Chapter 189

The first game began amidst eager anticipation, with the game interface appearing on the large surrounding screens. Ten heroes descended onto the red and blue spawn points, and the screams of the audience below surged into a frenzy. The commentators waited for the cheers to subside before speaking, “The audience is really enthusiastic today.”

“Indeed, everyone has been looking forward to today’s match for a long time, hoping both teams can deliver an exciting game.”

On the screen, the positioning of both teams was very delicate.

DSG’s jungler and support gathered in the brush behind the red buff area, while REAL’s jungler and support lurked in the brush near the dragon.

The level one collision was about to happen.

REAL’s support stepped forward, cautiously placing a ward to check vision. The four men hiding in the brush almost scared him out of his wits, “Retreat!”

Too late.

DSG quickly engaged, and their support’s Flash and Ignite combo took down the Pixie, instantly granting “First Blood,” echoing throughout the stadium as fans cheered incessantly.

“Wow, they got outplayed at level one!”

“And the mid laner even got the first blood, Tsar taking a kill at level one, Scream, what do you think?”

Zuo Ming frowned, bluntly saying, “The Demon Queen can fight.”

Enchantress had a restraining effect on the Tsar in terms of game mechanics.

The Tsar was known as a prominent mage in the mid lane, excelling in poking and, once formed, unleashing sand soldiers in team fights to effortlessly chip away at enemies’ health. His ultimate, Imperial March, could push enemies, potentially turning a 1v5 situation in team fights, making him a typical hero MY would use.

On the other hand, Ye Chi’s chosen Enchantress was highly mobile, flexible in mechanics, and explosive in burst damage. She pursued solo kills in lane and focused on single-target burst damage in team fights, making her a strong hero throughout all game phases. Despite several updates, she maintained her position in the assassin mid laner category thanks to her ability to create illusions.

Both these heroes were essential in the mid lane, challenging the basic skills of mid lane players with their respective focuses on area-of-effect attacks and single-target kills. As Zuo Ming said, because the Tsar’s mechanics weren’t as flexible as Enchantress’s, Enchantress could freely pressure the Tsar in lane during the early game, while it was challenging for the Tsar’s skills to hit the elusive Enchantress.

Mo Yin quickly returned to base to upgrade his equipment after securing First Blood.

In professional matches, the laning phase was crucial, especially in the early stages. Even a small item advantage could greatly benefit one side in lane if the strength gap wasn’t significant.

Especially for players like Mo Yin, whose laning phase strength was already maxed out.

Despite the early First Blood advantage, the Tsar surprisingly suppressed his natural nemesis, Enchantress, in lane.

“This scene looks familiar.”

“Didn’t something like this happen during the Spring Split? REAL gave away First Blood at level one and then got pushed all the way back.”

Zuo Ming remained silent until he saw the enemy jungler, Wei, taking the Red Buff towards mid lane. His eyes lit up, “Wei is ganking mid.”

“Crazy, rehearsing?”

“I’m playing normally,” Ye Chi’s tone was tense, “if I rehearse, he’ll find out.”

“Okay, then I’ll wait.”

“Their jungler should be on the top lane.”

“Got it.”

The commentators from the god-view perspective watched Wei patiently lurking in the brush while Enchantress casually laned against the Tsar, who seemed completely oblivious to the imminent danger. Fans couldn’t help but shout “MY run!” Unfortunately, the soundproof headphones made it impossible for players to hear anything other than team communication and game voice outside the soundproofing.

“The top lane on the opposite side found me.”

Guan Ming realized something, “Wei seems to be lurking nearby.”

Qin Kunlun said, “It’s okay, I can handle it myself.”

“I’ll check their Red Buff area.”

Guan Ming boldly ran towards the enemy’s Red Buff area, but just as he crossed the wall, he spotted them in the brush. Ye Chi immediately said, “Go!”

Enchantress suddenly flashed and ignited, and the moment the ignite skill hit him, Mo Yin realized what was happening. He immediately used his sand soldiers to move towards the tower, but in that moment, a strange force suddenly paralyzed Mo Yin’s fingers—

On screen, Wei struck with his lockdown, Enchantress relocated again, and the jungler and mid laner cooperated seamlessly, knocking down the helpless Tsar.

“Beautiful!”

Zuo Ming exclaimed, “The jungle coordination from REAL was perfectly executed!”

As the commentary continued, it was the first time Zuo Ming’s face showed genuine satisfaction. The barrage was immediately flooded with comments like “counter-attack” and “reckoning” from the fans, drowning out all other remarks.

The score went from 1:0 in kills to 1:1.

The early advantage of the Tsar was completely wiped out in this exchange.

After respawning, Mo Yin calmly updated his equipment. His fingers, which had been numb just moments ago, now regained their sensitivity.

In the previous championship match, he had suffered a mental attack during a crucial team fight, experiencing dizziness that impaired his ability to play. Realizing the trick, he used his mental strength to resist the attack in the next crucial team fight, securing victory for his team.

This time, he was playing even more aggressively.

It was just a gank, but his fingers felt momentarily paralyzed as if shocked.

Mo Yin smiled faintly.

Angry?

Not at all.

As a lonely yet powerful natural person, the most fatal flaw in his life had always been boredom. He hadn’t understood that it was called loneliness before, but now this so-called “world line” might not understand what it meant to be powerful.

His mental strength overflowed from his consciousness, intertwining invisibly at the edges. Mental tendrils coiled around each other, protecting every inch of bone, muscle, every region of the brain, every organ, and even every drop of blood, forming an intricate mental shield.

Mo Yin felt his heartbeat accelerate almost instantly, blood rushing faster through his veins, his body operating at its limits.

His lips curled slightly.

Want to attack him?

Come and try.

He clicked the mouse to purchase new equipment, and the Tsar reappeared in the mid lane.

The broadcast camera swept over him. Mo Yin appeared calm as usual, seemingly unaffected by the previous gank. His composed demeanor gradually eased the anxiety of the fans in the audience.

MY wouldn’t disappoint them.

After returning to the lane following the gank, the Tsar seemed to activate some sort of buff, aggressively and steadily dominating the lane against the Enchantress, adhering to the principle of going all-in with every opportunity. After a brief respite, the Tsar returned to the lane and successfully caught the Enchantress again with perfect maneuvering and ultimate, entering his own tower, with the Enchantress barely escaping after flashing out of the tower.

“The Tsar awakens!” The commentators were stunned by this brilliant counter-gank operation, their voices full of excitement.

The bottom lane erupted into a 2v2 shortly after, and the Tsar, who had only lost a bit of health in the mid lane, suddenly appeared in the bottom lane, summoning Sand Soldiers to catch the enemy off guard.

Afterwards, the Tsar continued to showcase brilliant maneuvers on the battlefield, supporting his team with spectacular operations, and turning the entire match into his own stage. Whether it was on any lane, the Tsar’s figure seemed to descend from the heavens.

During the Baron fight, the Tsar flashed behind the wall, entered the crowd, and released his ultimate, single-handedly pushing five enemies into the Dragon pit, instantly maximizing his damage.

The commentators exclaimed excitedly, “The Tsar enters the stage, REAL is about to collapse!”

As the commentators shouted, REAL was wiped out in response.

The golden hero stood holding his scepter amidst the bodies, surrounded by summoned Sand Soldiers.

The commentators couldn’t help but recite the Tsar’s lines, “Shurima, your Tsar has returned! This is MY’s Tsar! Don’t stand in the way of the Tsar! No one can stop me from defending my throne!”

Throughout the team fight, Zuo Ming remained silent.

This was such a typical MY-style victory.

One person’s power covered the entire field.

The fans’ screams almost overturned the stadium in layers.

The broadcast cut back to Mo Yin, who maintained the same expression throughout, whether he was ganked or performed an extreme operation. He looked calm and confident, with everything under control.

As the game ended, Mo Yin took off his headphones and left the stage.

The audience below shouted his ID like a landslide.

But he walked quickly, showing no nostalgia for the overwhelming admiration.

Entering the backstage area, Mo Yin immediately separated from the crowd.

“MY—” Tang Qi called out.

“Bathroom.”

Mo Yin answered without looking back.

Once inside the bathroom, he quickly slipped into a cubicle, sat down without hesitation, and knelt on the floor.

His entire body felt like his blood vessels were about to burst, muscles trembling, and sharp pain seeping through the gaps in his bones.

Mo Yin bit his lip, his teeth chattering slightly with the exertion of his facial muscles.

One minute, two minutes, three minutes passed.

His breathing gradually steadied.

Unlike the scene of his nosebleed frenzy last time, this time the damage was deeper within his body. Mo Yin clearly felt that a part of his body had suffered severe, irreversible damage, causing him to groan in pain.

With his palm against the wall, Mo Yin slowly stood up from the ground, walked out of the cubicle, and saw his face in the bathroom mirror.

His cheeks were slightly flushed, eyes bright, looking remarkably spirited.

Good.

After a brief rest, the players returned to the stage.

In the second game, REAL applied to switch sides, and DSG moved to the red side.

From the broadcast footage, the members of REAL appeared mentally stable, chatting and laughing, much calmer than the toxic fans on the forums.

Both teams had deep hero pools, and their picks and bans were evenly matched.

In the highly anticipated mid lane matchup, Ye Chi chose Akali, while Mo Yin picked Enchantress, a champion rarely seen in professional matches in recent years.

Due to its mechanical intricacies, Enchantress had a low margin for error, and players who played Enchantress often got carried away with flashy plays, easily dying in ranked matches, with a very low skill floor. For a long time, whenever teammates picked Enchantress in the game, they were mocked as orphans.

After undergoing several nerfs in professional matches, Enchantress’s strength gradually faded from the arena, appearing only occasionally in bottom lane compositions or as experimental picks.

When Enchantress appeared in the mid lane, both the commentators and the audience were shocked.

“MY’s Enchantress, I haven’t seen it before. Scream, have you?”

Zuo Ming still seemed to be lost in the previous game, showing a sour expression as he took the stage for the second game without saying a word. After hearing the commentator’s question, he reluctantly replied, “I’ve seen him use it in scrims.”

“Oh? How is MY’s Enchantress?”

“…It’s okay.”

Zuo Ming appeared extremely reluctant, giving only those two words as his evaluation.

Even if he disliked Mo Yin’s personality and resented Mo Yin for kicking him out of the team, Zuo Ming couldn’t lie with his eyes open.

Mo Yin never played poorly with any champion.

In the first game, except for being ganked in the first wave, he played flawlessly as the Tsar.

There was a sense of frustration in his heart.

He wanted to vent but had nowhere to vent.

In the second game, both sides fought fiercely, with the economic curve fluctuating like the fans’ heart rates.

Enchantress, a champion often ridiculed as an orphan hero in daily ranked games, reached its peak potential in Mo Yin’s hands. Zuo Ming stared at every dash, engagement, and ultimate by Mo Yin on stage, trying to find any mistakes Mo Yin might make, given that this champion was prone to errors.

None.

Advantages, disadvantages, laning, team fights—he had already pushed Enchantress to its limits.

As Enchantress dashed through the crowd, releasing his skills, double slashing with his twin blades, every move of his stirred screams from the fans and excited commentary from the casters.

A genius mid laner, a superstar.

43:16, game over.

DSG 2:0 REAL.

The forums, which initially anticipated DSG’s failure, had collectively gone silent. Fans flooded the threads with clown emojis under predictions that gave REAL a chance.

Someone posted, “Don’t worry, turning the tables from 2:0 isn’t impossible,” and the most popular reply was, “Now is fantasy time ^_^.”

The core issue of forum discussions was no longer whether REAL could defeat DSG, but “can they win a single game?”

Just one game?

For the sake of the game’s entertainment, commentators usually brainstormed strategies for the weaker side in a 2:0 scenario. On stage, the commentators asked Zuo Ming, “Zuo Ming, what adjustments do you think REAL should make now to have a chance at winning?”

In both games, Zuo Ming was initially reserved in his words, and in the second game, he followed the game’s ups and downs. Although both teams fought back and forth, he continued to strategize for REAL, saying how they could capitalize on opportunities. However, subconsciously, he had already made a judgment while staring at Mo Yin’s operations through the magnifying glass.

As long as Mo Yin is still standing, as long as Mo Yin doesn’t make mistakes, as long as Mo Yin wants to win…

On stage, the players return once again.

Mo Yin looks like he’s just washed his face, his hair still damp. When adjusting his headphones, he seems annoyed by the wet bangs on his forehead. He lifts his hand to push his hair back, the headphones pressing down on the bangs, revealing his whole face. He appears calm but also somewhat tired, leaning back in the esports chair with his eyes closed.

There’s no deliberate display of strength or confidence in his expression or actions, yet everyone, including his teammates, looks at him with awe and respect.

This person, is so arrogant, yet so strong. His dominance seems so natural, infuriating yet undeniable.

Zuo Ming looks away, pinching the cue card stiffly. “No chance.”

Instantly, question marks flood the comments.

“It looks like it’s going to end 3:0,” Zuo Ming says with a serious expression.

And so it is.

When DSG once again pushes REAL’s base to level, the commentators exclaim, “Scream is truly knowledgeable about his former team, showing his insight.” Not a word is mentioned about Zuo Ming’s prediction before the match, REAL 3:2 DSG.

Except for the cheers from the fans below, the rest of the audience falls silent. At this moment, their thoughts are almost identical to Zuo Ming’s.

Too strong, it suppresses even fear.

On stage, DSG’s players take off their headphones and rise to fist bump their opponents.

The REAL players, on the other hand, appear calm as they fist bump each DSG player one by one.

When Ye Chi and Mo Yin fist bump, the brief contact leaves Ye Chi slightly dazed.

Mo Yin’s hand is warm.

He turns to look back at Mo Yin, whose cheeks are flushed and hair damp.

Rolling up his mouse and keyboard, just like the previous match, Mo Yin quickly leaves the stage.

The REAL players are still packing up their equipment. Ye Chi frowns as he watches Mo Yin head off, his shoulder nudged by a teammate. “Are you okay, Fēng?”

“I’m fine.”

Although today’s match ended 3:0, they had all given their best. They had persisted in every game until the end, just falling short. The gap wasn’t insurmountable, and they had already anticipated the possible outcome before the match. Though they were still greatly dissatisfied, they still had another chance.

Ye Chi and the others leave as well. Backstage, Ye Chi hands his equipment to Chen Dong. “I’m going to the restroom.”

Separated from his teammates, Ye Chi texts Mo Yin as he heads towards the secure passage. At the doorway, he overhears a conversation.

“I admit you played well today, but you’re human too. There will come a day when your form slips!”

“And?”

“Do you never think you’re wrong about anything?”

“Are you referring to kicking you out of the team?”

“…”

“I don’t think I did anything wrong in that matter.”

“In your heart, is there no such thing as teammate camaraderie? Do you look down on everyone deep down?”

Zuo Ming’s voice sounds unusually agitated. Ye Chi’s hand inadvertently touches the door.

“Exactly.”

Mo Yin’s voice comes coldly from behind the door. “I really do look down on all of you. Can you leave now?”

With a bang, the door pushes open. Zuo Ming walks out angrily. He and Ye Chi lock eyes briefly. Ye Chi’s expression is restrained, while Zuo Ming glares at him fiercely and walks away. Ye Chi pushes open the door and enters the passage.

Mo Yin leans against the corridor wall with his mouse pad and keyboard rolled up, eyes lowered.

Zuo Ming stopped him halfway through.

When his body was exhausted, in desperate need of relief.

“Are you okay?”

Ye Chi approached. For some reason, he felt Mo Yin’s current state was a bit strange. He reached out gently and touched Mo Yin’s shoulder.

The next second, Mo Yin moved his shoulder away. Ye Chi was slightly stunned and didn’t attempt to touch him again.

Having unintentionally witnessed Mo Yin and his former teammates’ confrontation, Ye Chi didn’t know what to say to comfort Mo Yin. He didn’t think Zuo Ming was right. Mo Yin didn’t look down on people. Victory or defeat, strength or weakness, were all objective facts. Mo Yin was harsh on others but even harsher on himself, viewing the world fairly through his own principles.

“Today, I lost to you again,” Ye Chi said slowly. “But I won’t give up. I’ll fight my way up from the losers’ bracket and challenge you again.”

Mo Yin remained silent.

Three consecutive high-intensity matches had brought his body to the brink of exhaustion. He had to exert immense willpower to prevent any weaknesses from showing in front of Ye Chi. Ye Chi had performed exceptionally well today, which was why the three matches had stretched nearly two hours.

Leaning against the wall, Mo Yin straightened his back to prevent himself from slumping. He lifted his eyes to meet Ye Chi’s challenging gaze. Despite the piercing pain, he smiled faintly and spoke with a touch of warmth, “Good luck. I look forward to it.”