Chapter 2 – Are you duo-queuing with Unique?
AVG base, training room.
Rainy afternoons always make people lazy. AVG’s starting member, Da Shu, a young boy who couldn’t get enough sleep even after ten hours a day, had just finished making a cup of instant coffee in the tea room and was about to return to training.
Passing by the captain’s camera, he subconsciously glanced at him.
“What’s wrong, brother? You look down.”
The man in front of the computer propped his head up with one hand. His nose was high, his lips thin. His clear eyes reflected the screen’s glow, exuding an icy chill.
“I met a jerk—and he even got me.”
“Huh? Who’s that?”
Yin Sijue clicked on the battle results list and saw the name.
“Wow! That’s Unique?! You ran into him?”
The man glanced at his teammate, sensing his surprise was genuine.
“You know him?”
“Of course! He’s the top PUBG streamer on Maoyu TV,” Da Shu said, sipping his coffee. “But he’s always played super defensively. All his points come from camping. His actual skills must be awful.”
Yin Sijue nodded in agreement. Thinking of the boy’s nervous, trembling voice, he added:
“Not only are his skills poor—he’s probably also pretty timid.”
…
Bang!
A door slammed in the hallway. AVG’s team manager, Xu Shaoqiu, stormed in and dropped a pile of documents on the table.
“Kelly walked out on us,” he declared angrily.
“Huh?” Mi Li, AVG’s aggressive offensive player with a quick temper, shot back. “Didn’t we agree on a one-season contract during the tryout? Did you go back on your word?”
Kelly had been a hot prospect in this year’s transfer window. Debuting just last year, he had already won several regular-season MVP awards, averaging at least five kills per game. Fans nicknamed him Steel Cannon Little K.
“UGC’s offer is higher. From what I’ve heard, it’s double what we put on the table. Besides, he’s the Spring Split champion. If I were Kelly, I’d choose UGC too.”
“Did UGC win the lottery? How can he be worth that much?”
“There’s nothing we can do. Everyone’s short on talent right now. All the teams are struggling with a generational gap,” Xu Shaoqiu said, rubbing his brow as he sat on the sofa. “We’ll just have to find another candidate.”
“The Summer Split isn’t far off. What are we supposed to do?”
“It’s fine. The team will figure something out. Just train hard.”
After resting a moment on the sofa, Xu Shaoqiu got up, ready to head upstairs for a meeting with the coaching staff. On the way, he passed by Da Shu’s camera station, he noticed a live broadcast of Weitaming on the screen.
On the screen, Ji Wei was staring blankly at [ysjduckduck123]’s profile, his expression strikingly similar to the Psyduck in the profile picture.
“Why are you watching Unique’s stream?”
“Brother Qiu, do you know Unique too? The captain had a fight with him, so I was watching for a bit. He just finished playing with the captain and hasn’t started the next game yet, so I don’t know what he’s doing.”
Da Shu leaned closer to the livestream for a moment, then suddenly shouted:
“Oh my god, Captain, isn’t that your smurf? Why’s he watching for so long? Is he trying to stream-snipe you?”
Yin Sijue skillfully controlled his character to finish off a squad. He glanced casually at the livestream and scoffed.
“Whatever. Let him wait.”
…
“That’s all for today’s livestream. I’m signing off. Bye.”
After bidding farewell to his viewers, Ji Wei typed Solve Match Highlights into the video platform’s search bar and began watching them one by one.
When he saw Yin Sijue’s spectacular one-versus-four performance at the PUBG Global Championship two years ago, Ji Wei’s heart pounded. His mind, along with the barrage of fan screams, buzzed with excitement.
The match had reached its final stage: all three AVG members had been killed by the team guarding the bridge. Solve was left alone, with only 30 rounds left in his AKM and an M24 sniper rifle, facing SOP—the in-form Korean team. The two commentators, their voices heavy with despair, had already begun consoling the audience.
In the game, Yin Sijue calmly crouched behind a container, calculated his position, and lobbed three grenades forward.
The first grenade knocked down just one player. The opponents quickly pinpointed Solve’s location and rushed forward to engage. Hearing footsteps, Yin Sijue immediately fell back. Then the second and third grenades exploded—another SOP player dropped to the ground.
He had thrown the grenades right into the path of the SOP members charging at him!
The remaining two players were already weakened. Yin Sijue turned to face them. Instead of pulling out his rifle, he raised the M24. While strafing back and forth, he landed two clean headshots, wiping out SOP and securing the win.
At that final moment, the entire crowd—whether AVG fans or not—erupted in thunderous cheers. A cloud of golden ribbons descended on the champion’s shoulders. Solve, dazzling under the world’s spotlight, shone with boundless brilliance.
After this match, Yin Sijue earned the nickname Solve the Gunner. Fans joked that those two bullets had pierced straight into their hearts, leaving them gasping in despair.
Ji Wei watched until the end, then scrolled back and replayed the instant where Yin Sijue landed the final sniper shots.
The two commentators, already screaming at the top of their lungs, shouted in the replay:
“I never thought Solve would deliver such a performance in this desperate situation!”
“In a moment like this, only absolute confidence would make him pull out the M24!”
…
It wasn’t exceptional.
Ji Wei rubbed his fingers over the game character on screen, his heart tightening at the flood of praise Solve had received.
So he’s already this good.
The boy lowered his head and wiped his face, then opened WeChat to search for something else. His eyes landed on the Psyduck avatar on his account—the same one Solve had teased the audience with during the livestream.
He stared at it for a long time, his eyes slowly reddening.
…
The weather this year was strange. It was only early June, yet the heat in Haicheng was already unbearable.
Da Shu, sprawled across a table like a dying dog, stuck out his tongue and complained:
“Lao Ma, you okay? I’m dying here.”
“Hey, just use the small fan. The doctor said I can’t catch a cold while applying this medicine. We’ll turn on the AC later.”
Lao Ma—known in-game as Hippo—was the oldest active player on AVG, serving as the team’s sniper and gunner. Years of competition had left him with lingering injuries in his hands and back. He had planned to retire honorably last year, but because the team couldn’t find a suitable replacement, he was forced to stay another season. Now, with new injuries piling onto the old, his body was struggling to keep up.
“Alright, alright!” Da Shu groaned as he got up, grabbed two Green Tongue popsicles from the freezer, and slowly sucked on one in front of the fan.
“Why hasn’t the captain come down yet?”
“Probably still asleep. He’s the only one here who insists on taking naps. Doesn’t act like an esports kid at all.”
Just then, the sound of clapping came from upstairs. Brother Qiu’s voice carried down from the second floor:
“Meeting upstairs! Lao Ma, put on some clothes. The AC’s already on in the conference room.”
The group trudged upstairs, where they found Yin Sijue already seated beside Mi Li.
“What’s up, Brother Qiu? Lao Ma hasn’t finished his medicine yet,” Da Shu said, clutching his drooping popsicle in both hands.
“The PCL Summer Tournament is coming soon. We need to finalize new players quickly.”
Mi Li turned to the coach. “Kelly’s really not coming?”
“No. He rejected me this morning—said he looked forward to meeting me at the tournament.”
“Wow, what a shameless guy! Cancels on us and then throws in a sarcastic jab?” Da Shu exploded.
“UGC’s weakness in offense has already been patched up now…”
Mi Li muttered with a sigh, “Whatever. I never thought he was that good anyway.”
Brother Qiu frowned. “Alright. The decision is to let Wolf, the second team’s captain, take over for now. At the same time, we’ll expand the youth training squad and see if any promising players come up.”
He sighed again. “I know Wolf’s rhythm doesn’t quite match yours, but we don’t have a choice at the moment.”
“Brother Qiu, you make it sound like we’re doomed.”
“Get lost! The only doom here is your popsicle dripping all over the conference room!”
After the laughter subsided, Xu Shaoqiu’s tone turned serious.
“The publicity department has already posted the recruitment notice. Tonight, you two need to record a pre-release video together.”
“Also, the trainees and the second team will be living in the building next to ours. Sometimes we’ll train and eat together. So stop wandering around smoking and swearing—you’ll be a bad influence on the kids.”
“Come on! We’re just recruiting young trainees. What is this, a nursery? My profanity hasn’t offended anyone.”
“Are you arguing with me again?!”
“You said it yourself!!!”
Xu Shaoqiu took a deep breath. “Wolf will be moving in a few days. Let’s go out for dinner tonight. You can get back to practice now.”
…
The group returned to the training room.
“Captain, want to duo queue?” Da Shu asked.
Yin Sijue had been roused by the noisy meeting, but the moment he sat down, drowsiness crept back in.
“You go first. I’ll fish around on my smurf account.”
The moment he logged in, a flood of friend requests filled the platform.
It seemed word of yesterday’s clash with the streamer had gotten out.
He glanced over the list, ready to clear it, when he spotted a request from someone named [unique].
Yin Sijue raised an eyebrow—it seemed to be the same streamer he’d faced yesterday.
Thinking back to the boy’s timid in-game voice, he clicked his mouse and rejected all the requests.
…
“Hello everyone! Today’s another happy day of surviving.”
Ji Wei had spent the entire night binging Solve’s gameplay highlights. Even so, faint bruises lingered under his eyes when he went live.
To spice up the stream, he tried a challenge run—surviving without weapons—and somehow pulled out a win using nothing but dozens of potions.
“Don’t try this yourself,” Ji Wei warned his viewers after the match. “This is just my alt—it’s only Platinum. I can’t match into top players here. In high-ranked games, you’ll just die without a gun.”
[“So exciting. By the time three of us were left, I forgot to breathe.”]
[“Watch the replay after that second-place clutch: 6”]
“Do you guys want to see more of this?” Ji Wei asked, queueing up another round. “There’s really no skill to surviving in this tier. Otherwise, next time—”
Ding-dong! A notification chimed from his phone:
[AVG-SOLVE, the streamer you follow, is live~]
Yesterday, he’d followed all of Yin Sijue’s accounts and even switched his phone—usually on silent—over to vibrate with notifications, just so he’d catch updates the moment they dropped.
Seeing the alert, he clicked into the stream and, with the same speed he’d shown sliding into the circle, slipped on his Bluetooth headphones.
[“What do you mean? Do you think I’m blind?”]
[“Putting on headphones the second your phone rings? You’re not talking to your partner, are you?”]
[“Not wearing gaming headphones anymore? Think you’re too good for Platinum?”]
“Nonsense! I’m not dating!” Ji Wei quickly denied the rumor, then hurriedly covered it with a lie. “I… I was just listening to a song and took them off after parachuting.”
…
“I logged off after two games on my alt,” a man’s deep voice came through the headset. “I’m just streaming to kill some time.”
Perhaps because he was only wearing one earbud, Yin Sijue’s voice felt like a whisper directly in Ji Wei’s ear, making him extra sensitive. His head tilted unconsciously toward the sound.
“Let’s play the island map now,” he heard Yin Sijue say.
The next moment, millions of viewers watched Ji Wei instantly quit his match, switch accounts, climb back to Ace rank, and select the island map to start a new game.
[“?? Weren’t you going to do another no-loot run?”]
[“Not playing Sanhok anymore? Isn’t the Rainforest the best place to hide?”]
Ji Wei ignored the barrage of comments, focused only on syncing his queue with Yin Sijue’s.
In the first attempt, there was no crash, but Ji Wei played distractedly, his face full of suppressed frustration. Before long, his screen went gray.
Even after being knocked out, he didn’t log off—instead, he spectated his teammates while waiting for Yin Sijue’s match to end.
Chat grew convinced the mysterious message was from his girlfriend, spamming the screen relentlessly.
[“He’s been distracted this whole time. Why not just quit and go keep your girlfriend company?”]
[“What’s the point of watching your teammate’s potato gameplay?”]
“I really don’t have a girlfriend… Fine, fine, I’ll stop watching. Let’s play another round.”
As soon as he saw Yin Sijue had finished his game, Ji Wei rushed into another match.
But three times in a row, he failed to queue into the same lobby—not even as an opponent.
Is there some kind of stream delay?
Frustrated, Ji Wei slammed [Start Game] a few seconds earlier for the fourth attempt.
As the game loaded, his eyes shot to the top left corner—teammate number one was [ysjduckduck123].
Ahhhhh—
He’d met him! Against all odds, he’d actually queued in with him!!
Ji Wei quickly closed Yin Sijue’s stream to avoid distraction, straightened up, and even smoothed his messy bangs for the camera.
He looked as if he were about to sit an online job interview.
[“Am I seeing this right? Teammate number one is Solve??”]
[“Another crash incoming??”]
[“?! Dual-queuing here—I just realized the streamer was actually trying to snipe Solve??”]
Ji Wei ignored the barrage of comments, struggling to control the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He turned on the microphone and asked, “Where are we dropping?”
On the other side, Yin Sijue heard a voice that sounded oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
Glancing at the comments, he noticed chat was already buzzing—it looked like the same Lao Liu he’d run into yesterday.
[“This streamer’s sniping you! Been stalking you forever.”]
[“Isn’t this the one who admitted a crush on Solve on Weibo yesterday?”]
[“My husband is so handsome~”]
“Airport,” Yin Sijue said, marking a yellow dot on the map without hesitation. He added casually, “There’s not much cover there. Think you can handle it?”
“…,” Ji Wei choked at the sarcasm in his tone. “Of course.”
When they hit minimum distance, both pressed the jump button at the same time. A sea of players poured through the sky like dumplings, all headed straight for the airport.
Viewers in Unique’s stream chomped on sunflower seeds and spammed chat:
[“Been watching this stream forever—first time seeing this happen.”]
[“Didn’t you used to float away whenever enemies showed up?”]
[“The other two teammates didn’t jump… it’s just you two now.”]
[“What?? You actually dare drop Building C?!?!?”]
Ji Wei and Yin Sijue landed together in Building C, where a crowd of players had already gathered. The moment they touched down, the sound of footsteps and gunfire surrounded them.
Yin Sijue only managed to find a pistol in the room, but he quickly took out the two players who had just landed. Then he heard the sound of a parachute closing nearby.
Checking the map, he realized the streamer was right next to him.
That Lao Liu was probably doomed.