Chapter 133: Extra
To ensure fairness in the competition, at the World Championship, each team was assigned a referee drawn randomly just thirty minutes before each match, following the principle of avoiding referees from the same region as the competing teams.
This prevented clubs from making any underhanded deals with referees, and gave referees no time to interact with players.
The organizing committee for this World Championship had assembled forty-eight referees from all five major regions across the globe. Any referee selected would necessarily be from a different region than the competing players.
In the first quarterfinal match, the Free team faced off against the Holy Sword team. The referee drawn for Free's side was a young official from the Latin America Wildcard region.
The young referee had only been in the profession for half a year. He spent his days happily in the peaceful, tranquil Wildcard region of Latin America, rarely interacting with major regions or understanding the feuds between them. He'd been selected for the organizing committee simply because he spoke several foreign languages.
His first appearance at a World Championship, assigned to one of the two major world powerhouses—it came as quite a surprise and a delight to him.
He didn't care which side won. He'd simply do his job properly.
Coming from a region mocked as the "Cluckin' Farm Alliance," this young referee had never been to a venue this massive. Seeing the deafening cheers and support before the match, he felt the trip had been worthwhile—he'd gained some real experience!
Free Club's players were incredibly impressive. Winning three consecutive games and giving last season's champions a clean sweep, the young referee watched three matches packed with non-stop action. He was even more convinced the trip hadn't been wasted! The collision between two powerhouse teams was too electrifying! It was absolutely incredible!
Being assigned to Free's side, he got a close look at the famous Twin Stars from the China region. He was more than satisfied—the Twin Stars were exactly as the rumors described. Handsome men with even more impressive gameplay! The other two players were equally amazing!
The only thing was, they weren't very chatty with staff members, nor did they smile much. Before each game started, they always seemed to enjoy trading a few curse words with each other. They seemed rather difficult to approach.
But coming from prestigious organizations with such strength, being a bit arrogant was probably normal.
However, what the young referee never expected was that the Free team was so bold that after winning the match, they didn't hug, didn't disassemble their peripherals, didn't rush to embrace their coaching staff in the back room in tears. Instead, they remained seated at their positions, waiting for something.
Waiting for what?
Did players from major regions have some special ritual unique to their culture?
This didn't follow the normal post-match protocol, so naturally the referee had to ask whether the players needed to exit the soundproof room now that the match was over.
Evil, the youngest player on the team, replied unhurriedly: "Not yet. I'm waiting for them to finish deleting their accounts before we leave."
...
This young, innocent, unworldly referee from Bolivia, Latin America, took half a step backward at the World Championship quarterfinals that year, his pupils dilating in shock as he felt the crushing impact of a truly ruthless culture.
So this was how major regions played against major regions?
This was how elite clubs clashed?
This was how star players operated?
Only now did the young referee understand the meaning behind the cheering that had filled the arena throughout the entire third game.
The audience wasn't mocking. Someone was actually deleting their account!
How precious a player's account is needs no elaboration. To put it dramatically, this was no different from demolishing the opposing club's base and then tearing their team banner apart in front of them.
Beyond the shock, a new respect—tinged with fear—grew in the young referee's eyes as he watched the young Free players.
Even if his experience was lacking, he'd never in his life seen a match like THIS!!
They were playing quarterfinals, the kind where the loser deletes their account.
...Terrifying Eastern clubs.
The young referee looked the freshly-adult Evil player up and down, unable to rule out the possibility that this legendary player—known for being arrogant enough to challenge heaven—was just joking. He quietly asked the head referees and the Holy Sword side's referee through his radio.
But within ten seconds, the Holy Sword side referee's voice came through the radio:
"...It's real. Several members of Holy Sword are already deleting their accounts."
The young referee: "..."
The broadcast director was also full of mischief, cutting the feed to Evil's monitor.
Evil's monitor screen was simultaneously displayed on the arena's massive screen.
What appeared on the screen was a finished game. Both teams' player IDs appeared on either side of the client.
Free on the left, Holy Sword on the right.
Evil knew the director had cut to his screen. He turned his head and smiled, then deliberately expanded the game client to enormous size, showing only the right side where Holy Sword's player IDs were displayed, making it crystal clear for the audience.
A few seconds later—
In the client, Holy Sword team's healer's ID vanished.
Not the normal graying out that occurred when an account went offline, but complete disappearance.
Everyone understood the significance. This account had been destroyed at that very moment.
The China region audience, after a brief moment of silence, erupted completely.
A few seconds more.
Holy Sword team's sniper's ID vanished...
Holy Sword team's assaulter's ID vanished...
Every time an account vanished, the arena erupted in cheers once more.
The China region players who had been insulted and mocked by all sides since before the World Championship began had, on this day in Europe, thoroughly reclaimed their honor.
As Holy Sword's captain, the assaulter's ID vanished, all four Holy Sword players' IDs had completely disappeared from the client.
Whisper watched the empty game client, exited the match, and opened his in-game friend list.
The young referee's eye caught that Whisper's friend list had a group called 《Victim List》.
Whisper gazed at this group, his tone calm: "Continue."
The young referee was completely confused. Continue what? Continue with what?
Moments later, the director switched the camera to Whisper's monitor again. The audience watched Whisper's friend group, somehow first bursting into laughter before continuing to chant Free's team ID.
Inside the soundproof room, Puppy leaned back in his gaming chair, laughing so hard he slapped his own thigh as he watched Whisper's friend group. He kindly explained to the young referee: "These are IDs of other Holy Sword Club members. The top one is their owner, the next is their manager."
The referee felt suffocated.
He couldn't say for certain this was the most spectacular match of the tournament, but he could definitely confirm it was the highest-rated match of the tournament!
The officials joining in on the fun—how could anyone withstand that?
Chen Huo was also laughing so hard he could barely stay seated: "The organizing committee is something else. They actually synced our interface the whole time. I thought we'd settle our grudge privately after the match. We privately agreed to a delete-account battle, so why did the officials jump in on the fun?"
"You think the officials don't hate Holy Sword?" Puppy said coldly, "Tell me, which club attacks every other participating team one by one before the matches even start?"
"Which club with even a shred of competitive spirit would manipulate their group stage results to disrupt tournament fairness for the sake of personal grudges?"
"Which club's executives would use alt accounts to personally attack other players, specifically trying to destroy people's mentality before the matches?"
"We can't openly punish them, so can't we at least kick them while they're down after the match?"
Of course we can.
The broadcast team was livestreaming Whisper's friend interface. With Holy Sword's bet in place, under the watchful eyes of millions, they had no choice but to delete.
IDs in the group vanished one by one. When it was finally empty, the match officially drew to a close. The players rose one after another, beginning to disassemble their peripherals at a leisurely pace.
The young referee couldn't help himself and tentatively asked Evil from the Free team: "Um... does every team that plays against you have to delete their accounts after losing?"
The young referee spoke humbly: "I have a team I really like. They also made it to the quarterfinals, um... I'm not sure if they'll face you."
Evil: "..."
The other Free players burst out laughing.
Evil turned back and gave the referee a complicated look. After a moment, he said: "...Don't worry. Only Holy Sword gets this treatment."
The young referee felt relieved. He nodded: "That's good, that's good."
Evil gathered his peripherals with his mousepad and took two steps toward the exit. He looked at the referee: "Think we're being excessive? Think we're being overbearing?"
The young referee hastily shook his head. He didn't know the full story, so he wouldn't judge.
He just thought this was way too intense.
Evil glanced at Whisper beside him and said flatly: "If we had lost today, Holy Sword would have barged right into this soundproof room, and there, using our computers, they would have permanently deleted our team's legendary account. Then they would have made a video of the whole process and looped it at every tournament venue where we appeared afterward. Do you believe that?"
The referee's experience was lacking, but he had heard about Holy Sword's behavior patterns. This really... was exactly the kind of thing they would do.
Evil said: "We didn't start this. The moment they dared provoke us, they should have been prepared to have us grind them into the dirt. Sorry, our team doesn't have any saints."
"But we won't be as lowdown as them... Today, once the accounts are deleted, it's over. Bridges are bridges, roads are roads."
"Deleting their accounts... is simply taking back what they took from us."
What had been taken?
The referee swallowed, not daring to ask. After some thought, perhaps it was dignity.
Although he had been out of the loop the entire time and didn't know what had happened, watching the young Free players' fingers tremble from pain as they disassembled their peripherals, watching the faint relief in their eyes at this moment, watching their tall figures walk out of the soundproof room...
He couldn't help but feel that these young men must have gone through much pain that couldn't be spoken of.
What they did today was probably righteous.
The players reclaiming their dignity through competition—wasn't this what fairness in esports was all about?
The aura of these young players from the China region's elite club was too overwhelming. Only after they had left the soundproof room did the young referee finally let out a long breath.
While relaxing, he suddenly noticed that Whisper had forgotten to log out of his account. The staff who would come soon to inspect equipment and clean the soundproof room were about to arrive, and leaving an account open like that wasn't safe. The young referee prepared to log Whisper out.
While logging out, he casually glanced at Whisper's friend list and was surprised to find that the "Victim List" group had been renamed.
It was now changed to: 《It's All Over》
The young referee clicked his tongue in admiration. Whisper was so cool. A real man changed the group name without looking back! A real man doesn't log out after a match!
Those things he didn't know about—apparently, for Whisper, they were already in the past.
...
But some people clearly weren't over it yet.
The young referee looked toward the other soundproof room in the distance, at Holy Sword's captain who, humiliated and enraged, had been smashing equipment nonstop. He shrugged.
A sore loser. No class. Not cool at all.