Chapter 23 – You are just awesome!
The final round soon arrived, set on the desert-covered Miramar map.
In the first stage, the players dispersed, and no fights had broken out yet. AVG had scavenged a treasure trove of supplies in Tongcheng.
Just as Ji Wei and the others were about to breathe a sigh of relief, the second safe zone shrank—and something unexpected happened.
On the field, the four members of AVG crouched quietly on the high ground south of Tongcheng. Only twenty-three players remained alive.
Yin Sijue marked the map. “Enter the circle, take the second mark.”
The safe zone was near San Martin, and the entire city’s edge lay outside it. The main road to the north had become the focus of fire from multiple teams. AVG was surrounded on all sides, facing imminent danger.
But Yin Sijue was familiar with the terrain. He knew how to avoid enemy fire and position the team to enter the circle.
“I’ll throw a smoke bomb, take the right slope, and Da Shu and Mi Li will follow.”
The smoke bomb landed precisely between two rocks, opening a path for them.
Yin Sijue continued: “Wolf, take the left ridge and clear the team to the east. It should be MKBK. Don’t let them block our entry.”
Wolf didn’t respond, but his character icon began to move.
Commentator Mika: “This circle is very dangerous for AVG. Entering from this position, they’re likely to run into NS and MKBK, as well as UGC in Central San Martin.”
Yamy echoed: “That’s right. It’ll come down to their command and coordination to avoid danger.”
On the big screen, AVG slashed into the edge of the safe zone like a knife. Solve charged in first, picking off an opponent crouching against the wall, then counterattacked and eliminated another who tried to follow up. Mili coordinated with a grenade, successfully wiping out NS.
The audience erupted in applause, AVG fans waving their signs wildly.
Commentator Mika sighed: “Solve—still Solve. With that reaction speed, can anyone beat him in a 1v1?”
Yamy: “I think it’s hard to believe.”
In-game, Da Shu announced over voice chat: “We’ve got control here.”
“Wolf? Where are you?” Mi Li asked.
No response.
Yin Sijue, who had just finished using his first aid kit, frowned. “Wolf, why aren’t you on the left ridge?”
On the minimap, Wolf’s position deviated from Solve’s initial instructions. He hadn’t held the enemy or provided covering fire, but instead circled to a reverse slope.
Commentator Mika looked at AVG’s position, puzzled: “I don’t quite understand this play. Are AVG sending Wolf to seize a point?”
Yamy: “That’s odd. If he goes up the slope, the fire support from the other three AVG players will be cut off, and the main force will be exposed to enemy lines of sight and fire.”
The next moment, gunfire rang out—unexpectedly. Wolf opened fire, not to provide cover, but to target enemies in the opposite direction.
Yin Sijue’s eyes darkened. There was a UGC team ahead. If Wolf opened fire from that position, their entire squad would be exposed.
On the reverse slope, Wolf had just taken down one enemy when he was riddled with bullets and dropped to the ground.
“I’ve been hit… One down on West 125, we’re rescuing him now. Two more might be coming,” Wolf whispered into the mic, his voice tinged with resentment.
Yin Sijue’s face grew colder, his lips pressed tightly together as he stayed silent.
Dashu, barely holding back his frustration with the camera trained on him, gritted his teeth.
“If you want to shoot, tell us.”
Wolf snapped back: “How could I not shoot when his back was wide open? What’s the point of all that nonsense now? Just save him.”
Yin Sijue ignored Wolf’s plea and began issuing orders. “Calm down. We can’t retreat. Push with the poison, climb the wall.”
By the time he finished speaking, two AVG players were already down.
Mili and Dashu were pinned at the edge of the ambush, with no chance to recover.
From the caster’s desk, Mika spoke rapidly: “AVG had the chance to control the edge and push, but Wolf’s positioning was too aggressive. He exposed himself too early, giving MKBK and UGC the chance to lock down their positions!”
“UGC’s here. It depends on whether Solve can clutch this. Nice! He just took down Kelly!”
But it wasn’t enough. UGC’s strength lay in their coordination. The other three players spread wide, boxing Solve in from multiple angles. Amid a barrage of gunfire, AVG’s last man fell.
The screen turned black and white, and the camera zoomed in on Solve’s face. He removed his headphones silently, his eyelids lowered, a trace of gloom lingering between his brows.
On the leaderboard, the numbers refreshed row by row. AVG placed fifth overall, while Solve topped the chart for individual damage.
The commentator shook his head. “What a pity.”
In the audience, Ji Wei leaned back slightly, took off his cap that had been blocking his view, and stared intently at the replay.
On the screen, Solve’s 1v2 after entering the circle was clean and precise—his timing impeccable, his shots sharp. Even under pressure, he radiated the aura of an S-League player.
But then, the camera cut to Wolf. He was flanking up the rocky slope, pressing forward alone without proper information—killing one, exposing himself, and then getting countered.
The fans in the front rows debated heatedly.
“Solve made a bad call…”
“Wolf’s definitely leaving the team after this!”
“Come on, stop arguing. Wolf’s play wasn’t wrong. You can’t win finals without taking risks. They all gave it their best.”
Ji Wei listened quietly, shook his head, tapped the armrest of his chair, and murmured:
“He wasn’t looking for an opportunity. He knew the consequences of that shot.”
“You said he did it on purpose?” Ban, who had overheard, lowered his voice and leaned closer.
Ji Wei, for once, wasn’t as obedient as usual. He sneered but didn’t answer directly.
From a third-person perspective, Wolf seemed to be pressuring and creating space, but his timing was off. Even if he killed someone, his firepower wasn’t strong enough to finish the job. In the end, not only did he fail to cause chaos, he actually exposed AVG’s position, destroying their last chance to control the edge and enter the circle.
This guy’s thoughts were far too easy to read.
The PCL Pro League rewarded not only team victories but also individual performance and high elimination counts. Until now, the MVP title had almost always gone to Solve.
Ji Wei felt anger—but more than that, heartache. His mind was filled with the image of Yin Sijue being cornered and killed by several UGC players at the edge of the circle.
But there was nothing he could do.
He couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if it were him.
If only he could sit beside Yin Sijue…
…
The boy clenched his fists, loosening them only gradually as they left the venue.
Jerry didn’t call a driver. Instead, he messaged Xu Shaoqiu and ordered a private car to take them back.
After seeing the results of their debut match, everyone felt heavy-hearted. They skipped the restaurant they had planned to visit and returned to the base to practice at their computers instead.
Ji Wei spent the entire night queuing, but his results were unsatisfactory. When he was wiped out in his final game, he shut the client.
Playing any longer would only mean throwing away points.
“I’m going out for some fresh air.”
Worried his teammates hadn’t heard, he also sent the message in their group chat, then walked out through the base gates.
AVG Base, one of Hai City’s top villa complexes, boasted gardens and private courtyards, making the space surprisingly spacious. Ji Wei hadn’t explored much of it since moving in.
The plants were meticulously maintained, each one carefully trimmed and beautifully arranged. The fountain was shut off at night, and the quiet air lacked even the cicada chirping typical of the season.
But the size had its drawbacks. After wandering for a while, Ji Wei once again found himself lost inside the complex.
“Why do the grass and rockeries all look the same along the road? Don’t tell me I actually need navigation just to get home…”
The path ahead was lined with identical turns and shadowed bushes. After a few wrong turns, Ji Wei realized he had no idea where he was. Resigned, he pulled out his phone and opened the navigation app.
Click! A lighter flared in the darkness.
Someone smoking outside this late?
Startled, Ji Wei looked up.
But he saw no one—the darkness was unbroken.
The eeriness raised the hairs on his arms. He began muttering to himself, gathering courage.
“Such a nice neighborhood, and you don’t even turn on the lights.”
He had already imagined five hundred urban legends about cigarette-lighter creeps, but still couldn’t help following the sound.
“In a horror movie, I’d definitely be the first to die.”
Ji Wei wasn’t a talkative person in front of others, but when he was alone, he loved muttering to himself.
A faint movement stirred in the darkness—and someone chuckled.
Ji Wei:!
…
It shouldn’t have been a recognizable sound, but somehow he immediately knew who it was.
Leaves rustled against fabric, and someone stepped out of the bushes ahead.
Ji Wei froze for a moment.
The same person who had just silenced a roaring crowd with a single shot was now standing before him in this dim, confined space.
The weak glow caught on Yin Sijue’s sharp nose; half his face and eyes were still swallowed by shadow. Yet Ji Wei could feel his gaze burning through the dark.
“Lost again?” Yin Sijue asked, a half-smoked cigarette pinched between his fingers.
“Yeah…” Ji Wei nodded sheepishly, then hesitated before blurting out: “Solve, are you smoking?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
The moment the word left his lips, Ji Wei regretted it. He and Yin Sijue weren’t close enough for that kind of personal question—it felt over the line.
He rushed to cover himself: “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer.”
Yin Sijue lowered his head and smiled faintly, looking straight at Ji Wei.
“Are you asking why I smoke, or why I smoke here?”
Ji Wei was caught off guard. He hadn’t even realized the question could be answered two ways, and instantly forgot which why he’d meant.
“Uh, both.” He twisted his hands unconsciously, pinching at his fingertips.
“I don’t smoke often.” Yin Sijue’s eyes fell on Ji Wei’s hands. His eyesight was sharp—even in the dim light, he noticed the small mole at the base of Ji Wei’s right index finger.
He looked away, tilted his head, and continued: “You can probably guess why I’m smoking. Coach said you guys were coming to watch the game today.”
“I didn’t want to get caught by Brother Qiu. Not many people usually come here, and there’s a trash can for ash.”
He pointed to a trash can in the corner behind him, its lid sprinkled with pebbles to put out ash.
Yin Sijue walked over and stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette, leaving only a faint trace of tobacco in the air.
Slender fingers slowly crushed the cigarette butt. Ji Wei stared at them in a daze. These hands had executed countless brilliant plays—yet he hadn’t expected them to look so captivating even while holding a cigarette.
“Why don’t you keep smoking?”
Yin Sijue was silent for a moment. “Do you want me to?”
“Uh… not really.”
“Secondhand smoke isn’t good for minors.”
Ji Wei muttered quietly, “We’ll be adults by the end of the month.”
“You’re still kids. Let’s go back.”
Ji Wei followed him. It was just a casual exchange, yet his heart pounded uncontrollably.
The road ahead was still dark, but he no longer felt afraid. This secluded walk seemed to form a small world of its own. He only wished it would last longer.
Yin Sijue didn’t walk fast, but the atmosphere remained heavy with silence.
Ji Wei remembered why he’d come out in the first place—to shake off frustration—but now it surged back.
He quickened his steps, drew closer, and forced himself to meet Yin Sijue’s gaze.
“Did Wolf disobey your instructions in the last round today?”
Yin Sijue held his eyes for a moment before replying, not directly answering: “How do you know I didn’t tell him to go there?”
“Impossible,” Ji Wei said without hesitation.
Yin Sijue’s gaze lingered on him, waiting for Ji Wei to explain.
Ji Wei continued, “Let’s not even mention that Wolf’s abilities aren’t quite there yet. He’s only been with you guys for a short time, so you wouldn’t trust him that much. Besides, firing from that position was incredibly dangerous. If someone absolutely had to go out and seize the spot, you’d definitely go yourself.”
Yin Sijue’s expression grew complicated. He averted his gaze, neither confirming nor denying Ji Wei’s blunt questioning of his qualifications as a second-team starter.
Ji Wei glanced down at their overlapping shadows on the pavement and let out a quiet sigh.
Sijue was just like that—completely confident in himself, never relying on anyone else.
They didn’t speak again until they neared the base gate. Just as they were about to part, Yin Sijue suddenly said: “I won’t go by myself.”
Huh?
Ji Wei looked at him, confused.
“Maybe in the past. But now, I can’t guarantee I’d get out unscathed in that situation.”
Yin Sijue’s dark eyes carried a weight Ji Wei couldn’t decipher.
“Unique, I’m not as invincible as you think.”
He paused, then added, “Don’t tell Brother Qiu about the smoking. I’m leaving.”
With that, he gave a small wave and headed toward Team One’s base.
Ji Wei stood there for a long time, staring at the direction Yin Sijue had gone.
It was the first time Yin Sijue had called him that in three years. Professional players were often more sensitive to their in-game IDs than their real names—yet Ji Wei didn’t feel happy at all.
His eyes burned with a faint mist, but he forced it down. A blush tinged the corners of his eyes.
After a while, Ji Wei pulled out his phone, opened Yin Sijue’s chat window, and typed:
Weiwei Dounan: [You’re just awesome. More awesome than anyone I’ve ever met.]