Chapter 80 – Drumstick Girl
“Alright, my little drumstick girl,” Yang Sa said as he aimed and shot down a player who was looting an airdrop.
To his surprise, it turned out to be an old friend—one of Team Glimmer’s players.
[Starcraft-Killer used a Vector to knock down Light-Bull]
Clearly, Yang Sa had no intention of giving them a chance to revive. He tapped his trigger to finish the job.
[Starcraft-Killer used a Vector to kill Light-Bull]
At this point, Team Weiguang was temporarily ranked first on the leaderboard. This sudden encounter had undoubtedly thrown them into the heart of the battle for the Golden Pot.
“Ranked so high and still going all in? Hey, Captain, wait up for me.” As Fat Tangyuan made fun of their old rivals, Yang Sa had already jumped out of the car.
Fat Tangyuan quickly stopped behind cover and called to Yang Sa, who was deploying smoke, “I’ll go, I’ll go. You cover me.”
Even though Du Changcheng had emphasized before the match that every player should take the initiative as much as possible, Yang Sa was the team’s commander. Tasks like these were originally meant for Fat Tangyuan, the assault player.
“Wait for me!” Jiang Ranan was driving over at that moment. As the team’s flex player, he had nimble movement, and with Team Glimmer’s snipers watching them like hawks, it was only natural that he be the one to draw fire.
“It’s too late.” Just before the smoke cloud, Fat Tangyuan swapped helmets with Yang Sa and charged toward the airdrop without hesitation.
Almost at the same time he rushed out, Glimmer’s main sniper began spraying bullets. Yang Sa instantly pinpointed the shooter’s location and fired back with a burst from his S12K.
At the same time, Weiguang’s secondary sniper had Yang Sa in their sights. Thankfully, Jiang Ranan, who had drawn some of their attention by driving in, and Zhuang Bai, who had dismounted earlier to set up an ambush, worked together with Yang Sa to eliminate the player.
[Starcraft-Killer used an MP5K to knock down Light-Moon]
[Starcraft-Killer used an MP5K to kill Light-Moon]
[Starcraft-Keen used a Kar98K to kill Light-Tee]
By the time the team helped Fat Tangyuan back up, his helmet was totally destroyed. His biggest regret, though, was that Team Glimmer had already been wiped out.
“Aw, come on! Grandpa Fat didn’t even get to make a move.”
Despite his complaints, he was still the first one to slide into the passenger seat and start healing.
Zhuang Bai tossed him some meds and a spare helmet, then got in the driver’s seat and started driving to avoid the shrinking zone.
From any angle, abandoning the safe zone to rush an airdrop was a risky move. But unexpectedly running into Team Weiguang and freezing their score and ranking turned out to be a pleasant surprise.
After recovering, Fat Tangyuan used his sharp dynamic vision to sweep out a camper hiding in the bushes. Staring at the bridge ahead—and the team lying in wait to charge them a “toll”—he muttered, “Here we go again. Here we go again.”
They’d finally managed to get a favorable round going, only to find everything back to square one as soon as they returned. The same old setup, the same old scene.
Throughout most of this Asia Cup, they’d been running from the shrinking zone, constantly being hunted down and cut off.
And now things were even worse. They had given up a prime spot to gatekeep the zone and farm free loot, but with their rank and points now soaring to second place, they had become the top target for every other team.
In the final half of the match, the battlefield was heating up to a boiling point.
Since Starcraft’s power had surged so quickly, the real fight was now between the third- and fourth-place teams—there was no room for passive, placement-focused play.
Every remaining team was going all in, especially the ones trailing behind. They were desperate to take down the front-runners—whether for the rankings or just to vent their frustration. So, wherever Team Starcraft went, they faced nothing but reckless, all-out aggression.
Fat Tangyuan, normally the one charging headfirst without a second thought, was now left with just a sliver of HP. Clutching his gun, half-crying, he said, “This is terrifying. These bast*rds are insane. They’re dead set on sending your Grandpa Fat to the afterlife!”
Yang Sa, ruthless and silent, mowed down two snipers on the ruins with his PP-19 Bizon and led his team into a cluster of buildings.
He gave his teammates time to heal, then grabbed his gun and went off to finish a weakened enemy squad still holding the area.
“Captain, you…” Fat Tangyuan wanted to tell him to be careful but realized it was pointless and would only kill the vibe.
Yang Sa soon returned from the housing area and tossed a freshly looted med kit in front of his teammates, moving Fat Tangyuan nearly to tears.
Yang Sa showed no emotional fluctuation. He simply told him to heal up—
“Next, shot by shot, let’s fight our way to the future.”
Almost at the same time, a grenade flew in from the doorway. Fat Tangyuan reacted instantly, diving forward to slam the door shut and contain the blast outside—incidentally getting teammate Zhuang Bai caught in the explosion outside.
Switching to Zhuang Bai’s POV in observer mode, he quipped, “You didn’t hesitate for a second to sacrifice me, huh?”
“Don’t mention it,” Fat Tangyuan gave an awkward laugh. “Seriously, I take one breather and you guys start treating me like I’m Hello Kitty.”
“Didn’t you always call yourself Grandpa?” Jiang Ranan, trailing behind, asked. “Why the sudden downgrade?”
Fat Tangyuan wasn’t the least bit annoyed. He replied leisurely, “Win this round—and then I’ll be a real Grandpa.”
At this moment, Team Starcraft had entered a new round of battle in the final circle. Yang Sa, who had just looted an M24 from an airdrop, transformed into a one-man killing machine. Amid the ruins, he unleashed a storm of destruction—gods or demons, anything in his path was struck down.
In that instant, Starcraft—a team led by rookies—completed its transformation. Like an unstoppable iron behemoth, it surged forward, crushing every piece of ground and every enemy’s resolve beneath its overwhelming pressure.
Match 10: Team Xinghai—First Place. Overall Rank: First. Total Points: First.
The new Xinghai didn’t just top the charts—they dominated them, with results and on-the-ground performance to prove it.
Once again, they had proven themselves.
…
On the big screen, highlights of Team Xinghai’s final chicken dinner played on loop. Clips recorded earlier were also aired. In one of them, young captain Yang Sa, with faint dark circles under his eyes, was teased by the crew during an interview—had he not been sleeping well?
Yang Sa showed little emotion, only gave a faint shake of his head. When reminded to record a promo clip for post-match coverage, he said just one thing:
“Xinghai won’t lose.”
“Captain is so cool—so cool!” Fat Tangyuan shouted, standing up with the help of his good leg. He grabbed Yang Sa in a bear hug, kissing him repeatedly.
Inexperienced with such enthusiastic affection, Yang Sa clearly didn’t know how to react. In the end, Zhuang Bai and Jiang Ranan teamed up to rescue their innocent young captain from the Demon King’s embrace.
“What? What? What?” Fat Tangyuan protested, still unsatisfied. “It’s just a hug! It’s not like I’m biting him! The captain’s very huggable, okay?”
Jiang Ranan gave him a jab in the chest. “You can’t hug the captain. There’s an old beast waiting for you back home—you can hug him all you want.”
Fat Tangyuan rolled his eyes and twisted his lips. “Who the hell wants to hug that old beast? I’d rather stay as far away from him as possible…”
The next second, his eyes widened as he watched the new captain, Yang Sa, take off his team jersey and hold it open toward the audience section.
On the outside of the jersey, Yang Sa’s ID was printed. On the inside—the team logo, and the ID of Shao Zhan.
As a short pause settled over the stadium, a wave of cheers erupted, louder and louder—
“Mars! Mars! Mars!”
Propped up by his teammates, Fat Tangyuan couldn’t even sit still. Covering his face, he groaned, “Oh come on… is there anywhere on this Earth that’s not under that shaggy old bast*rd’s influence?”
As they left the stage, Fat Tangyuan made no effort to hide his dissatisfaction.
“Your Grandpa Tangyuan just carried a match with a bum leg and won. That Shao guy didn’t even lift a finger—why the hell is the whole stadium chanting his name?” He wheeled himself up to Yang Sa. “Captain, you’re really not playing fair. You should’ve printed my ID on the inside of that jersey too. It’s not like it costs much!”
“Don’t embarrass yourself,” Zhuang Bai cut off his teammate’s rambling. “Don’t you already have one?”
“That’s not the point! It’s not the same!” Fat Tangyuan rolled his eyes so hard they practically did a backflip.
As per usual, the top three teams had to go in for post-match interviews. In the waiting area, Du Changcheng slapped each player on the shoulder with unrestrained pride. “Good job, boys!”
Manager Qin Chuan was all smiles, juggling nonstop calls from sponsors, casually raising a hand to acknowledge the team.
Even their foreign coach Li Bai was visibly excited, chattering away with the translator beside him. But just behind them was an unexpected visitor—one that caught the whole team off guard.
“Captain!” the youngest, Jiang Ranan, dashed forward and hugged Shao Zhan tightly. “What are you doing here?”
“Came to see how you monkeys are managing to flip roofs and break ceilings,” Shao Zhan grunted, holding back from the impact on his arm. He gently told the kid to ease up, bumped fists with Zhuang Bai, then bypassed Fat Tangyuan—who had his arms outstretched for a hug—and stepped up to Yang Sa.
He reached out and patted the lopsided hair pressed flat by Yang Sa’s headset. “Long time no see.”
Yang Sa opened his mouth, trying to say something, but just then, staff called the Xinghai players to the interview area.
Shao Zhan motioned for them to go ahead, suggesting they talk later. But Yang Sa, silent as ever, grabbed his arm and brought him along to the interview zone.
“Great, just great,” Fat Tangyuan muttered from his wheelchair, turning to Jiang Ranan behind him to complain, “Now even the post-match interview won’t have my face in it.”
Before he could escape fully, the sharp-eyed Du Changcheng caught him and shoved his head back into frame.
“Quit messing around.”