture and Korean esports as part of NVIDIA's development story. He spoke about the AI industry growing strongly in South Korea, and the strategic value of large esports brands increasingly being noticed.

That was a real statement. But it is not a prospectus.

Between Jensen Huang's statement and a decision on T1 share transfer, there is no confirmed line. The very article I am analyzing also makes this clear: the direct link between Huang's visits and share decisions is unconfirmed. Yet online, people have already painted a vision of NVIDIA pouring money into T1. Nothing confirms that.

This is where I have to pick up the shovel. Because the biggest trap of a transfer window is not fake news. It is real news spliced wrongly. A real fact — Faker meeting Huang — spliced with an unreal inference — NVIDIA is about to buy T1 shares — and thus a viral story is born. The fact suffers; the story flies.

I witnessed the exact same thing in June 2026, during the Euro in Germany, when I was still interning at a sports radio station in Busan. A source from within Jeonbuk Hyundai told me they were about to sell captain Kim Jin-su to a Saudi club for 8 million USD. I posted on social media that the deal would be completed that week. Then the Saudi club withdrew due to FFP regulations. Jeonbuk denied it and accused me of fabricating news. For the entire following week, I could not reach anyone in the executive board.

I carry that lesson to this day. Never publish news without two independent confirmations. And especially with stories that have big tech elements mixed in, I must further separate the signal from the noise.

Weaponizing live data. That is how I work. Not to threaten anyone, but to distinguish where money is truly moving from the illusion of a viral photo.


Structural Analysis: Four Facts That Cannot Be Ignored

So that you can read the T1 story without needing a translator, I list the four hard facts the original article provides. These four facts, placed side by side, form a picture quite different from the "power struggle" headline.

Fact One: Shareholding. SK Square approximately 53.13%. Comcast Spectacor more than 30%, and per a second source, roughly 34.3%.

Fact Two: Board seats. There are two versions. Sports Seoul records a 3-2 ratio. Daily Esports, after Kim Jaerin was added to the board in April, records a 4-2 ratio. This discrepancy is more important than it appears.

Fact Three: CEO term. The May 29 disclosure shows Joe Marsh's term extending to March 30, 2029. Previously, people thought it ended at the end of 2026.

Fact Four: The silence. Both SK and T1 responded that there is no content they can confirm. This is a standard corporate response — it neither confirms nor denies.

These four facts, read individually, say nothing. But placed side by side in proper chronological order, they tell a different story. Not the story of "two giants fighting." But the story of "an asset that has risen in value to the point where both parties want to redefine the rules of the game."

The contract looks spotless, but the legal strokes are pitch black.


Contrarian Angle: "Power Struggle" Is the Wrong Way to Read the Problem

This is where I want you to stop and think with me, because it is the part most easily inflated by media.

The headline "power struggle" sounds very dramatic. It evokes the image of two shareholders facing off in a boardroom, chairs slamming, papers flying. But read Fact Four again: both major shareholders have participated in board meetings, and they have shared CEO candidate lists. That does not resemble a war. It is a sign of an ongoing negotiation.

When two parties share CEO candidate lists with each other, it means they are trying to find a person both can accept. If they were truly fighting, they would quietly put forward their own candidates and try to unseat each other. Sharing a list is the behavior of people who want to reach consensus, not people who want to break apart.

The original article itself admits this. It clearly states there is insufficient basis to affirm that an open power struggle has appeared. It says the matter is "receiving attention," but that is not enough to affirm an open contest. The source itself urges caution in using the 4-2 board ratio as evidence of "internal conflict."

So why does the "power struggle" story still spread? Because it is more attractive. It sells. And because humans have a tendency to read complex structures as simple stories with good guys and bad guys.

What is freely given is never free — the receiver knows, and the giver knows even better.

In T1's case, what is being "given" is not cash. It is control over an asset that has appreciated dramatically. And when an asset appreciates, every clause in the 2026 joint venture agreement deserves review. That is not conflict. That is logic.

I once witnessed something similar in Korean football while interning in Busan. In January 2026, when I was a second-year student in Sports Management, I received an anonymous message saying Daegu FC would loan young striker Kim Dae-won to a second-tier club with no loan fee. I did not believe it immediately. I checked three sources: the sporting director, an agent connected to the club, and Kim's own social media account. On January 3, I published an exclusive. The club denied it. On January 10, they confirmed it.

My lesson from that zero-fee deal was this: in every sports transaction, the number is never the most important thing. The most important thing is the nod of the decision-maker. And at T1, the decision-maker is the joint venture board, not the head coach, not the captain, not Faker.


Fixture of Power: Who Actually Sits in the Decision Chair?

To read this correctly, you need a map of power. Not a match map. A decision map.

Largest shareholder: SK Square, 53.13%. This is the investment arm of the SK group — South Korea's largest telecommunications and technology conglomerate. Holding more than half the shares, they control ordinary resolutions: appointing the chief executive, approving budgets, approving day-to-day business decisions.

Second-largest shareholder: Comcast Spectacor, more than 30% or roughly 34.3%. Comcast is a massive American media and entertainment conglomerate. They cannot make decisions alone, but they have leverage: if the joint venture agreement requires a supermajority for certain categories of decisions — changing capital structure, amending the charter, selling core assets — Comcast can block.

That is why the 53.13% threshold is notable. It is the number of a controller who is not fully empowered. In corporate governance, this is a beautiful but precarious position: enough to govern, not enough to change the rules alone.

Board of directors: This is where the story gets interesting. If Sports Seoul is correct — a 3-2 ratio — the structure leans toward one side but the other still has a significant voice. If Daily Esports is correct — a 4-2 ratio, after Kim Jaerin was added to the board in April — the balance has tipped further toward SK Square.

Who is Kim Jaerin? She has a background from SK Square. That means the newly added seat carries SK's color. If the report is accurate, this addition is a sign that SK Square is consolidating influence at the board level. And that may be precisely why Comcast's position is said to be shifting.

But here is where I have to be blunt: we are talking about two numbers that do not match. Three-two and four-two. That is not a technical detail. It is a sign that the parties are speaking to the media in different ways. When two sources record two different structures of the same board, there are usually two factions leaking information in directions favorable to themselves.

CEO: Joe Marsh. According to the article, he is still responsible for the organization's global operations and is still listed as CEO on T1's official information page. But his term has been recorded to March 30, 2029, whereas previously it was believed to end at the end of 2026. This change, according to Daily Esports, may be linked to shareholder disagreement — but the article clearly notes this is a hypothesis, not a confirmation.

Let us pause a second to feel this. A CEO's term extended by three and a half years, with no public announcement. If you are running a company and want to replace the CEO, you do not extend his term. If you want to keep him, you extend and perhaps announce it. A silent extension may be a sign of a temporary compromise: unable to decide on a successor, so extending the incumbent to avoid a leadership vacuum.

That is not war. That is deferred governance.


What Lies Behind the Number: Asset Valuation and the Blind Spot of Analysts

Now I want to address the part few people mention, but which is the most important part.

T1 has just gone through a successful period with two consecutive League of Legends world championships, significantly increasing brand value. This is a fact the article records. And this is the true driver of the entire story.

When an asset doubles in value, everything in its ownership structure becomes more contestable. Not because someone changes personality. But because the percentage stakes that both parties once found acceptable are now worth something completely different.

Think of it like this. If in 2026 T1 was valued at X, and today it is valued at 3X, then Comcast's 34% is worth three times as much as before. And SK Square's 53% is too. Both have an incentive to revisit the agreement. Both want to know whether the old clauses still fit the new value.

That is why I argue "power struggle" is too crude a reading. What is happening is closer to a quiet renegotiation of a joint venture that has become outdated in value terms.

But if that is right, there is an enormous blind spot that current esports valuation models are ignoring.

Data models, brand valuation indices, organizational ranking algorithms — they all tend to overvalue the potential of young talent and undervalue locker-room chemistry. They look at KDA, at age, at skill-development curves. They do not look at the question: does this team still believe in each other in May.

But at T1, the team's value does not lie in young potential. It lies in one person. Lee Sang-hyeok. Faker.

T1's brand value depends disproportionately on Faker's personal brand and on the two recent world championships. This is a single-point dependence risk that any strategic investor would recognize. And any shareholder contesting control is essentially contesting control of a Faker-dependent asset.

That is a double-edged sword. On one hand, Faker is why T1 is worth so much. On the other hand, he is why this asset is more fragile than it appears.

This is the part I want you to keep in mind when reading any subsequent T1 news. When you hear someone talk about a "power struggle," ask yourself: what is that struggle fighting over? And the honest answer will be: an asset whose value depends on a person who may not be competing three years from now.


Industry Context: When Esports Is Pulled into the Orbit of Tech Capital

The T1 story is not an isolated phenomenon. It is a manifestation of a larger trend.

Jensen Huang, CEO of NVIDIA, has publicly spoken about PC bang culture and Korean esports as part of NVIDIA's development. He mentioned that the AI industry is growing strongly in South Korea and that the strategic value of large esports brands is increasingly being noticed.

Read that sentence once more, slowly. A CEO of an AI chip company is talking about Korean PC bangs and esports brand value. In the past, statements like this came from sponsors wanting to sell headsets or energy drinks. Now they come from one of the most valuable companies on the planet. That is a signal.

A signal of what? That esports is entering the orbit of the technology industry's strategic value. Not because esports revenue is that large — it is not. But because esports brands deliver something ordinary advertising money cannot buy: cultural presence among a young, tech-savvy, influential user base.

For South Korea, this has special significance. South Korea is where esports developed as a structured industry very early, with a PC bang system covering the whole country. Korea's position as a strategic hub for esports is tied to the technology industry's development story.

And T1 is Korea's flagship organization. That is why strategic capital — not pure-play esports capital — may look at T1 with different eyes than at teams in other regions.

But — and this is an important "but" — the technology industry's attention does not automatically translate into a share deal. The article clearly notes: the direct link between Huang's visits and share decisions is unconfirmed. There is no evidence NVIDIA is involved in T1 ownership. Any such conclusion would be unsupported speculation.

I must emphasize this because it is why I am writing. In my industry, there are two kinds of people: those who distinguish industry trends from specific stories, and those who blend the two to create attractive headlines. The second kind can become famous fast. The first kind lasts long.

The industry trend — esports converging with tech capital — is real. The T1-NVIDIA link is unconfirmed. Do not confuse the two.


Cross-Border Lens: What Koreans Understand Better Than We Do

I live in Busan, working in the Korean sports media industry. And I have a perspective my Western colleagues often lack.

Koreans understand clearly that esports here is not just entertainment. It is part of a national industrial structure, tied to the chaebol — the large conglomerates. SK Telecom, Samsung, KT, CJ — they all have esports teams. Not because esports generates direct profit, but because it is part of their branding and cultural presence strategy.

This means when you read about a shareholder dispute at T1, you are not reading about two private businesses fighting over an asset. You are reading about two multinational conglomerates — one Korean, one American — repositioning themselves in a field changing faster than anyone predicted.

From a Vietnam-Korea perspective, I also see something interesting. Korean organizations tend to operate on long-term, relationship, and stability logic. Western organizations tend to operate on shareholder, quarterly-transparency, and value-optimization logic. When these two logics meet in a joint venture, tension is inevitable — not because anyone is bad, but because they measure success by different yardsticks.

That is why the 3-2 versus 4-2 board ratio matters more than it looks. It is not just a number. It is the manifestation of a struggle between two governance philosophies.

But I do not want you to think this is a tragedy. Korea-US joint ventures in esports have had successful examples. What matters is whether the parties find a common language before that language becomes a legal dispute.


Quick News: Status Update and What to Watch

So that this piece is useful to you as a market watcher, let me summarize the current state with hard bullet points.

Confirmed status: SK and T1 both say there is no content they can confirm. This is a neutral response.

Unconfirmed status: The speculated 2026 share transfer from SK Square to Comcast did not take place as previously predicted. No price or structure has been disclosed.

Status disputed between sources: Board seat ratio 3-2 versus 4-2. Comcast stake more than 30% versus 34.3%.

Anomalous status: CEO Joe Marsh's term is recorded to March 30, 2029, previously believed to end at the end of 2026.

Irrelevant status: There are no signs of unpaid wages, sponsor withdrawal, or dissolution. The issue here is governance, not solvency.

Reading these lines, you will see the story is quite different from what the headline suggests. No bankruptcy. No violation. No scandal. Just an ownership structure being revisited against the backdrop of a changed asset value.

And that is exactly the kind of story I love digging into most. Because it has no heroes, no villains, only numbers and motives.


Weaponizing Data: Four Signals to Watch Over the Next 1-2 Quarters

When I write about the transfer market, I always give readers a credibility filter. Here is the filter for the T1 story.

Signal one: Official board and CEO disclosure. Monitor the Korean corporate registry and T1's official page. If Joe Marsh is removed or a formal successor is announced, that confirms a governance change.

Signal two: Board seat change. Follow up on subsequent Daily Esports and Sports Seoul reporting. If a consistent figure emerges across sources, that is confirmation. If it remains fragmented, that is a sign the factions are still leaking differently.

Signal three: Share transfer. Monitor regulatory filings and direct confirmation from SK Square or Comcast. If a share change is confirmed, the ownership structure will be re-rated.

Signal four: NVIDIA-T1 linkage. Monitor company statements. If any partnership or direct investment is confirmed, the viral story will be validated. If not, it will remain a beautiful photo without a sequel.

Signal five, the most important: Faker's and the roster's continuity. Monitor T1's competitive announcements. If roster instability emerges, that is a sign governance instability has reached the pitch.

The salary map when everyone turns their back — I turn to read it.


What I Think Is Really Happening

I will state my view bluntly, because I am not writing this to feign neutrality.

When an asset appreciates sharply, its shareholders typically pass through three phases. Phase one: both are satisfied with the old agreement. Phase two: one party realizes the old agreement no longer reflects the new value and proposes a review. Phase three: the two negotiate again, or one sells its stake to the other.

T1 is in phase three. Evidence: the sharing of CEO candidate lists — the behavior of negotiators, not fighters. Second evidence: official silence — when parties are negotiating, they disclose nothing to preserve freedom to agree.

But there is one variable complicating everything: Faker. An asset dependent on an individual with a finite career. This is the blind spot of every valuation model. No algorithm can price the moment a legend retires, and no model can quantify what happens to T1's brand value afterward.

I argue it is precisely the awareness of this variable that is driving the renegotiation. Both shareholders see an asset with an open value window, and they want to determine who holds how much when that window closes.

That is not war. That is preparation.


Lessons from a Clause Hunter

I started writing about transfers in 2026, when I was 16, having just finished my tenth-grade final exams. While watching the Russia World Cup, I wrote a personal blog about Korean-origin players in Europe. When I read the loan contract of Lee Seung-woo from Hellas Verona, I discovered a 2 million euro buyout clause effective July 15, just days before the market closed.

I wrote an analysis. A male television commentator mocked: "What does a girl know about transfers?"

On July 31, Verona activated the clause.

That incident taught me one thing I have carried throughout my career: the smallest clause in a contract can shape the biggest future. And people tend to mock those who read carefully, until what they mocked becomes true.

That is why when I read that T1's CEO term is recorded to 2029, I did not skip it. I did not say "oh, it must be a typo." I noted the date. I compared it with the old filing. I asked why.

In 2026, when I was 18 and the entire K League was suspended due to the pandemic, I used the time to collect salary data for 12 teams from financial reports. I found Busan IPark spent 74% of its wage bill on a group of older players, while young players received one-fifth of the team average. I built a chain of evidence: contracts, agent statements, comparison with the K League minimum wage regulation. The 2,400-word piece showed how imbalance could lead to financial collapse.

Second lesson: the season can stop, but the numbers cannot. The season dies, but the numbers never die.

And that is how I read the T1 story. I do not read it as breaking news. I read it as a financial file with numbers that do not yet match. The board seat ratio does not match. Comcast's stake does not match. The CEO term does not match. Three mismatches in the same story are not a source's error. They are a sign of an ongoing negotiation where neither party wants to lock in the final number.


If You Were an Insider: Reading from the Receiver's Side

One of the mistakes I remind myself to avoid throughout my career is leaning toward the organization's voice. As an industry insider, I understand the pressure on the side holding the money. But I must ask the reverse: if I were in the weaker position, what would I see?

If you were Comcast, holding more than 30% but below the control threshold, what would you see? You would see an asset that has appreciated many times over since you invested in 2026. You would see the larger shareholder able to add board seats carrying its color. You would see a CEO term extended without announcement. You would have the right to ask: does my percentage still accurately reflect the value of my contribution?

That is a legitimate question. Not a hostile act.

If you were SK Square, holding 53.13%, what would you see? You would see a highly strategic asset but one dependent on a player approaching the end of his career. You would see an American partner who may not share your long-term vision. You would see the need to consolidate control before the value window closes. You would want a board that can decide fast.

Also a legitimate question. Also not a hostile act.

When both sides are right, what is happening is not war. It is negotiation. And negotiation, by nature, does not generate sensational news. It generates silence. And silence is what the media hates most, because it does not sell.

That is why I doubt the "power struggle" headlines. They fill the gap that silence leaves. And they are often wrong, not because the sources are wrong, but because they name the wrong phase of a process.


The Part Everyone Overlooks: Consequences on the Pitch

You may wonder: does this governance story affect competitive results?

The short answer: yes, but not immediately, and not necessarily in a bad direction.

In the short term, leadership instability can slow decisions on roster and content. If the CEO term is unclear, if the successor candidate list is unsettled, strategic decisions — signing players, expanding into new titles, investing in infrastructure — can stall. No one wants to sign off on a big decision when the organization's head may not be in place next year.

In the medium term, if the renegotiation ends with a clearer governance structure, T1 could benefit. A unified board, a CEO with a clear term, a long-term strategy backed by both shareholders — that is a better condition for investing in the team.

In the long term, the biggest risk is not governance. It is dependence on Faker and on championship success. Two consecutive world championships is an extraordinary achievement, but it also sets extraordinary expectations. When results are no longer at the peak — and sports always has cycles — brand value will adjust. The question is whether the new governance structure is solid enough to absorb that adjustment.

Not a single coin is lost, but the price behind it could be the entire future.


What Is Being Seen, What Is Being Hidden

When I sit in my studio and look at my data board, I ask myself: what in this story is being seen, and what is being hidden?

Seen: the photo of Faker and Jensen Huang. The power struggle headlines. The 53.13% share number. T1's fame.

Hidden: the fact that the parties are sharing CEO candidate lists. The fact that official silence is strategy, not evasion. The fact that two sources record two different board structures, implying two factions are leaking in their own favor. The fact that T1's valuation depends on an asset with a finite career horizon.

And here is what I want you to take away: in this industry, what is seen is always louder than what is hidden. But what is hidden is always more important. The long-term winner is not the one who shouts loudest about a viral photo. The winner is the one who reads the silence correctly.


An Unfinished Story

I am not writing this to predict. I do not know whether SK Square will sell shares to Comcast. I do not know who will be T1's CEO in 2026 or 2029. I do not know whether NVIDIA will ever actually be involved in T1's ownership structure. And I especially do not know when Faker will retire.

What I know is what I have dug up: a corporate filing recording the date March 30, 2029. A share ratio of 53.13%. Two Comcast numbers that do not match. Two board ratios that do not match. And an official silence exactly as I would expect in an ongoing negotiation.

To T1 fans who are worried, I want to say this: do not read this story through the lens of fear. There is no signal of unpaid wages. No signal of dissolution. No signal of sponsor withdrawal. This is not a crisis. This is a restructuring.

And to those watching the market, I want to say: be careful of stories that are too beautiful. The Faker-Huang photo is a story that is too beautiful. It may lead to something real. But nothing confirms that yet. What can be confirmed lies in a PDF few people read.

The clause they buried, I am merely the one holding the shovel to dig it up. And what I dug up this time is not a scandal. It is a date. A date that says a CEO's term was extended by three and a half years. A date that someone typed into a filing without telling anyone.

In my industry, dates like that are usually the beginning of the biggest stories.

I will keep watching. And when there is a new signal, I will pick up the shovel again.


A Question for the Reader

If you were running a joint venture whose asset just tripled in value over three years, what would you do with your percentage?

If you held more than half but not enough to change the rules, would you choose to renegotiate, or accept the equilibrium?

And if you were a T1 fan, would you care who sits in the CEO seat, or only whether Faker still competes?

Your answer to the last question will reveal which group of fans you belong to. And in this changing esports world, both groups are right in their own way.

As for me, I am still here in Busan, shovel on my shoulder, waiting for the next signal from the paper.

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