Chapter 6 – Do You Have a Favorite Player?
The few people in the viewing room remained silent, merely flipping through the data panels to confirm.
“…Did we get the wrong feed?”
“Are you sure these are his stats?”
“Eleven kills… and we only called in a few sparring partners?”
Da Shu muttered, almost soul-searching, “Did he use a script?”
The team analyst leaned over Ji Wei’s computer. “Probably not. All the equipment is ours.”
“…”
In the training room, Ji Wei—usually gentle and submissive during livestreams—now carried a sharp, predatory edge in his almond-shaped eyes. With a slight frown, he unleashed a killing spree on Port G with an AKM.
Ten minutes into the match, all his teammates were dead. It wasn’t that he felt no pressure—he simply didn’t dare let his guard down.
[xiaohao0] used an AKM assault rifle to knock down [AVG_Jerry].
Da Shu blurted out, “Holy crap! Jerry’s so far away—how did he hit him with a machine gun?”
The others in the room were equally stunned, checking and re-checking every time [xiaohao0]’s kill notification appeared on the panel.
Jerry, already downed and sitting across from Ji Wei, fought the urge to crane his neck and peek at Ji Wei’s screen.
Xu Shaoqiu frowned. “He still wants to finish him off? He’s almost out of ammo. Someone else has to be holding him back.”
Ji Wei rushed forward, lobbing grenades. Each one exploded near Jerry, but the blasts caused only minor damage—more provocation than execution.
Jerry’s teammates, furious at the taunts, saw that the attacker was a lone wolf. Enraged, they decided to concentrate their fire on him first.
When two of them rushed out from behind a container, Dashu realized they had taken the bait.
Xu Shaoqiu scowled. “Their position is easy to defend but hard to attack. It’s too risky to charge out like that.”
Da Shu clicked his tongue. “So Ji Wei wasn’t throwing those grenades to kill them…”
Xu Shaoqiu: “He was trying to wipe them all out.”
The moment Ji Wei’s character spotted the two charging forward, he instantly dodged back behind cover and switched to a sniper rifle.
[xiaohao0] used a Mini14 marksman rifle to knock down [AVG_Dragon].
[xiaohao0] used a Mini14 marksman rifle to kill [AVG_Ban].
Xu Shaoqiu stared, wide-eyed. “Is his sniper really that strong?”
Da Shu shrugged. “Looks like it. The other day, when I played against that cheater with the captain, he also used a sniper. Everyone in chat just said it was luck.”
Xu Shaoqiu muttered, “Then why does he act so timid on his livestreams?”
Da Shu: “I don’t know. Maybe to build a persona?”
…
Lin Tao, who was still in the training room match with Ji Wei, also wondered what exactly this guy was playing at.
Lin Tao had just landed and grabbed a crowbar when he noticed his new roommate’s kill notification pop up on the kill feed. At first, he thought it was just a coincidence.
But when the same message kept appearing again and again, he realized his initial impression of this person might have been very wrong.
After being sniped by Jerry, Lin Tao quietly switched to spectate Ji Wei’s perspective.
They were all experts, so it didn’t take long for him to see that his new roommate was the strongest among the tryout participants.
Even after Unique finally won the game, Lin Tao was still in shock. He pulled Ji Wei aside and bombarded him with questions:
“Are you Unique? The real Unique from Maoyu TV? Did someone possess you?”
“Or maybe a twin brother? A prince-for-cat swap!”
What the hell was going on? Ji Wei was speechless. “My parents only had me.”
Xuan Feng flushed, remembering his earlier comment about letting someone else survive first, and awkwardly asked: “Brother, since you’re this good at fighting… all of that was just a livestream act, right?”
Ji Wei didn’t answer, only looking away.
Taking his silence as agreement, the others went back to reviewing the match.
Footsteps sounded behind them, and the assistant coach caught up, phone in hand.
“Is Unique here? You’re trending on the streaming platform. The manager asked you to handle it.”
On Maoyu TV’s homepage, #uniquediscontinued# was slowly climbing toward the bottom of the trending search list. Clicking on it revealed a flood of questions and complaints from fans. Many believed the platform’s low commission rates and unfair treatment had led to Unique’s suspension.
[Unique has been streaming for over two years, and his background is always that same shabby rental apartment. His camera quality is awful. What other popular streamer lives like this?]
[Small streamers who don’t join guilds all end up like this. Plenty of guilds have insider deals with the platform. If you sign with a guild, you get traffic and a higher commission.]
[I heard from an insider that Unique was really young when he started streaming. Since he was a minor, the platform gave him unfair terms and a dirt-cheap commission. Now that his contract is up, isn’t he just going to run away? Weiwei, stop streaming on Dead Fish TV and move to Aurora TV—they at least treat streamers fairly.]
[I noticed this too! Weiwei orders Pinhaofan takeout every single day. How can he grow at his age eating like that?]
The complaints grew more and more pitiful, with everyone speculating about where he might go next.
Ji Wei was dumbfounded. The comments weren’t entirely accurate. While the platform’s cut had been low at first, it was still enough to live on if he saved, so he hadn’t minded too much. After gaining popularity, he had even managed to put away a decent amount.
As for the rental and the takeout… that was just because he was stingy and too lazy to move.
He finally remembered the Weibo post he hadn’t opened since announcing his indefinite hiatus, and quickly posted a message to reassure his fans:
[unique : Thank you all for your concern[/smile] I recently found a job and am still in the internship phase. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, so I’ll give it my all. Don’t worry about me, I’ll continue livestreaming in the future if I get the chance[/come on]]
I did find a job and was interning, so that shouldn’t count as a lie, Ji Wei thought.
Within just a few minutes, over a thousand comments flooded in:
[What? You found a job? How old are you to start working already?]
[Can you really adapt to working life after livestreaming at home every day? Mom’s so worried about you.]
[How are you going to get along with colleagues? You look like the type who’d get tripped up by your boss’s pranks.]
Ji Wei stared at the frantic barrage of comments, unsure how to respond. In the end, he simply logged out of Weibo and checked WeChat to reassure a few concerned friends.
After replying to their messages one by one, Ji Wei returned to his room and discovered an unidentified, gurgling lump on the other bed—something that looked oddly like a giant worm.
As he approached, he realized his new roommate had burrowed completely under the covers and seemed to be struggling with something.
Ji Wei: “…Do you need help?”
The lump on the bed lifted a corner of the blanket. “You’re back? I saw you were busy on Weibo, so I came back to tidy up. I’m trying to put on the duvet cover. Why is this so hard?”
Ji Wei stepped forward and patted the lump. “Come out first. I’ll help you. The duvet inside is all tangled.”
Lin Tao crawled out of the duvet, his curly hair a complete mess. Scratching his head sheepishly, he admitted, “This is my first time doing this. I didn’t expect it to be so troublesome.”
Ji Wei shook out the duvet neatly, laid the cover flat on top, tied the two corners in place, and with a firm flip, snapped the rest of the duvet perfectly into place.
Lin Tao stood there, stunned.
“You’re so fast, aren’t you? Can you teach me again?”
Ji Wei wiggled his fingers. “I sent you a WeChat message.”
Lin Tao: ?
Opening WeChat, he saw:
Weiwei Dounan: [[Link] 100 Life Hacks: How many of you still wrestle with your duvet cover or just crawl under it? Today I’ll teach you how to put it on quickly…]
Lin Tao: .
The two chatted for a while, and Ji Wei soon realized his new roommate had just turned sixteen. He was a pampered rich kid who’d run away from home after a fight with his parents. Tired of staying in hotels, he’d decided to sign up for a tryout with AVG.
Lin Tao: “I just realized how amazing you are today. I feel like I’ve got no hope of making the tryouts, but it doesn’t matter—I’m just here to kill time. By the way, I want my idol’s autograph. I’m a die-hard fan of Mi Li!”
Seeing that his roommate didn’t respond, Lin Tao leaned over and asked, “By the way, do you have a favorite contestant?”
Ji Wei froze for a few seconds before answering, “I think so.”
“If you do, you do. If you don’t, you don’t. What’s with ‘I think so’?”
Ji Wei lowered his eyes, recalling the videos he’d stayed up late watching and the original reason he signed up for the tryouts.
“I… like Solve.”
Feeling oddly guilty, he quickly added, “Other people like him too. Milly’s a great mechanic as well.”
Lin Tao understood and teased, “Don’t be shy. Lots of people like Solve. He’s probably the most popular player in PCL. Half our class is a fan.”
“But I didn’t see him this time. I wonder which building Team One lives in… Wait—why are you blushing?”
Ji Wei scowled and changed the subject. “Go shower first, then check out our practice room. Training officially starts tomorrow.”
…
“Big news! Big news!”
In AVG’s main practice room, silence reigned, broken only by the clacking of keyboards and mice. Dashu burst in and shouted at the top of his lungs.
Mi Li had just finished a round and dropped to tenth place. “What are you yelling for? I can hear you through my headphones.”
Da Shu: “Wait—I’ll say it after the captain finishes.”
Mi Li: “You’re crazy.”
Yin Sijue, already aware of Da Shu pacing near his camera, finally finished his game, took off his headphones, and turned to listen.
“I just went to watch the new youth trainees’ first tryout. Guess who played the best!”
Lao Ma: “Weren’t they up against Team Two? Jerry’s team should’ve won.”
Mi Li: “By the way, isn’t Team Two short a player? Wasn’t it 3v4?”
“Brother Qiu gave them a sparring partner. But that’s not the point.”
Da Shu drew a deep breath and continued, “The point is—guess who won the game? It was that Unique player. The lone wolf!”
Yin Sijue raised his brows in surprise. “He beat Team Two?”
Mi Li: “Impossible. Team Two’s been working together for so long—they can’t just get crushed by a streamer.”
Da Shu: “Really? The coaches and I were watching. He’s got a lot of tricks up his sleeve. Team Two underestimated him.”
Lao Ma: “That good? Play a game with us sometime.”
The sound of a door opening downstairs, followed by the creak of luggage wheels, drew everyone’s attention as Xu Shaoqiu and Wolf walked in.
Xu Shaoqiu, carrying Wolf’s luggage, introduced him breathlessly: “Your camera position is here. You’ll be training with Team One from now on. Your room’s on the third floor. Since this isn’t your first time here, I won’t go into detail.”
“One more thing—you’ll have to return to Team Two in a couple of days. We scheduled a scrimmage with UGC’s Team Two earlier, and we agreed to use the same lineup. It’d be hard for them to find a sparring partner now, so you should go back and play with them.”
“Got it.” Wolf nodded, set his peripheral bag on the gaming chair, and—ignoring the worn-out Xu Shaoqiu—went upstairs empty-handed to check out his room.
Seeing the coach hunched over, Lao Ma stepped forward. “Let me help you carry it up.”
Xu Shaoqiu waved him off. “Never mind. Your hands are precious. I’ll just take it up one floor.”
Chuckling, he carried the luggage upstairs.
Da Shu glanced after him, resting his hand on the back of Yin Sijue’s chair. He muttered, “I’ve noticed Brother Qiu always keeps his temper in the strangest situations.”
Yin Sijue sneered and turned back to start his next game.