Chapter 66
Since a group of players had caused trouble together, the China Regional League officials naturally had to investigate. Zhou Huo had long been prepared—first thing, he laid out the whole story from start to finish, and，顺便 helped explain things for the other teams too. The players hadn't violated any rules or regulations; their sparring with haters on public platforms was purely individual behavior and self-defense, not breaking any league rules.
But the league officials still sent official notices to Free, Saint, and Yi Zhan Club, demanding the clubs regulate their players' behavior, prohibiting them from further escalating the situation, and advising club management to cooperate with the officials to maintain the players' positive image.
The players hadn't actually violated any regulations, so the officials couldn't impose any real punishment—they could only deliver this limp, ineffective warning. Zhou Huo had probably been spending too much time with Yu Sui's bunch of troublemakers lately, picking up some of their attitude. Gone was his usual smooth-talking; when responding to league officials, he was neither servile nor aggressive. His summary essentially was: anything they should follow, they would; but the disrespect they shouldn't have to endure, they still wouldn't stand for.
After handling the officials, Zhou Huo hit send and felt refreshed. The more he thought about it, the more he felt young and cool, like dying his hair white would make him just like Shi Luo—capable of trash-talking his way through the entire Chinese server unchallenged.
He held a brief meeting with the base staff, then dismissed everyone to rest. Looking at the time, it was already past one in the morning.
Zhou Huo left the first-floor meeting room and did a lap around the base's ground floor, seeing no one. He only ran into Lao Qiao coming downstairs to wait for the delivery.
"Where is everyone? Asleep?"
"No idea. I was just doing laundry." Lao Qiao rolled up his sleeves. "Pajamas and underwear—I felt bad letting the auntie wash them, so they piled up for a week. Just finished. Why?"
"Why? We're riding high from roasting those haters." Zhou Huo straightened his collar and smiled. "Man, that felt good. I feel years younger. Are they asleep or still up? I need to give them the final update, then I'll turn in too."
"Not sure—before I started laundry they were still in the training room. Chen Huo and Puppy seem to have powered on their computers, no idea what they're doing. Yu Sui and Evil are on the sofa." Saying this, Lao Qiao frowned. "How come... Yu Sui and Shi Luo are always together lately? Ever since they made up, why are they closer than everyone else?"
A secret smile flickered across Zhou Huo's eyes. "They're close. That's just how Shi Luo is. When he hates Yu Sui, he's ready to fight him; when they're good, he's practically glued to his side. Man... that's youth."
"Alright then." Lao Qiao shrugged indifferently. "Same as when he was at FS—he only clung to Yu Sui anyway."
The delivery driver rang the doorbell. Lao Qiao hurried to answer it while Zhou Huo went upstairs to find the players.
He'd handled everything that needed handling. Zhou Huo wanted to tell the players that this whole thing was officially over. But when he reached the second floor, there was still no sound—every dorm room silent. Zhou Huo pushed open the training room door and found all four players right there at their stations.
No one was streaming, no one was playing anything else. They were all training on their own, just like always.
The Zhou Huo who had been riding high on the wave of the guys' energy, feeling like he'd rekindled his rebellious youth, stood frozen in place. For a moment, his throat tightened.
Just two hours ago, the forum haters had been mocking these players, saying they were嫖网红 (sleeping around with internet celebrities), chasing fans, just punching in for paychecks on the stage, and living it up off it.
Many players didn't know the truth, just followed the crowd and believed it—they thought these players, barely past twenty on average, were just coasting on天赋 (natural talent), effortlessly pulling in millions in salary, making bank while playing games, living the dream.
Shi Luo and the others were used to being flamed, used to flaming back. No problem taking on those brain-dead idiots—they could be vicious with the best of them. But not a single one of these players would play the victim.
Not one player had tried to explain themselves. The millions weren't that easy to earn.
They'd given up their studies, cut off their backup plans.
Sacrificed their youth, their health, sacrificed time with family, sacrificed the best years for romance.
The external pressures were many, the competition fierce, the inner-circle rivalry cutthroat.
They had to endure a lot of hardship, work incredibly hard, want to win more than anyone else.
If they didn't desperately want to win, who would brush off the mud still sticking to them after being splashed with filth, suppress their anger, and not waste even an hour or two of training time?
At least Zhou Huo, an ordinary guy, couldn't do it. He wasn't even one of them, and he was still so pissed his liver ached. He wanted to go another eight hundred rounds with those haters.
But these players did it anyway.
They'd flamed and cursed, squeezed in some flirting, but if there was time left, they'd still train a bit more.
Even though the coach had said they could rest. Even if it was only an hour or two.
Zhou Huo stood at the training room door, Shi Luo's energy having cooled his hot-blooded moment. For the first time, he felt his team's bunch of troublemakers had more professional ethics than anyone else.
Zhou Huo didn't go in to disturb everyone about the officials closing the case. Instead, he took a few photos of them from the doorway.
He'd already handled the officials. Zhou Huo had originally planned to notify everyone and then use the official account to post a closing tweet roasting the haters. But now he realized he'd had the wrong scope.
Zhou Huo logged into Free's official Weibo and posted a tweet with the photo.
【Roasting haters is serious business. So is wanting to win.】
The moment the post went up, comments instantly surpassed a thousand. Fans who genuinely loved the Free players finally felt vindicated. Those who'd worried the players might lose followers over the flame war stopped catastrophizing.
The players they'd followed for years would never let them down. Saying the dirtiest trash talk, playing the most serious games—doesn't conflict, and it's none of the haters' business to judge.
A few days later, the storm gradually calmed. It had been unlucky to get caught in all that mud and almost not get clean, but through this ordeal, Zhou Huo's management team had finally磨合 (synced up) perfectly with the Free players.
Zhou Huo stopped obsessing over building team popularity and stopped insisting on maintaining a flawless image for the players.
"It's also good this way, keeps everyone from being so guarded. It's not like we're idols anyway—even if we have attitude issues, so what? This is who we are, and our follower count still crushes everyone else's."
Zhou Huo relaxed during the team's breakfast meeting at noon. "With us setting an example, other teams have grown spines too. I heard ROD's completely adjusted now—they streamed yesterday and said they're hoping to face us in playoffs, determined to get revenge."
"Good, good." Puppy said lazily. "The kid's young—he needs to get flamed a few more times to build up mental toughness. After this online witch hunt, he won't choke from pressure in big matches anymore. Man... we basically helped NSN train their mental game. We got scammed."
"A heads up though—ROD's the same age as you, just a year younger than Yu Sui, a year older than Shi Luo." Lao Qiao said, then sighed at himself. "We're the ones who really got it rough. Four starting players, the oldest is only twenty-one—we're basically immune to everything at this point."
Chen Huo bit into a pickle and sighed along. "What has the world done to us..."
"Watch your tone." Shi Luo frowned. "Don't be so sappy and gross."
"Look at that—even some self-pity gets flamed." Chen Huo lovingly touched his own face. "Do troublemakers not deserve to be pitied?"
Yu Sui slowly sipped his congee. "No."
"Training is Lao Qiao's department. The coach is a professional, and the data analysis team they配备 (equipped) you with is professional—I can't weigh in on those things. Long story short, we somehow got past the tough NSN in the regular season already. Next up is Saint, and we don't have much time left. I'm sure the data analysis on Saint will be coming your way soon. Angel Sword is still the top healer, and their playstyle actually counters us quite a bit. Address what needs addressing, compensate for your own weaknesses—I won't speak on things I don't understand." Zhou Huo had a notebook and was scribbling notes. "You don't need to worry about team management either. There's just one thing I want to ask everyone's opinion on."
Zhou Huo put down his notebook and looked at the group. "Saint Sword."
"This secret base team is acting like they've got a screw loose, constantly going after us. I've already roasted them on the official account twice. The grudge is real—there's no way we're living peacefully anymore." Zhou Huo asked them. "I want to ask you original Saint Sword players—if I came over to mess with their mental game, could it work?"
Lao Qiao glanced at Zhou Huo in surprise. "Well look at you. You've caught their disease?"
"Got infected, but also genuinely sick of this crappy team. Fifty-fifty." Zhou Huo asked. "Their games I can understand without translation. Their forums I can翻墙 (tunnel through) to read. They can't keep winning forever. If I flame them when they stumble, would it do anything?"
Yu Sui shook his head. "No."
Puppy added, "Impossible. For one, there's a cultural difference—they really are more放开 (laid-back). Plus their management philosophy is different. If any player has a mental breakdown, they're immediately swapped out. Doesn't affect the team overall."
"It's not weird that they're targeting us." Chen Huo chewed on cucumber while glancing at Yu Sui. "Yu Sui didn't renew his contract—that alone made them furious. Me and Puppy following him back to China? That bill probably got charged to Yu Sui's account too. Their management is petty."
Zhou Huo frowned. "Is it just management being恶心 (disgusting)? Their players are disgusting too. Remember that whole thing with Angel Sword and Vava? Their players posted that screenshot of them flaming our region's medical staff on their own Twitter like it was something to brag about. What garbage."
"I know about that." Shi Luo bit into a fried dough stick. "If we lock in a Worlds spot, if we can match up with them, I can set up a删号战 (account-delete match) with those players."
Yu Sui's eyes lit up slightly. He turned to look at Shi Luo and smiled.
Chen Huo sucked in a cold breath, studying Shi Luo up and down. "Evil, that's a bit much."
"I'll set it up myself. You don't need to participate." Shi Luo grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth.
Zhou Huo was completely lost. He looked at Lao Qiao beside him. "What's a删号战?"
"Slang." Lao Qiao smiled. "Clearly he's from the黑网吧 (underground internet cafe) days..."
Lao Qiao put down his spoon and explained to Zhou Huo. "删号战—account-delete match. It's been around since the early gaming days. For various reasons, some players develop深仇大恨 (blood feuds), the kind you absolutely can't resolve. They'll约定 (agree to) a生死局 (life-or-death match). Winner gets to stay, loser's player deletes their account."
"Raising an account isn't easy. The充值 (top-up) and skin purchases alone—not to mention many skins are绝版 (limited edition). Some you can't buy anymore even if you have the money now. Then there's every match you've personally played season after season—that's your iron medal." Lao Qiao looked at Shi Luo. "A pro player's account is worth even more. Financially speaking, they top up without counting, throw money at their little wives without blinking—tens of thousands in充值 (top-ups) is on the low end. Besides the money, what about the情感记忆 (emotional memories)?"
"Your personal account logs every friend you've ever added, every in-game chat message with those friends. Their friends are basically all pros too, many who've already retired. The game doesn't clear any records. Those are all memories. Every match record—looking back after you retire, that's your empire you built." Lao Qiao reminisced about his own days before retiring, sighing. "When we first built the team a few months ago, the officials were so accommodating to Yu Sui, offered every kind of help. Yu Sui didn't take anything—he only made one request to the officials. Do you know what it was? Our old deleted accounts."
Zhou Huo froze. He looked at Shi Luo and laughed nervously. "That... yeah, no need to go that far."
"Doesn't matter. I wanted to set one up before, just..." Shi Luo paused and didn't continue.
Zhou Huo didn't catch on, curious. "Before—did you want to challenge who?"
Yu Sui's eyes moved. He turned to Shi Luo. "Me."
Shi Luo glanced left and right, said nothing, and implicitly confirmed.
Chen Huo laughed so hard he slapped the table. "I'd forgotten about it until now. Our Luoluo was the first one flamed in our region. It's not me stirring things up, but Shi Luo—you really should've challenged Yu Sui before you transferred. I'd be happy either way if one of you deleted your account!"
Yu Sui stared steadily at Shi Luo. "...Why didn't you challenge me?"
Shi Luo glanced at Yu Sui. After a moment of silence, he vaguely said, "Back then we both had new accounts. Deleting them wouldn't have meant anything."
Yu Sui knew that wasn't the real answer, but mindful of everyone else at the table, didn't press further. Once they'd finished discussing business, everyone dispersed. Shi Luo went alone to the balcony to smoke, and Yu Sui followed.