Chapter 4 – Is It a Tiger or a Pig?
“First, consolidate the application forms and select a batch for me to review based on the criteria.”
In the AVG base manager’s office, Xu Shaoqiu greeted the staff while scrolling through Weibo.
The hashtag #AVG Youth Training Recruitment# had already climbed to the bottom of the trending searches in the entertainment section.
“Even the UGC manager is calling me a marketing genius. Is that really necessary? Haven’t there been videos like this before?”
Lao Ma: “The point isn’t the prank. Look at the top comments. They’re all asking how you managed to persuade Solve to get into the adult industry.”
“Did Yin Sijue just go out to get takeout?” Xu Shaoqiu glanced out from the balcony.
“He hasn’t come back yet. Hehe, actually, the original line I gave him was ‘Welcome everyone with esports dreams to join AVG!’ I didn’t dare ask him to say anything too flirty!”
The deputy manager was also curious: “Then why did you change it to this? Do you know the official account is now flooded with private messages from girlfriends applying for cleaning and cooking positions?”
Xu Shaoqiu walked back and sat down: “He changed it himself, can you believe it? This line would be normal if someone else said it, but why does it work so well when he says it? I guess I’ll need to train Yin Sijue more in this area in the future…”
“What area?”
Xu Shaoqiu nearly jumped out of his chair. He turned and saw Yin Sijue walking in with takeout.
“Do you have super hearing? You can hear me even when I’m whispering?”
The man ignored him, carrying the large bag straight past.
Da Shu: “Wow, that smells amazing! What did the captain order? Can you share some with me? Okay.”
Mi Li: “Didn’t the captain already ask you if you wanted a midnight snack, and you said no?”
Da Shu: “That was forty minutes ago! I even took a shit in between. Isn’t it normal to be hungry again?”
Lao Ma: “Shut up! Stop spouting nonsense when it’s time to eat!”
Yin Sijue unpacked the takeout and set it on the table. “We ordered a lot. Everyone—except Cheng Su—come eat.”
Da Shu: “…”
…
The aroma of salt-and-pepper seafood quickly filled the living room, and everyone dug in with gusto.
A staff member came down from the office carrying a laptop.
“Brother Qiu, I just received a youth training application. Take a look.”
Xu Shaoqiu picked up a mantis shrimp. “I’m eating. No rush.”
“This one’s a little special. I’m not sure if I should approve it.”
Xu Shaoqiu: “Who is it? Someone with connections?”
“Uh, that unique guy from Maoyu TV—the one who had a run-in with Solve.”
Everyone: “?”
“Huh?” Lao Ma was startled. “Why is he signing up? Are you sure he’s a pro player, not a base staff member or something…?”
Mi Li swallowed a mouthful of shrimp. “What’s he thinking? The pace of the game here is way faster than normal. There’s no way he can keep up on stage.”
The staff member scrolled down the registration information. “But his Korean server ranking is the highest in the auditions so far. His ideal position is… ganker.”
Lao Ma: “…”
Da Shu grinned. “Who would dare leave their back to a guy like Lao Liu?”
Xu Shaoqiu, holding a half-peeled shrimp, abandoned it and hurried over to look at the computer.
Staff: “His qualifications are perfectly within the requirements, but you know his playstyle. Should we let him pass the auditions?”
Xu Shaoqiu frowned. “No? He’s already doing well as an entertainment anchor—why would he want to play in a tournament?”
The staff scratched their head. “Maybe he’s harboring an esports dream. He introduced himself as a brave and passionate esports player.”
At those words, Yin Sijue raised an eyebrow ever so slightly.
Xu Shaoqiu: “?”
Seriously? Does he think I’ve never watched his streams? What ‘passionate young man’ spends every day crawling through bushes with six teammates?
Is he crazy, or am I?
Da Shu burst out laughing. “Hahahaha, come on, it’ll be fun. Brother Qiu, let him try it.”
Xu Shaoqiu snapped, “Do you think tryouts are a joke? You’re inviting people over just to play around—and paying them?”
Da Shu: “…Shutting up.”
A staff member quickly cut in. “Then, Brother Qiu, about this registration…”
Xu Shaoqiu glanced at the player’s ranking—significantly higher than the other applicants. He closed his eyes, pressed his hand to his forehead, and after a long silence finally made his decision.
“Set up a tryout. I want to see if he’s the real deal.”
…
After everyone finished the midnight snack Yin Sijue had brought back, they returned to their cameras to continue training.
Da Shu opened Maoyu TV, typed “unique” into the search bar, and clicked on Wei Ta Ming’s livestream.
Lao Ma glanced over his shoulder. “What are you doing? Going to protest?”
“How could that be!” Da Shu turned and grinned. “I just want to see how he managed to get such a high score.”
On the livestream, the boy’s pale face almost glowed against the screen’s light. He was controlling his character, crouching in a side room on the first floor of the villa.
“Just put a medical kit here, close the door, and squat to the right. If someone comes in, they won’t see us the first time they open the door.”
Soon, footsteps echoed outside.
[The Big Enemy Has Arrived]
Glass shattered. The enemy didn’t check the small room on the first floor but headed straight upstairs.
Ji Wei rotated the camera. “He might not search here. It’s fine—if he doesn’t come, we won’t go up.”
A moment later, steady footsteps sounded again. The enemy was coming back down, probably because there was nothing valuable on the second floor.
As the steps drew nearer, Dashu’s heart tightened.
“Here they come.” The boy’s eyes sharpened instantly, ready to strike.
The door swung open. The enemy stood right beside him.
The intruder immediately spotted the medical kit in the middle of the room and rushed over to grab it.
Ji Wei, crouched behind him, quickly raised his gun and fired two clean shots to the head.
[unique] used his S12K shotgun to eliminate [xxm].
[8 eliminations]
Da Shu was stunned. “Holy crap…”
Lao Ma: “That’s brutal. He probably didn’t even realize anyone else had died.”
Da Shu: “If he can rack up eight eliminations, then what’s the point of me grinding agility every day?”
Lao Ma: “Guess you just love grinding.”
The live comments exploded, filling the screen with endless strings of hahahahahahahahaha…
[“These eight people won’t be able to sleep tonight”]
[“This is why I still don’t dare to play solo queue”]
[“This is infuriating”]
[“Can players like this even be reported?”]
[“Report what? They’re not cheating or griefing. Just mind your own business.”]
As the circle shrank, the streamer found another house and repeated the same hiding tactic.
But it didn’t always work. Against sharp-eyed, high-level players, Ji Wei had no choice but to fight—
and, amazingly, he always won.
“This is so much fun.”
Da Shu was so absorbed in watching that he didn’t notice Yin Sijue, freshly done brushing his teeth, standing silently behind his chair.
“Lao Ma, how about we try this next time we play?”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Holy crap!” Da Shu nearly jumped out of his seat. “Brother, when did you get here?”
“While you were bragging about studying your body movements every day.”
Yin Sijue gave him a sidelong glance. “If people didn’t know better, they’d think you were incredibly hardworking.”
“Hey, I was just kidding.”
“But from what I’ve seen, I don’t think he’s as bad as everyone says. He’s played quite well a few times. It’s probably not just luck.”
Lao Ma’s tone shifted slightly. After so many years of playing professionally, he could tell if someone was strong enough to stand against him.
“He’s definitely not weak—especially that match with the captain. His level is well above average.”
Da Shu suddenly lit up. “What if he’s a real master just pretending to be dumb, huh? What do you think?”
Before Yin Sijue could reply, the guy in the livestream suddenly clasped his hands together and began speaking:
“Okay, that’s all for today’s Go-Go round. Now, the streamer is back with another tutorial.”
He exited the PUBG results page and entered the matchmaking hall, grinning broadly:
“I’m going to share with you how to pretend to be an expert in PUBG.”
Da Shu in front of the screen: “…”
…
Ji Wei rubbed his hands together, eager to share his “valuable” experience.
“First, let’s go to the settings screen and change our character to Black—skin color as dark as possible. Then we go topless.”
[“Will the feel be different? Take notes.”]
[“No clothes probably means nothing blocks your vision.”]
[“Already changed. If I don’t play War God tomorrow, I’ll come find the streamer.”]
[“How does this even work? It doesn’t make any sense.”]
The boy set up his avatar, returned to the lobby with a sly look in his eyes, and queued up again.
“AVG’s four lancers, all with dark skins. Don’t you see the importance of this image?”
Comments: ?
The three AVG starters watching the livestream: ?
After a long silence, Da Shu spoke up: “…Why did we all choose dark skins?”
Lao Ma: “Seems like the captain picked it first, and we just followed.”
The two of them turned to glance at the man beside them.
Yin Sijue: “…I forgot.”
All three showed indescribable expressions, but they kept watching the stream.
Ji Wei queued into a four-player squad. The system automatically matched him with three random teammates, and they landed in City M.
“Grab a gun when you land,” he instructed, demonstrating. “But you can’t run normally. You have to slide while punching at the same time.”
On-screen, the characters zipped around at strange, high speeds.
“After picking up a gun, keep switching between single-shot and full-auto. Don’t forget to turn off auto-reload in the settings. Then, mash the left mouse button while reloading. That creates the sound effect of a true master.”
Ji Wei demonstrated. His character reloaded with a loud “clicking” noise.
[“Why???”]
“Don’t ask, just learn.”
Da Shu was speechless: “…”
Lao Ma’s expression was just as indescribable.
When pro players game, they subconsciously tap the fire button while reloading or after firing an empty round to maintain their grip. Over time, this habit becomes so ingrained they don’t even notice it anymore.
As for turning off auto-reload, that’s so they can immediately switch guns and keep fighting the moment they run out of ammunition.
But just because pro players understand this doesn’t mean the viewers of unique’s livestream will.
This server is full of both “old six” players and casuals who only watch streams but rarely play games themselves.
[“Damn, I watched AVG’s Mi Li livestream last time, and he really did this.”]
[“Da Shu seems to do the same thing.”]
[“I tried it, and now I feel amazing.”]
[“Can you delete the livestream replay later?”]
“During the game, whether or not you run into enemies, keep switching between first-person and third-person. If you’ve got questions, just check Solve’s stream replay from yesterday.”
Yin Sijue: .
Bang, bang—
Gunfire erupted nearby. The streamer’s teammates were locked in a firefight.
“Here’s the key!” The boy’s eyes lit up. “If your teammates are exchanging fire, don’t open the mic to ask where they are.”
“Whether you see the enemies or not, just aim somewhere—preferably toward the gunfire—and fire a burst.”
Bang, bang, bang! All thirty bullets slammed into a wall.
“Don’t worry about hitting them. Just make sure to turn on your mic.”
On-screen, the boy pressed T to activate voice chat and calmly told his teammates:
“One shot to the head—deadly.”
[“? Hahahahaha”]
[“I’m actually dying of laughter at this stream.”]
He turned off the team mic and continued: “When you’re shooting, use a high-powered scope. It’s fine if you fire into the sky. Just remember to squat when using meds.”
[“Wait, putting a 4x scope on an AKM? Are you kidding?”]
[“What are you aiming at, birds?”]
After a frenzy of aggressive play, his teammates left—only to see the settlement screen showing his total damage: 0.
“Yes, that’s another key point,” Ji Wei told his viewers.
“After the fight, be sure to leave the game a little later. Wait a few minutes in-match so your teammates can’t see how little damage you dealt.”
Da Shu was dumbfounded.
[“Oh my god, this is some serious stuff!”]
[“That’s so cool! Thanks, teacher! I’ll learn it quickly!”]
[“The culture of PUBG is being ruined by people like you!”]
[“A 6,000-hour veteran commented silently: This is really hard to judge.”]
When the game ended, Ji Wei waited a few minutes before leaving. Back in the lobby, he found a four-person team invite from his previous teammates.
He declined, choosing to protect his reputation.
“That’s the end of today’s livestream. See you tomorrow night. Bye!”
Da Shu silently watched the stream fade to black, then turned to his teammates.
“What do I do? I’m starting to feel unsure again.”
“I think he’s pretending to be weak just to strike back later—playing the tiger to eat the pig.”