WTYB CH 4

Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Does he have a chance to stand next to that person?

Xu Jianhai’s text message made Xu Du give up the idea of ​​ordering takeout. Exhausted, he threw his phone on the table and closed his eyes to take a short breath.

Time quickly came to 1 p.m., and just a few seconds after Xu Du logged on, a message from “Self-Isolated Little Mushroom” popped up.

[Private Chat] Self-Isolated Little Mushroom: Master, you’re here!

Before Xu Du could reply, the self-isolated little mushroom sent a team invitation.

[Team] Self-Isolated Little Mushroom: Let me make this clear first, I can only play support!
[Team] Self-Isolated Little Mushroom: My friend helped me level up this account; I’m really bad at playing.
[Team] Self-Isolated Little Mushroom: If I mess up, don’t blame me! (Little Fox trembling)^[1]

Xu Du glanced at the messages and replied.

[Team] Eclipse: No cursing or blaming, let’s start.
[Team] Self-Isolated Little Mushroom: Okay!

“Ding-dong—” The sound effect of a successful game match rang out, and the interface entered the hero selection box.

“self-isolated little mushroom” wandered back and forth between the hero interfaces of several support heroes, and finally locked on Yuumi, the cat curled up on the magic book.

With its adorable appearance and easy-to-use controls, Yuumi the Magical Cat has become a favorite among many female players.

Compared to other heroes, its skill mechanics are simpler, and its unique possession mechanic allows it to follow teammates throughout the game, providing shield support and healing assistance.

But Jiang Xian’s magical cat with the punishment icon above its head is destined to be different.

The team’s ADC is going crazy, sending three messages in a row.

[Team] My life is so miserable: Support, you brought the wrong skill!
[Team] My life is so miserable: Support, bring Weakness!!
[Team] My life is so miserable: Support, replace Smite with Weakness!!!

The more exclamation marks he added, the more unsettled he became.

Seeing that “Self-Isolated Little Mushroom” still ignored him, with only ten seconds left in the game countdown, the ADC finally couldn’t hold back and yelled into the microphone, “Support, you fucking brought smite^[2] as your skill! Change your skill!!!”

The moment the roar echoed through the VOR team’s training room, Tang Li, sitting next to Jiang Xian, nearly shoved a bottle of mineral water up his nose.

The keyboard typing in the entire training room suddenly stopped, and heads popped out from behind the other four monitors.

Fang Zhengming, the top laner sitting behind Jiang Xian, was the first to recover from his shock and said, “Wow, even noise-canceling headphones can’t block out that voice…”

“It’s definitely the ADC who broke down.” Tang Li wiped the water splashed on his chin and stretched his neck to look at Jiang Xian’s screen, “I want to see which support, that silly goose, made the ADC break down like this.”

Tang Li abruptly stopped speaking, not daring to utter the rest of his words.

On the screen, the magical cat Yuumi was wagging its tail with the Smite icon above her. Tang Li mechanically turned to look at her captain, who slowly said, resting his chin on his hand, “What are you talking about, little support? Go on.”

Tang Li’s Adam’s apple bobbed twice, and he tactically leaned back and slid back into his seat, “Haha… ah! I suddenly remembered that we haven’t reviewed the training match footage yet, Captain, please continue!”

The team captain shifted his gaze from Tang Li back to the screen. Just then, a new message popped up on the game interface.

[Team] Eclipse (Frost Witch): Lie down, a guaranteed win.

Jiang Xian paused slightly on the keyboard, then suddenly chuckled, “Pretty arrogant, huh?”

After the game started, Xu Du, controlling the Frost Witch, steadily suppressed the opponent in the mid lane. Whenever the enemy jungler tried to gank, he would always detect it in advance and counter-gank. Although Jiang Xian’s Yuumi was causing trouble everywhere while under the effects of Smite, he always managed to coordinate perfectly with Xu Du’s rhythm.

Ten minutes in, Xu Du had already secured three kills and was far ahead in equipment. He calmly directed his teammates to control the dragon and push towers, continuously expanding their advantage.

The ADC went from initially grumbling and complaining to eventually keeping quiet and helping out with assists. Ultimately, led by Xu Du, they easily destroyed the enemy’s crystal.

The game ended, and Xu Du’s Frost Witch won the MVP with a score of 12/0/5^[3].

In the second game, Xu Du’s LeBlanc secured two solo kills before reaching level six, while Jiang Xian’s Lulu roamed all three lanes with him throughout the game. Less than twenty minutes later, the enemy’s Nexus exploded again, and Xu Du’s score remained at 11/1/8.

In the third game, Xu Du’s Zed made seven kills and seven escapes in the Rift, while Jiang Xian’s Yuumi clung to him, showering him with praise. At the end of the game, Xu Du’s 15/0^[4] score prompted a frenzy of friend requests in the team chat.

An hour passed in the blink of an eye, and Xu Du’s phone notification bar popped up with a transfer notification from “Self-Isolated Little Mushroom”.

He stared at the number for two seconds, and unusually, he took the initiative to send a message to someone else.

[Private Chat] Eclipse: You transferred 100 more than the payment. Send me your payment code and I’ll return the money to you.

The message was sent and the other party replied immediately.

[Private Chat] Self-Isolated Little Mushroom: Master, there’s no need to return it!
[Private Chat] Self-Isolated Little Mushroom: You played so well! Can I subscribe for a month?

Monthly subscription? Xu Du was taken aback. Although his skills were enough to crush most high-level games, his taciturn personality made most bosses hesitate, and long-term contracts were even rarer.

[Private Chat] Eclipse: Sure, what time each day?
[Private Chat] Self-Isolated Little Mushroom: My schedule isn’t always available.
[Private Chat] Self-Isolated Little Mushroom: How about we exchange contact information, and I can schedule a time with you on Green Bubble when I want to play?
[Private Chat] Eclipse: Okay.

Xu Du sent a screenshot of the green bubble QR code to the chat box, and soon a friend request popped up.

The other person’s WeChat name was simply the character “限” (Xian), and their profile picture was completely black, a stark contrast to the “self-isolated little mushroom” in the game who filled the screen with “da” and “ya”^[5]. Xu Du felt a strange sense of disconnect.

Xd: I’m logging off now. Message me if you want to make plans.
Xian: Okay.

…It was indeed his imagination; it was still that familiar taste.^[6]

Xu Du turned off the screen; staring at the monitor for so long had made his eyes sore and swollen. He got up, walked through the smoke-filled lobby, grabbed the cheapest pack of Hongtashan cigarettes from the front desk, and pushed open the glass door.

The post-rain sunlight, carrying the faint warmth of early winter, fell down. Having stayed in the dimly lit private room for a long time, Xu Du squinted uncomfortably in the sudden light.

“Zu’an Internet Cafe” is located at the entrance of a bustling alley. It was the weekend, and the street was filled with all kinds of stalls.

The sweet aroma of roasted chestnuts mingled with the sizzling scent of oil from the pancake stall, filling the air. A sudden, dull pain in his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten for almost twenty hours.

Xu Du walked up to the nearest fried rice stall. The owner, who was in his forties, was stirring up the golden rice with a spatula. When he saw Xu Du coming over, he asked in a loud voice without looking up, “What do you want to eat?”

“I’d like an egg fried rice,” Xu Du replied.

Around 2:30 PM, only two delivery guys were wolfing down their rice at the stall. The oil in the wok was still sizzling, and the owner had already deftly plated the fried rice and walked to the table where Xu Du was sitting.

He glanced at Xu Du’s thin frame and slightly pale face, put the plate on the table, and couldn’t help but say, “Eat more, you’re so thin.”

Xu Du unpacked the disposable chopsticks and whispered a thank you. The owner didn’t leave immediately, but wiped his hands on his apron. “Don’t be willful just because you’re young. Eat your meals on time.”

He pointed to Xu Du’s prominent wrist bone, “My eldest son is probably only a few years older than you. Every time he comes back, he eats three bowls of rice at every meal. He’s grown very strong.”

The steam from the fried rice blurred Xu Du’s vision. He lowered his head and took a bite, the salty and savory flavor spreading across his tongue. Seeing that he was eating so quickly, the owner turned around and ladled out a bowl of seaweed soup, placing it beside him. “It’s free, eat slowly so you don’t choke.”

Xu Du was never good at dealing with such enthusiasm, so he could only whisper a thank you again. The boss, however, didn’t mind his silence and continued talking to himself.

“Speaking of my eldest son, you gamers should all know him!” The boss’s tone was filled with undisguised pride. “He plays mid lane in that team called VO something, and he earns tens of millions a year!”

Upon hearing the familiar team name, Xu Du suddenly stopped eating. “Is it VOR?”

“Yes, that’s the name!” the boss continued. “But my son said he might not be able to play next year. My son is already 23, which is considered a veteran in their line of work.”

Xu Du stared at the oil droplets on the rim of the bowl to mask the turmoil in his heart.

There are only a handful of star players who can earn tens of millions a year. He had been following that person for three years and had watched almost every live broadcast of his matches. How could he not recognize the other top players of VOR?

VOR’s mid-laner, Chen Ping, is also the oldest among VOR’s top players. He is known for his solid fundamentals and almost unbeatable steady playstyle, earning him the nickname “Mid-lane Security Door” from fans.

However, with each version update, new heroes with extremely high skill ceilings have been introduced one after another, and Chen Ping’s steady and reliable style has gradually become tiresome.

Another customer arrived at the stall, and the owner grabbed a shovel and rushed towards the new customer. Xu Du took out his phone, opened the forum, and slowly typed “Chen Ping” into his fingertips.

The first thing that catches the eye is a trending post highlighted in red, “VOR veteran Chen Ping’s hands frequently trembled during the World Championship!”

The post included a high-definition video. At the crucial moment of the decisive team fight, Chen Ping’s Orianna suddenly froze—in a close-up shot, his right hand was uncontrollably trembling, causing his ultimate ability to be delayed by half a second. It was this mistake that ultimately led to VOR’s defeat.

The comment section below the video is already a bloodbath.

[First Floor] This reaction speed is slower than my internet speed. Retire already, stop hogging the job!
[Second Floor] Can you trolls get lost?! Three years ago, when Chen Ping used Clockwerk to pull off a 3-man comeback, you guys were probably playing in the mud somewhere.
[Third Floor] You yourself said it was three years ago. Look at how Chen Ping is playing now!
[Fourth Floor] Being bad in esports is the original sin. Can nostalgia put food on the table?
[Fifth Floor] It’s normal for professional players to have ups and downs. Everyone has a slump. Keyboard warriors, on the other hand, are always on top.
[Sixth Floor] With this kind of performance, he’s still a starter? VOR might not even get a World Championship ticket this year.

Rumors about Chen Ping’s retirement were rampant in the posts, but as long as the official statement remained silent, these were ultimately just baseless speculations.

Xu Du lowered his eyes.

If Chen Ping really retires, then wouldn’t he… have the opportunity to stand next to that person?

The black-haired youth curled the corners of his mouth slightly, and all the sounds around him seemed to disappear, leaving only a tiny electric current running up his spine, giving him a tingling, exhilarating sensation all over his body.

But he ruthlessly extinguished the thought as soon as it surfaced. Xu Jianhai’s curses seemed to echo in his ears once more. “What future can someone like you have?”