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Lesson I: Confidence
When entering any negotiation, there are three critical things to keep in mind: what you have, what you want, and what you’re willing to offer. Once those three things are established, you must stay true to those values at all costs. Know your worth. Keep your eye on the prize. Never sacrifice something you’re not willing to lose. If all else fails, you need to be ready to walk away from the table with nothing. The true victors are those who can thrive in their defeat.
Jaehyuk favored the two-person table in the center-back of the café. It was secluded enough to offer some semblance of privacy, covered enough to discourage a press leak, and yet close enough to the glass-pane windows to allow for sunlight to shine on through. It really opened up the space, made the discussion feel more natural and informal, which was a necessary thing: the last thing he wanted was for anyone to feel cornered.
When Jihoon entered, Jaehyuk waved him over with a polite smile and they placed their orders: dalgona coffee with a matcha cake for Jaehyuk, and for Jihoon, a taro milk tea.
“Coffee and matcha together?” Jihoon noted as they sat down with their food.
“Makes the flavors richer,” Jaehyuk mumbled, swallowing a sip of his drink before leaning across the table. “Can I be honest with you? I hate doing this.”
Jihoon nodded sympathetically. “It’s good practice, for interviews and the like.”
“I know. I hate those, too. They always want me to say that I’m the best or something, that it’s all easy for me. That there’s no luck involved, just raw, pure skill.” Irritated, he shook his head. “Skill isn’t enough in a game like this.”
“You need a team,” Jihoon supplied. “That’s where I come in.”
“Yes,” he acknowledged, looking up hopefully. “T1 is flipping most of their roster this year - subbing in their reserves, rookie top lane. With that, plus Geonhee finally being off Damwon, this might just be our best shot at the title. I think together, the two of us can pull it off.”
Jihoon hummed appreciatively, taking another sip of his tea. “I think you’re right. It’s the best chance either of us has had in years. That said, I’m fairly confident in my ability to realize that dream alone. I’ve received offers from other teams, of course, so pitch it to me: why should I sign with GenG, rather than going with HLE or DRX?”
Jaehyuk rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Naturally, the finance department can ensure that it’s worth your while…”
“I’m not talking about the salary, Jaehyuk.”
The team captain hesitated. “What else do you want?”
“I agree that this year is the best shot that we have, but if we’re really going for the trophy, we need to go all-out.” Threading his long, nimble fingers together, Jihoon elaborated, "You need a new support."
Jaehyuk’s face fell. "I've been playing with Jeongmin for four years.”
“And how has that been going for you?” he replied cooly, continuing before the other man could reply, “Jaehyuk, you’re the best ADC in the world and you’ve never won finals in your home region.”
Glaring across the table, Jaehyuk rumbled, “That’s not Jeungmin’s fault.”
“You’re right. It’s yours.”
“…Excuse me?”
Tapping the tip of his straw, the mid-laner determined, “You’re holding yourself back when you play. How many times in this past split have you dove into an aggressive trade, only for Life to pull you back out of it?”
Sheepishly, he confessed, “I can get a bit overaggressive at times.”
“That’s not the problem. The problem is that you’re not letting yourself give your all because you know that your team can’t handle it – that you don’t have the right support for that kind of playstyle. You don’t need someone to reign you in, Jaehyuk. You need someone to set you loose.”
Jaehyuk considered this, licking a line of coffee foam from his upper lip. “Maybe you have a point. The meta is shifting toward more combative bot lane duos.”
Jihoon nodded, reminding, “Sanghyuk’s going to have my Minseokie for another year. You’ve seen what he can do.”
“I have. It’s a shame T1 signed him for two years – I would have loved to take him on.” Jaehyuk narrowed his eyes at Jihoon, who was struggling to mute his smile as he considered his possibilities. “Do you have someone else in mind?”
Casually, he attempted, "Son Siwoo-"
"Absolutely not."
“Oh come on, Siwoo’s perfect for this! You’ve seen him play.”
“Yes, so I know that he’s irrational and unreliable.” Jaehyuk seethed through closed teeth, “He’s the exact opposite of Jeungmin.”
“Exactly. He’s the perfect enabler for you.” Jihoon pointed for emphasis. “Be honest: you’re at least a little intrigued by his playstyle.”
Jaehyuk sighed deeply, raising his coffee to his lips. “Even if I was, what makes you think that we’d be at all compatible?”
“Well, you’d test it out first. Go for a few trial runs together.” Jihoon dug his cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll call him up for you, if you want, see if he’s around to play a few matches with you today or tomorrow.”
“I seem to recall inviting you here to negotiate your contract, not his,” Jaehyuk reminded.
“Ah. Right. Let me put it this way, then:” Jihoon slid out of his chair, taking the last of his tea along with him. “Sign Siwoo, and I’m yours. Once he’s on the roster, we can discuss the specifics later.”
Completely perplexed by Jihoon’s ultimatum, he questioned, “Why are you so adamant about him?”
“Because he’s our best shot at winning. The LCK title, maybe even more.”
Jaehyuk looked incredulous. “You honestly believe that?”
With complete confidence, Jihoon answered:
“I do.”
He sighed again, this time squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll try things out with Siwoo.”
Jihoon nodded appreciatively, but before he could walk away, Jaehyuk called out, “You know he’s just going to leave at the end of the year, right? He always leaves – never plays with the same team twice in a row.”
Glancing back over his shoulder, Jihoon gave him a curious smile. “I didn’t know you were so familiar with his record.”
Jaehyuk dismissed the implication with a handwave, instead demanding, “Why? Why doesn’t he ever stay?”
Jihoon tilted his head pensively. “He doesn’t like to be tied down, I guess.” He took another step toward the door, but stopped himself upon noting Jaehyuk’s visible distress. “Anything else?”
Pursing his lips, the ADC all but whispered, “Are the rumors about him true?”
“Ah,” Jihoon clicked his tongue, grinning, “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”
Lesson II: Empathy
When trying to persuade someone to do something against their original inclination, it is vital to understand the other person’s perspective. Acknowledge their reluctance, and accept it. Know their fears, and address them. Listen to their questions, and answer to the fullest extent possible. To succeed, you must convince them that their goals and your own are one and the same, and what’s more, that you would mutually benefit from working together. You must convince them that you are on the same team.
Two years later, Jihoon was sitting in Jaehyuk’s seat, the one facing the door of the café. Same place, same table in the center of the back wall. It was a sort of tribute to the team’s former captain, to the one who’d put him in the place he was now. Jihoon hoped it would give him good luck.
It was already ten minutes past the time when the meeting was supposed to have started. Jihoon ordered himself his taro milk tea, which he was sipping patiently when his guest nervously entered the café, glancing around quickly as if hoping no one would be there and he could go home. Jihoon would offer him no such mercies and gleefully waved him over.
“Geonbu! Please, take a seat.”
Kim Geonbu gave a quick and awkward nod, perching himself on the very edge of his seat and admitting, “I felt bad about leaving you stranded.”
“I’m glad you made it. Please, order something.”
Geonbu shook his head. “I’m good, really.”
“Oh, come on! It’s the company card,” he grinned, wriggling said card between his fingers. “Treat yourself, courtesy of GenG.”
He looked at Jihoon wearily. “I only came to say that I’m flattered, but I’m planning on renewing my contract with D plus.”
“Oh.” Jihoon’s face slumped disappointedly as he rested his chin atop his hands. “Well, I’m supposed to stay here for at least another fifteen minutes. Since you came all this way, would you mind keeping me company?”
Geonbu ordered a hot green tea.
Jihoon smiled amicably at him across the table. “So, what about D plus Kia makes you want to stay?”
“It’s my home,” he shrugged. “I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.”
“But you said you were ‘planning on’ renewing your contract. Meaning you haven’t renewed it yet.”
Geonbu flinched. “I’m really not considering leaving.”
“Then why did you come here?”
His expression darkened. “I already told you, I felt bad about standing you up-”
“You could have just sent me a text. Instead, you showed up to the meeting.” Jihoon’s words were calm and patient. “Geonbu, it’s okay to think about it. It doesn’t make you a traitor to consider other options.”
“Doesn’t it?” he murmured. “We’ve been together for five years.”
Jihoon reached across the table to squeeze Geonbu’s arm, a soothing, almost maternal gesture. “Heo Su will understand.”
“If you honestly believe that, then you don’t know the first thing about him,” he replied bitterly. “How could he understand? He’s…”
Knowingly, Jihoon finished, “He’s amazing, isn’t he? Talented and brilliant and charismatic to boot. Always the biggest personality in the room.” His eyes flashed at Geonbu curiously. “And then there’s you.”
“Don’t try to spin it like that,” Geonbu scowled, “I’d rather stand in his shadow than in yours.”
“You wouldn’t be in my shadow, though. You’d be by my side, in the spotlight, where you belong.” Jihoon smiled meekly. “You know I’m not a big standout. Suhwan isn’t, either. He’s a sweet kid. You’d like him.”
“I’m sure I would, but that’s beside the point. I don’t care about the spotlight.”
“Oh come on,” Jihoon goaded, “No one becomes a professional e-sports player without having at least a bit of an ego.”
Voice strained with a weak frustration, he attempted, “I've been to the World Finals twice in the past four years. I even won MVP! What greater recognition could I possibly ask for?”
“Perhaps a legacy apart from the man who got you there?” Jihoon wagered. “Geonbu, you’re the best jungler in the world. You deserve to be acknowledged for that. Join us, just for one year, and if you hate it, you can always go back to D plus.”
Geonbu paused, his expression twisting sorrowfully as he finally divulged his deepest fear: “What if he won’t take me back?”
Jihoon knitted his eyebrows. “You think Heo Su wouldn’t take you back?”
“I can’t risk it.”
“Don’t you think he cares about you as the person, not the player?”
Geonbu stayed silent, and Jihoon’s eyes went wide with realization.
“You don’t actually know the answer to that, do you.”
When Geonbu finally spoke, his voice was dry, quiet. “We never really talk about it.” Mournfully, he stared down at his tea as if waiting for it to give him answers. It yielded nothing.
Jihoon couldn’t help but sympathize, once again patting Geonbu’s arm for comfort. “Well,” he tried hesitantly, “there is one way we could find out.”
The jungler took a slow, deep breath. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay. I’ll sign. Just for one year.”
Jihoon blinked with disbelief before breaking into a poised smile that was wrought with a tragic understanding of his soon-to-be teammate's predicament. “I’m glad to hear it. About your salary-”
“Blood money, every cent,” he dismissed scornfully. “I don’t want to make anything more than I do at D plus Kia. I don’t want anyone to accuse me of selling out.” Voice breaking, he admitted. “If they were to try to win me back with a higher contract, I’m not sure I could turn them down a second time.”
Jihoon had never seen someone so agonized to sign for one of the most successful teams in League history. Softly, he reminded, “It will only be for a year.”
Geonbu nodded solemnly. “Just one year.”
A few days later, Heo Su signed with D plus Kia for a full three years, almost as if to prove a point.
Lesson III: Knowledge
At the end of the day, the success of a negotiation boils down to how well you know your opponent and how well you know yourself. It is much easier to persuade someone you’re more familiar with since they will instinctively trust that you have their best interests at heart. With that said, you must always be cautious of those same people’s ability to persuade you in turn. If you don’t plant your feet, the person you’re trying to save from the edge of the cliff might very well pull you down with them.
One week later, Jihoon dragged Siwoo into the same café by the arm.
“Can’t we go somewhere else? I hate this place.”
“It’s tradition,” Jihoon insisted.
“All the more reason not to go.”
The pair ended up seated at the center-back table anyway. Jihoon ordered a lychee oolong tea this time, and Siwoo got matcha boba with tiramisu.
As they took their seats, Jihoon led with, “I watched your match against JDG. It was a rough game, Siwoo, I-”
“Jihoonie, please don’t pretend like you actually care.”
Jihoon frowned at Siwoo’s uncharacteristic pessimism. “I do care.”
“Fine, then can you care after we’re done with business? It feels disingenuous.”
“Of course. You already know what I’m going to ask, though, so go ahead and say what you will.”
The support shook his head, a soft smile on his lips and a crinkle of feigned sadness in his eyes.
“No.”
Jihoon pouted. “You wouldn’t have come if the answer was just ‘no’.”
“What, and pass up the opportunity for a drink on the company’s dime? Now that’s something I wouldn’t do.”
“Fair enough,” Jihoon sighed. After stirring his drink, he confirmed, “So there’s no way I can get you back on GenG.”
“I’m afraid not.” Siwoo picked at his cake. “You know how he would see it if I came back now.”
“And since when has the great Son Siwoo ever cared what some ADC thinks?”
“Ooh.” He paused. “Oh that is good, Jihoonie. Fine, then. Convince me.”
Jihoon took the opportunity and ran, “We’re on a three-final winning streak in the LCK. We’ll go to MSI, and Worlds, and crush the international scene - JDG, T1, and anyone else who stands in our way. Come on, Siwoo, I know we can do it together.” When Siwoo still hesitated, he threw in, “Plus you look good in gold.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Siwoo mused, biting his lip, “Alright, I’m considering it. It’ll be who - you, me, Hyunjoonie-”
“Nope, Hyunjoon is leaving. Wangho, too. Hanawha got a huge budget increase.”
Siwoo crinkled his nose. “Right, Dohyun did mention that. So who do we have, then? Rookies?”
“Well, we have Kim Geonbu in the jungle.”
“Ki- Heo Su’s Geonbu?” He let out a wide-eyed whistle. “How did you swing that? Did you fuck him?”
Jihoon groaned, “Siwoo…”
“I’m serious! I don’t understand how else something like that happens.”
The mid-laner rolled his eyes. “Some of us can convince people using words, you know.”
“Hmph.” Siwoo chewed on his straw. “There are more effective ways to use your mou-YOW!” He broke off into a laugh as Jihoon kicked his shin under the table. “Rude.”
“As I was saying, with the three of us, plus Suhwan, I think we have a pretty solid core. For the top laner, I was hoping you could pull Kiin for us.”
“Giin? Sure, I could pull Giin. I’m convincing him my way, though.”
Jihoon made a face. “I thought as much. Now-”
“Although, I can only imagine if you have Geonbu, that our salaries would be a bit tight,” Siwoo trilled, swinging his legs playfully. “Maybe Giin and I would be better off elsewhere…”
“Actually, no, he wouldn’t accept more than the standard fare. I can offer both you and Giin a five percent increase on what you have now.” Siwoo narrowed his eyes suspiciously, which prompted Jihoon to laugh, “Oh my God, I did not fuck Kim Geonbu!”
“Sure you didn’t,” Siwoo teased, “So we have our team, we have our salaries… I’m just gonna need one more thing before I sign.”
Jihoon side-eyed him. “What more could you possibly want?”
“Duo with me tonight, Jihoonie,” he grinned wickedly. “We’ll go with some inting botlane combo I brew up. We run it down lane, and still somehow win.”
Jihoon crossed his thumbs, his straight face caving into an amused smile. “I suppose I could use one of my burners-”
“Nope. We do it on main.”
“I can not run it down on main!” Jihoon cackled, “They’ll kick me off the team!”
“Perfect! Then we can both play on KT together!” Siwoo rubbed Jihoon’s wrists. “Do it. Do it or I won’t sign.”
“Fine,” he conceded at last. “I get to pick my own runes, though.”
That night, they went 17/0/5 and 3/2/29 respectively with Gnar-Evelynn botlane, traumatizing their allies and enemies alike for years to come.
Once your negotiation has ended, it is a good practice to reflect on how things went. What did you gain? What did you lose? What would you do differently if you could do it all again? These questions can lead to important lessons that can inform your next negotiation attempt, whenever that may be.
If you ever find that what you got was not quite what you expected, try not to take it too hard. You can always return to the table at a later date and fix anything you broke.
Personally, I’m inclined to believe that things will always end up where they’re meant to be, eventually.
- Jeong “Chovy” Jihoon