Chapter 130
In the first game, Free executed an ultra-fast tactics and secured victory in just seventeen minutes, giving all the domestic players watching a solid reassurance.
It was a best-of-five series. Winning the first game didn't mean much of an advantage in a tournament setting, but the way Free's four players dominated with their operations was truly oppressive. The pace was so relentless that they compressed what should have been a thirty-minute game into those seventeen minutes. The commentators couldn't even keep up with their movements. After the match, both Shi Luo and Chen Huo's finger joints ached with a dull, throbbing pain.
Chen Huo grabbed the data analyst's hand and pressed it against his own chest, baring his teeth. "Feel that? My heart's about to burst out! I swear, I think when you guys came up with this tactics, you were trying to kill us.妈的—who's gonna take responsibility if we get a heart attack?!"
The data analyst laughed uncontrollably. "We didn't expect you two to execute it so well in actual combat. Impressive. Great job,辛苦了—sorry, I mean, good work."
"Do you want to switch tactics for the next game?" Lao Qiao asked Yu Sui. "They're exhausted, and you're straining your brain just as hard to call the shots. If you keep this up, I'm worried you won't be able to handle it. Should we take a breather?"
Yu Sui asked a staff member for a heating patch, took it, rubbed it between his palms to warm it up, then took Shi Luo's hand and pressed the patch against Shi Luo's finger joints, shaking his head. "No need."
There wasn't much time during halftime. The room was packed with people, and they still needed to discuss tactics with the coaching staff. There was no chance to pull Shi Luo aside and talk privately. Yu Sui acted as if everyone in the rest area—including the tournament staff—didn't exist, gently massaging Shi Luo's hands with the warming patch. "Does it hurt?"
Shi Luo nodded. "A little... but it won't affect my performance in the next game. It's fine."
Chen Huo's hands hurt too. As the entry fragger, his operational intensity was already higher than the other roles. Playing this tactics essentially treated him and Shi Luo like workhorses. Chen Huo grit his teeth, shot Yu Sui a look, and deliberately stirred up trouble. "First you say no need to switch tactics, then you ask if it hurts. If Shi Luo says it really hurts, would you switch?"
The judging panel came in to have Yu Sui sign and confirm the results of the previous match. Yu Sui kept one hand intertwined with Shi Luo's while reaching for the pen with the other, bit open the cap, and signed his ID at lightning speed. "No switching."
Chen Huo took the heating patch Puppy handed him, pressed it against his hand, and clicked his tongue. "Shi Shen, take a look at what kind of absolutely scumbag boyfriend you found."
Shi Luo raised his eyes to meet Yu Sui's gaze, speaking softly. "The one I fell for is a scumbag... hasn't that been obvious for a while now?"
"Come on, these two are just as bad as each other. Is Shi Luo some kind of saint?" Puppy cut in dryly from the side. "Playing with Yu Sui's feelings... sleeping with Yu Sui... not letting Yu Sui go public about their relationship. Seriously, if you replaced Whisper with an ordinary guy, wouldn't Shi Luo be a total scumbag?"
Knowing the players were just trying to lighten the tense atmosphere, the staff members around them laughed. The data analyst, racing against the clock, went over the issues their opponents had shown in the previous game and what problems they might face if they kept using the same tactics in the next round. Yu Sui held Shi Luo's hand the entire time.
Zhou Huo stood at the farthest corner, seizing every available moment to give a status update. "I just took a walk near the Holy Sword rest area. A whole bunch of sour faces! That arrogant aura of theirs is completely gone. I don't speak German, but they were definitely cussing someone out. Let's keep up the pressure."
"Don't get cocky, don't underestimate them." Lao Qiao, terrified of jinxing them, forced his expression to remain neutral. "We're continuing into the next game. The opponents aren't pushovers either—they were completely blindsided just now. For the next game, you read their plays and counter accordingly. Yu Sui, the pressure's on you now. This split-second tactics—pulling out early means losing ground, pulling out late means crashing. Life or death—"
Lao Qiao paused.
"—there's no helping it. This has to be done by someone who never makes mistakes. Yu Shen... life or death is all on you. Can you handle it?"
Yu Sui nodded. "No need to give me a pep talk. Go over the issues from the end of the last game with Chen Huo."
There had been a small slip-up from Chen Huo at the end of the previous round. Lao Qiao nodded and hurried off to emphasize Chen Huo's usual positioning problems.
Yu Sui took a deep breath, cupped both hands over Shi Luo's, and gently massaged them.
The referee reminded everyone that the second game was about to begin. Everyone nodded, took a final sip of water, and headed out. No one was paying attention to anyone else. Only Lao Qiao, walking at the very back, noticed Yu Sui lower his head and press a kiss to Shi Luo's hand before letting go.
Even a straight-laced guy like Lao Qiao felt a sudden pang in his chest watching Yu Sui and Shi Luo's retreating figures.
The scumbag Yu wasn't actually heartless.
That was his Shi Luo. After every match, Shi Luo's hands trembled from overuse. How could Yu Sui not feel for him?
Zhou Huo turned back to look at Lao Qiao and followed his gaze—
Shi Luo's pale hand back had several red blotches from the heating patch. Looking closer... Yu Sui's right palm was equally red from the heat.
Lao Qiao happened to lock eyes with Zhou Huo, gave an awkward little laugh himself, and shook his head. His tone came out a bit unnatural. "What's this supposed to mean? How much pain can it be? It's not like this happens every day..."
Even as he said that, Lao Qiao's expression had grown heavier than before. The corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily.
Whether it was influenced by the sea of light sticks swaying before the match or something else, Lao Qiao had become more sentimental than usual today.
Lao Qiao watched the four players leave the rest area. Only after everyone had gone did he manage a faint smile toward the data analysts and Zhou Huo. "Hey, if you want to win, you've got to endure more hardship than others. Did anyone think that becoming a prodigy meant you could skip the吃苦—skip the hard work? That's also..."
The follow-camera operator turned the lens toward Lao Qiao. Lao Qiao awkwardly stopped himself, waved a hand, and sat back down.
Everyone in the room knew exactly how they trained day after day, knew the secret drills the players practiced behind closed doors at the base for each hidden tactic. No need to say more.
Zhou Huo was always the type to fiercely protect his players. Knowing the coaching staff's decisions weren't to blame, he still muttered under his breath, "Actually, this kind of killer move could have been saved for the third or fourth game..."
"Excuse me." The data analyst piped up weakly. "The day we finished the quarterfinals draw, when we were discussing tactics... Evil was the one who suggested it. Open with the killer move we've been saving, completely blindside Holy Sword."
Zhou Huo was stumped. There was nothing more to say.
The players were on halftime, but the audience outside didn't get a break. To fill the gap during intermission, the arena played pre-recorded player videos.
Lao Qiao frowned at the live feed showing Holy Sword's family members' recorded well-wishes for the Holy Sword players. "Didn't they all get uploaded before the match? What's the point of playing them again..."
None of his own team's player families had participated in this segment, so Lao Qiao couldn't be bothered to watch.
Zhou Huo glanced up at the screen, expression unchanged. "It's fine, let them play theirs. As if we don't have one."
Lao Qiao looked at Zhou Huo in surprise. "We have one? Where?"
"Don't worry about it. We have it, okay?" Zhou Huo said with certainty. "They play theirs now, and during our halftime break, we'll play ours."
Lao Qiao frowned. "Did you... did you reach out to their families to record one?"
"Two rich second-generation kids on one team, each family more powerful than the last—do you really think I have those connections?" Zhou Huo said with a helpless smile. "No, look—don't ask. You'll see next round... The players wouldn't dare bother their families, and they definitely wouldn't allow it anyway. But..."
Zhou Huo lowered his voice. "...Our players have always been self-reliant in everything. They should be used to it by now."
Lao Qiao was silent for a moment, managed a smile. "I don't know if it's because I always look out for my kids, but I always feel like... no matter what, things are harder for us?"
"These are all the same caliber of players, not earning any more than other pros at the same level. Why do our players always have to take extra detours, always have to吃苦—always have to suffer more?"
Zhou Huo was at a loss for words. He waved his hand dismissively. "Don't get sentimental, I'm begging you. My tears are saved for after the finals. Today is finals, for crying out loud. And besides—"
Zhou Huo stood up, straightened his clothes, and said quietly, "The road to becoming a god—how could it ever be smooth sailing?"
"Not to mention..." The data analyst cut in weakly. "Evil was the one who first proposed today's tactics. The other three players all agreed to it."
The data analyst spoke with waning confidence, glancing at the follow-camera operator. "So that afterward, when the post-match voice chat comes out, I don't get flamed by fans... I could also do what Zhou-manager does, and ask the cameraman to give this nameless person a brief moment on camera?"
Zhou Huo was annoyed into a laugh. "Why are you copying me? Fine, fine, whatever, film whatever you want."
Zhou Huo thought to himself privately: The editing is ultimately in my hands anyway. If I decide to cut you out entirely, there's nothing you can do about it.
The follow-camera operator, dutiful as always, turned the camera lens toward the data analyst and gave a nod indicating they could begin.
The data analyst faced the camera and said humbly, "Fans, if after the match your favorite players get overworked... like, Whisper pushing his brain too hard, or Evil and Chen Huo straining their hands too much and getting injured—please don't blame the coaching staff. Yes, we developed this tactics together with the players, but as for how to actually execute it and how to arrange the entire BO5, that was the players' own decision. As for why they made that choice..."
The data analyst swallowed hard. "After the match ends, if the result satisfies the players, they'll probably explain it themselves during the post-match interview."
In the soundproof booth on the arena floor, Shi Luo flexed his red-marked finger joints, stared at Holy Sword's player IDs across the game screen, and said coldly, "Because this daddy wants a shutout. Wants to blank them. Wants a 3-to-0."
"I'd rather my hands break than let Holy Sword score a single point in the quarterfinals."