Chapter 37 Extra – If E-sports
The Pinnacle Spring Playoffs had already begun. According to the tournament schedule, the first match of each day would start at 5 p.m. At the same time, all major live streaming platforms would begin their broadcasts on schedule.
In addition to the official live streams, various platforms also featured streamers who would follow the matches in real time and offer live commentary.
6 p.m., on the Yuyu streaming platform, in the Pinnacle game section.
In this section, the most-watched stream wasn’t the official tournament broadcast, but a personal livestream by someone called “Shi the Jungler.”
It was the break between matches, and Shi Cha—sporting silver-gray hair—was replaying footage from the previous match.
In contrast to his flamboyant and striking appearance, the voice coming from the stream was rough and gruff. Without pulling any punches, he began analyzing the red team’s failure in their final team fight.
“This wasn’t just a mistake from the red team’s jungler—it was pure cowardice. Afraid of being blamed early on, he spent the game loitering around the jungle, doing nothing. He’s just like the LL team’s jungler. I wouldn’t be surprised if the two of them swapped notes in private. To put it nicely, this kind of jungler is playing it safe. To put it bluntly? He’s just scared to fight…”
“Yesterday, the LL team’s jungler didn’t accomplish anything either. They only won because Lin Ran carried. Today, the red team’s jungler chickened out in the backline, leaving their carry exposed and picked off up front. That caused the whole team to collapse…”
[“Brother Shi didn’t just roast SG team—he threw LL’s jungler under the bus too. Truly the most savage mouth in the streaming world.”]
Because “Shi Jungler” sounded like “Shi-ye” (Uncle Shi), and because of Shi Cha’s rugged middle-aged voice, viewers in the stream affectionately—or mockingly—called him “Shi-ye.”
Shi Cha had been streaming for three months, and he frequently dissed players from various pro teams during his streams. Naturally, this drew fans of those teams into his stream to mock or flame him.
As soon as his harsh commentary aired, hate comments began pouring in:
[“Just because you’re reckless, you think every jungler should play like you? Who do you think you are? Playing safe is wrong now? How many games have been lost because of over-aggressive junglers? Shi-ye? More like trash who relies on running his mouth to get views!”]
[“Clown chasing clout with a foul mouth! Not watching anymore—waste of time!”]
Shi Cha glanced at the barrage of comments on screen but didn’t tell the moderators to mute anyone. Instead, he calmly finished analyzing the replay.
Then, he took a sip of water and started clapping back at the haters.
“A jungler who just strolls around the jungle and doesn’t make plays—why is he even playing jungle? He should go hang out at the senior activity center.”
“So nowadays telling the truth means you’ve got a bad mouth? What, if I praise him, he’s suddenly going to win games?”
Just as Shi Cha finished speaking, two new comments floated across the screen:
[“Streamer, have you ever criticized Lin Ran? I want to hear your take on the LL team.”]
[“LL is at the bottom of the standings this season. They’re probably going to get knocked out in the first round of playoffs. Who would’ve thought the former world champions would fall to a third-rate domestic team in just three years? Does Lin Ran even deserve to be called “Ran Shen” anymore? If it weren’t for the other four carrying him back then, he wouldn’t have gotten that world title handed to him on a silver platter.”]
Although Shi Cha’s stream was very popular, it was a mixed crowd—loyal fans of various teams, along with plenty of haters.
Once someone stirred the pot with Lin Ran’s name, the entire comment section suddenly shifted. Some viewers began bashing Lin Ran, saying he was an unworthy captain and that his championship win was undeserved. Naturally, fans of LL and Lin Ran jumped in to defend him.
In an instant, the chat was flooded with back-and-forth arguments.
Shi Cha, who usually ignored the comments, frowned slightly and took action—muting every viewer who bashed Lin Ran.
The chat quieted down for a moment, but soon enough, new troll accounts jumped in:
[“Why did you mute us? Just because we criticized Lin Ran? You really are one of his brain-dead stans.”]
[“Old as you are and still a delusional fanboy—don’t be surprised if you end up with Parkinson’s.”]
[…]
Shi Cha tapped a few keys and muted every user who insulted Lin Ran. But the ones who insulted him personally? He let them stay.
“LL’s poor performance isn’t just one person’s fault—it’s on all five players. If you think one person alone is to blame, do you even understand how to play Pinnacle?”
“After LL won the championship, aside from Lin Ran, the rest of the roster either transferred or retired. The new players obviously need time to build synergy. Do I really need to explain this to you?”
[“Yeah yeah, at the end of the day, you’re still defending Lin Ran. And you say you’re not his fanboy?”]
Shi Cha raised an eyebrow and replied calmly,
“Lin Ran is still ranked the world’s number one mid-laner—that’s just a fact. What’s wrong with me admiring someone like that?”
“Besides, even though LL’s ranking isn’t high right now, it’s clear that the new bot lane duo has been showing better and better synergy this season. If they just swap out their jungler, winning the championship isn’t out of the question.”
…
At the same time, over at the LL team base…
Lin Ran was sitting in front of his computer, watching Shi Cha’s livestream. The team manager had dragged over a chair and was sitting beside him.
Hearing the rugged middle-aged voice coming from the stream, Lin Ran turned his head and asked, “This is the jungler you mentioned?”
The manager quickly explained, “Don’t be fooled by the rough voice—it makes him sound much older. I specifically asked someone to check with the platform. According to his registered information, he’s only 19. Just the right age—prime time for an esports player.”
Since Shi Cha had signed a contract with the platform, his real identity had been recorded.
“Plus, his skills have been acknowledged by a lot of pro players. Because of his trash talk, he’s mocked quite a few of them. Some of those players even secretly created alt accounts to either duel him or team up with him. There’s no doubt about his level. I had the coaching staff review a bunch of his videos—his jungle pathing and decision-making are very clear. His ideas can be a bit unorthodox and aggressive, but paired with you, it might be a perfect fit.”
Seeing Lin Ran silently watching the screen, the manager continued, “A few teams have already tried approaching him, but he rejected them all outright. I get the feeling he’s your fan, so I thought maybe you should be the one to reach out.”
Lin Ran nodded.
This streamer had a sharp and accurate take on the situation. LL’s current state was indeed just as he had described. Their previous jungler had been benched this season due to injuries, and the current one was originally a substitute.
Probably because LL had once been world champions, everyone on the team was afraid to make mistakes, afraid of getting flamed by fans. The jungler in particular played overly cautiously. No matter how many times the coaching staff or Lin Ran, as captain, talked to him, the problem remained unchanged.
On top of that, the jungler’s contract was about to expire, and he’d been dragging his feet on renewing it—clearly thinking about jumping ship. LL urgently needed a new jungler—someone with fire and initiative.
“Alright, I’ll talk to him.”
Lin Ran pulled his chair closer and started typing, opening the game client and sending a friend request to “Mr. Shi.”
Since the next match hadn’t started yet, Shi Cha had nothing to do and his game client was already open.
Suddenly, he heard the ding-ding-ding notification sounds.
At the same time, a mocking comment popped up in chat alongside the friend request.
[“Oh please—like swapping you in would get the team a championship? You can you up! No can no BB! You probably can’t even get through LL’s front door!”]
And then came the message:
[Hi, I’m Lin Ran from LL. Can we chat?]
Lin Ran was using his official LL team account—easy to verify and impossible to fake. There was no way this was a scam.
The moment that message appeared, the chat exploded with question marks:
[“????????”]
Someone had just finished saying Shi Cha would never even get close to LL’s front door, and now LL had reached out to him directly.
That slap in the face came fast, didn’t it?
When Shi Cha saw the message, his heart skipped a beat.
If it had been any other team or any other player reaching out, he would’ve turned them down without hesitation.
But this was Lin Ran.
So Shi Cha simply said to his viewers, “That’s it for today’s stream.”
Then he immediately shut off the stream, giving the audience no time to react.
As the screen went black, viewers were left full of confusion.
[“He’s not seriously going to join LL, is he?”]
[“Is LL really planning to make a comeback and go for the championship again?”]
[“Talk is cheap. Anyone can brag.”]
Shi Cha ignored the ongoing chatter in the livestream chat. He cleared his throat and carefully typed out a message: [Hi, I’m Shi Cha. Happy to chat. Open to anything. Free of charge.]
Sincere—yet just a little cheeky.
Lin Ran: “…”
[We’ve watched a lot of your videos and think your skills are solid. Would you be willing to come try out for LL?]
The team manager was a little nervous. As far as he knew, this streamer Shi Cha had already turned down offers from eight teams—including second-tier teams. He wasn’t sure if Lin Ran’s name would actually make a difference.
Soon, a message came back from Shi Cha: [Sure. But first, can I ask—does your team forbid dating?]
Lin Ran and the manager both froze.
They hadn’t expected his first question to be about relationships.
Did he already have someone?
After a brief pause, Lin Ran started typing his reply.
[Relationships are allowed. Our team is pretty flexible—as long as it doesn’t interfere with training or matches.]
Shi Cha replied almost instantly:
[Perfect. So, when’s the tryout? Tomorrow? I’ll just bring my luggage and head over. If I pass, I can move in right away—saves me from running back and forth.”
The manager sighed, “He’s really confident—like he already knows he’ll pass the tryout.”
Lin Ran, however, remained calm.
“You’re all satisfied with him, and a few other teams are fighting over him. He knows exactly what he’s worth. The tryout is just a formality at this point. Alright, get ready to pick him up tomorrow morning.”
With that, Lin Ran pushed back his chair and headed to the equipment room for some training.
…
The next morning at 9 a.m., Shi Cha arrived at LL’s training base right on time.
Manager Chu personally came out to greet him.
Lin Ran hadn’t planned on coming out to meet him, but the rest of the team—who had been dragged out of bed early for morning training—saw the chance to avoid it and all insisted on going to “check out the new guy.”
So besides Manager Chu, the other five team members were all waiting in the lobby.
When Manager Chu walked in with Shi Cha—sporting his signature silver-gray hair and a confident, striking appearance—everyone was stunned.
“Wait… wasn’t he supposed to be a burly guy with a full beard? Chen Lu, your intel was way off!”
Shi Cha didn’t seem nervous at all. He casually waved and greeted the group,
“Hey there.”
Some esports players were chatterboxes—like Chen Lu, their top-laner—but quite a few weren’t very talkative.
Faced with Shi Cha’s enthusiasm, the team looked a bit overwhelmed.
“Uh… hi.”
If you didn’t know better, you’d think Shi Cha was the one hosting them.
After greeting the others, Shi Cha walked straight over to Lin Ran.
He looked up at him with a bright smile.
“Lin Ran, since LL doesn’t forbid players from dating… then may I ask—”
He paused on purpose, then grinned even wider.
“Can I be your boyfriend?”
is it just me?
why do i feel like I jump to alternate world,
where shi cha become not anti social??