"Let me introduce you to KR Silver League, Rally."

It's a warm September afternoon in Seoul. The weather is perfect and the sky looks primed for a honey-orange sunset. But instead of heading to the Han River for waterside chimaek (chicken and beer) like a sensible native resident, I'm sitting in OGN's in-house PC bang, watching LCK interpreter Lee "JoelSophie" Seung-min play League of Legends solo queue.

Not that I'm complaining. Lee, or Joel, as everyone calls him, is a natural-born entertainer, the kind of person that gushes out enthusiasm like a leaky faucet. It feels like I'm watching a professional streamer. Whenever my mind starts drifting back to the riverfront grub I missed out on, he says or does something hilarious. Like first-banning Master Yi.

"Did you just --"

"Welcome to Silver, baby," he says, laughing. "I'm an LCK interpreter, not an LCK player. Why would you ever first ban Galio here?" As if to prove his point, he instantly locks in Twitch jungle when his turn comes; when I roll my eyes, he insists that the pick works just fine at this level of play. "This is actually one of my best picks! Just wait and see."

Three minutes later, he blindly trots into the enemy jungle and feeds first blood and double buffs to Gragas. I pull out my phone and take a photo of the grey screen. "The OGN legion will hear of this, Joel."

Joel covers his face in mock horror. "No... my budding career..."

Joel's career is indeed budding, perhaps even on the verge of blooming. Since joining OGN as a translator and interpreter in the summer of 2016, he has put in solid work on OGN's LCK English broadcast for over three splits, gathering respect in and out of the company. Many colleagues and viewers say that Joel has been one of OGN's best interpreters in recent years, likening him to previous post-holders such as William "Chobra" Cho, who has since gone on to work for ESL.

Due to the highly specific requirements of the job, it has always been easy to draw parallels between OGN's past and present bilingual talent. For instance, both Chobra and Joel had a South Korean childhood and an American adolescence. (Chobra was born American but lived in South Korea between ages 4 to 11; Joel was born South Korean but lived in the states from age 9 onwards.) But Joel really doesn't want to be thought of as the youngest scion of some great lineage.

"It's always a great honor to be compared to great talent, but I never think of myself like that," Joel says. "I try to forget about it all. I want to be unique. My talents, my limits, and my goals are my own."

What kind of limits?

"Well, I identify myself closer to an American, because I lived most of my formative years in America," he says. "I think in English, I count in English, my nonverbal communication is American... and my Korean is worse than my English. So if OGN asks me to do English-to-Korean work, I probably won't do it very well."

He was wrong. A month later, he went on OGN's Korean broadcast of Worlds 2017 to do exactly that, and aced it, earning tons of community adoration. But Joel's entire adult life has been about overcoming limits through hard work. Perhaps he had simply applied himself in the same fashion to this one.

Joel wouldn't have entered esports had it not been for the unfortunate downfall of his father's business, which sent the family into financial turmoil and forced them to move back to South Korea in 2011. Once he arrived, Joel suspended his college education and took up all the teaching jobs he could land in order to support his family's economic recovery. Once they were somewhat back on their feet, he then took off for the army in order to fulfill his mandatory military duties as a South Korean citizen.

During his service, Joel was sent as an interpreter to the 2015 CISM Military World Games, an international multi-sport competition for military sportspeople. Although he had no interpretation experience prior to his conscription, he soon found that interpreting sports events was fun, and he was pretty good at it, too.

As fate would have it, OGN happened to be looking for a new interpreter when he was discharged. He had little knowledge about esports, but he had loved video games ever since he was a child, and gaming had been his only hobby in suburban Nashville. The job sounded like a fun mix between his oldest passion and newest interest. He applied, interviewed, and was accepted.

He can still remember his first day on the job. The OGN studio is hectic on broadcast days, and production staff don't have time to give new contractors a full tour. When he arrived to work, he didn't even get to say hi to anyone until it was time for him to head up to the casters' booth. That's where he met Christopher "PapaSmithy" Smith.

"Papa really, really helped me become part of the group," Joel says. "As soon as we met, he made me feel welcome, warm, gave me confidence, advice, feedback, all the little things I needed to know. I wouldn't have fit myself in on my own at first. Someone had to help me. And Papa was that person."

Thanks to Smith's generous assistance, Joel soon became one of OGN's tight-knit LCK family. Within it, his love and knowledge of esports grew, and the more he learned, the more he realized that he truly wanted to succeed in the field. Although his starting pay was atrocious -- "My mom told me to quit after she saw my first paycheck, saying it was really, really bad, really really low," he recounts -- he had faith in his vision and convinced his parents to believe in it too.

He turned out to be right. Over time, his rates were bumped up to a reasonable level, and thanks to the quality of his work, he has received more and more opportunities across games. Last May, he had his first dream-come-true moment in esports: becoming an OGN caster for Blade & Soul. The game's esports scene may be miniscule compared to League, but Joel was elated to finally wear a caster's hat.

For someone as expressive as Joel, being an interpreter can be stifling and unfulfilling. "A lot of people tell me that I'm an integral part of the LCK broadcast team, but sometimes I don't feel like I have any value at all," he says. "I do it because it's my job, but I'm unsure about what I really bring. Being off-camera for all broadcast long, only talking for about 10 minutes every few hours... I just never felt that important."

In the future, Joel wants to move more towards casting or hosting. "As a caster, everything you say is your thoughts, your expressions, your feelings -- and being free to express myself as much as I can makes me happier. The same applies for hosting. I'm actually looking into starting a podcast for Korean esports fans that reviews current industry issues alongside guest speakers."

Will he be looking to leave the LCK broadcast, then? At the moment it seems unlikely ("I love interpreting and I will continue doing it," he says) but if an opportunity to cast another league comes his way, and its schedule conflicts with LCK, it could be his cue to leave. "I really want to establish myself anew in a game I can grow together with," he says. "I would love to cast PlayerUnknown's Battlegrounds, for instance."

Lee "JoelSophie" Seung-min in the casting booth. Young Jae Jeon for ESPN

The jungle Twitch game ends just in time (Joel's team won; he was right about Silver League after all) for Joel to get a last-minute makeup fix before tonight's Blade & Soul broadcast. Joel goes to the downstairs makeup room for his touch-up. I head down to the arena to grab a seat next to the English casters' booth. After a few minutes, he waddles up to the booth with what seems to be a little more stuff in his hair.

"One minute 'till we're live!" the producer yells.

Grinning like a boy on Christmas morning, Joel chats a bit with his co-caster, bouncing up and down in his seat, hands flying around everywhere. He flips through all his notes one last time, then turns to me in the stands.

"Root for me Rally!" he yells, waving. "Gimme them VoHiYos in Twitch chat!"

I roll my eyes and pull out my iPad.