# Chapter 119
Saint Club had always been well-connected in the scene, kind to everyone, on good terms with every club, rarely any friction reported. Now even the good-tempered Saint had gotten so angry they started flame wars on international social media—so the other esports clubs absolutely couldn't just watch.
The owner of Wanzhongshan Club remembered how Free had dropped by during their home game and given their players some tips, so they were the first to follow suit. Their owner had no shame either, directly saying: "I'm already a trash player myself. Our club's results were so bad we didn't even make it to Worlds. You want to mess with me? Go ahead, I dare you. The new season hasn't started yet and there's no competition—I'm bored at home anyway, perfect time to tear you apart."
The rest of the clubs followed one after another. In the end, even Buffalo, who had beef with Free, couldn't hold back. Furious Shū, as team captain, registered a Twitter account for their team and actively joined the fray, creating pure chaos.
When their team was playing the second round of group stage matches, Zhou Huo clutched his hair watching the gods of international social media duke it out, his heart jumping out of his chest, eyes wide in shock.
Before Worlds started, Zhou Huo had thought that after arriving in Germany, their team might have some minor public friction with Holy Sword— he'd already prepared several PR strategies for that. But never in his wildest dreams did he expect the situation to escalate into an all-out league war.
Everyone had gone crazy.
Zhou Huo kept pulling his own hair, on the verge of a breakdown. "My professional skills are solid, but please tell me what kind of PR response am I supposed to give now? Seriously, I'm not lying... Before I came, I had my team prepare quite a few bilingual PR statements. Firm stance, creative angles, polished wording—I could've presented any of them at the UN without flinching..."
Lao Qiao and several data analysts stared at the synchronized match stream, taking a moment to offer perfunctory comfort. "Throw it out, don't feel bad. Everyone's already roasting each other's ancestors—nobody's got time for your sissy PR statements."
Zhou Huo's heart bled. He clutched his chest and gritted his teeth. "I stayed up all night writing all those beautiful bilingual PR drafts..."
Zhou Huo painfully deleted the drafts, then shuffled behind Lao Qiao to watch the video. He couldn't quite follow, so he asked, "What's happening on the field?"
"You think it's only the internet that's gone insane?" Lao Qiao's eyes were wide open, glued to the screen. "The game itself is also out of control. Everyone's been holding back their anger, and now it's all coming out. Besides Yu Sui who's the same as usual, the other three have gone on a killing spree... Puppy's even started last-hitting."
Zhou Huo couldn't read the match details, but he could tell from the rising kill count on Free's side that their players were being somewhat brutal.
Zhou Huo asked carefully, "So... we're definitely going to win, right?"
"Duh." Lao Qiao didn't even look up. "Take a look at the Vietnamese team's expressions yourself."
The data analyst said with pity, "That's the face of someone desperately hoping the game ends quickly. That's the face of someone praying the opponents will show mercy... They're rivals in our group, but even I feel bad for them."
The camera cut to close-ups of the Vietnamese players. Their faces grew stiffer by the second. Zhou Huo laughed awkwardly. "Sorry, sorry, it's not aimed at you specifically. You just happened to be in the crossfire."
Free's fourth BO1 in Group A ended in just nineteen minutes. Free made quick work of it, securing another point.
Lao Qiao slammed the table. "Nice! We're through!"
Zhou Huo was still jumping at shadows. He startled. "Through? Just like that? Wait, don't jinx it! In theory, shouldn't we need five points to safely advance?"
"In theory, yes, five points. But no other team in our group has reached four wins yet." The data analyst explained carefully. "There's no zero-win super-easy target either. So based on the current matches played, there's no way three teams can end up with a 4-2 record. Your theory is already invalid—we're through, at least as second seed."
Zhou Huo didn't understand a word. "What are you saying..."
"Nothing. Just trust us. We're through." Lao Qiao couldn't be bothered to explain to Zhou Huo. "Go post on Weibo. If we don't advance, I'll cut off my own—"
Zhou Huo had been completely stunned by the online firestorm. He counted on his fingers, couldn't figure it out, still didn't dare believe it. He checked Weibo and saw fans already celebrating with giveaways. Only then did he relax, muttering and nodding. "Although I knew advancing from Group A was certain, why am I still a little excited... We're through, we're through, we're through... My team made it to Worlds group stage elimination. Our new team made it this far. We've got the foundation to keep fighting Holy Sword. We can keep playing. Thank you, thank you, thank you..."
Zhou Huo muttered into his phone, inexplicably getting teary-eyed. Afraid Lao Qiao and the others would notice, he told the staff to post on Weibo and went to the bathroom to splash water on his face.
When Zhou Huo came out of the bathroom, he正好 bumped into the players returning from the front with their peripherals. Zhou Huo looked at his own "boy band of gods" approaching, loved every single one of them, and felt a sudden wave of emotion. Just when he wanted to hug someone, he saw Chen Huo glaring and slap Shi Luo on the back.
Shi Luo's mouth curved slightly. He didn't dodge or evade, stumbling forward from the slap, and laughed softly. "...Loser."
"Last-hitting! Last-hitting! Last-hitting!" Chen Huo was so angry he kept smacking Shi Luo's back with his mousepad. "You're a rookie! Whether you get MVP or not makes no difference! I'm a veteran, same role as you, and I still haven't gotten a single MVP this whole tournament—丢人丢大了你知不知道？Little brat..."
Shi Luo chewed his gum as Chen Huo pushed him through the door into their own lounge. "You're old, your mechanics aren't what they used to be. Who's to blame for that?"
Chen Huo wanted to hit Shi Luo again, but Yu Sui blocked him without even looking like he'd moved. "That's enough. You gonna keep going at it in front of me?"
Chen Huo was about to start a fight with Yu Sui, but before he could move, Zhou Huo tackled him in a hug.
Zhou Huo was so excited about the team advancing that he squeezed Chen Huo vigorously.
Everyone else remained calm, including Shi Luo, who was also at his first Worlds.
When everyone entered the lounge, they stopped joking around, sat down, took a few sips of water, and seriously listened to Lao Qiao and the data analysts review their last match. Time was tight—the Group A results would be finalized today. Yu Sui and the others had about an hour to rest before their next BO1.
After quickly reviewing the last game and pointing out individual improvements for each player, Lao Qiao turned to Zhou Huo. "We've got four wins. Advancement is locked in. Now... Close the door. Turn off the cameras and microphones. Is anyone wearing a personal mic? Turn it off. If you don't know how, just pull the power."
Yu Sui and Lao Qiao exchanged a glance. Yu Sui snorted a laugh and said nothing.
Chen Huo and Puppy also figured it out after a moment. They nodded. "Close the door properly. Double-lock it."
Zhou Huo was completely lost, but he followed instructions.
Several data analysts made excuses about having things to do and left the lounge before the door closed.
Shi Luo scanned the room. Nothing got past a genius's brain—in a few seconds, Shi Luo understood.
Shi Luo spit his gum into a tissue. "Right. We've got four points. If we want to make a move, it starts with the next game..."
Zhou Huo: "..."
Chen Huo's smile faded. He rolled his mousepad into a ball and sucked his teeth. "Give me a few minutes to think."
Puppy stared off into space. "Mm..."
Lao Qiao was silent.
Zhou Huo wiped the tears he'd secretly shed from excitement, his dignity finally giving way. "Since you kept me here, can you... give us regular folks a break? What are you guys talking about? Can someone explain it to a normal person?"
The other five in the room stared at Zhou Huo in shock.
Zhou Huo endured the humiliation. "May I ask, gods, what exactly are you considering?"
Lao Qiao subconsciously glanced at the several cameras already turned off in the room, clicking his tongue. "You know I can't say this out loud, right?"
Shi Luo said, "I'll explain—"
"No!" Lao Qiao cut Shi Luo off敏感ly. "I'll do it... If this somehow gets out, I'll take the fall.反正我已经退役了."
Lao Qiao tiredly looked at Zhou Huo, then lowered his voice. "During the quarterfinal draw, the first-seed teams from group stage are seeded first. First seeds can't face each other in the quarterfinals—you know that, right?"
Zhou Huo wasn't stupid, just unfamiliar with the format. He understood immediately.
In Group D, besides Holy Sword, it was a bunch of weak teams. Holy Sword was稳稳地是小组赛第一出线的—firmly advancing as group first.
Looking at Free's current situation in Group A, they'd also稳稳 first seed.
Following this trajectory, according to the first-seed avoidance rule in quarterfinal draws, Free wouldn't face Holy Sword before semifinals. Because of bracket distribution, as a first seed, the probability of facing them in semifinals was actually lower than for a second seed.
No draw could change this objectively.
If they wanted a chance to face each other earlier, they'd need to start controlling the score now—Free would throw a few games, advance as group second, and there'd be a decent chance of meeting Holy Sword in quarterfinals.
"Before we came, I think we discussed it once—we all wanted to face Holy Sword as soon as possible, to have a real match with them." Lao Qiao squinted. "As a coach, I certainly don't recommend you throw games. As a former pro, I deeply despise this kind of thing. But..."
Lao Qiao's face was unusually ferocious. "They might as well have stepped directly on our faces. Before, they even made you guys play cat... We're all human, all have blood in our veins. Nobody's a pro machine. Don't give me that dignified nonsense. My brothers want to face them at any cost—I get it."
"We're just changing from first seed to second. We're not hurting anyone. It won't affect the rest of our group. No need for a guilty conscience."
"Of course, I'm not stopping you. You're the ones who'd get traded, the ones who'd suffer the consequences here. Make your own choice—but decide quickly." Lao Qiao spoke rapidly. "If you want second seed, start throwing from the next game. We grab the second seed slot, and when the draw comes, we leave it to fate. If we meet them, it's life or death. If you don't want to do this, pretend I never said anything."
Lao Qiao said calmly, "I'm just acting as an old teammate, reminding you when you'd need to start throwing."
The training room was quiet for over ten seconds.
Lao Qiao looked at Zhou Huo and smiled. "You're probably thinking about strangling me right now, huh?"
"Of course I am... I want the most secure results." Zhou Huo was silent for a moment, then sighed. "But... who the hell is a saint? If you want to throw, throw. Come on, let's do this—no signature vote. If things go south later, nobody blames anybody. It's anonymous anyway."
Yu Sui couldn't help but laugh. "You think way ahead."
"What else am I supposed to do?!" Zhou Huo might not know the format well, but he knew team management. "When you guys die in quarterfinals and regret it later, there won't be anyone to blame. Okay, I know you guys are close—I shouldn't have worried. Come on..."
Zhou Huo grabbed four identical sheets of paper and identical pens and handed them out. "Circle for throwing to get second seed, X for normal advancement. Thirty seconds. Hurry up. When you're done, face-down on the table. No creasing."
Everyone took their paper and pen. When finished, they placed them face-down on the table.
Zhou Huo had a bit of a selfish hope—that nobody would choose to throw. After everyone was done, he said, "Four people, easy to tie. Shi Luo's vote doesn't count anyway—he wasn't the one being traded."
Shi Luo paused. Zhou Huo had a point. Shi Luo nodded and crumpled his paper into a ball.
"No more stalling!"
Zhou Huo picked up the remaining three papers, shuffled them around randomly, put both hands on the three papers, his heartbeat gradually speeding up, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
Zhou Huo gritted his teeth. "Am I lucky or unlucky, dealing with you people..."
Zhou Huo took a deep breath and picked up one paper, unfolded it!
An X.
Zhou Huo's eyes lit up. No throwing.
Zhou Huo quickly unfolded another paper.
An X.
The third paper:
Still an X.
Three people, unanimous—no throwing.
Zhou Huo's sweat dripped down. He let out a long breath. "Damn it... Are you guys doing this to scare me?! Everything stays the same. Play normally, advance as first seed. That's it."
Lao Qiao raised his eyes to look at the three. His gaze was complicated—heartfelt approval, but also a hint of unwillingness. He couldn't help but say, "Brothers... Evil-ge already made the decision for you. You really don't have to do this... Being a saint every day, isn't it exhausting? Fuck, how many years have you been meticulously maintaining your integrity? What did you get out of it? Who saw? Who gave you any special treatment because of it? Wanting to stand up for yourselves isn't shameful!"
"No one saw, and no one appreciated it." Yu Sui wasn't surprised by the result. Otherwise, he wouldn't have let Zhou Huo organize this vote. Yu Sui said softly, "But... I saw. I know. Forget it, saying stuff like this is too cheesy..."
Puppy was also a little unwilling. He sighed. "For one second I wanted to, but... I can't."
"Ah, everyone's嫌矫情 and won't say it, so I'll say it." Chen Huo's expression was off. Usually, when it came to trash talk, he was the strongest—but actually saying something sincere was hard. Chen Huo's face reddened slightly, his voice gruff. "I wore Holy Sword's jersey for two years. That's already stained and can't be washed clean—we own that. So... there's got to be something that's still clean, right? We've never thrown a game! Never done this kind of thing."
Lao Qiao's throat tightened. He wanted to say something but couldn't. He stood up, snatched the three papers into his hand, and without a word, tore them into shreds, tossing them into the trash can.
Zhou Huo rubbed his face and smiled to lighten the mood. "Okay okay okay, pretend nothing happened. Come on... anyone want snacks? The next game starts soon."
"Wait." Yu Sui looked at Shi Luo. "Evil, take a look at yours."
Shi Luo, holding his crumpled paper, froze.
Chen Huo squinted at Shi Luo. "He probably wanted to throw, right?"
"Shi Shen definitely wanted to stir things up, but it doesn't matter to the result anyway." Puppy looked at Shi Luo, also curious. "What did you put?"
Shi Luo unfolded the paper in his hand and slapped it on the table.
On the paper, clearly, was also an X.
Shi Luo's eyes showed some unwillingness too. He glanced at Yu Sui, then lowered his voice, irritated. "When I first entered the industry, I was taught rule by rule by Yu Sui, word by word, one-on-one. You think I'd throw? What are you thinking?"
Yu Sui's lips curved slightly. He said softly, "Good boy."
The others snorted laughing. Shi Luo was embarrassed, irritatedly tearing up his paper.
That day, Group A group stage officially ended. Free advanced as undisputed first seed with a 6-0 record, becoming the first team to qualify for this Worlds.
After the final BO1 ended, staff hurried to the soundproof booth to notify Yu Sui that the captain needed to do an interview.
Yu Sui removed his headset and stood up. Just as he was about to go, Shi Luo beside him frowned. "Why is it always the captain going?"
The staff froze for a second, confused, and looked at Shi Luo. "Usually the captain goes. For our side, what's... the situation?"
Yu Sui also looked at Shi Luo.
Shi Luo, who had secured first place advancement but missed the chance to face Holy Sword earlier, was not happy. He said flatly, "I want to go!"
Yu Sui: "..."
Chen Huo, who was disassembling his peripherals, choked.
"Unbelievable." Puppy clicked his tongue, disassembling his peripherals while muttering to himself. "These days there's actually someone who likes being interviewed. This Worlds I've really seen every kind of bizarre thing..."
Yu Sui didn't hesitate even for a moment. He said to the staff, "I suddenly feel a bit unwell and need to rest. Could our player substitute for me?"
The staff was shocked by Yu Sui's shameless ability to lie with a straight face. He didn't dare accuse Yu Sui of faking illness, so he swallowed and勉强 said, "Of course... that works."
Shi Luo's face, who had been憋了一肚子火 ever since seeing Holy Sword captain's interview, finally lightened up a bit.
Yu Sui whistled at Shi Luo. "Go ahead, Acting Captain. I'll carry your peripherals."
Shi Luo hummed and followed the staff away.
The Acting Captain was full of authority. Walking along, he confirmed with the staff: "Are there many reporters?"
"Are they good?"
"Are your translators competent? I can do bilingual myself. If you absolutely must have a translator, don't weaken my cutting-edge vocabulary, got it?"
"Free is amazing. We're one of the championship favorites. You should consider extending the interview time."
"I can cooperate."
"I...呵，我、好、多、话、想、说."
Shi Luo, after advancing from the publicly-recognized "Fail to Advance and You're Trash Group" Group A, wearing a baseball cap with hands in pockets, walked out with the swagger of a Worlds champion, condescending to go do an interview.