Chapter 1 – The Fear of Domination
Read more: Let Go of That Captain, Let Me Handle This [Esports] – Chapter 1
A silver coach bus stopped at the entrance of Boshi Sports Arena. A few young players in sportswear stepped out, their team’s star emblem shining on their chests, matching the fan banners in the crowd.
The external host on the stage was introducing the team’s history, but their voice was drowned out by the deafening cheers from outside the venue.
The once-quiet plaza erupted with resounding chants:
“Xinghai! Xinghai!…”
At the front of the team, Jiang Ranan—River—clutched his chest, his emotions surging. The lone pimple on his nose, as if responding to his excitement, blushed a deeper red.
“Honestly, even as a pro player, I still get fired up every time I see a scene like this.”
A scoff came from his right. Zhuang Bai—Keen—a tall, lanky player, leaned over and pointed at the names on the fan banners.
Jiang Ranan put on his signature glasses, his boiling blood instantly cooling by half.
He gritted his teeth, unable to hold back his frustration. “Mars, you old bast*rd! You officially announced that you wouldn’t be coming—so why are his lightboards everywhere?”
“Where? Where?!” The round and chubby Tangyuan—Sweet—used sheer strength to squeeze past his front-row teammates, squinting as he scanned the distance. A moment later, his stomach let out a loud grumble, followed by a furious wail. “Are you telling me that a few living, breathing people like us still can’t compare to that idiot who gets lost in his own base?”
The last to step down from the bus, team manager Qin Chuan, skillfully reassured them, “They’re here, they’re here. Look carefully, you’ll find them.”
Summoning every ounce of his eyesight, the chubby Sweet finally spotted a small, misshapen support sign squished into a corner. Overcome with excitement, he nearly dashed over to kiss the fan who held it.
Seeing through his intentions, Qin Chuan pressed a firm hand on his pudgy shoulder. “Behave. Smile, bow.”
And so, with a group of unwilling beasts in tow, they entered the venue.
The massive digital screen on the stadium’s outer wall displayed PUBG Fan Appreciation Match, alternating between clips of various star players.
The host outside was still expressing regret over the absence of certain celebrity players. But the moment they stepped into the stadium, a tall and familiar figure stood above them, arms crossed, looking down at everything below.
In an instant, the distant cheers grew even wilder.
“Mars! Mars! Mars!…”
Even though he had mentally prepared himself, the moment he entered, Tangyuan couldn’t help but shiver, an involuntary chill running down his spine.
He ducked behind Jiang Ranan, covering his face. “I can’t do this. No matter where I go, I feel an overwhelming fear of being dominated by our captain.”
The stadium was filled with life-sized cutouts of star players, but by far, the most prominent ones featured Team Xinghua’s captain—Mars, Shao Zhan.
“Don’t be scared, don’t be scared.” Jiang Ranan, feeling equally uneasy, tried to comfort his broad-shouldered, bear-like teammate. “Worst case scenario, when we leave, we’ll just ‘borrow’ a couple of these cutouts and use them as dartboards in the dorms. How about that?”
Tangyuan nodded furiously.
Unable to take it anymore, Qin Chuan smacked both of them on the head.
“It’s one thing to be unruly at the base, but when we’re outside, mind your image. He’s not just our captain—he’s also the head of the PUBG division.”
Jiang Ranan and Tangyuan pouted but swallowed their grievances in silence.
Once they reached a quiet spot with no one around, Qin Chuan leaned in close to his players and lowered his voice.
“When you steal a cutout, make sure to grab one for me too.”
Tangyuan’s eyes widened like round glutinous rice balls. “Manager, you—aren’t you…?”
“Aren’t what?” Qin Chuan cut him off. “That old bast*rd has been ignoring rules and doing whatever he wants just because he’s the young master of our parent company. This isn’t new—I’ve been wanting to beat him up for ages.”
“Then do it!” Tangyuan, never one to pass up on drama, egged him on.
“I would,” Qin Chuan took a deep breath, “if I wasn’t afraid I’d lose.”
“Speaking of which, where is the captain?” Zhuang Bai , who had been silent until now, finally asked.
“Who the hell knows?” Tangyuan shot a glare at the Mars cutout, cursing under his breath. “Probably off meeting some random man.”
…
Two streets away, inside a private booth at a café, Shao Zhan sneezed out of nowhere.
Across from him, a pair of long, narrow, pale green eyes observed his every move. Slender, fair fingers tapped rhythmically on a light green check before slowly pushing it across the table.
Shao Zhan glanced at the blank check, raising an eyebrow slightly.
The man across from him withdrew his hand, making a slight invitation gesture before resting his chin on his interlaced fingers.
His pale eyes held a faint, sideways gaze—watching his prey. Any resistance before the fish took the bait was just posturing, waiting for the right price. And he was confident he had made an offer no one could refuse.
Shao Zhan lifted his teacup to his lips, pausing briefly before setting it down. The base of the cup left a faint water stain on the check.
Releasing the cup, he spread his hands and offered a slight, apologetic smile before standing up to leave.
Outside the café, at some point, a light drizzle had begun to fall.
Shao Zhan hesitated for only a moment before stepping into the rain.
The sudden drizzle had thinned out the crowd, turning even taxis into a rare luxury.
With no other choice, he continued walking along the misty, rain-drenched streets.
Pale green eyes remained fixed on his slender figure. A quiet voice spoke into the phone, reporting, “He refused.”
The other end of the call gave no response—only the sound of the line being disconnected.
The green-eyed man pressed his lips together, putting his phone away with a sigh. At the same time, the distant silhouette had completely disappeared from view.
…
Lost in the evening streets, Shao Zhan had missed his one chance at catching a taxi—because he had been too busy arguing with his teammates in the group chat.
By the time he realized, the cab was long gone.
Picking up his pace to catch up, he unexpectedly stepped into a brightly lit plaza.
Instinctively, he turned to leave—only for the lively noise around him to suddenly pause.
And then, like a tidal wave, came the deafening chants: “Mars! Mars!…”
The players of Glimmer, who had just stepped off their team bus, originally ready to bask in the cheers, suddenly froze. Their smiles stiffened as they watched the sea of bright yellow support signs seamlessly switch to red—huge Mars banners floating above every fan’s head.
The Glimmer players darkened as they hurried past the crowd, expressions less than pleasant.
Shao Zhan strolled over and fist-bumped Weiguang’s captain, Mu Chen—Moon—exchanging a friendly greeting.
“Tr*sh.”
“Backstabber.”
Outwardly, they looked like old friends catching up, the picture of harmony and camaraderie.
Meanwhile, the fans continued their tireless chant: “Mars! Mars! Mars!…”
Mu Chen, thoroughly sick of hearing that name, withdrew his hand and covered his gritted teeth with a polite smile. “Bast*rd. Didn’t you say you weren’t coming?”
“The crowd here is too passionate—I just couldn’t refuse such enthusiasm.” Shao Zhan squinted slightly, raising a hand in acknowledgment—triggering yet another wave of deafening cheers. “Apologies for stealing your team’s spotlight.”
Although he said that, there wasn’t a trace of guilt on his face.
“It’s nothing,” Weiguang’s captain waved a hand dismissively. “It’s just an exhibition match—don’t take your idol status too seriously.”
Shao Zhan grinned, almost arrogantly, and turned to the players behind Mu Chen. “Did you hear that? Your captain just admitted I’m an idol.”
“Hmph, what our captain meant is that Weiguang relies on skill,” Weiguang’s rookie, Jiang Te—Tee—retorted, clearly unconvinced.
Mu Chen had brought him along to get used to the atmosphere and show his face in front of fans, but he hadn’t expected a verbal sparring match to break out.
“Then do your best,” Shao Zhan said, smirking. “I hope Weiguang’s skills can match up to my looks.”
Though his tone was casual and sounded like he was simply encouraging a junior, there was something about it that made people want to throw punches.
Seeing the fighting spirit he had ignited, Shao Zhan gestured a casual thumbs-up to Mu Chen before turning toward the exit.
“Not going in?” Mu Chen asked, feigning ignorance.
Shao Zhan turned back with a dazzling smile. “If I go in, will there be any camera time left for you guys?”
Mu Chen chuckled and playfully punched his old friend’s shoulder. Shao Zhan hadn’t expected it, but that brief exchange—just a laugh and a single hit—completely ruined his escape plan.
The event’s on-stage host, standing on the high platform just moments ago, had somehow flown down the hastily assembled iron stairs in towering ten-centimeter heels, blocking his path in an instant.
“Captain Shao Zhan! Captain Shao Zhan!” The excited female host practically shoved the microphone toward him. “Earlier, Xinghai officially announced that you would be absent from this event. What made you change your mind?” She paused, then playfully added, “Was this a strategic move from your team?”
Shao Zhan reined in his expression, falling silent for a long moment before coolly replying, “Secret.”
Behind him, Weiguang’s players, relegated to mere background props, simultaneously rolled their eyes. In their minds, they all cursed: “So d*mn pretentious.”
At the same time, the scene outside the venue was being broadcast inside the stadium, sending the crowd into an excited frenzy over the unexpected surprise.
Even the official livestream’s viewer count had suddenly quadrupled.
But the most shocked of all were none other than Xinghai’s own players.
Tangyuan whipped out his phone and messaged Shao Zhan: [What the hell? You actually came??]
At the stadium entrance, Shao Zhan, having just wrapped up his impromptu interview, was now walking into the venue alongside Weiguang’s players.
The hallway lights, along with the roaring cheers inside the stadium, seemed to intensify by a couple of degrees.
“Come on, if you’re going to pull a surprise stunt like this, can you at least stick with your own team?” Even Weiguang’s usually aloof captain couldn’t help but complain.
Hearing a crowd’s cheers several times louder than usual—only for them not to be directed at his own team—would put anyone in a foul mood.
To make matters worse, the signage in the corridor was still glowing Weiguang’s signature yellow, yet the chants inside the stadium were shifting toward perfect unison:
“Mars, Mars, Mars…”
Even before stepping inside, the overwhelming passion was palpable.
“So shallow,” Weiguang’s rookie, Jiang Te muttered under his breath, silently cursing himself for not being born with such a ridiculously good-looking face.
“What, washed up at Xinghai and now looking for warmth with Weiguang?” Assault player Bull, known for his brute force, scoffed. “Did you hear our second team is short on subs and rush over to try out?”
Shao Zhan glanced at the message from Tangyuan on his phone, then tucked it back into his pocket without a second thought. As if he hadn’t even heard the taunts, he hummed a tune and strolled forward.
In the hallway, Mu Chen’s expression darkened. He lowered his voice in reprimand: “Watch yourself.”
Mars Shao Zhan was an undisputed legend in PUBG. His achievements spoke for themselves.
And to openly disrespect someone while their own captain was present? That was nothing but a stain on Weiguang’s reputation. It wasn’t just a loss in popularity—it was a loss in dignity.
Lack of skill could be improved. A gap in technique could be filled. But once lost, sportsmanship and class could never be regained.
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Shao Zhan rubbed his hands together nonchalantly, throwing an arm around Weiguang’s rookie. “Don’t listen to that bowlegged brute—he just blurts out whatever comes to mind. No big deal. Worst case, word gets out that your captain lacks control over his team and that Weiguang has a toxic culture…”
Before Jiang Te could protest, Shao Zhan had already dragged him up onto the platform—straight into the roaring cheers of thousands.