Tag: E-sports

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Lao Liu Pretends to Be Obedient and Tricks Me [E-Sports] – Chapter 1

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Chapter 1 – Esports Don’t Require Vision.

Read more: Lao Liu Pretends to Be Obedient and Tricks Me [E-Sports] – Chapter 1

“Shh, don’t make a sound.”

In the dim room, the fluorescent glow of the computer screen lit up the handsome face of a boy. Ji Wei stared intently at the monitor, carefully maneuvering his game character forward.

The livestream, titled <Only His Life>, had already reached 7 million views. As a well-known PUBG streamer on Maoyu TV, Ji Wei not only had to play the game seriously but also constantly split his attention to glance at the barrage of comments in the lower right corner and interact with fans:

“There are less than twenty people left. The circle’s not shrinking in my favor—it’s just a bare lawn with only a few rocks.”

“Why don’t you go into the circle?” someone asked.

“I’ve got plenty of meds, so I won’t walk in just to become a sitting duck,” Ji Wei replied.

PUBG, also known as Chicken Dinner, is a battle royale game where players fight on an ever-shrinking map until only one remains standing.

Most streamers attract fans with their marksmanship, racking up twenty or thirty kills in a single match to the audience’s delight.

Ji Wei, however, wasn’t like that. He relied on stealth.

The boy directed his character toward a dead tree ahead. Switching to a brown camouflage skin, he crouched low and slowly crawled forward.

A player rushed past, completely unaware of Ji Wei’s presence, and crouched nearby to heal, leaving himself defenseless.

The barrage instantly flooded with comments:

[“Esports Don’t Require Vision”]

[“Esports Don’t Require Vision”]

“What a shame, he ran right into the center of the circle,” Ji Wei sighed. He stood up, raised his gun, shot the man dead, and ducked back into cover.

The killed player, realizing he’d been tricked, turned on his mic to curse:

“L@## you bastard! Come out and fight me if you dare! I’m a ￥#@# idiot!”

Ji Wei blinked his innocent-looking eyes and replied, his clear, mellow voice carrying a touch of southern sweetness—though his words were infuriating:

“Brother, wear glasses next time you play. Here’s a lesson for you: when you reach the finals, don’t just charge forward like a bull.”

He then glanced at the camera and addressed his viewers:

“Everyone, don’t just squat and heal as soon as you enter the circle. Remember to look around for hidden players when you run.”

A newcomer on the leaderboard typed:

[“Why is this streamer so cowardly?”]

[“Is this game just about hiding? Can you please stop playing like this?”]

Many profanity-laced comments were swiftly blocked and removed by the moderators. Ji Wei had seen at least a thousand similar ones, yet he continued playing without the slightest concern.

The number of survivors dwindled, until only Ji Wei and two other players remained. He noticed a tuft of grass beside the southwest rock shift ever so slightly.

“Well, looks like I’ve found a kindred spirit~”

Ji Wei scoped in and caught sight of a pair of feet sticking out from behind the rock. Without hesitation, he stood and fired.

[unique] used his UZI submachine gun to knock down [jasdhksh].

The man didn’t die immediately after collapsing to the ground.

The comments quickly reacted:

[“He has teammates!!”]

[“Two vs. One, Lao Liu1 streamer, just wait for death”]

Ji Wei immediately tried to retreat to cover and search for the enemy, but his gunfire had already revealed his position. Another player’s bullets came raining down from the southeast.

“They’ve drawn fire. The gunfire should be…”

Ji Wei dodged the shots, then leapt up without hesitation, aimed, and fired several rounds into a bush.

[Good luck, Chicken Dinner tonight!]

[“Weiwei is awesome!! My 13th Chicken Dinner today!!”]

[“Is sound positioning really that good?”]

“So, wearing a ghillie suit and hiding in a bush without cover makes it hard to spot you…” Ji Wei muttered.

He immediately quit the match and prepared to start another round.

[“What’s with the streamer’s ‘I’ve learned something’ expression?”]

[“What’s so arrogant about him? Hiding and still counting it as a win? But honestly, his positioning and reaction speed are pretty sharp, and his aim seems solid too…”]

[“I overthought it. Who wants to be the boss when you can just gunsling? This game’s all about gunslinging.”]

[“I’ve unfollowed. I hate meeting players like this in-game.”]

“Stop arguing,” Ji Wei said with a smile. “I’ll play a few more rounds, then log off. Next time, let’s drop in somewhere with more people and hide.”

Having streamed for nearly three years, he was already used to chaotic comment barrages. After all, he made money from it—criticism was just part of the job.

Ji Wei wasn’t a veteran of the PUBG scene, but he quickly rose to fame on the platform thanks to his charm and good looks. Later, his unique streaming style secured him a spot among the top streamers. With an astonishing number of loyal fans, it was only natural that many people also disliked him.

Some rival streamers lurked in his games, hoping to catch him hiding and humiliate him with a kill. Yet for some reason, they never succeeded, forced instead to watch Ji Wei steadily climb the platform leaderboards.

“Let’s do a four-man match this time. I’ll carry the team to victory.”

Ji Wei switched off the [Don’t Match Teammates] option and queued up for a new game, full of confidence.

The comments immediately mocked him as a braggart.

[“Really? I don’t buy it.”]
[“Sure, sure. He gets criticized every match, but still insists he can carry. He must’ve been moved to tears by Villager & Bot!”]

“Why don’t you believe me?” Ji Wei grinned. “If I don’t take them to Chicken Dinner this time, I’ll hand out a 10,000-yuan red envelope.”

[“Screenshot taken”]

The ambition was grand—but ten minutes later, despite Ji Wei’s repeated warnings, teammates number one and number two charged straight toward the sound of gunfire, practically begging to die.

The barrage in the lower-right corner of the screen went blank; Ji Wei didn’t even bother reading the taunts his viewers were throwing at him.

This time, he followed his teammates into P City, a high-traffic loot spot. Ji Wei looted casually, then crouched in the corner of a building near his squad, waiting for the circle to close. Unexpectedly, the two idiots were knocked the moment they landed, leaving him no chance to rush over and save them.

Only one teammate remained on the map — the player with the ID [ysjduckduck123] — and he kept moving around.

Ji Wei had no choice but to get up and creep toward the house where the last teammate was. After all, it was ten thousand yuan; he didn’t really want to lose it.

He opened his mic to test the waters: “Number Three, you about done looting? Want to move somewhere else? At least four squads dropped in P City — there were only two of us here…”

All he got in reply was the crisp sound of a window being vaulted through; Number Three didn’t even acknowledge him. After Ji Wei moved into the house, Number Three decisively switched buildings and kept searching.

[“Hahahaha, as everyone knows, Lao Liu = orphan”]

[“If you’ve got time to beg for carries, you might as well just send the red envelope now”]

[“Does anyone else find this ID a tiny bit familiar…”]

Ji Wei reluctantly followed. “Hey man, could you not go that way? One and Two just died over there.”

When he got no response, he didn’t give up and tried again: “How about we hold up in the building for a bit? Wait until they move on, then loot — there are so many houses, for sure some loot will be left!”

Please, a peaceful P City run with no bloodshed — why make it bloody?

[“Hahaha who wants your leftovers”]

[“If you keep embarrassing yourself like this your mom’ll disown you”]

At that moment, a sudden burst of fierce gunfire erupted from Number Three’s position!

Gunshots rang out from all directions; other players who spotted Number Three all rushed over to take down the lone wolf.

Ji Wei’s brow jumped hard.

The lone teammate couldn’t die — if he did, Ji Wei would actually have to hand out the red envelope.

He moved his character and sprinted toward the two-story red house where Number Three was. P City’s rooms were scattered, and it was easy to hide, so Ji Wei planned to climb up through a window onto the roof to find him — that way, even if Number Three went down, there might still be time to save him.

Bang!

Another burst of gunfire rang out — the sharp crackle of AKM rifles echoed ahead. Number Three was already on the roof.

Before Ji Wei could even climb onto the eaves, a string of kill notifications flashed across the screen — one, then two, then three…

[ysjduckduck123] used an AKM assault rifle to knock down [gonzhuxianjianqiang]

[ysjduckduck123] used an AKM assault rifle to knock down [biebuqiuqiu]

[ysjduckduck123] used an AKM assault rifle to knock down [ckfighting]
…

Ji Wei stood frozen at the edge of the roof, watching Number Three mow down every nearby enemy with the AK, then leap gracefully off the rooftop.

…

Question: What would happen if Lao Liu ran into a Gun God and invited him to “just chill in the building for a while”?

Ji Wei didn’t know. He only knew that if social death were a book, he’d definitely be finishing it tonight — using his toes to turn the pages.

Misled by his first two teammates, he had taken Number Three for a reckless rookie who only knew how to charge headfirst. He never expected him to be a true master.

It wasn’t long before Number Three had cleared out all of P City. Ji Wei spotted his route on the map and realized he was heading toward the garage to grab a vehicle.

He switched on his team mic, his voice trembling with embarrassment:

“Number Three, the car’s here. I’ll give you a ride.”

“….”

No reply.

Ji Wei drove up beside him and honked twice.

But Number Three just walked past indifferently, making no move to get in.

Undeterred, Ji Wei slowed his car to a crawl and followed along behind him.

After a while, as if he could no longer endure it, Number Three finally turned on his mic. A cold, deep voice rang out:

“Don’t follow me.”

The boy in front of the screen widened his eyes instantly.

Ji Wei’s scalp and ears tingled at the sound, and he subconsciously let go of the keyboard.

He tried to distract himself by glancing at the comments, but the barrage was pure chaos:

[“Holy crap! Baby, you just bumped into Jue Shen! Oh my god!!”]

[“I checked—this account played duos with AVG’s Treant just last week.”]

[“AVG’s Spring Split performance was so bad, and yet they still had time to play such low-level games. Ridiculous!”]

[“Can you stop cursing in Unique’s stream? This isn’t a forum!”]

[“Help! Solve is famous for hating Old Sixes, and you actually asked him to hide with you!”]

[“This is so embarrassing! Stop following him already! I’m terrified he’ll just throw a grenade at you!”]

Ji Wei froze again at the flood of messages. His hand, halfway to grabbing his water cup, stopped in mid-air for a long moment.

AVG’s Solve? How could it be him? Ji Wei didn’t follow the pro scene, but anyone who played PUBG knew Solve.

The reason was simple: he was insanely popular, constantly trending. From performance to looks to physique, he was flawless.

[Solve], real name Yin Sijue, was the captain and in-game leader of professional team AVG. A recognized all-around player, he had led AVG to three consecutive PCL championships and a PGC World Championship, remaining untouchable in solo queue.

Although the PGC crown had since been taken by the Korean team SOP and AVG had only reached the semifinals last year, Yin Sijue’s popularity hadn’t wavered. Major advertisers still favored him.

Ji Wei was, in fact, using a keyboard he endorsed.

“You’re saying that Number Three is Solve?”

The boy scratched his head, still doubtful. “Don’t get so excited. Maybe we’re just seeing things?”

[“No mistake—Solve used this account in his stream last month.”]

“Ah… okay, everyone, calm down. Don’t get too excited.”

Recovering from the shock, Ji Wei remembered the game wasn’t over. The safe zone had already shifted away from P City, and his character was slowly losing health.

“It’s over. It’s over.”

There was no way Number Three would come back to save him. Ji Wei immediately hopped into a car and sped for the safe zone, making it inside just before collapsing.

“That was close! Good thing I had plenty of meds in my bag.”

The essence of an Old Six: hoarding items to crawl into the circle no matter what.

He lay in the grass, injected medicine, and checked the kill feed on the bulletin board.

By now, [ysjduckduck123] had filled the screen. When Ji Wei clicked on the team stats, he saw Number Three had already killed more than twenty players—an undisputed elimination king this round.

“Guys, there’s only one left. He’s been quiet for ages, so it must be Number Six.” The streamer blinked his wide, innocent eyes. “See? My survival has value. I can back Number Three up with my gun.”

[“Why tear each other down when you’re in the same trade?”]

[“No need to make “lying down for Chicken Dinner” sound so noble!”]

[“Who needs your cover fire? He’s a world champion.”]

Ji Wei ignored the harsh comments. He crawled forward slowly, found a high spot, and scoped in to observe.

Suddenly, he saw the grass behind Number Three’s back shift.

A shiny green helmet rose slowly from the gap between two rocks.

Without hesitation, Ji Wei scoped in and opened fire, bullets piercing straight through the enemy’s head.

[Winner Winner, Chicken Dinner!]

The camera zoomed in, highlighting Ji Wei’s character as the one who scored the final kill.

The barrage instantly lit up:

[“Hahahaha did you just carry Solve to Chicken Dinner??”]

[“If the streamer hadn’t fired, Jue Shen would’ve killed him anyway. Totally unnecessary.”]

[“From that angle, who knows—Solve really might have gotten Six’d.”]

After the match ended, the other player seemed displeased and quickly exited the results screen.

“Well then…” The boy suppressed his jumble of emotions and told the viewers, “Wait a second, I’ll check the stats from the last round.”

He opened the match history, found Number Three from his team, and clicked into the player’s profile.

What greeted him was not only a string of consecutive wins, but also a Psyduck avatar—completely at odds with the cold, lethal “Gun God” he’d just witnessed in-game.

Ji Wei stared blankly into Psyduck’s vacant eyes for several minutes before remembering he was still live.

Just then, a barrage floated across the screen:

[“By the way, why does Solve use such a silly, cutesy avatar? It doesn’t match his image at all!”]

Note :

  1. “老六” (Lǎo Liù) is gaming slang in China, especially in PUBG, meaning:
    A player who hides, sneaks, and waits for others to fight before taking advantage.
    Basically a camper / ambusher / rat.
    It comes from the idea that in a group ranked by seniority, the “sixth brother” is sneaky, not upfront like the others. ↩︎

LGTC

Let Go of That Captain, Let Me Handle This [Esports] – Chapter 1

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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.

DPWF

Don’t Provoke the Wife Fans [E-Sport] – Chapter 1

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Chapter 1 – Face me!

Read more: Don’t Provoke the Wife Fans [E-Sport] – Chapter 1

At the end of March, the final day of the PUBG Spring Championship’s weekly finals had arrived.

It was past five o’clock when a sleek Mercedes-Benz slowly came to a stop in front of the e-sports arena at the Broadcasting and Production Center.

A group of staff members rushed forward, spreading their arms as if to offer an escort.

Through the tinted windows, everyone was curious about who could be inside. After all, all the competing teams had already entered an hour earlier.

The car door opened, and a young man, carrying a backpack slung over one shoulder, stepped out, unfolding his long legs as he exited the car.

Nearby fans were the first to erupt in screams, their excitement spreading outward, causing the entire crowd to buzz with excitement.

Those standing further back had their view blocked by the raised support signs, unable to see what was happening.

One guy, perplexed by the fuss, asked, “Who is it that’s making such a flashy entrance? Not even Tan Shen1 would get this much hype.”

A girl ahead of him excitedly turned around, “It is Tan Shen! Tan Shen’s here!!!”

The guy, who had been unimpressed just moments ago, immediately changed his tune and roared, “Talk2! Tan Shen! Aaaaah— Tan Shen! I love you! Aaaah—!!!”

The man, surrounded by the crowd, kept his head down as he was escorted by staff through Gate 1 of the venue. As he walked through the corridor, the setting sun cast a streak of orange-pink across his prominent nose, but it did nothing to soften his skin, which was cold to the point of being almost pale.

At the VIP entrance on the other side of the plaza, a young man with creamy white hair paused, looking back at the crowd shouting “Talk!” in unison.

It wasn’t until the ticket inspector gently reminded him that the young man snapped out of it, took the ticket with the stub torn off, and walked towards the green passage leading directly into the venue.

WLG’s team sniper, Xiao Pai, was stuffing himself with a burger, but even from the lounge, he could hear the uproar outside. He looked up and asked, “Did Tan Mo arrive?”

The coach didn’t even have to think about it: “Can you find another man in the entire esports scene who can make an entrance and create a celebrity vibe like that?”

Xiao Pai relaxed and said, “With Dad Talk here, I could play this game blindfolded.”

The next second, the coach pried Xiao Pai’s eyes open forcefully. “Close your eyes, my foot! Keep those eyes wide open and play properly! Look at what a mess your results are when Tan Mo’s not around! Out of the twenty-four participating teams, where are we now? First place! From the bottom!”

“Ah! Ouch, ouch, that hurts!!!”

As the team manager walked in, he heard Xiao Pai’s agonized wail and snapped, “Shush! Stop yelling!”

Right behind him, Tan Mo entered the room.

Everyone looked over. The dashing man placed his backpack on a table by the wall, shrugged off his windbreaker with one hand, and pulled out his team jacket from the bag with the other, putting it on.

Apart from the ever-present pallor of fatigue, he seemed perfectly fine.

“A-Mo… maybe you should let the substitute play this time?”

The coach watched him closely for a while before hesitantly suggesting.

Tan Mo zipped up his jacket, his eyelids drooping slightly, and responded with just two words:

“Trust me.”

Sang Ye entered the venue a bit late and didn’t notice that several young women were peeking at him as he passed by.

He compared the seat number on his ticket and saw that someone was sitting in his seat, which was right in the center of the second row. A guy had his arm draped over the shoulder of a girl next to him, looking around at the passing audience.

As Sang Ye walked toward the middle, he gradually caught part of their conversation.

The girl said, “Come on, go sit in your own seat. Who’s going to give up their middle seat for you?”

The guy replied, “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. My seat is just two over, switching won’t affect anyone’s view. Plus, if that person knows we’re a couple and still won’t switch, they’re just trying to split us up. That’d be so rude, right?”

Sang Ye noticed that seat number 16 was directly under the central air vent and stopped walking.

The guy was sitting in seat 15 and glanced to the side.

There, he saw a young man with striking3 white hair, so handsome it was almost refreshing. The young man checked his ticket, then looked up at the vent, frowning slightly.

It seemed like he didn’t like the idea of sitting directly under the air conditioning.

Sure enough, the young man spoke: “Excuse me, would you mind switching seats?”

Without hesitation, the guy waved his hand dismissively: “Not convenient, sorry!”

He had been eyeing that seat for a while.

The young man glanced at his ticket again and looked down at him: “Sorry, but you’re sitting in my seat.”

“…”

The guy was speechless.

After a long pause, he pointed at the girl beside him: “I… she… we’re a couple, and—”

But under the young man’s calm gaze, he couldn’t manage to finish his sentence.

With a heavy sigh of frustration, the guy grudgingly got up and left.

Sang Ye took off his backpack and sat down heavily.

Claiming the moral high ground? Moral blackmail? Get out of here.

He’d fought for this seat at 2 a.m. when the tickets went on sale, so why should he give it up to a couple?

As everyone settled in, the large screen on the stage began playing the promotional video for the Spring Tournament.

The audience gradually quieted down.

The girl sitting in seat 16 next to Sang Ye was fanning herself with one hand while spraying hydrating mist onto her face with the other. “I finally managed to snag a seat, and it’s right under the air conditioner! My makeup’s about to crack!”

She’d put a lot of effort into her makeup before leaving the house, but no matter how waterproof it was, even the best products couldn’t withstand that much mist. Her eye makeup was already starting to smudge like panda eyes.

Understanding that girls like to look their best when they go out, especially to take selfies for social media, Sang Ye put away his iPad and tilted his head toward her: “Let’s switch seats.”

The girl was stunned for a moment, feeling touched. She pointed at the air vent above her: “But what about you?”

Sang Ye was already bent over, getting up: “It’s fine. I’ve got thick skin.”

“…”

The young man’s face was so pale and delicate it seemed like you could pinch water out of it. He couldn’t have been further from the phrase “thick-skinned.”

The girl, overwhelmed with gratitude, thanked him repeatedly.

Sang Ye moved to a new seat, and the guy from the couple he had previously encountered was now seated to his left.

Feeling a bit put out for having been outmaneuvered by the young man, the guy asked, “High school student, huh? Don’t you have school tomorrow morning?”

Sang Ye didn’t even look up as he opened his tablet: “Can’t afford high school.”

The guy was taken aback and then burst out laughing, “Don’t play dumb. You bought a VIP seat for 2,600 Yuan, and you’re telling me you can’t afford high school?”

Sang Ye replied, “Not enough credits, can’t afford it.”

“…”

The conversation was not going anywhere.

The air conditioning in the venue was intense, and after a while, Sang Ye found it uncomfortable and took off his heavy jacket.

At that moment, the lights dimmed, and a beam of light focused on the center of the stage. The passionate voice of the commentator echoed through the large venue:

“Dear audience, welcome to the second match day of the fourth week of the PCL Spring Tournament!”

The competing teams walked onto the stage from the side and headed straight for the competition area, greeted by enthusiastic applause and cheers.

The camera crane moved widely, capturing the scene, which was broadcast live on the massive LED screens throughout the venue. The audience, excited and lively, was adorned with flashing support banners that rose and fell in waves.

The camera panned around, then focused on the lucky audience members.

Seeing their faces on the giant screen in the center of the stage, some people shyly ducked, some waved enthusiastically, and others, bold as ever, blew kisses to the camera.

Taking advantage of this, the commentators engaged the audience with lively banter, while allowing each team sufficient time for pre-match preparations.

WLG’s team manager stood at the side of the stage, watching Tan Mo put on his headset, struggling to resist the urge to pull him off the stage.

“He had another dream last night,” the manager said.

A voice suddenly cut in beside him.

Turning to look, he saw the team doctor.

The manager hesitated, “Still dreaming about… the same forest?”

“It’s been a month straight,” the team doctor warned, “In his current state, he shouldn’t even be here.”

The manager frowned in frustration, “I’ve tried to persuade him. He won’t listen.”

After watching the stage for a moment, the team doctor pulled something from his pocket and discreetly handed it to the manager, keeping his gaze steady: “Watch his condition. If it gets really bad… this might help.”

Confused, the manager opened his hand to look.

He was handed a bottle of medicine with the label torn off. The white plastic gleamed under the lights, revealing a shadowy color.

…

The director of broadcasting scanned several rows of the audience and seemed to suddenly notice something. The camera crane swung back around and zoomed in on the second row, closer to the stage.

The atmosphere in the venue shifted.

The selected young man had striking creamy white-colored hair, his head lowered, wearing only a clean short-sleeve T-shirt that revealed his delicate, white collarbone.

Just his silhouette alone was enough to set the mood.

The guy next to him, excited, nudged his neighbor: “Hey! Hey! You’re on the screen!”

Sang Ye instinctively looked up—

A world-weary, unconventional beauty’s face dominated the giant screen.

The audience erupted into high-pitched screams.

Female commentator: “This young man is so handsome, even this old aunt feels like her heart has been pierced.”

Male commentator: “He really is good-looking… I just remembered, he seems to be a signed streamer on the Maoya platform.”

Female commentator: “Hmm? Is there something we don’t know?”

The guy next to Sang Ye was stunned, his worldview collapsing as he looked at Sang Ye.

This kid, who looked under eighteen, was actually a streamer?!

Male commentator: “His ID is [Song], and he’s from Shanghai. Last month, Maoya’s gaming section held a beauty contest with separate voting for male and female streamers. Somehow, a mischievous fan submitted Song’s livestream screenshot into the female streamer candidate pool. As a result, his votes skyrocketed, and he won first place, while the winner of the male streamer category was naturally [Talk]. The even funnier part is that their photos were displayed side by side on the homepage banner. By the time the staff realized the gender mix-up and urgently took down the promotion, a full day had passed.”

The audience burst into laughter.

Sang Ye, however, was unfazed. He held a stylus in one hand, scribbling on his tablet, his expression aloof and indifferent.

In reality, the commentators didn’t mention everything. Besides the initial reviewers having poor eyesight, Sang Ye’s success among female streamers was also closely tied to every rebellious netizen.

Sang Ye’s livestream photo was indeed poorly taken but still looked good. However, viewers weren’t blind; they recognized he was a male. Yet, knowing he was a male seemed to excite them even more. They voted enthusiastically, propelling Sang Ye from mid-tier rankings to the title of “Most Beautiful Goddess.”

So this voting was purely a prank, with no intention of disparaging female streamers, and everyone had a good laugh at the result.

“I wonder if Talk still remembers this young man who was featured alongside him on the homepage banner? Is Talk watching right now?”

The female commentator suddenly wanted to involve Talk, and Sang Ye’s breath caught. He quickly looked up at the front.

Everyone noticed oddly that the cool guy who had seemed so aloof just moments ago now had his clear eyes trembling, and his pale skin flushed with color.

Xiao Pai glanced at the LED screen and whistled: “Indeed, as expected of a face-value tyrant4, Tan Shen, don’t you even take a look?”

Just then, the director switched the camera to the player area.

Talk appeared on the screen, and upon being called out, he lifted his eyes to look forward.

The director then cleverly switched back to the audience.

The intention was to show Talk the young man.

However, the young man had already raised his tablet to cover his face the instant Talk looked up.

So when Talk glanced at the screen, all he saw was a tablet.

Talk’s expression changed subtly before he quickly looked away and continued adjusting game parameters.

Sang Ye, noticing the sudden wave of screams, realized something was off and looked closely.

Oh no!

He had held the tablet the wrong way!

The support message he had been scribbling on the tablet, which he hadn’t had time to finish, was now exposed to everyone:

[WLG Never Gives Up, Talk Face-to-Face with Thousands5]

The male commentator pondered and boldly guessed, “So that character is—me?”

“!!!” Sang Ye froze in his seat.

He meant to write “Talk Face-to-Face with the Enemy.”

The Enemy!

Enemy!!!

Me…

“Can say such bold and wild words…” the female commentator subtly added, “Could he be – Talk’s wife fan6?”

Sang Ye: “…………”

Author’s Note:

Tan Mo: Be confident, just drop the ‘fan‘ part.

Note :

  1. “Tan Shen” (谈神) is a nickname that combines the surname “Tan” (谈) with the Chinese word “Shen” (神), which means “God.” In this context, “Tan Shen” likely refers to a character who is highly skilled or revered, particularly in esports or gaming, where “Shen” is used to express admiration or respect, as in “God-level” talent. ↩︎
  2. “Talk” is Tan Shen’s in-game name ↩︎
  3. “Striking” means impressive, noticeable, or attracting attention. ↩︎
  4. face-value tyrant (a slang term for someone who is extremely good-looking) ↩︎
  5. Talk Face-to-Face with Thousands: Talk should confront or face challenges directly, implying courage and confidence in dealing with a large number of opponents or challenges. ↩︎
  6. “Wife fan” is a slang term used to describe a fan who is extremely devoted to a male celebrity, often to the point of obsession. It’s a more playful and exaggerated way to say “super fan” or “die-hard fan.” ↩︎

SIK

Support is King [Holographic Game]- Chapter 1

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A deep gray-themed cybercafe, bustling with people coming and going.

The light rain outside didn’t dampen the enthusiasm of the customers for using the internet. As you put away your umbrella and entered through the front door, your eyes were immediately drawn to the prominent LCD display screen in the center, continuously playing the new expansion of “Genesis 3.0.”

Occasionally, people would pause to watch for a moment, but most just briskly walked past, heading to the counter to pick up their pre-booked virtual cabin information cards and proceed to swipe in.

When Jiang Shi left home, it wasn’t raining, so he entered the cybercafe without any shelter from the rain. His clothes had already been speckled with raindrops.

His slightly damp hair fell on both sides of his face, adding a fragile touch to his already attention-grabbing countenance, causing the customers coming to use the internet to subconsciously glance at him.

“Hello, do you have a reservation?”

The on-duty female attendant discreetly pinched herself a couple of times to avoid blushing too much when Jiang Shi shook his head.

Her voice became even softer, “I’m sorry, our cybercafe operates on a membership reservation system. Without a prior booking, we may not have any available virtual cabins for you.”

“It’s quite upscale now,” Jiang Shi casually touched his damp hair, smiling faintly. “No problem, or maybe I can phrase it differently. Is Bi Binghuo here? I’m looking for him.”

“Oh, you know our boss? Please wait here for a moment!” The attendant blushed a little due to his smile and hurriedly went to make the call.

Jiang Shi didn’t mind waiting, and his fingertips lightly tapped the counter to the background music.

Suddenly, there was a burst of cheers from the exhibition hall not far away.

Jiang Shi blinked slowly and followed the sound.

At first glance, he saw the fierce battle for the central holographic projection area.

The [Genesis Century Cup] was in full swing.

This afternoon, the Guild Ranking Tournament for the top eight guilds was taking place, and the results of this competition would determine which teams could qualify for the final of this year’s championship for their respective game guilds.

Many people in the crowd still held information cards.

However, it was clear that, at this moment, they would rather consume their computer time without reservation than miss the heated competition.

Jiang Shi took a quick look at the battle.

Just by observing the player survival status in this match, it was evident that the competition on-site was fierce.

The Night Raiders, ranked 10th, were almost completely wiped out, and their revival countdown was quite pathetic. The more times you die, the longer the revival time, which had essentially cost them their chance to compete.

As a result, the 8th, 9th, and 11th ranked teams had intensified their efforts to score kills.

Their position was relatively far from the BOSS point, so they seemed to have given up on earning significant points from the map BOSS, opting for a more conservative tactic to secure their position in the game.

On the other hand, the final stage of the BOSS battle had also reached a boiling point.

Three out of the four major BOSS in the entire map had already been defeated, with only the Death Hunter Bruce remaining.

He was located near the Icefield area.

The dazzling skills around the scene indicated that the four teams that had arrived were all eager to finish the game before other teams found the BOSS, and the competition was intense.

Among these four teams, the Blood Roses and the Crusaders were in the 1st and 2nd place in the point rankings for this round, while the other two were in 4th and 6th place. However, overall, the point difference between these four teams was not significant. Whoever could kill the Death Hunter Bruce and gain the massive points would undoubtedly take the top spot in the point standings and earn the crucial medal for this round.

Under the siege of the four teams, the boss’s health had dropped to a perilous 30%, and the hatred was temporarily on the Knight of the Blood Roses. However, in the competition for the boss, the situation was always changing, and no one knew what would happen until the end.

The audience nearby engaged in heated discussions.

“Spring God’s healing power is simply incredible. If they can’t take care of him, there’s no way to snatch the hatred from Blood Roses, right?”

“Who’s commanding the Crusaders this round? I don’t know what they’re doing, just roaming the perimeter, trying to score single kills. At this point, those minor point scores don’t make any sense!”

“What do you know? It’s called seizing opportunities!”

“I think they might be trying to delay the cooldown of the other teams. In the final team battle, having fewer troublemakers is also a good strategy.”

“Is that so?”

“But come to think of it, I haven’t seen God Yu. Where is he?”

“Yeah! The Crusaders have been blocking people outside for a long time. It seems like we haven’t seen God Yu for a while!”

…

…

…

“You’re talking about God Yu, as in Yu Weize?”

A group of people stared at the screen, and the sudden voice caught them off guard.

“Yeah, who else?” The audience, who had returned a bit impatient, softened their tone after seeing the speaker’s appearance. “You didn’t know that? Are you new to Genesis? A beginner?”

“I played during the first season, so I’m not exactly a beginner.” Jiang Shi glanced at the intense match on the holographic projection and raised an eyebrow meaningfully. “It’s been about five years, and I didn’t expect Yu Weize to still be playing.”

“That’s right, God Yu has indeed been the ancient deity who has been persisting since the early versions until now! Currently, probably only those few like Spring God have remained on the leaderboards, right?”

Speaking to this point, the audience couldn’t help but click their tongues in nostalgia. “Thinking about it, Blood Roses and Crusaders have been battling it out for a whole five years, real arch-enemies!”

After saying this and noticing that Jiang Shi was silently watching the holographic projection, the speaker continued, “But recently, there have been a lot of old players coming back. The concept of ‘game as reality‘ in Genesis is well-executed, and they’re not shy about marketing. The rewards for returning players are genuinely rich; it’s quite a deal.”

Jiang Shi finally smiled and said, “Indeed, I think so too.”

In the midst of the conversation, the health points of Death Hunter Bruce had dropped below 10%.

Someone in the crowd suddenly shouted, “The BOSS has gone berserk!”

As if it were a signal, the previously relatively peaceful holographic map suddenly became lively.

All four teams at the scene obviously didn’t want to miss this final opportunity. They simultaneously put in their efforts, and a string of kill messages filled the screen.

The dazzling skill effects were interspersed with the berserk attacks of Death Hunter Bruce, creating a chaotic scene.

However, amidst this chaos, Jiang Shi, in a corner that was easy to overlook, caught a fleeting black figure.

A hint of interest appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Silently, the mechanical array had been set up without anyone noticing.

The ID above that character’s head was indeed [Yu Weize] as mentioned earlier.

Positioned at the edge, he didn’t move closer. His straight back remained upright, and under the operation of his mechanical hands, several mechanisms were accurately placed from their initial positions into the crowd.

Avoiding the sweep of the surrounding skills.

Quietly moving, attentively waiting for an opportunity.

Jiang Shi naturally knew what this person was waiting for.

He squinted his eyes slightly, a hint of sharpness not easy to capture in his gaze.

8%, 5%, 3%, 2%, 1%…

The health points of Death Hunter Bruce were about to be depleted. Suddenly, a hand patted Jiang Shi’s shoulder, making his heart skip a beat in the tense environment.

“I thought you were someone else coming to find me, but I didn’t expect you to be back for real!”

Jiang Shi turned around and was hit by a wave of smoke, furrowing his brow.

Before he could respond, the cheers from the surroundings almost brought the roof down.

In that brief interruption, the outcome of the match had already been decided.

Jiang Shi glanced at the point tally on the projection, and he could see that after the Crusaders killed the BOSS, they had pulled significantly ahead of the Blood Roses.

They had secured the first place for this round!

Amid the cheers of the Crusaders’ guild fans, there were a few insults from the Blood Roses’ fans: “Yu Weize, this old schemer, always plotting in the shadows!”

Jiang Shi found it quite amusing.

In fact, this man had become known for his tactical genius five years ago.

He let out a small laugh but didn’t say anything and turned to look at the man in front of him.

With a friendly smile, he said, “Boss Bi, it’s been a long time. I suddenly wanted to play for a while today. Do you have any virtual cabins available?”

“You, you sneaked away without a word back then, and now you’re back to get special treatment from me?” Bi Binghuo said, glancing at Jiang Shi and crushing his cigarette butt. “But according to what Jiang Yan told me, when you went abroad back then, it was for… that.”

He gestured with a pointed finger to the head region, raising an eyebrow. “You also know that I pursued Jiang Yan for years. Now, you come back to use the computer here. If she finds out, won’t she kill me?”

“Don’t worry, if I could come back, it means I’m almost fully recovered. Besides, my sister already has a boyfriend, so you don’t have to keep thinking about her.”

Jiang Shi, with his hands in his pockets, leaned casually against the wall behind him, looking harmless. “Today, I’ll buy a two-hour pass and log in for a while. She won’t find out.”

“I know about her having a boyfriend; I’ve even met the guy in person. You don’t have to specifically come here to twist the knife in my heart.”

Bi Binghuo appeared somewhat conflicted. After a moment of contemplation, he finally clapped his hands. “Alright, Xiao Guo will set you up for two hours! It’s cabin 666 in section E, my reserved spot. Speaking of which, back in the day, you were in section 1… Ah, it’s really a shame that you don’t play anymore.”

Jiang Shi smiled but didn’t respond. He said his thanks and went to the front desk to have the attendant open a pass for him.

The deep gray-themed holographic cybercafe was divided into five sections: A, B, C, D, and E, with the quality increasing as you moved further back. As the owner of the cybercafe, Bi Binghuo naturally reserved the best top-tier virtual cabin for himself. Those who could afford this area either had well-paying real-life jobs or were professional gamers with high demands for virtual cabins.

As Jiang Shi walked towards section E, he couldn’t help but feel a bit nostalgic. Back then, when he and his old buddies were pioneering the game, they could never have imagined that five years later, Genesis would become a globally popular phenomenon.

Now, it not only led electronic sports into the era of full immersion but also spawned a range of peripheral industries dependent on this virtual world for survival.

More and more people were entering Genesis for profit, gradually making this virtual world a second parallel dimension for humanity.

[The game is reality].

Just as the concept presented by Genesis, this holographic game indeed opened up a new era.

However, Jiang Shi didn’t have any other thoughts for the moment. He had just completed a phase of treatment abroad and returned to China. The reason he had this sudden urge to visit this cybercafe not far from home was mainly due to the official invitation message from Genesis sent to all returning old players.

Every two years, there was a major data update, and this year marked the second version change for Genesis. The 3.0 version had opened up new levels and skills beyond the existing framework, and along with the consolidation of all servers, it provided very generous incentives for old players who had quit.

As the cybercafe audience had just mentioned, it was indeed a good time for a comeback.

Jiang Shi skillfully lay down in the virtual cabin, swiped his card, and logged in. Following the system prompt to read his iris, his personal data was successfully entered. He didn’t create a new character but directly activated an account that had been sealed due to inactivity for a long time in the first district.

Confirming login.

As the familiar character modeling appeared before his eyes, a system notification message popped up at the same time:

[Dear Genesis player, it has been 1866 days since your last login to the game. The Returning Player Benefits System has now been successfully activated. With the 3.0 version, all data is shared from the first district to the tenth district. To provide a better gaming experience, all returning players are eligible for one free name change. If not used, you will need to purchase a name change card after your first login. Would you like to use this free opportunity? [Yes] or [No].]

Jiang Shi’s gaze lingered on the choice for a moment. Although a name change card wasn’t too expensive, considering the ‘free gift‘ aspect, it was better to make use of it. He didn’t hesitate too much and chose “Yes.”

One message after another continued to appear:

[Please enter the game ID you want to change to.]

[The game ID you want to change is ‘Material Main Account.’ Are you sure? [Yes] or [No].]

[New ID successfully changed, importing game…]

[Import complete.]

The screen in front of Jiang Shi darkened. Then, as the light returned, a clear system prompt echoed in his mind:

[Welcome back to the Genesis continent.]

Author’s Note:

Here we go, the story begins! It’s been a while since I’ve written my immersive holographic style. All rights for this story are reserved by the author.

PS. About the secondary CP (couple pairing) written at the very beginning, I hope not to ask about it later.

There’s a secondary CP, like the sister and her boyfriend, but I won’t be dedicating separate content to the secondary CP. This should make it clear enough.

TPPMR

The Protagonist Pursues Me Relentlessly – Chapter 1

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Read more: The Protagonist Pursues Me Relentlessly – Chapter 1

[Boss: Your efficiency is too low. I haven’t even calculated the extra time with you yet, and you still want full payment? Dream on! Be careful, I’ll find someone to expose you!]

Late at night, in a small dimly lit rented room, the glow of the screen illuminated Jiang Mo’s eyebrows and eyes. The wrinkles on his forehead deepened, and the light in his eyes gradually faded.

No one could have imagined that he, once standing on the world stage and holding the champion trophy, would end up in such a miserable state.

After winning the championship, Jiang Mo, only 18 years old, was forced to take over as the team captain. He had to deal with the internal struggles within the team, motivate his teammates who were prone to negativity and slacking, and on top of that, endure the long-term burden of training. Before he even turned 20, his hand started experiencing problems, and a few major mistakes in important competitions caused him to fall from grace.

Becoming a God requires enduring countless hardships, while falling only requires simple mistakes.

Jiang Mo was dismissed by the team, and he spent over a year treating his hand injury, but to no avail.

All the money he earned from his fame went towards his treatment. For the sake of making a living, Jiang Mo, who had no other skills, had to take on coaching jobs. He only had four hours of game time per day, exceeding which would cause his hand to ache.

This boss had been urging him all along. The originally agreed-upon deadline was tomorrow, but suddenly the boss said he wanted the account earlier. Jiang Mo had no choice but to exceed his game time and endure the pain in his hand to help the boss advance to the next level.

Jiang Mo’s hand was still resting on the mouse. In the dim light, the pale back of his hand revealed the blue veins. His fingers trembled slightly, a reaction caused by overexertion.

— I didn’t exceed the time at all, you’re just being unfair!

A voice in his mind responded to the boss’s words, and Jiang Mo, enduring the pain in his hand, accepted the 200 yuan the boss deducted.

He couldn’t even afford the rent.

Jiang Mo dared not argue even a word. He was afraid that the other party would really expose him, leaving him with no orders to take or, worse, reveal his identity, which would make no one want to place orders with him.

Jiang Mo took a deep breath, swallowed the pain in his throat, and prepared to find some water to drink. Just as he stood up, a sharp pain struck his sore eyes and brain. His vision blurred, and someone deliberately knocked over the chair, causing Jiang Mo to fall to the ground.

Soothing music echoed in the banquet hall, and the dazzling golden lights almost blinded Jiang Mo. He raised his hand to shield his eyes from the light. Suddenly, his fatigue disappeared, and even his trembling fingers returned to normal.

“Come with me.” Someone suddenly grabbed his wrist, and before Jiang Mo could figure out what was happening, he was pulled into the garden outside the hall.

“Jiang Mo, have you forgotten what I told you? You’re already an adult, so stop acting so childish. I’m not your real mother, and this is not your home. You’re not welcome here.”

A woman’s voice echoed in his ears. The woman in front of Jiang Mo was wearing a beige designer dress, with a white shawl draped over her shoulders. She wore slender high heels and was half a head taller than Jiang Mo, looking down on him.

The disdainful gaze and arrogant attitude of the woman made Jiang Mo uncomfortable. Waves of unfamiliar memories flooded into Jiang Mo’s mind.

In the moment he collapsed in the rented room, Jiang Mo transmigrated and became the despised cannon fodder with the same name as the original protagonist in the book.

The original owner of the cannon fodder role had occupied the identity of the protagonist’s lover for nineteen years, until recently when the true identities of the original owner and the protagonist were exposed. The original owner was kicked out of the Jiang family. Having enjoyed a life of luxury for nineteen years, the original owner was unwilling to live in poverty in the future. He repeatedly caused trouble at the Jiang family, hoping to gain sympathy from Jiang’s parents, but the truth was that the Jiang family had never treated him well. The more he caused trouble, the more others disliked him.

Today was a gathering of the upper class, and the original owner sneaked in.

In the original text, the original owner embarrassed the Jiang family in front of many people, not only earning the Jiang family’s resentment, but also losing face in the industry. When he returned home, he faced retaliation from the Jiang family.

“I’m talking to you, can’t you hear me? I’ve wasted so many years teaching you for nothing!”

Jiang Mo snapped out of his daze, his heart skipped a beat.

That was close. He transmigrated before the original owner caused trouble. Due to his momentary distraction, Jiang’s mother had pulled him out of the banquet hall.

“I, I…” Jiang Mo had been alone in the rented room for nearly a year, and he hadn’t had a conversation with anyone in almost a year. The long period of isolation made him stutter a bit. The hand injury and physical ailments were cured through transmigration, but the speech impediment remained unresolved.

“You’re still so timid. You haven’t made any progress.” Mother Jiang rubbed her temples and impatiently said, “You’ve occupied Xiao Xuan’s life for nineteen years, and you should be content. We’ve never mistreated you before. You should understand the principle of a good breakup, right?”

Lu Xuan, the protagonist of this book.

From an outsider’s perspective, Jiang Mo felt that Jiang’s mother’s words made sense. The original owner had stolen Lu Xuan’s life for so many years, so he should be content.

…

“A Chi, are you leaving already?”

His tall figure was wrapped in a neatly tailored black suit. Chi Yu didn’t like wearing ties, but he always meticulously buttoned up his shirt, sealing in the air of ruthlessness. What was emanating from him was an irresistible sense of restraint and a strong hormonal aura.

With a glimpse from his phoenix eyes, Chi Yu looked at the person speaking, and the combination of his thick black eyelashes and the curve at the corner of his eyes made his gaze particularly penetrating.

“I have something to take care of,” Chi Yu said casually.

Looking at Chi Yu’s inconsistent cold attitude, Gu Rui knew that Chi Yu didn’t enjoy attending these gatherings. He must have been forced by his family to come for blind dates again this time.

Just now, a group of people surrounded Chi Yu at the banquet, and Gu Rui watched nervously from the side, afraid that Chi Yu would lose control of his temper.

Fortunately, Chi Yu didn’t let him down as the ‘Emperor of Acting.‘ He maintained a good image in front of others.

Chi Yu took the coat handed to him by the attendant at the entrance and put it on, blocking the gazes of the people in the banquet hall.

He walked out of the banquet hall with Gu Rui, passing through a small garden on the way to the main entrance. Gu Rui chatted with him about recent interesting events, but Chi Yu responded absentmindedly and lazily.

“Tsk, you’re causing such a fuss just for money?” A woman’s impatient voice interrupted Gu Rui.

Gu Rui looked towards the source of the voice and saw two people standing in a corner obscured by shrubs and flower branches. The woman clearly had the upper hand, and the young man opposite her looked frail. He stumbled through his response to the woman’s question, giving off a submissive vibe at first glance.

“Why is Jiang Mo here?” Gu Rui curiously asked.

They had heard about the recent events in the Jiang family. The fact that they had raised a child for nineteen years who wasn’t their biological child was laughable to outsiders.

Jiang Mo, a very familiar name.

Following Gu Rui’s line of sight, Chi Yu looked towards the corner, and the bright lights from the banquet hall shone through the glass onto the boy’s face.

Not only the name, but even this face was very familiar.

Jiang Mo had participated in a movie starring Chi Yu before. Chi Yu found it difficult to remember the faces of strangers at a glance, but he remembered Jiang Mo.

Not because Jiang Mo was exceptionally good-looking, but because he felt it was a waste. Despite having a naturally beautiful face, his acting skills were terrible. He always couldn’t control his facial expressions in front of the camera, wasting his good looks.

“Ten thousand yuan, is that enough?”

“It… it’s enough.”

“Heh, isn’t it because it’s not enough? Let me tell you, don’t ask for too much…” Mother Jiang’s voice came to an abrupt halt, and his expression instantly stiffened.

Had she misheard?

Ten thousand yuan, how many orders would he have to complete to earn that much money?

Now the other party was voluntarily offering it to him, and as long as he agreed, he could easily get it. Only a fool would refuse.

Afraid that Mother Jiang would go back on her word, Jiang Mo confirmed again, “It’s… it’s enough!”

After saying that, he blinked his beautiful eyes, and his expression seemed unusually docile. If someone didn’t know better, they would think that Jiang Mo was the one causing trouble, not his mother.

Mother Jiang: “…”

Mother Jiang didn’t immediately respond. Jiang Mo began to feel uncertain. Was she going to renege on her promise?

“Ten thousand yuan, pfft! I spent more than that on my ex’s breakup fee. After all, Jiang Mo also earned his family a lot of money. Why is she so stingy?” Gu Rui muttered.

Chi Yu remained silent, staring fixedly at the young man beside the flowers.

The warm yellow light cast a soft golden border on the young man’s profile. The white roses couldn’t overshadow his porcelain-like complexion. His curled eyelashes blinked gently, as if holding back tears. The area around his eyes inexplicably reddened, and his soft lips pressed together, forming a white shadow that then turned into a bright red.

It was as if his eyes had plunged into a bright light, a world away from the lifeless gaze he had before.

Mother Jiang regained her composure, concealing her surprise, and said with a stern face, “You said it.”

Jiang Mo nodded and reached into his pocket, finding his mobile phone.

He held up the phone and asked cautiously, “Um, will you be using Alipay or WeChat?”

Mother Jiang: “…”

“I’ll have my assistant transfer the money to you later.”

Jiang Mo pursed his lips again and looked at his mother with a doubtful gaze.

Would she really not go back on her word?

He had been cheated by several bosses before. If the money wasn’t settled on time, he couldn’t sleep peacefully.

Mother Jiang was furious, her face turning pale. She took out her phone from her handbag and transferred ten thousand yuan to Jiang Mo.

“The Jiang family has done everything for you. If you dare to cause trouble again in the future, don’t blame us for turning our backs on you!”

Jiang Mo happily looked at the additional ten thousand yuan in his account, a satisfied smile appearing on his face. He repeatedly assured, “I… I promise to keep my distance from you.”

Mother Jiang didn’t believe it. “Words alone are not enough. Let’s make a written agreement.”

The mother-son relationship of more than a decade ended up with such an outcome, which would chill anyone’s heart if they heard about it. Jiang Mo didn’t have any extreme reaction. He obediently took the paper and pen handed to him by Mother Jiang’s assistant and signed on it.

“I finally understand why my aunt told me not to have any contact with the Jiang family anymore.” As the person left, Gu Rui continued to sigh.

Chi Yu couldn’t be bothered to listen to his nonsense and got into the car without saying a word.

The black Maybach drove out of the villa area. When it reached a turning point, Chi Yu, sitting in the backseat, suddenly said to the driver, “Stop for a moment.”

The driver obediently pulled the car over to the side of the road.

This area was far from the city center, with few pedestrians. The only shadows on the sidewalk were elongated by the streetlights.

The cold winter wind blew by, causing Jiang Mo to shiver. He tightened the zipper of his down jacket around his neck, and his pointed chin retreated into the collar. When he put on his hat, the soft white fur on the edge of the hat expanded, partially concealing his face. More than half of his face was hidden within his clothes, as if he wanted to merge with the light yellow down jacket.

A hurried sound of footsteps came from the opposite direction, and the sound of breathing echoed above his head. The person stopped in front of Jiang Mo, panting heavily after running a long distance, expelling large puffs of white mist.

Jiang Mo was startled by the sudden appearance of the black figure. He tightly gripped his phone in his pocket.

Did he encounter a robber right after receiving such a large sum of money?

“It’s so late, don’t you know that your family will worry about you?” The person spoke while still gasping for breath, towering over Jiang Mo.

Jiang Mo looked up in a daze and searched his memory to recall the person’s face.

This person was Lu Yu, the biological older brother of the original owner. The original owner didn’t tell anyone about causing trouble at the Jiang family, so how did Lu Yu know he was here?

“What’s wrong with you?” Lu Yu bent down and pushed aside Jiang Mo’s hat, carefully examining his face.

Just when he had finally warmed up a bit, his hat was suddenly lifted, and the cold air invaded once again. Jiang Mo shivered from the cold and the grievances he suffered before he transmigrated into the book flashed in his eyes. A glimmer of tears appeared in his eyes, and the rims of his eyes turned red. His nose also turned red from the cold wind. In the eyes of others, he looked like someone who had been wronged.

“Who bullied you?” Lu Yu asked.

Jiang Mo stuttered, “No, no one…”

Lu Yu felt that Jiang Mo was lying. If he hadn’t been bullied, why would he stutter?

Lu Yu and Lu Xuan had never gotten along since they were young. Their brotherly relationship was just a facade. Having a new brother didn’t matter much to him, but if someone went missing, they had to be found. Otherwise, when their parents asked, he wouldn’t know how to explain.

If Jiang Mo was being bullied, then let him be bullied. Lu Yu didn’t think it was his concern. He was just curious and asked casually. Jiang Mo answered like that, and he couldn’t be bothered to inquire further. His temper was flaring up at the moment. He didn’t do anything today, but he ran so far just to deal with this troublemaker. Could Jiang Mo ever behave properly for one day?

“You went to the Jiang family again, didn’t you?” Lu Yu asked coldly.

Jiang Mo nodded obediently.

Jiang Mo was an orphan who had never experienced the warmth of family since childhood. In the original book, the original owner didn’t get along well with his biological parents and older brother after returning to the Lu family.

In Jiang Mo’s eyes, that was something that would happen in the future.

The fact that Lu Yu came out late at night specifically to find him showed that Lu Yu cared about him.

He had never been cared for like this before.

Lu Yu sneered, “No one values you, why are you so eager? Can’t you behave and stop causing trouble for us?”

Jiang Mo felt that what Lu Yu said was right; the original owner’s actions were indeed unkind.

When the original owner came out, he was wearing a thin hoodie, and even the down jacket was thin. Jiang Mo tightened his neck and exhaled a breath of cold air quietly, “I-I’m sorry.”

The sudden apology from Jiang Mo blocked Lu Yu’s next words. He never expected to hear Jiang Mo apologize.

During the few days Jiang Mo had been at the Lu family, he had witnessed how spoiled Jiang Mo was. How could he possibly apologize?

Afraid of repeating the same mistakes as the original owner and making Lu Yu unhappy, Jiang Mo grabbed Lu Yu’s sleeve and whispered, “I-I won’t go to the Jiang family anymore, Brother. I was wrong.”

Jiang Mo had fair skin, and the cold wind extended the redness on his face. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly, looking especially pitiful.

Lu Yu swallowed and kept his reproachful words to himself.

Nervously biting his lip, Jiang Mo easily formed dimples on both sides of his cheeks. He tightened his grip on Lu Yu’s sleeve. “Brother, c-can we go home?”

He was so cold. He wanted to be in a warm bed.

Lu Yu averted his gaze uneasily, pretending to be impatient. “Fine.”

D*mn, why did Lu Yu find Jiang Mo cute all of a sudden?

From a distance that was neither too far nor too close, the figure of the young man seemed to be no larger than a palm. He was naturally petite, creating a stark contrast with the young man opposite him. The white fur on the edge of his hat lightly brushed against his small face, and his cheeks and nose seemed to have a touch of light blush, making his fair skin even more delicate.

Chi Yu rested his hand on his forehead, his gaze shifting from the young man’s bright eyes to his dimples.

“Let’s go,” he withdrew his gaze and said to the driver.

Author’s Note:

Top: His gaze is different now.

Bottom: Money, a lot of money-$- (From a professional player’s perspective, ten thousand yuan is not a lot. Having experienced hard times, ten thousand yuan is a huge sum in his eyes.)

PS: The bottom is soft, only dominates in games, and has been abstinent for many years, with a mind filled with erotic thoughts. Finally, he has caught a little lamb that has captured his heart. In certain aspects, he can be excessive. Love at first sight is a cliché. After being together, they become cuddly lovers. If you don’t like this type of couple, please refrain from reading.

The bottom is only 19 years old and still has room to grow. With the feeding from the top, he will grow another two centimeters, but that’s about it. The height difference and body proportions are personal charms. Respect each other’s preferences. Don’t dwell on the bottom’s height, please (Please! Thank you!!).

The bottom stutters when speaking, and if you can’t stand the height and stuttering, there’s really no need to force yourself to read. Read the comments section first before reading the story. If you have a preconceived negative opinion, there’s really no need to force it. Let’s be considerate of each other (kneels).

The game is League of Legends (LOL), please don’t scrutinize the game details. Enjoy the story harmoniously. You’re all so adorable.

TTMR

The Top Marksman is Reborn [E-Sports] – Chapter 1

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Read more: The Top Marksman is Reborn [E-Sports] – Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Rebirth

On June 20th, 2018, at 8:30 pm, at Shanghai Jian’an Sports Center, the KPL Spring Split Eastern Finals between TG and DW was taking place.

The current score was 0-2, and the third game was in progress.

[“I can’t believe Lotus God lost with such a good team fight. Was the marksman sleepwalking?” ]

[“77 did okay, it’s mainly the jungle not putting out any damage in team fights while farming the jungle, not sure what he’s doing with the three-way economy. It would be better to let Lotus God take the economy and deal with the enemy’s mid laner,”]

[“Lost three high grounds in fourteen minutes and behind by eight thousand gold…sigh, it looks like this game will be lost as well,”]

[“Are they going to get swept 4-0 by DW?”]

As several ordinary viewer’s voices discussed the game situation without reservation, TG’s manager, Zhang Hui, who was sitting in the front row, stood up with a dark face. No one could have a good mood when their team was playing so poorly. Zhang Hui was so angry that smoke was almost coming out of his head. He decided not to watch anymore and prepared to leave the stand and go back to the rest area.

The substitute players sitting with him on the team bench voluntarily moved their legs to make way for him, and neither of them dared to speak. Zhang Hui, with his beer belly, walked through the aisle with difficulty, and a layer of sweat oozed out of his plump face.

The air conditioning in the venue could not compare with the desktop in the room. He thought, and he was almost leaving without looking back.

The substitute jungle player, Fei Shen, sitting in the opposite position, breathed a sigh of relief.

Wait.

Zhang Hui walked a few steps out and suddenly thought of something, then turned back and looked at the substitute top laner and jungle player and asked suspiciously, “Where’s Clear?”

Clear was a substitute marksman trained by the team from the youth training camp. He was a solitary person in the team, with no acquaintances or particularly powerful background. It was precisely because of this that he was destined to be invisible in TG, and even the manager who didn’t come to watch the game didn’t notice him.

The substitute top laner shook his head awkwardly, “I don’t know either.”

Fei Shen quickly replied, “Me neither.”

“Damn it, where did that stuttering boy go?” Zhang Hui pretended to be indifferent and dropped this sentence, cursing in his heart, then finally turned around and left.

Fei Shen wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and took out his phone from his pocket to inform Clear.

[TG-Fei Shen: The manager left early for the rest area, and he’s very angry now. Be careful and avoid him.]

[TG-Fei Shen: Brother Che, Brother Che, please respond!]

The phone, placed on the table by the owner, vibrated a few times before emitting a low battery warning:

“Attention: The current battery is low and will automatically shut down in 30 seconds. Please charge it in time.”

Fei Shen looked anxious while holding the phone, and the substitute top laner felt nervous. He asked, “Hasn’t Clear replied yet?”

“If he doesn’t reply, I’ll call him… Oh? Why did it shut down?!”

“Oh my god, what should we do now?”

“Damn it, we can only pray for Buddha’s protection…”

On one end, Fei Shen was in a hurry, in sharp contrast to Cheng Che who was calmly catching up on sleep in the innermost part of the rest area.

He had been punished by the coach to practice until 4:30 a.m. last night, and he didn’t feel sleepy after training, so he stayed up all night.

He thought he could catch up on sleep during the day, but everyone got up unusually early due to the Eastern Conference finals last night. He was busy all day without getting any sleep, only getting some free time after sending the starting team to the game.

The thin young man lying on the table had dark circles under his eyes and a pale complexion like paper paste, looking sickly and pitiful.

“Umm…”

He seemed to have had a terrible nightmare, his thin shoulders trembling slightly, unable to sleep soundly.

His right eyelid twitched without warning, as if foretelling the impending disaster.

Squeak, bang–

With the sound of the door opening, a man kicked it open and entered.

“All you know is to sleep. Why didn’t you sleep to death?! Ah?!”

There was a thunderous sound beside him, deafening. Cheng Che frowned slightly but being unusually patient, he didn’t immediately get up to teach the person a lesson.

“Tsk.”

Seeing that he had no response, the man who was swearing in a rough voice felt a little embarrassed when he saw that his face was not reacting at all. “Don’t pretend to be deaf, get up quickly.”

After speaking, he slammed his palm on the table and then kicked the chair that he was sitting on in frustration.

The vibration spread through the table, causing a headache for the person. Cheng Che, who was still half asleep, just opened his eyes and had not yet sat up when the chair was kicked backwards, almost falling off.

“Are you sick?” He was about to curse, but was surprised when he looked up at the man and couldn’t close his mouth.

Isn’t this Zhang Bapi, the manager of the team when he was a substitute player two years ago? How could he be here when he was fired two years ago?

“How…how did you get here?” The unexpected situation in front of him made Cheng Che forget to get angry. He was more curious about why Zhang Hui appeared in the TG team’s locker room before the World Championship finals.

Looking at the dumbfounded expression of this stuttering idiot, Zhang Hui became even angrier, pointing at Cheng Che and scolding him: “I haven’t even asked you how you got here, so how dare you ask me?”

“Even the substitute players have to go to the team bench to cheer for the team, don’t you know that? The team has been feeding you for a year, but all you do is slack off?”

“Your contract expired yesterday. If you want to renew it, you better perform well. Otherwise, get the hell out!”

This made Cheng Che even more confused.

Even the team directors and bosses would not dare to speak to him, the league’s top scorer, like this. How could Zhang Hui, an outsider, dare to do so?

Is it because he has nothing to lose that he’s not afraid of me?

He had a headache.

Cheng Che wanted to call security to “escort” this idiot who was spouting nonsense out, but he was stunned after looking around the environment.

This is not the team locker room. This is…although he didn’t know where he was, it felt strangely familiar.

“Let’s congratulate DW on their victory! They successfully took the third game with ease!”

A clear sentence came from the monitor hanging on the wall behind him, which was used to transcribe the live broadcast of the game. Cheng Che turned his head to look at it. The time in the upper right corner of the screen was June 20, 2018, not 2021.

He rubbed his temples as if he had a headache, trying to remember:

Today is August 28, 2021, the World Championship finals between TG and SYG… he fell down the stairs when he was going up, and he lost consciousness on the spot…

“…”

Damn, did I just die and reborn back to three years ago when I was playing as a substitute?

Cheng Che, who had reacted, looked at his own hands in disbelief. These hands were slender, smooth, and didn’t have the calluses that come from holding devices for a long time, or at least only had a thin layer.

He flexed his fingers curiously. They were very flexible, and they didn’t hurt at all.

This wasn’t a dream. This was real!

“I warn you! Don’t mess around…”

Zhang Hui, feeling short of breath, shouted at the young man who remained silent for a long time and began to move his wrists.

“Coward.”

“Uh-huh.”

A lot of complex emotions filled the blue eyes of the young man, making it hard to tell whether he was happy, sad or angry. Even Cheng Che himself was not clear about it.

He only knew one thing: he didn’t want to stay in this team, not for a single moment.

He didn’t want to endure being treated as a substitute player, being exploited for labor, having his salary withheld, being forced into an unfair contract, being subjected to emotional manipulation and verbal abuse… He had been living like this for two years as a substitute player, and he didn’t want to relive it again.

According to what Zhang Hui had just said, Cheng Che’s contract had expired. Well, that was perfect, he could just leave.

“You… are you saying that my contract has expired?”

“Tsk.”

Seeing that the stutterer had no intention of hitting him, Zhang Hui regained his composure. “I was just speaking in anger. Don’t overthink it. Just be a good boy and be more clever in the future. I can talk to management and see if we can keep you.”

This kind of sugar-coated talk, slapping someone and then giving them a candy, was something Cheng Che was familiar with. It had been useful in the past, but now he just found it laughable.

It was all just a trick to fool children.

Zhang Hui asked tentatively, “Do you think that’s okay?”

Cheng Che opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything.

Bang!

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak, it was just that the sound of the door being kicked in interrupted him. Suddenly, there was chaos in the room. It was clear that members of the starting team had returned.

Fei Shen and the substitute top laner were right behind them. When they saw Cheng Che and Zhang Hui standing together, their hearts almost stopped.

Oh my god, please don’t tell me that Brother Che died…

Fei Shen: “Why are you asking me? Go ask him!”

Due to being pushed all the way back and losing the third game point to the opposing team, everyone’s faces didn’t look too good.

“Bad luck.”

Lava, the jungler, was feeling fiery inside and kicked the chair that Cheng Che had been sitting on.

Who was he trying to show off to?

Cheng Che frowned unhappily, wanting to retaliate but feeling that it was better not to stir up trouble. So he didn’t say anything to him.

Seeing that the situation was getting bad, the marksman Qi Qi quickly came over to support Cheng Che. “Clear, can you help me get a glass of cold water? Thank you!”

“Do you not have hands and feet of your own?”

If it was someone else, Cheng Che would have already spoken up, but since Qi Qi was trying to help him out, he understood.

“Tsk.” Lava glared disapprovingly at Qi Qi but didn’t say anything.

There was a faint smell of anger in the air.

Zhang Hui was always a bully who feared the strong and picked on the weak. In this situation, he didn’t dare to say anything. The chubby assistant who knew Lava’s temper didn’t make a move either. In any case, self-preservation came first.

“…Everyone come over, let’s review the last game.”

In the end, it was the captain who broke the deadlock.

The coach hadn’t returned yet, and they couldn’t just sit around waiting. They had to quickly review the third game.

Lava and Qi Qi obediently went over.

Cheng Che turned around to get a glass of water.

This avoided a potential conflict.

Author’s Note:

Although Cheng Che usually stutters when speaking, he doesn’t stutter when he’s arguing or commanding during a game.

(Don’t ask, my power is from his mother (*￣︶￣))

[Reading Guide]

This is an esports romance story, with not too much description of the actual games.

If you want to read about e-sports games, you can look for works by other great authors (?˙▽˙?)