Author: Gǎng wénmíng shù xīnfēng (港文明树新风)
Synopsis:
The esports world is going wild.
The powerhouse team AVG just signed newcomer [Unique]—
Wait, isn’t that the entertainment streamer who became famous for hiding his points?!
Weibo instantly crashed:
[Top Comment]: [Did the AVG manager get kidnapped? Is the Steel Gun team poaching Lao Liu?!]
[Second Comment]: [Solve hates Voldemort players the most—he’s just waiting for this small streamer to get kicked out of the base. #candle#]
[Third Comment]: [I bet a bag of spicy noodles that Unique will win his debut match. #funny#]
But everyone forgot to check his smurfs!
When Ji Wei 1v4-ed an entire squad and swept MVP in the finals—
Netizens: Where did you buy those cheats?!
Anti-fans: We agreed to hide our strength together, but you’ve been secretly grinding weapons. No respect for martial arts!
Ji Wei (well-behaved.jpg): It’s just luck ^_^
Meanwhile, the team manager’s head has been pounding.
[Solve] Yin Sijue—AVG’s captain and ace striker—is infamous for despising players who hide their stats.
And the newcomer, Unique, is a master-level “Voldemort” player. Naturally, the two don’t get along.
The manager was all set to step in and mediate—
Until one night, he pushed open the training room door and froze.
Under the dim light, his captain had the newcomer pressed against the computer case, kissing him. The rookie clutched his jersey, eyes red.
Manager: “…”
Okay… no need for mediation anymore.
Wait—this might be an even bigger problem!
A day later, shocking news broke during a livestream, and Weibo exploded with questions:
– Why is Solve always showing up in Unique’s bed at night… oh, wait, I mean in the dormitory?!
[AVG Official Blog (Play-Dead Version): Don’t ask. The only thing I’m asking is: Excellent Coaching Performance in the Team :)]
[Character Setup]
Cat-like gunman—sweet on the outside, claws bared at enemies × Publicly aloof, privately manipulative—Jealous Assault.
[Reading Guide]
A PUBG esports story. Knowing the game isn’t required, but it might enhance the fun. Some maneuvers are literally inhuman.
Expect identity reveals—no spoilers here.
Livestream / forum / team voice-chat–style public executions included.
Tournament formats and schedules are fictionalized for plot purposes.
_________
“Doesn’t the captain hate Lao Liu the most?”
“Yeah.” Yin Sijue pinched someone’s neck. “So you can only hide in my arms.”
“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.Games
The livestream, titled
“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:Battle Royale Games
“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.Books & Literature
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!”]Games
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 :
“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.
AVG base, training room.
Rainy afternoons always make people lazy. AVG’s starting member, Da Shu, a young boy who couldn’t get enough sleep even after ten hours a day, had just finished making a cup of instant coffee in the tea room and was about to return to training.
Passing by the captain’s camera, he subconsciously glanced at him.
“What’s wrong, brother? You look down.”
The man in front of the computer propped his head up with one hand. His nose was high, his lips thin. His clear eyes reflected the screen’s glow, exuding an icy chill.
“I met a jerk—and he even got me.”
“Huh? Who’s that?”
Yin Sijue clicked on the battle results list and saw the name.
“Wow! That’s Unique?! You ran into him?”
The man glanced at his teammate, sensing his surprise was genuine.
“You know him?”
“Of course! He’s the top PUBG streamer on Maoyu TV,” Da Shu said, sipping his coffee. “But he’s always played super defensively. All his points come from camping. His actual skills must be awful.”
Yin Sijue nodded in agreement. Thinking of the boy’s nervous, trembling voice, he added:
“Not only are his skills poor—he’s probably also pretty timid.”
…
Bang!
A door slammed in the hallway. AVG’s team manager, Xu Shaoqiu, stormed in and dropped a pile of documents on the table.
“Kelly walked out on us,” he declared angrily.
“Huh?” Mi Li, AVG’s aggressive offensive player with a quick temper, shot back. “Didn’t we agree on a one-season contract during the tryout? Did you go back on your word?”
Kelly had been a hot prospect in this year’s transfer window. Debuting just last year, he had already won several regular-season MVP awards, averaging at least five kills per game. Fans nicknamed him Steel Cannon Little K.
“UGC’s offer is higher. From what I’ve heard, it’s double what we put on the table. Besides, he’s the Spring Split champion. If I were Kelly, I’d choose UGC too.”
“Did UGC win the lottery? How can he be worth that much?”
“There’s nothing we can do. Everyone’s short on talent right now. All the teams are struggling with a generational gap,” Xu Shaoqiu said, rubbing his brow as he sat on the sofa. “We’ll just have to find another candidate.”
“The Summer Split isn’t far off. What are we supposed to do?”
“It’s fine. The team will figure something out. Just train hard.”
After resting a moment on the sofa, Xu Shaoqiu got up, ready to head upstairs for a meeting with the coaching staff. On the way, he passed by Da Shu’s camera station, he noticed a live broadcast of Weitaming on the screen.
On the screen, Ji Wei was staring blankly at [ysjduckduck123]’s profile, his expression strikingly similar to the Psyduck in the profile picture.
“Why are you watching Unique’s stream?”
“Brother Qiu, do you know Unique too? The captain had a fight with him, so I was watching for a bit. He just finished playing with the captain and hasn’t started the next game yet, so I don’t know what he’s doing.”
Da Shu leaned closer to the livestream for a moment, then suddenly shouted:
“Oh my god, Captain, isn’t that your smurf? Why’s he watching for so long? Is he trying to stream-snipe you?”
Yin Sijue skillfully controlled his character to finish off a squad. He glanced casually at the livestream and scoffed.
“Whatever. Let him wait.”
…
“That’s all for today’s livestream. I’m signing off. Bye.”
After bidding farewell to his viewers, Ji Wei typed Solve Match Highlights into the video platform’s search bar and began watching them one by one.
When he saw Yin Sijue’s spectacular one-versus-four performance at the PUBG Global Championship two years ago, Ji Wei’s heart pounded. His mind, along with the barrage of fan screams, buzzed with excitement.
The match had reached its final stage: all three AVG members had been killed by the team guarding the bridge. Solve was left alone, with only 30 rounds left in his AKM and an M24 sniper rifle, facing SOP—the in-form Korean team. The two commentators, their voices heavy with despair, had already begun consoling the audience.
In the game, Yin Sijue calmly crouched behind a container, calculated his position, and lobbed three grenades forward.
The first grenade knocked down just one player. The opponents quickly pinpointed Solve’s location and rushed forward to engage. Hearing footsteps, Yin Sijue immediately fell back. Then the second and third grenades exploded—another SOP player dropped to the ground.
He had thrown the grenades right into the path of the SOP members charging at him!
The remaining two players were already weakened. Yin Sijue turned to face them. Instead of pulling out his rifle, he raised the M24. While strafing back and forth, he landed two clean headshots, wiping out SOP and securing the win.
At that final moment, the entire crowd—whether AVG fans or not—erupted in thunderous cheers. A cloud of golden ribbons descended on the champion’s shoulders. Solve, dazzling under the world’s spotlight, shone with boundless brilliance.
After this match, Yin Sijue earned the nickname Solve the Gunner. Fans joked that those two bullets had pierced straight into their hearts, leaving them gasping in despair.
Ji Wei watched until the end, then scrolled back and replayed the instant where Yin Sijue landed the final sniper shots.
The two commentators, already screaming at the top of their lungs, shouted in the replay:
“I never thought Solve would deliver such a performance in this desperate situation!”
“In a moment like this, only absolute confidence would make him pull out the M24!”
…
It wasn’t exceptional.
Ji Wei rubbed his fingers over the game character on screen, his heart tightening at the flood of praise Solve had received.
So he’s already this good.
The boy lowered his head and wiped his face, then opened WeChat to search for something else. His eyes landed on the Psyduck avatar on his account—the same one Solve had teased the audience with during the livestream.
He stared at it for a long time, his eyes slowly reddening.
…
The weather this year was strange. It was only early June, yet the heat in Haicheng was already unbearable.
Da Shu, sprawled across a table like a dying dog, stuck out his tongue and complained:
“Lao Ma, you okay? I’m dying here.”
“Hey, just use the small fan. The doctor said I can’t catch a cold while applying this medicine. We’ll turn on the AC later.”
Lao Ma—known in-game as Hippo—was the oldest active player on AVG, serving as the team’s sniper and gunner. Years of competition had left him with lingering injuries in his hands and back. He had planned to retire honorably last year, but because the team couldn’t find a suitable replacement, he was forced to stay another season. Now, with new injuries piling onto the old, his body was struggling to keep up.
“Alright, alright!” Da Shu groaned as he got up, grabbed two Green Tongue popsicles from the freezer, and slowly sucked on one in front of the fan.
“Why hasn’t the captain come down yet?”
“Probably still asleep. He’s the only one here who insists on taking naps. Doesn’t act like an esports kid at all.”
Just then, the sound of clapping came from upstairs. Brother Qiu’s voice carried down from the second floor:
“Meeting upstairs! Lao Ma, put on some clothes. The AC’s already on in the conference room.”
The group trudged upstairs, where they found Yin Sijue already seated beside Mi Li.
“What’s up, Brother Qiu? Lao Ma hasn’t finished his medicine yet,” Da Shu said, clutching his drooping popsicle in both hands.
“The PCL Summer Tournament is coming soon. We need to finalize new players quickly.”
Mi Li turned to the coach. “Kelly’s really not coming?”
“No. He rejected me this morning—said he looked forward to meeting me at the tournament.”
“Wow, what a shameless guy! Cancels on us and then throws in a sarcastic jab?” Da Shu exploded.
“UGC’s weakness in offense has already been patched up now…”
Mi Li muttered with a sigh, “Whatever. I never thought he was that good anyway.”
Brother Qiu frowned. “Alright. The decision is to let Wolf, the second team’s captain, take over for now. At the same time, we’ll expand the youth training squad and see if any promising players come up.”
He sighed again. “I know Wolf’s rhythm doesn’t quite match yours, but we don’t have a choice at the moment.”
“Brother Qiu, you make it sound like we’re doomed.”
“Get lost! The only doom here is your popsicle dripping all over the conference room!”
After the laughter subsided, Xu Shaoqiu’s tone turned serious.
“The publicity department has already posted the recruitment notice. Tonight, you two need to record a pre-release video together.”
“Also, the trainees and the second team will be living in the building next to ours. Sometimes we’ll train and eat together. So stop wandering around smoking and swearing—you’ll be a bad influence on the kids.”
“Come on! We’re just recruiting young trainees. What is this, a nursery? My profanity hasn’t offended anyone.”
“Are you arguing with me again?!”
“You said it yourself!!!”
Xu Shaoqiu took a deep breath. “Wolf will be moving in a few days. Let’s go out for dinner tonight. You can get back to practice now.”
…
The group returned to the training room.
“Captain, want to duo queue?” Da Shu asked.
Yin Sijue had been roused by the noisy meeting, but the moment he sat down, drowsiness crept back in.
“You go first. I’ll fish around on my smurf account.”
The moment he logged in, a flood of friend requests filled the platform.
It seemed word of yesterday’s clash with the streamer had gotten out.
He glanced over the list, ready to clear it, when he spotted a request from someone named [unique].
Yin Sijue raised an eyebrow—it seemed to be the same streamer he’d faced yesterday.
Thinking back to the boy’s timid in-game voice, he clicked his mouse and rejected all the requests.
…
“Hello everyone! Today’s another happy day of surviving.”
Ji Wei had spent the entire night binging Solve’s gameplay highlights. Even so, faint bruises lingered under his eyes when he went live.
To spice up the stream, he tried a challenge run—surviving without weapons—and somehow pulled out a win using nothing but dozens of potions.
“Don’t try this yourself,” Ji Wei warned his viewers after the match. “This is just my alt—it’s only Platinum. I can’t match into top players here. In high-ranked games you’ll just die without a gun.”
[“So exciting. By the time three of us were left, I forgot to breathe.”]
[“Watch the replay after that second-place clutch: 6”]
“Do you guys want to see more of this?” Ji Wei asked, queueing up another round. “There’s really no skill to surviving in this tier. Otherwise, next time—”
Ding-dong! A notification chimed from his phone:
[AVG-SOLVE, the streamer you follow, is live~]
Yesterday, he’d followed all of Yin Sijue’s accounts and even switched his phone—usually on silent—over to vibrate with notifications, just so he’d catch updates the moment they dropped.
Seeing the alert, he clicked into the stream and, with the same speed he’d shown sliding into the circle, slipped on his Bluetooth headphones.
[“What do you mean? Do you think I’m blind?”]
[“Putting on headphones the second your phone rings? You’re not talking to your partner, are you?”]
[“Not wearing gaming headphones anymore? Think you’re too good for Platinum?”]
“Nonsense! I’m not dating!” Ji Wei quickly denied the rumor, then hurriedly covered it with a lie. “I… I was just listening to a song and took them off after parachuting.”
…
“I logged off after two games on my alt,” a man’s deep voice came through the headset. “I’m just streaming to kill some time.”
Perhaps because he was only wearing one earbud, Yin Sijue’s voice felt like a whisper directly in Ji Wei’s ear, making him extra sensitive. His head tilted unconsciously toward the sound.
“Let’s play the island map now,” he heard Yin Sijue say.
The next moment, millions of viewers watched Ji Wei instantly quit his match, switch accounts, climb back to Ace rank, and select the island map to start a new game.
[“?? Weren’t you going to do another no-loot run?”]
[“Not playing Sanhok anymore? Isn’t the Rainforest the best place to hide?”]
Ji Wei ignored the barrage of comments, focused only on syncing his queue with Yin Sijue’s.
In the first attempt, there was no crash, but Ji Wei played distractedly, his face full of suppressed frustration. Before long, his screen went gray.
Even after being knocked out, he didn’t log off—instead, he spectated his teammates while waiting for Yin Sijue’s match to end.
Chat grew convinced the mysterious message was from his girlfriend, spamming the screen relentlessly.
[“He’s been distracted this whole time. Why not just quit and go keep your girlfriend company?”]
[“What’s the point of watching your teammate’s potato gameplay?”]
“I really don’t have a girlfriend… Fine, fine, I’ll stop watching. Let’s play another round.”
As soon as he saw Yin Sijue had finished his game, Ji Wei rushed into another match.
But three times in a row, he failed to queue into the same lobby—not even as an opponent.
Is there some kind of stream delay?
Frustrated, Ji Wei slammed [Start Game] a few seconds earlier for the fourth attempt.
As the game loaded, his eyes shot to the top left corner—teammate number one was [ysjduckduck123].
Ahhhhh—
He’d met him! Against all odds, he’d actually queued in with him!!
Ji Wei quickly closed Yin Sijue’s stream to avoid distraction, straightened up, and even smoothed his messy bangs for the camera.
He looked as if he were about to sit an online job interview.
[“Am I seeing this right? Teammate number one is Solve??”]
[“Another crash incoming??”]
[“?! Dual-queuing here—I just realized the streamer was actually trying to snipe Solve??”]
Ji Wei ignored the barrage of comments, struggling to control the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He turned on the microphone and asked, “Where are we dropping?”
On the other side, Yin Sijue heard a voice that sounded oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
Glancing at the comments, he noticed chat was already buzzing—it looked like the same Lao Liu he’d run into yesterday.
[“This streamer’s sniping you! Been stalking you forever.”]
[“Isn’t this the one who admitted a crush on Solve on Weibo yesterday?”]
[“My husband is so handsome~”]
“Airport,” Yin Sijue said, marking a yellow dot on the map without hesitation. He added casually, “There’s not much cover there. Think you can handle it?”
“…,” Ji Wei choked at the sarcasm in his tone. “Of course.”
When they hit minimum distance, both pressed the jump button at the same time. A sea of players poured through the sky like dumplings, all headed straight for the airport.
Viewers in Unique’s stream chomped on sunflower seeds and spammed chat:
[“Been watching this stream forever—first time seeing this happen.”]
[“Didn’t you used to float away whenever enemies showed up?”]
[“The other two teammates didn’t jump… it’s just you two now.”]
[“What?? You actually dare drop Building C?!?!?”]
Ji Wei and Yin Sijue landed together in Building C, where a crowd of players had already gathered. The moment they touched down, the sound of footsteps and gunfire surrounded them.
Yin Sijue only managed to find a pistol in the room, but he quickly took out the two players who had just landed. Then he heard the sound of a parachute closing nearby.
Checking the map, he realized the streamer was right next to him.
That Lao Liu was probably doomed.
Download NovelToon APP on App Store and Google Play
