Chapter 3 – Thanks, Bodyguard.
Inside Building C, Ji Wei also heard the commotion, but he had no time to confront the enemy. Instead, he stared blankly at a frying pan and a crowbar. Was I at the airport or a roadside restroom? What the heck was this?
As footsteps drew closer, he didn’t have time to think. He simply grabbed the frying pan and smacked away the enemy who had entered the room but hadn’t found a gun either. Then he quickly rolled into the next room where Yin Sijue was staying.
[unique] used a frying pan to knock down [Mysticknight]
Seeing the kill announcement, Yin Sijue raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t dead?
Perhaps the enemy hadn’t picked up a weapon.
But why was this streamer using a frying pan?
“You didn’t pick up a gun?”
“Yeah. Do you have one? Even a pistol would be fine…” Ji Wei rushed into Sijue’s room and went speechless when he saw the pistol in his hand.
“There’s only this one,” Yin Sijue said gravely. “There’s another team on this floor.”
“It’s probably because Building C didn’t spawn any good supplies. It’s okay,” Ji Wei said optimistically, trying to show off.
“I’m actually not bad at this. We can hold our own.”
As soon as he finished speaking, a burst of crisp gunfire rang out. Unlike the slow, single-shot sound of a pistol, the enemies in front of them were armed with full-auto rifles.
Ji Wei: …
“In the stairwell. They’re not a team,” Yin Sijue said, listening to the gunfire. “They’re armed with AKs. Go fight them on your own.”
Ji Wei: “No.”
The two of them hid in the room, listening for footsteps, waiting for the battle next door to end.
After a while of gunfire, two kill announcements popped up on the screen. At that moment, the sound of a first-aid kit being used came from the next room—
“Let’s go.”
The moment Yin Sijue spoke, Ji Wei rushed out, smacking the enemy twice on the head as they turned to face him.
[unique] used a frying pan to knock down [xxxjjjxxx].
[ysjduckduck123] used a P92 to knock down [Tommy Gun].
Two more!
Ji Wei immediately grabbed a UMP45 from a nearby box and reloaded. Yin Sijue, standing beside him, dodged left and right between reloads, managing to fire a few shots, but his remaining bullets were running low.
Behind him, Ji Wei immediately followed up, blasting the two enemies with his submachine gun.
[unique] used a UMP45 to knock down [SteelViper45].
[unique] used a UMP45 to killed [RogueWarrior88].
Ji Wei: “Team wiped.”
Yin Sijue glanced at the kill announcement with some surprise. His agility just now didn’t seem like something a rookie could pull off.
But once or twice doesn’t mean much—we’ll have to see.
“Not bad.”
Ji Wei: !
Hearing the other’s praise, the boy’s earlier embarrassment vanished completely, and he happily ran off to loot the box.
“You want a first-aid kit? There are also drinks and painkillers. How come this team had so much better loot than us…”
“I’ve got some.” Yin Sijue stood up from beside the box. “There are footsteps upstairs. Finish looting and get ready to move.”
Ji Wei swapped into a fresh set of gear, quickly tossing out a pile of useless junk.
“I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Yin Sijue focused, listening carefully. “The footsteps are gone.”
Ji Wei followed close behind him, nerves taut.
On the livestream, Yin Sijue had already switched the game to first-person view to avoid enemies ambushing around corners. The scrolling barrage of comments was minimized and tucked away in the corner of the screen.
The second floor was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Ji Wei mentally reviewed the usual hiding spots in Building C while also guarding against new enemies slipping in from the first floor.
Through his headset came the faintest sound of footsteps.
“End of the hallway, small room—someone’s crouching in there.” As soon as Yin Sijue spoke, he rushed in that direction.
Right before the door, he flicked his mouse, jumped, and sprayed the room with bullets.
[ysjduckduck123] used an AKM to kill [2187391].
The constant spinning of the camera had already left the viewers dizzy.
[“That sound-tracking was insane”]
[“The guy probably moved by accident… Solve still caught it”]
[“Amitabha, against Solve, even liu people is just a daydream”]
Ji Wei was also stunned by the play. After a few steps, he realized he hadn’t helped at all in that fight and felt a little embarrassed to go loot the box.
Yin Sijue spoke: “This guy has an M4. Want it?”
“I’m coming!”
[“So shameless…”]
[“Didn’t even help, still rushing to loot?”]
“What do you mean shameless?” Ji Wei shamelessly replied to the barrage, “I played a defensive role in the back. Right now, I’m Solve’s bodyguard.”
Right after he said that, a voice suddenly came through his headset:
“Then bodyguard, you go first. We’re heading downstairs to kill.”
???
Ji Wei snapped his head toward the game interface. “Wait—didn’t I turn off my in-game mic?!”
He’d only been mouthing off because Yin Sijue couldn’t hear him!
“The Great Da Shu is watching your stream.”
Ji Wei: …
Da Shu complained beside him, “Captain, are you rejecting my duo queue invitation just for him?”
Yin Sijue: “No, we just happened to be matched.”
Ji Wei: ?
What do you mean, just for him!
Unable to voice his grief and indignation, he simply jumped out the window and stormed toward the nearby building.
The circle was closing in at that moment, and the safe zone was in Zharki—practically a thousand miles away from the airport.
Ji Wei looked at the long road into the circle: “…”
On the other side, Yin Sijue recalled the miserable state he had landed in and the shrinking zone, leaving him speechless for a moment.
It had been a long time since he’d been this unlucky.
The last time was probably before he went pro…
Before he could dwell on the thought, a burst of gunfire erupted from ahead.
[FrostRogue] used a M416 to knocked down [ysjduckduck123].
“What’s going on?” Ji Wei almost cried out when he saw the announcement. Yin Sijue had fallen?
“Don’t come over. Show your head and you’ll die.” Yin Sijue stared toward the distant outline of the radar tower. Without explaining his lapse in focus, he frowned. “This guy’s too fast. Every shot is a headshot.”
He’s probably a cheater.
“No—we need to save you!” Ji Wei was frantic. He had finally queued up with Yin Sijue, and without him, what was the point of playing?
When Yin Sijue climbed onto the container and spotted the sniper peeking from the tower, his suspicion only deepened.
He warned his teammates, “He’s not finishing me—he’s baiting you.”
This game was already a point loss.
To rescue him, his teammates would have to cross a wide, exposed area. Against a cheater, they’d almost certainly be gunned down.
Just as Yin Sijue was about to give up on being saved and let the bleed-out timer run dry—
“Wait, I’m coming!”
The boy’s youthful yet determined voice rang out.
Yin Sijue raised an eyebrow in surprise. For some reason, he abandoned the thought of giving up and turned his eyes toward the battle.
Ji Wei threw two smoke grenades ahead and sprinted toward cover. He was hit several times at close range, but with his agility managed to dodge just as many bullets, finally sliding in beside Yin Sijue with only a sliver of health left.
[“This guy is definitely cheating”]
[“I’m shocked! First time I’ve seen a streamer this bold!”]
[“Didn’t you just run away last time you ran into a cheater?”]
After the rescue was complete, Ji Wei’s tense shoulders finally relaxed a little, and he began to heal.
Just as the first-aid kit was nearly finished, a man’s voice—tinged with laughter—reached his ears:
“Thanks, bodyguard.”
…
[“What are you laughing at? Can you two even get out of this container alive?”]
Ji Wei, who had been momentarily lost in Yin Sijue’s voice, snapped back to his senses.
“Ahem, not laughing. We can still make it out. Don’t worry.”
[“What? Isn’t it about time you get farmed by the cheater?”]
[“He’s got you locked down. You two are finished.”]
[“The streamer probably isn’t afraid of the lock—he’s afraid of the angle.”]
Once they’d settled into position, they realized the opponent had no intention of backing down—this was going to be a fight to the death.
Ji Wei asked, “How many smoke grenades do you have left?”
Yin Sijue raised an eyebrow. “Three. You planning to run? They’ll sweep this place sooner or later.”
Ji Wei: “Give them all to me. I’ll pay you back later.”
The character beside him quickly dropped all three smoke grenades.
But instead of throwing them toward his retreat, Ji Wei timed each one carefully, tossing them in the enemy’s direction.
[“??? What’s going on?”]
[“Wait—you’re not actually going to push the cheater, are you??”]
The man in the tower saw the smoke drifting closer and felt insulted.
How dare some bot try to challenge me?
He immediately turned from the top of the tower and jumped down the stairs, ready to face Ji Wei head-on.
But Ji Wei never emerged from the smoke.
The moment the enemy turned his back, Ji Wei broke out from the side under cover of the smoke, slipped into a small bungalow more than a hundred meters from the tower, and—with his scope—fired several sniper shots at the running enemy!
[unique] used a Mini14 marksman rifle to knocked down [ahjgdwliqugbb].
Seeing the kill announcement, Yin Sijue froze for a few seconds before getting up to check for any other teammates.
“Holy crap, this streamer’s cheating! His sniping is that accurate? And on a moving target?” Da Shu muttered beside him.
“It shouldn’t be that bad.” Yin Sijue raised an eyebrow.
Someone who knew how to cheat wouldn’t act so timid every day. Judging from his reaction just now, it was far more likely his own skill.
Interesting.
After taking the man down, Ji Wei finally let out a sigh of relief.
As expected, cheaters all had the same problem: they relied too much on their hacks, so their movements were stiff and predictable.
The livestream chat was now flooded with question marks.
[“Is this streamer for real??”]
[“Requesting a tutorial on cheating while live on camera”]
[“No way… are you secretly practicing behind your teammates’ backs?”]
The so-called “cheating brother” was also dumbfounded. After being killed by Ji Wei, he didn’t quit the game. Instead, he turned on all microphones and asked:
“Brother, how much do you charge per hour?”
“I’m not…” Ji Wei paused, suddenly feeling uneasy.
If even the viewers thought he was cheating… then had Yin Sijue misunderstood too?
Cheating in this game carried way more hate than just slacking off. What if Yin Sijue didn’t want to play with him anymore?
His wandering thoughts were cut short by a voice over the mic:
“There are people at the warehouse. Go kill them and steal their car.”
“Oh, okay.”
He followed without hesitation.
…
The whole night passed, and the two of them happily secured five chicken dinners before Yin Sijue finally logged off.
Seeing him leave, Ji Wei couldn’t help wanting to close the game too.
[“Are you really the type to rush headfirst at every enemy now? You’ve changed.”]
[“I hope I can be this strong next time I team up with my fans, okay? Okay.”]
[“Why’d you shut down the game? It’s not your damn end time yet, okay?”]
[“What? Did your soul just leave?”]
“Haha, you’re really overthinking it. I just like changing up my livestream style sometimes, so you don’t get bored.” Ji Wei broke into a cold sweat at the barrage of comments.
“I didn’t end the stream, I just switched servers. It was lagging a bit earlier.”
“Anyway, let’s get back to the usual. Which map do you want? Or Sanhok?”
The barrage went unanswered—then suddenly the screen exploded with:
[Aa… ysjduckduck sent a Rainbow Bridge x1 in UNIQUE’s livestream!]
The Rainbow Bridge was one of Maoyu TV’s most expensive gifts, announced across the entire platform.
Solve was using a smurf account—since AVG’s official platform was Aurora TV, he couldn’t open one on a rival site. To send this gift, he had quickly created a throwaway account on Maoyu right in front of everyone.
Ji Wei froze. Ignoring his skyrocketing popularity, he stared at the rainbow-colored special effects on screen, heart pounding.
Yin Sijue gave me a gift?
Did this mean he acknowledged his ability?
Ji Wei’s thoughts spun as he unconsciously bit his lower lip.
“Thank you, Yin Sijue, for the Rainbow Bridge,” he said just before the special effects faded.
A malicious comment immediately floated to the top of chat:
[“How long have you known Solve? Why are you calling him by his full name?”]
Ji Wei’s breath caught as he realized—he’d spoken his name, not his ID.
Professional players usually addressed each other by IDs. Only close friends used real names.
[“…? Wait, why are you blushing? We’re flaming you, not flirting with you!”]
…
After the stream ended, Ji Wei lay in bed, catching up on the Solve match highlights he hadn’t finished watching the night before.
A Weibo post suddenly popped up:
(Special Attention)
[@AVG_Solve retweeted:
[025 AVG PUBG Division Youth Training Recruitment Announcement]
[Love the battlefield and yearn to push yourself to the limit? Join us, conquer the thrilling arena, and achieve your esports dreams! AVG Club is now openly recruiting PUBG academy players nationwide to cultivate new talent for the PUBG team. If you possess exceptional gaming skill and a passion for competition, we look forward to having you join us!]
[Recruitment Requirements]
…
The announcement was accompanied by a video. AVG management had somehow managed to get each starting player to record a voiceover, then edited it all together—and once released, it instantly went viral.
Opening the video, the first person to catch your eye was a sunny-looking man.
“Hello everyone, I’m AVG Da Shu. Every step on the esports journey is both a challenge and a process of growth. If you share a passion for PUBG and look forward to fighting alongside us, we welcome you to sign up for our academy program!”
In the video, Da Shu glanced away from the camera every three words, clearly reading from the prompter—painfully overdone.
Ji Wei dragged the progress bar forward until he found the person he most wanted to see.
Yin Sijue looked freshly washed, clean and sharp, with a few damp strands of hair clinging to his forehead, giving him a restrained, ascetic sort of beauty.
His lines were fewer than anyone else’s, but his deep gaze into the camera seemed to pierce straight into the heart:
“I’ll be waiting for you at AVG.”
Ji Wei’s eyes trembled as he frantically took a string of screenshots, then gave a thumbs-up to the top comment.
[With a marketing team like this, AVG could sell anything. [Teacher Sa is breathing oxygen.jpg]]
After logging out of Weibo, Ji Wei returned backstage to continue watching Solve’s match replay.
The screen showed a game from last year’s PGC round-robin. In the second stage, AVG was left with only Solve. On his way into the circle, he was defeated by the Korean team SOP and trapped by four players on the vast plains.
In the video, Solve controlled his character, charging forward recklessly. The plains offered no cover, and though he dodged most of the incoming fire with agile maneuvers, shots from the side and rear eventually brought him down, ending his run in the semifinals.
The moment the screen faded to gray, Ji Wei caught a trace of desolation and resignation in the man’s eyes. The lights focused on AVG’s players dimmed as they were eliminated.
Ji Wei didn’t know how to describe his feelings at that moment. He only knew that Yin Sijue shouldn’t have looked like that. Someone like him deserved to be in the spotlight, basking in cheers.
That youth training recruitment announcement was like a thin thread tugging at his heart—barely perceptible, yet impossible to ignore.
If he had been standing behind that man, would the outcome have been different?
After a pause, the boy drew in a deep breath, opened Weibo, and found the youth training recruitment link.
Let him try again.
–
Three years ago, also in early summer, Ji Wei—still a high school student—had once submitted his résumé to AVG’s youth training program.
The difference was that back then he had been invited, and his résumé was handed directly to an internal staff member.
At the time, Ji Wei’s gaming ID wasn’t [Unique]; it was just the abbreviation [WEI]. During his break, he had begged his cousin to help him register a Steam account, thus beginning his no-return path into PUBG.
“Hello? WEI? Haha, that ID you picked is really hard to recognize.”
“Typing’s a hassle. Do you mind if I send a voice message? Or we could call. I’m the AVG staff member who DM’d you on the platform earlier. You can call me Xiao Xu.”
[WEI]: [Please send a voice message. I’m not very comfortable with phone calls.]
“Okay, got it.”
The staff member then recalled that this player was notorious for refusing to speak on mic—always with things left unsaid, always typing in-game instead.
“We’ve already discussed the details. I’ll need you to submit a résumé with your basic information and your parents’ contact info. I’ll send you a template. Just get it back to me by next Monday.”
[WEI]: [OK]
When Ji Wei opened the resume template, a line of red text appeared below the age column: [Minimum age: 15.]
Little Ji Wei, still a month shy of his 15th birthday, filled in “15” without hesitation.
Another message window flickered to life:
[AVG_XU]: [I’ll be on a business trip for the next two days, so I might not reply right away. If you’re unsure about how to fill out a section, you can ask your friend. He’s already finished his. [Happy]]
Ji Wei rubbed his nose, obediently clicked to group his contacts separately, and sent a message:
[WEI]: [Have you finished filling out your youth training resume yet?]
The other party quickly replied:
[SJUE]: [Yeah, is there anything you’re not sure how to fill out? You’ll need to confirm your registered residence with your parents, so make sure you don’t make any mistakes.]
With that, the other party had already sent over his completed form.
[SJUE]: [If you’re too lazy to write a self-introduction, you can just copy mine. There are still a few days left, so I’ll keep an eye on it for you.]
Ji Wei clicked on the form, and the first thing that caught his eye was a striking ID photo. The boy’s sharp features were etched across his still slightly youthful face. He stared into the camera with a cool, almost arrogant air, tinged with the pride of youth.
Ji Wei found himself staring at it for a long time without realizing.
Although he hadn’t seen many handsome men or beautiful women at his age, this photo completely matched his standard of “good-looking.”
In fact, it wasn’t just good-looking—it was exceptionally so. The best he had ever seen.
Calmly, he right-clicked and saved the image.
Looking down, below the photo were the basic personal details:
ID: SJUE
Age: 17
Name: Yin Sijue