# Chapter 74
On the van ride back from the Saint venue to their own base, the four players were each resting in their own way. For a while, there was silence. Lao Qiao had been scrolling through his phone, occasionally taking screenshots with clicking sounds. After about half an hour of driving, Lao Qiao put down his phone, rubbed his eyes, and asked, "Can we begin?"
Yu Sui opened his eyes and furrowed his brow slightly.
Zhou Huogang had just used Free's official account to apologize to fans. Hearing this, he asked in confusion, "Begin what?"
"Oh, you wouldn't know." Lao Qiao said slowly, "Old FS tradition. A required ritual after losing matches—the blame分配 meeting."
"What blame is there to分配?" Zhou Huogang had received quite a few pointed comments after posting on Weibo. He was already fuming. He'd always been diplomatic, but he'd endured the trolls for hours. This remark pushed him over the edge. He tried to soften his tone. "I may not be great at this game, but I can watch it, and if worse comes to worst, I can listen to the commentators. Losing one regular season match under these circumstances isn't that big a deal, is it? What is this? We're not allowed to lose?"
Zhou Huogang managed the team's official account. Since the very first game of the regular season, when Free was at a slight disadvantage, trolls had been commenting and sending private messages to the official account nonstop. Some of what they said was simply unbearable. Brainless trolls didn't account for Saint's tactical counter-picks against Free. Didn't consider that players were human, not machines. Point is, you lost, and if you lose, you get flamed.
The league had no shortage of brainless trolls. Free had finally lost a match, and the people who'd always disliked Free or had personal grudges against certain players could finally have a field day. Their replies to Free's official account came faster than those from actual team fans.
While Zhou Huogang was grateful that he was the one managing the official account, he couldn't help but feel riled up. Now hearing Lao Qiao's talk of "allocating blame," the fire he'd been suppressing for half a day finally broke free. He said again, "There are winners and losers in competition. Who says our team can't lose?! We just lost one match—does that erase all the consecutive wins we had before? Can't anyone see that? Is this some kind of crime? It's just a regular season match! I don't understand. Why is it that other teams can lose and it's no big deal, but our team loses and it's some unforgivable sin? Are we a bigger team than others? Did we take extra league money? Do we owe someone something?! The players are good, the team is performing well—and that's become a mistake? We're not allowed to lose now?!"
After Zhou Huogang finished his tirade, the van fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.
Zhou Huogang had always been the type to say what people wanted to hear. This was the first time he'd shown such strong emotions. Everyone in the van was stunned.
"Uh..." Lao Qiao watched Zhou Huogang carefully, hesitating. "Manager Zhou, we weren't very familiar before, so I don't know much about your resume. Are you..."
Lao Qiao grew more cautious and asked, "If I may be so bold, is this your first time managing a top-tier team?"
Zhou Huogang: "..."
Zhou Huogang said sulkily, "I was assistant manager at NSN before. There aren't many teams more well-known than NSN."
Reluctantly, he admitted, "My understanding of the game is limited. My real expertise is in operations. I genuinely haven't managed actual competitive matters."
"That much is obvious." Puppy removed his headphones and stretched. "Welcome to the realm of the gods. You were right about one thing—having good team results is inherently your sin. Come on, let's get this over with."
Lao Qiao glanced at Shi Luo, then looked at Yu Sui with a questioning expression. Yu Sui leaned against the seatback, was silent for a moment, then said, "Go ahead."
Chen Huo removed his headphones and said helplessly, "Sure, sure."
Zhou Huogang was still completely lost. He looked around at everyone. "Do what?"
Shi Luo opened his eyes—those fierce, knife-sharp eyes—and smoothed his short hair. His expression was dark as he stared at Lao Qiao.
"We're starting with Puppy's section, the most brutal one. Let's read Puppy's first." Lao Qiao read from the forum screenshots he'd captured, his tone flat and emotionless. "'He's always spamming 666 during streams, but when it's time for actual matches, he chokes. In the first game, they put a rookie on the sniper position—surely someone should have realized he needed immediate backup? Was he waiting at spawn for something?'"
"'Puppy used to have a reputation for solid aim, but now he's getting worse and worse. He's become such a camper. The older he gets, the more conservative his play. Feels like he's treating Free like a retirement home.'"
"'Puppy doesn't have any specialty, just that "he can stay calm and not be reckless" thing that people have been hyping for years. How many more years are they going to keep hyping it? And please, who asked him to camp?'"
"'After he was traded to Holy Sword, Puppy being the first one put on the trade block wasn't without reason. Holy Sword only keeps what kind of players—anyone who knows, knows.'"
"'Puppy really is the weakest link on Free, no question. I have to say...'"
"Hold on." Zhou Huogang stared, mouth agape, interrupting Lao Qiao. His voice cracked. "What are you doing?! When other teams lose, they make players block all public platforms and social media so they don't see or hear any of this. But you're actively reading it TO them?! Your own team sabotaging your own players' mental state?"
"Exactly." Lao Qiao's expression didn't change. He countered, "What else? Wait until they accidentally see it themselves while browsing the web later and suddenly break down? What if they encounter this kind of thing right before the next match? If they collapse right before a match, who's responsible?"
Zhou Huogang was speechless. After a while, he managed, "But you can't..."
"You think..." Lao Qiao paused, then asked, "Today's first match encountered such a huge upset, and then we lost. How do you think they managed to shake off the negative emotions so quickly for the second game?"
"You think we built these iron nerves through what? Having everyone be villains?"
Zhou Huogang was stunned.
Recalling how the team had said they didn't need a sports psychologist during the early founding days, Zhou Huogang suddenly felt a tightness in his throat.
Lao Qiao said calmly, "We call them veterans, but the oldest is only twenty-one. How could they possibly be so mature? Going back even earlier, we had a roster that wasn't even legal. The oldest player on the team was seventeen. No matter what situation they faced, they needed to adapt quickly. The secret was having thick skin—being able to take it all in."
"How do you build thick skin?" Lao Qiao waved his phone. "Half natural talent, half practice."
"You think they could actually get influenced by trolls?" Lao Qiao laughed. "Sure, some players with poor mental fortitude, after a thousand trolls tell them they're trash, genuinely start doubting themselves, their performance gets cramped and limited, and they actually become trash. But trust me, these guys aren't going to fall for troll tactics. They can take it."
Zhou Huogang felt something catch in his throat. Instinctively, he wanted to defend his players, but after a moment, he said nothing more.
Zhou Huogang's strength was in team operations. He was genuinely an amateur when it came to anything related to actual competition. As a manager, he truly had no authority to interfere with how the coach trained the players.
Judging from what Lao Qiao meant, this was the team's established training method, so he had no right to object even more.
Zhou Huogang gritted his teeth and, suppressing his anger, gave a meaningful look to the cameraman assigned to the team.
Lao Qiao continued, "Next is Chen Huo's section..."
"Has Chen Huo gotten to the point where he only knows how to mindless rush now? In the second game, it was rush rush rush, never-ending. Does his Angel Sword have green on it or something?"
"Though I don't play the game much, I've watched plenty of matches. In both games, I couldn't see any strategy, just Chen Huo charging like a mule that's lost its mind."
"Free was actually pressuring Saint's economy in the early game of the second match, but I always felt like Chen Huo just lost his cool. He wasn't pressuring their economy at all."
"Bullshit about pressuring economy. Chen Huo has always been impulsive. No one told him to charge—he did it on his own."
"He charged to the end and still didn't win. What's the point? Don't blame it on Angel Sword getting lucky. Luck is part of skill, you know?"
"So can Chen Huo play any more carefully?"
Lao Qiao flipped through more. "That's it for Chen Huo."
Chen Huo sneered. "These trolls are weak this round. Saying the same things over and over. After all that slag, not one actually landed a hit on me."
"Next is Shi Luo's..." Lao Qiao paused, glanced at Yu Sui again, hesitated. "Read it?"
Shi Luo said coldly, "Read."
Yu Sui said nothing, implicitly consenting.
Lao Qiao quietly took a breath, then read slowly, "No BS, is Shi Luo the team cancer? During the second match, he had the worst expression."
"Shi Luo's mentality—can he really handle Worlds? After losing, his face was so dark it was unbearable."
"Is he showing that face for his fans? Otherwise, how would his sister-fans feel sorry for him? Shi-ge is the apple of his girl fans' eyes. Ever since he was sold by Whisper, he's been collecting die-hard fangirls, relying on making his girl fans feel sorry for him to stay popular."
"Relying on looks to gain fans—let's see how long that lasts."
"Though Shi Luo didn't really make mistakes in the second match, who can guarantee that if he had a better mentality, he couldn't have performed above and beyond and shown off? He's perfectly capable of showing off!"
"The other three adjusted their emotions pretty quickly, but Evil couldn't. I'm not being harsh—if you look, you can tell he can't handle Worlds."
"A reasonable analysis: Whisper, out of nostalgia, bought Evil into the team. Does this actually help the team overall? Does... does..."
Lao Qiao glanced at Shi Luo, cleared his throat. "That's mostly it..."
Shi Luo spoke up. "Finish it."
Shi Luo was the youngest and had never experienced this kind of mental training during his time at FS. Lao Qiao still felt a soft spot for him. Only when Shi Luo insisted did Lao Qiao continue, grinding his teeth as he read: "Whisper, out of nostalgia, bought Evil into the team. Does this actually help the team overall?"
"F*** YES it does!" Zhou Huogang finally couldn't take it anymore. "The top assault player in the server last season—you tell me there's no help! You tell me! I can't hold back anymore—send me those screenshots, I want to go at them with a sock puppet! F*** them! Send me the screenshots!!"
"No one's saying the trolls are right." Lao Qiao was helpless. "I'm desensitizing them. Why are you arguing with brainless trolls? I have even more ridiculous, more outlandish stuff here. I genuinely thought there was no need to read it to Shi Luo. Do you want to hear it?"
Zhou Huogang shouted: "NO!"
Shi Luo breathed lightly.
From the moment he'd gotten in the van until now, one thought had been replaying in Shi Luo's mind:
"This is everything Yu Sui went through."
He was eating the bitterness Yu Sui had eaten. Suffering the hardships Yu Sui had suffered.
His boyfriend, long ago, had stood alone and carried all of this on his own shoulders.
Back then, Whisper had been so young, solitary, with no one—not even himself, not even the teammates he had now. All he'd had was that scumbag Ji Yanhan.
And himself? He was several years older than Yu Sui had been back then. He had a team to belong to, teammates he could trust, a boyfriend who'd been trying to comfort him all along...
What was there to be afraid of?
His boyfriend, at his age, had already been able to go head-to-head with that scumbag Ji Yanhan.
Bitching and complaining about this bit of bullsh*t was beneath him.
Repeating these thoughts, Shi Luo had largely worked through his negative emotions.
Listening to trolls' garbage directly was disgusting, but for building mental resilience, it was genuinely effective.
His entire team was full of thick-skinned players with iron nerves, all of them capable of rapidly adjusting their mental state during matches. He couldn't be worse than the rest.
At this point, Shi Luo truly wasn't afraid of anything. He looked at Lao Qiao and said, "Keep reading. Whoever can't handle it is a grandson."
"Do NOT read it!" Zhou Huogang's face went pale with anger. "I'll f***ing kill these trash f***ing scumbags! Why are they allowed to talk to MY players like that?! It's not like they're paying the players' salaries!"
Shi Luo furrowed his brow, his voice cold. "Read it. I want to hear what even more ridiculous things they say."
Lao Qiao looked back and forth between Zhou Huogang and Shi Luo, then finally turned to Yu Sui.
Yu Sui gazed downward. "Read."
Others didn't know about their relationship, but Zhou Huogang knew perfectly well. His anger peaked. "Yu Sui! You're unbelievable! Nobody's got a harder heart than you!"
Since Yu Sui had spoken, Lao Qiao pressed on regardless. He flipped through the screenshots. "Evil didn't make many mistakes, so we can't flame him? What's wrong with his mentality? Can't he be like the other three, lose with some grace? Smile a little? Show some first-tier team bearing? His mental fortitude just isn't there."
"After the second match ended, Evil clearly had a mental collapse. Can't trust him. Most ridiculous is that he made Whisper wait for him afterward. What kind of少爷 attitude is that?"
"I get so annoyed looking at Evil's阴着的脸. And Whisper was behind him looking worried. Did anyone notice—they kept making eye contact. F***, no idea what kind of shit they're pulling."
"At this point, I'm more and more believing what those girl fans say. Shi Luo's probably already with Yu Sui!"
Shi Luo choked violently. He turned his head and covered his mouth with the back of his hand, coughing a few times.
Zhou Huogang: "..."
Yu Sui's expression flickered with momentary discomfort.
Lao Qiao spread his hands, blunt as ever. "You want to hear stuff this infuriating? This has completely gone off the rails."
"F*** their mothers..." Shi Luo's lips moved, his words silent. "Dumb f***ing trolls... squandering their gift for finding beauty..."
Zhou Huogang's anger immediately halved. He shifted uncomfortably. "That's enough. You... you might as well read Yu Sui's."
"I was about to read it. You guys interrupted me." Lao Qiao complained. "Yu Sui's section."
"Yu Sui didn't obviously mess up, but he actually didn't anticipate Saint's prepared tactics. Shouldn't he be flamed for that? And after the match ended, why didn't he leave? He was居然 waiting for that少爷 Shi Luo! F***, no wonder they're gay for each other! Ptooey!"
Lao Qiao finished reading and looked at the group. He was completely puzzled. "Why aren't any of you angry?"
One of the gay couple, Yu Sui, said sincerely, "The trolls made valid points with solid reasoning. I have no room to be angry."
Lao Qiao nodded, slightly relieved. "Keep that mindset. Alright, now that you've all heard it, forget about it. We're almost at the base. Everyone, go do your own thing."