Chapter 81 – Winning The Championship.
Sang Ye and Tan Mo finally arrived at the players’ area.
Tan Mo’s face had regained some color, no longer looking deathly pale, but there was still a hint of weariness in his expression.
From Xiao Pai’s impression, every time Tan Mo looked like this, it was usually right before he had to step away from the game.
From the Spring Split until now, they had been competing in tournaments big and small for nearly a year. Xiao Pai had a pretty good idea of what was wrong with Tan Mo, but since Tan Mo never spoke about it, Xiao Pai—normally the loudest and most talkative one—didn’t pry.
As long as Tan Mo could still play, Xiao Pai was willing to believe that things would be fine. And with Sang Ye, their strongest support, on the team, Xiao Pai could rest easy.
On the live streaming platform, the PCL commentators’ voices were filled with excitement:
“Welcome to the final day of PGC! Everyone is on edge, eagerly awaiting the results. We hope that our region’s players can deliver outstanding performances today—leaving no regrets on the world stage!”
“Exactly! Based on the current leaderboard, WLG is in third place, behind HK and the North American powerhouse TL. WLG had a slow start on Day 1, but they really found their rhythm on Day 3. The big question is—can they maintain this momentum today? Looking at the support rate, it’s clear that expectations for WLG are sky-high!”
In the players’ area, everyone was adjusting their equipment.
Xiao Pai counted on his fingers, going over the current rankings:
“We’re still more than 40 points behind first-place HK. And the prize difference? A whopping 800,000! That means every single point is worth $20,000! One kill? That’s 150,000 RMB! No way—we have to win! Whether I get to brag in front of my relatives during New Year’s depends entirely on this match!”
Sang Ye: “Pathetic.”
“Oh, come on!” Xiao Pai fired back. “Look at this guy—our little coal mine owner, acting all high and mighty!” He perked up and added, “Since money means nothing to you, how about you give me your share of the prize if we win?”
“No.” Sang Ye pulled one side of his headset away, casually running his fingers through his hair, his face completely expressionless. “I’m saving up to buy something.”
“Tch, buy what?” Xiao Pai scoffed. “Singles’ Day sales are over.”
Sang Ye: “Then I’ll wait for Double 12. Problem?”
Xiao Pai: “…Fair enough.”
Just then, Tan Mo’s voice came through the team comms: “Are you short on money?”
Sang Ye immediately straightened up, instinctively correcting himself: “No, I’m not.”
Tan Mo replied calmly, “If you need money, ask me.”
Sang Ye’s heart skipped a beat. He nervously scrolled his mouse wheel and muttered dryly, “…I really don’t need any.”
“D*mn!” Xiao Pai exclaimed. “Brother, you’re way too generous! He can just straight-up ask you for money?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Even real brothers settle their finances properly. You two are really something else. Wait… am I thinking what I think I’m thinking? Does that mean I can ask you for money too?”
“Sure, but remember to pay it back,” Tan Mo said. “After all, you are my real brother.”
“……”
Xiao Pai hadn’t even processed what that meant when the last beam of light in the arena went dark.
The match had begun.
The first round featured a west-to-east flight path, slightly skewed north.
From the air, Xiao Pai scanned the jump spots around them, sighing for what felt like the hundredth time: “Ever since we beat HK into submission in the winners’ bracket, no one dares to contest P City anymore. This is way too comfortable.”
Hu Fu added, “It just goes to show—sometimes, knowing when to let go is the key to moving forward.”
HK had played smart, and now they were sitting in first place.
The team’s defining trait was simple: as long as they didn’t mess up in the early game, they would only get stronger as the match progressed.
After landing, Tan Mo adjusted his wrist and began marking locations on the map: “Stick to the 1-1-2 split. Xiao Pai, keep an eye on the garage. Hu Fu, hold the highest point.”
Sang Ye didn’t need instructions—he already knew what to do.
At the one-minute mark, the first safe zone appeared, centering around Y City, with P City left outside the circle.
For WLG, this was a less-than-ideal zone, as crossing into the next phase would likely result in losses along the way.
Hu Fu, positioned at the top floor of the church, peered through his high-powered scope, watching the convoys snaking through the hills. He clicked his tongue. “They clipped the edge of the circle just right. The west and south sides are packed—things are about to get messy… Should we push into Y City?”
While picking up attachments from the ground, Tan Mo smoothly avoided a window and responded, his mental map of the terrain already forming a relocation path: “We’ll play edge—head for K City.”
Xiao Pai was stunned. “That’s insane.”
K City was in the far northeast of the map. Getting there meant crossing bridges, traversing mountains, and constantly seeking weak spots to break through.
“We’re gambling on a hard shift,” Tan Mo said.
Sang Ye finished looting and linked up with Xiao Pai. The two split their vehicles and supplies, then set off to pick up Tan Mo and Hu Fu.
At the two-minute mark, WLG began rotating northeast.
One of the commentators, Commentator A, analyzed the situation: “WLG is moving quickly this round, opting for a deep weak-side rotation. But first, they’ll have to pass the Bridgehead Four Houses. The Thai team is sharp—they’ve already set up a two-man ambush there. The question is, will WLG catch on?”
At the front of the convoy, Tan Mo was driving, with Sang Ye in the passenger seat.
They were still some distance from the water bridge when they spotted a formation of vehicles on either side of the bridge.
It could have been a natural spawn point, or it might have been a deliberate blockade.
Sang Ye switched to his Kar98K, leaned out of the car window, and scoped in. “Pai, find an angle. Hu Fu, set up overwatch.”
With a series of crisp, rapid bolt-action pulls, each of Sang Ye’s shots hit a tire, disabling them one by one. As they closed the distance, he quickly switched to an SMG and unleashed a barrage of bullets at the vehicles.
If a vehicle takes enough damage, it explodes—if someone was hiding behind, they’d have no choice but to reveal themselves.
Sure enough, figures sprang out from behind the cars on both sides of the bridge.
The moment they peeked out, Hu Fu sniped the one on the left, knocking them down.
Sang Ye sprayed down the enemy on the right, then quickly coordinated to secure the kill on the left as well.
“Since we’re already here.” Tan Mo pulled the handbrake, parking precisely in position.
Sang Ye understood immediately, jumped out of the car, and rushed toward the buildings.
Tan Mo followed closely behind. The moment an enemy exposed themselves from a second-floor window, he snapped his aim up and fired two shots, forcing them back inside.
Commentator A exclaimed, “Whoa! That suppressive fire!”
Commentator B added, “No matter how many times I see Song trusting Tan God with his back, it still gets me. This is the kind of trust only esports teammates understand.”
The chat exploded in protest:
[“You don’t get it! This is lover’s trust!!!”]
Meanwhile, the elimination feed popped up in the top right—Sang Ye had already cleared two enemies inside the building.
WLG secured another wave of loot and continued on their way.
At the five-minute mark, the zone started shrinking.
As the chaotic gunfire from the southwest filled the air, WLG was still on the move.
Backstage, in the players’ lounge…
Yu Haotian stared at the mini-map feed displayed by the director, his eyes locked on the four icons representing WLG. “Where are they headed?” he asked.
The coach glanced at the screen and immediately understood. “They’re going for the most extreme position in the zone. Tan Mo is predicting a hard shift to the edge.”
Yu Haotian quickly followed up, “And is he right?”
“It depends on probability,” the coach replied. “But even if he’s wrong, that position allows them to avoid most of the teams’ rotation paths and play for placement points.”
“The zone is about to shrink!” Yu Haotian swallowed nervously, watching the countdown on the screen.
Three.
Two.
One.
The zone continued shrinking toward the upper right, centering on Holy Mountain, with its edge clipping K City.
“Beautiful!” Yu Haotian exclaimed excitedly.
The map showed that WLG had just arrived in K City. After an intense firefight, they eliminated the previous occupants and took control of the compound.
As the third zone shifted further upward, the safe area moved slightly above Holy Mountain, while K City, situated by the coast, remained right on the edge of the zone’s cut-off line.
At this point, several teams began eyeing K City, realizing that this might be an edge-shifted zone.
Commentator A: “Two teams are trying to rotate from the east—they still think they have a shot at taking K City.”
Commentator B: “Too late. WLG has already set up. These two teams missed their window. Now, just getting past the entrance is going to be a problem.”
Commentator A: “That’s why Talk has always been a fearless yet precise player. He made a decision about the zone almost immediately after the match began. WLG really lives up to its reputation as the macro-strategy kings of the PCL region.”
A full-scale fight erupted in K City. Smoke grenades of various colors were tossed chaotically, blanketing the area in thick fog.
WLG not only held their ground but also used the cover of the buildings to eliminate five opponents, securing a huge loot boost.
Although K City remained on the edge of the zone throughout, they survived all the way to the final circle.
In the last plank-circle shift, the town finally got cut out of the safe zone.
However, WLG was still fully intact, with every position covered and firepower ready to support each other.
With no surprises, they secured the chicken dinner.
There wasn’t much time for a break.
Tan Mo quickly pointed out a few key adjustments to his teammates as the stage lights gradually dimmed.
Everyone took their positions.
Just as Tan Mo was about to grab his headset, a warm hand suddenly pressed against the back of his own.
He lowered his gaze, concealing a smile behind his long lashes, and in response, gently squeezed the soft palm in return.
I’m fine. No need to worry.
Game 2 Begins.
The first zone appeared just outside P City. WLG wasn’t in a rush to rotate in, but they needed to gatekeep teams with overlapping paths—otherwise, they would be the ones getting countered.
Unexpectedly, their first fight was against BTF.
With only 30 seconds before the zone shrank, neither side wanted a prolonged standoff. Both teams instinctively decided to go all-in for a fast fight.
Tan Mo and Sang Ye positioned themselves at the staircase in the first-floor lobby, their ears catching the sound of footsteps just outside the door.
Sang Ye pressed himself against the wall.
Tan Mo tilted his head slightly and aimed down his sights.
The moment the door burst open, Tan Mo fired— his first shot disrupting the lead enemy’s movement. The second shot landed on the one right behind him.
The opponent reacted swiftly, stabilizing their aim and returning fire.
But before they could gain an advantage, Tan Mo unleashed two consecutive bursts, instantly knocking them down.
System Notification: [WLG-Talk eliminated BTF-Gal with Beryl M762.]
Sang Ye took a deep breath.
The sound of a bullet hitting its mark was different from a miss.
A missed shot left a hollow, fleeting sound as the bullet cut through empty air.
But when a bullet connected, the sound became solid and powerful—a distinct impact that many described as a “hard shot.”
Just now, every single one of Tan Mo’s bullets had that deep, sharp, and decisive echo.
Back when Sang Ye only watched through a screen, he had found those shots incredibly cool and impressive. Without realizing it, he started paying attention to the ID [Talk.]
But after meeting Tan Mo, playing alongside him, and witnessing how he always eliminated enemies with minimal bullets and pinpoint accuracy, Sang Ye began to understand why he had been drawn to him in the first place.
No matter the situation, Tan Mo’s mind remained sharp—calm, composed, and unwavering. That unshakable nature gave him an undeniable personal charm.
Sang Ye knew this wasn’t the time to get distracted. He quickly finished off the last enemy, looted their bullets and med kits, and then regrouped with his teammates to rotate along the edge of the zone.
Match Standings After This Round:
WLG closed the gap with TL, now trailing by just 3 points.
They were still 21 points behind first-place HK.
Game 3: WLG finally surpassed TL, climbing to second place.
Game 4:
WLG secured a Chicken Dinner!
But HK remained far ahead, still leading by 15 points.
With the final round approaching, the tension among PCL fans reached its peak. During the break, online discussions became heated.
Some believed the standings were set in stone—others thought anything was possible.
[“If HK scores zero this game, WLG still needs high kills + a Chicken Dinner. Three wins out of five? And back-to-back? Impossible. The probability alone says no.”]
[“Agreed. If they win this, it would be absurd. PCL should just try again next year. HK is still dominating.”]
[“Wasn’t last year’s global championship even tougher? Everyone bet on the European teams—did anyone take WLG seriously? But in the end, they fought their way through and took the title.”]
[“Stop overhyping. Luck doesn’t last forever.”]
[“No matter what, I still believe in Tan Shen’s words: “The battle isn’t over until it’s over.””]
[“This year, WLG has Song. Since the Summer Split, he’s been there every step of the way, helping WLG rise from their lowest point. When the team plays well, Song shines with insane performances. When they’re in a dire situation, he always delivers the strongest support. With such a powerful ‘wife fan’ on their side, what’s there to fear? Even if the team isn’t fully at ease, I feel reassured.”]
Final Game—Pre-Game Check
Through the live biometric feed, viewers could see:
Xiao Pai’s heart rate was unusually high.
Even Hu Fu, usually calm and composed, had a slightly elevated pulse.
Tan Mo? Still holding steady at 80-90 BPM.
His tone was relaxed as he asked, “It’s the last game—no matter how it goes, we’re done after this. What are we eating tonight?”
“Brother! Don’t talk about food right now!” Xiao Pai rubbed his freezing hands. “My stomach is cramping! I feel like I’m gonna puke!”
Tan Mo turned to ask, “Song, are you nervous?”
“No.” Sang Ye stared at the screen. “But I don’t feel like eating either.”
Tan Mo chuckled.
When adrenaline is surging, it’s hard to feel hungry.
The Game Begins
WLG faced two brutal zone shifts right away. The safe zone didn’t favor them at all, and as time went on, more and more teams crowded their path to the zone.
By this point, they were nearly surrounded—even if they wanted to rotate around, it was too late.
As the saying goes: the greater the expectations, the greater the disappointment. Fans watched in dismay as the safe zone kept shifting further away.
Commentator’ Reactions
Commentator A’s voice was tense. “Now we have four teams gathered in the open field. WLG is still trying to creep forward—it’s incredibly risky. If they go any farther, TL will hear them. Right now, everyone is locked in a standoff. If WLG makes a move, they could expose their backs to BTF.”
Commentator B sighed. “Yeah, there’s really nothing they can do. When you get a zone like this, it’s just bad luck. WLG has had nothing but disasters this game… What a shame.”
Inside the Game
Sang Ye felt surrounded by faint rustling noises from all directions.
He said, “I’m pushing TL. Pai, cover my back.”
Xiao Pai frowned, moving anxiously. “Go! Hu Fu and I can hold BTF off for a while.”
Sang Ye quickly reviewed all the information they had gathered so far.
He knew—this fight was everything.
HK was already safe inside the zone and guaranteed a strong placement. If WLG didn’t break through, their run at the global championship would end right here.
Sang Ye started by pulling the pin on a grenade, raising his aim slightly toward the hillside. He adjusted the trajectory left and right but hesitated to throw it when he heard no movement.
Once the first grenade exploded, both he and Tan Mo’s positions would be exposed. If his throw was off, WLG would gain nothing from it.
“Song.” Tan Mo suddenly spoke, his usually indifferent voice carrying a subtle hint of patience and reassurance. “I’m right behind you.”
Sang Ye held his breath.
At the same time, a faint rustling sound came from the left, just above him.
Without further hesitation, he pulled the pin and, relying on his instincts for distance, threw the grenade.
From the spectator’s god-view, TL was positioned in a slight depression between two slopes. Two of their players had just begun climbing to flank the other side of WLG when a grenade soared over them—smashing into the far slope.
Startled, the two TL players scattered, turning back to locate the grenade before it could detonate.
But at that moment—the grenade bounced off the reverse slope and landed right at their feet.
Boom!
Commentator A shouted: “Double kill with a single grenade!”
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Sang Ye only spared a glance at the kill feed, estimating the enemy’s situation. Wasting no time, he immediately switched to his gun, sprinted up the hill, and unleashed a fierce barrage on the first enemy in sight.
A second gunfire stream hit him, and his health plummeted.
Tan Mo was right behind him, landing three precise shots and finishing the enemy off.
“Get down.” Tan Mo ordered.
Sang Ye instantly dropped to the grass, feeling bullets whiz just above his head. He rolled aside, quickly using a med kit to restore his health.
At the moment the grenade had exploded, BTF had launched an aggressive attack.
Xiao Pai and Hu Fu took down one enemy together, but Xiao Pai got knocked by Gal, his HP deep in the red.
Tan Mo reacted swiftly, providing immediate cover.
As soon as Sang Ye’s health was restored, he stood up, threw a smoke grenade to shield Xiao Pai, and locked onto an enemy who had exposed his side while fighting Tan Mo.
He knocked him down—only then realizing it was Gal.
Meanwhile, BTF’s last player was picked off by a distant third-party team, too afraid to move in.
The chaotic gunfight on the plains finally ended—all within ten seconds.
Commentator A’s voice shot up excitedly: “Unbelievable! What a turnaround! WLG had no path forward, so they carved one out with sheer force! I almost forgot—Song’s combat ability is practically equivalent to an entire team!”
Commentator B, in awe: “This match is an instant classic. Everyone is performing at their peak. That opening grenade from Song was the key—if he hadn’t instantly eliminated two TL players, the outcome might have been completely different.”
Sang Ye went to revive Xiao Pai.
Xiao Pai, barely hanging on, gasped, “I nearly died. I swear, I almost didn’t make it…”
Sang Ye pulled him up and tossed a med kit at his feet, his voice indifferent: “Seven kills. 1.05 million in prize money.”
Xiao Pai sprang to his feet like a startled fish: “I’M BACK!”
Tan Mo, casually wrapping a bandage around his arm, glanced at Sang Ye. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at math?”
Sang Ye shrugged modestly. “Just average.”
It had taken him way too long to calculate that number.
Tan Mo smirked. “Then why couldn’t you solve for the extreme value of 2 – x – (2/3)^x?”
Sang Ye’s heart skipped a beat. “…”
Tan Mo pressed, “Are you pretending to be bad at math?”
Sang Ye’s pulse spiked. “You—Focus on the game! I’m telling the coach when we get back!”
Tan Mo chuckled softly.
Sang Ye’s ears burned red.
However, the fact that Tan Mo still had the mood to joke around meant he was in a great state, which allowed Sang Ye to breathe a sigh of relief.
Xiao Pai grumbled on the side, “Great. Now we have two cryptic speakers on the team. I have no idea what the hell they’re talking about…”
WLG had successfully survived the ordeal. They turned what was supposed to be a disadvantaged position into a stronghold, securing a large number of kills along the way. In short, it was a huge win.
From there, everything went smoothly as they advanced into the final circle.
The names of the last four remaining teams and their surviving players appeared at the top of the screen.
Norway’s solo survivor was quickly eliminated by HK within two seconds.
Now, it was down to three teams: WLG with a full squad, HK with a full squad, and Catch22 with three players.
Everyone was in good condition, but no one dared to make a move. A full-on fight would mean exposing themselves to attack, and no one wanted to be the first target.
As the final moment approached, the tension reached a breaking point—spectators in the arena, viewers in front of their screens, and even the staff in the backstage lounges all held their breath.
Yu Haotian clenched his hands so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his eyes locked on the screen.
Since two PCL-region teams had made it to the final circle, the live chat exploded with comments, the online audience getting heated.
[“What are you waiting for?! Where’s the teamwork?! WLG and Catch22 should be ganging up on HK! Aren’t you two supposed to be brother teams?!”]
[“It’s the final match! Catch22, I’m begging you, be human for once! If WLG wins this round, they’ll overtake HK in points! Otherwise, no matter who else wins, HK is taking the championship!”]
[“Come on, PCL teams! Stop hesitating! I’m losing my mind here! Catch22 isn’t seriously thinking about attacking WLG, are they?!”]
[“People telling WLG and Catch22 to team up—do you hear yourselves? If they actually do that, how would they be any different from that certain national team at the 2019 Invitational? You all flamed them back then, but now it’s fine just because it benefits your team? Hypocrites.”]
[“…”]
Just then, the dreaded “Plank Bridge” circle appeared.
Fate was still not on WLG’s side.
They were the only team outside the white zone, forcing them into an awkward position where they had no choice but to move.
The worst part?
To enter the safe zone, WLG had to pass directly under Catch22’s watch. Fighting from low ground to high ground at such a disadvantageous angle was practically a death sentence.
Commentator A let out a heavy sigh: “This zone has made the decision for all three teams. If a fight is going to break out, it has to start between Catch22 and WLG first.”
10 seconds left before the zone starts shrinking.
Sang Ye was the first to jump into the driver’s seat. “Three of us will rush in by car. Huf, stay back and cover us with your gun.”
It was almost certain they’d get shredded. There was a good chance none of them would survive. But right now, this was their only option.
Tan Mo said, “I’ll drive.”
Sang Ye hesitated.
The driver couldn’t fight back and would be completely exposed to Catch22’s gunfire. If the teammates in the car failed to suppress the enemy, the driver would be the first to go down.
But Tan Mo had to be the last one standing.
Sang Ye said, “You can’t—”
“I’ll do it.” Tan Mo insisted. “Xiao Pai, cover me.”
In that moment, Sang Ye understood. Tan Mo wanted to protect him until the very end.
If Sang Ye wasn’t driving, that meant he was the one they were trying to keep alive.
He stepped out of the car, but a wave of fear and pressure surged through him. Even his hands trembled slightly as he picked up the gear his teammates had dropped for him.
If he ended up being the last one standing…
Then all hope would rest on him—in a fight that looked completely unwinnable.
Everyone knew the odds were stacked against them. No one would blame him if he failed.
But still…
Finally, Sang Ye spoke. “Talk, I…”
Tan Mo started the engine, his voice calm and reassuring. “You are a miracle. That’s why I believe in you.”
Xiao Pai jumped into the passenger seat. “Bai Mao, I believe in you too.”
From the warehouse behind them, Hu Fu shouted, “98K fully loaded!”
Sang Ye clenched his jaw, pushed aside his doubts, and steeled himself. Then, he jumped into the back seat.
Up ahead, the three remaining Catch22 players were lying in ambush on the hillside.
One of them hesitated. “Captain, what do we do?”
“Take the shot.” Fool chambered a round with a crisp click. “Don’t miss a single bullet.”
One of the teammates hesitated. “Huh? But… they’re WLG.”
They were from the same region. They had eaten together, drank together—their relationship was more than just competitors.
Even if they were playing for national pride, it was hard not to feel the urge to help WLG just a little.
“If they’re going to win,” Fool heard the distant roar of an engine. He raised his gun and said, “Then they have to win clean.”
No one spoke after that.
A championship won through cheating wasn’t glory—it was disgrace.
And that stain would never be erased.
Xing Xing lay prone, aligning his eyes with his 8x scope. He sounded thrilled. “Then can I aim for Song’s head? He killed me in the summer tournament.”
Fool smiled. “Then you’d better give it your best shot.”
WLG entered the kill zone.
From the high ground, a relentless, merciless rain of gunfire opened up.
Xiao Pai ignored everything and leaned out the window. His hands were on fire—his very first shot cracked open a Catch22 player’s level-two helmet.
Huf, from a distant vantage point, fired a covering shot.
Xing Xing knocked Xiao Pai out of the car.
Tan Mo slammed the accelerator. Just as his health dropped to the brink of zero, he yanked the steering wheel for a hard drift.
Sang Ye seized the moment, jumped from the car, and tumbled onto the ground.
Tan Mo switched weapons and, through the car window, took down Xing Xing— only to be eliminated by Fool, who had been watching him the entire time.
Sang Ye knocked Fool down at the same time, but Hu Fu was also taken out by Fool’s shot.
Xing Xing let out a frustrated sigh. “Ugh! I didn’t even see him!”
Fool leaned back in his chair and smiled without a word.
After an intense team fight that had the crowd screaming, the two PCL teams went for a three-for-three trade, leaving only Sang Ye and Hu Fu, who was still crawling forward, inch by inch.
But Sang Ye had no time to breathe. With his gun raised, he sprinted straight toward HK.
HK launched their final assault.
Commentator A lost his mind, clutching his head as he shouted, “No way! No way! A 1v4 against these monsters?! Wu De is still alive! How is he supposed to win this?!”
Tan Mo and Xiao Pai, already eliminated, had switched to Sang Ye’s perspective, scanning for threats.
Tan Mo remained calm and steady. “Throw a flash to the left to buy time, then shoot.”
Xiao Pai’s voice went sharp. “Right side of the hill! Right side!”
Sang Ye threw a flashbang, then landed three solid shots on the right. He didn’t even have time to check the kill feed. His screen flared green as he dove under a car, clipping the leg of the flashed enemy before quickly standing back up, fingers tapping furiously on the mouse.
At last, Hu Fu, with his last sliver of health, crawled close enough to spot an approaching enemy. Desperate, he yelled out a final call. “Left flank! Incoming!”
Sang Ye dodged behind the hood of a car, tossed a grenade, and barely avoided a deadly line of fire.
Hu Fu was eliminated.
Now, the entire team’s perspective was locked onto Sang Ye.
Tan Mo: “Stay calm. You can still win this.”
Hu Fu: “Grenade softened one up!”
Xiao Pai: “Bai Mao, GO!”
Sang Ye wasn’t fighting alone. Every muscle in his arm tensed as he pulled off an insane flick shot.
Xiao Pai was practically hovering off his seat, eyes wide, brain completely shutting down. His breathing was uneven, his voice rising with every word: “GO GO GO GO GO!!! BAI MAO, CHARGE!!! GO—!! … F*!!!”**
Xiao Pai slammed the desk and jumped up.
On the screen, [Winner Winner] appeared in bold letters.
The entire venue exploded into deafening cheers.
Sang Ye opened his mouth—finally sucking in his first breath since he’d started fighting HK.
Only when a sudden wave of dizziness crashed over him did he realize—he had forgotten to breathe for the entire last 15 seconds of the final battle.
Backstage in the WLG lounge, the coach and manager shot to their feet at the exact same time.
These two men, whose combined age was nearly sixty, abandoned all composure and sprinted for the door.
Even in the hallway, the excited voices of foreign commentators boomed from the front stage.
—”Congratulations on WLG wins the top prize!”
Amidst the blur of English words, Sang Ye clearly heard one thing—
“WLG.”
He swallowed hard.
Then, his headset was removed, and a pair of strong arms lifted him off the ground.
On the screen, the commentator’s voice was filled with emotion: “The final victory belongs to Song, belongs to WLG! This eighteen-year-old has performed miracle after miracle, leaving the world in awe!”
Fang Yuerong sat in her living room, watching the massive projection screen as Tan Mo held Sang Ye in his arms. His head drooped slightly, his expression so calm that when he finally looked up, he seemed a little dazed.
Fang Yuerong clapped her hands excitedly, shouting over and over: “Puppy? Puppy! Puppy…!”
As if she could wake Sang Ye up by sheer force of will.
It took a long moment before his feet touched the ground again. He rubbed his face.
Surrounded by his teammates, he leaned forward, glancing at the big screen displaying the final rankings.
He understood.
His eyes blinked with a hint of a smile.
Then, Xiao Pai and Hu Fu grabbed him by the arms, one on each side.
When he faced the camera again, his smile was completely unrestrained.
Amidst the overwhelming flood of excited messages and cheers, one simple comment quietly scrolled past:
[“So good. He really looks so confident.”]
Huh?