Chapter 84
Under He Youjin’s merciless interrogation, both Xia Xiaotong’s secret takeout incident and Lin Mingfei’s “gropey hands” scandal came to light. The alpha and omega stood like two scolded elementary school kids, facing the wall while He Youjin laid into them.
“So what if you’re good at games! So what if you’re handsome! You mess up, you still get yelled at by me!” He Youjin scolded with his hands on his hips. “Xia Xiaotong, if your back hurts, you come to me! I’ll get that brilliant old Master Fang from last time! What good is he gonna do you, huh? I told you before—alphas are no good, did you forget? If one of them shoves a bun in your belly at a time like this, how are you gonna compete? You’ll end up stuck in the hospital, getting roasted by fans online! They’ll say you delayed the tournament! I’m not threatening you, but when the suffering starts, you’ll be the one paying for it!”
Lin Mingfei: “…Come on, can you not make me sound like some kind of pervert?”
He Youjin shot back, “Aren’t you?”
Lin Mingfei: “…”
Xia Tong bit his lip, cheeks and ears flushed red. He reached out to grab He Youjin’s arm, giving it a little shake. “Aiya, Manager He, I know I was wrong, okay? Don’t be so mad—getting angry’s bad for your health, you could grow a tumor! And if you collapse, we’d all lose our backbone! We’d be so, so sad!”
Zhou Yanjun, Shi Ya, and Bo Yu had been watching the whole drama unfold from the sidelines. Zhou elbowed Shi Ya and whispered, “Timer, I think this little guy’s changed a lot lately… His EQ’s skyrocketing, and his mouth’s gotten so smooth.”
Shi Ya said coolly, “Be more confident—remove the words ‘I think.’”
Bo Yu chimed in, objectively, “Xia Tong’s always been a quick learner. Look, just a few days ago he was still getting chased around in the arena, and now he can basically survive till the end. Give him another day or two, and I bet he’ll be able to kite enemies while outputting damage. For someone who started from zero, that’s remarkable.”
Zhou Yanjun grumbled with envy, “Ah, omegas really do have it good—light, flexible bodies. How did the league not notice this advantage before?”
“That has nothing to do with being an omega,” Shi Ya said with an eyeroll. “Xia Tong didn’t just get good out of nowhere—he’s been secretly taking notes.”
“Notes?”
“Yeah,” Shi Ya said. “He’s been writing down every opposing team’s skill patterns, reviewing them, comparing them, and figuring out ways to counter each one. I only found out by accident—he’s got a whole pile of little notebooks.”
Bo Yu sighed. “So in the end, success really does come from hard work and dedication.”
Zhou Yanjun said, “Eh… I know this sounds kinda annoying, but seriously—memorizing every opponent’s skill rotation? That’s not something an average person could do. Could you? Could you?” He pointed at Bo Yu, then at Shi Ya. “I know I couldn’t.”
Shi Ya and Bo Yu exchanged glances. “…Well…”
Zhou Yanjun hugged his protein lunch and sighed. “Sigh, in the end, the little guy really is just smarter than the rest of us.”
Meanwhile, while Polaris was taking a break to eat and rest, most of the other teams—except for Saber-Tooth—were still stuck in the treacherous Scorpion-Eye Trench, reliving the same misery Polaris had gone through days earlier.
Among them, Team Wuhen was making the fastest progress, finally stumbling their way to the third level. Teams like KuQ, Rainbow, and Nine-Headed Bird, however, were all being destroyed by the twin koi dealers, helpless without a card genius to carry them.
Spectators in the livestream chat were equally frustrated.
[I can’t believe I called Polaris trash back then. Looking at this now, I owe them an apology.]
[Same here, +1.]
[+10086.]
After waking up from his nap, Lin Mingfei checked his Weibo inbox and found several private messages—all asking Z-God to share his “Scorpion-Eye Trench speedrun guide.”
Propping one arm behind his head, he clicked through a few of the senders’ profiles. Every single one was a blank, freshly made bot account. Lin Mingfei narrowed his eyes and decided to log into his own Weibo to post a live update.
[There’s no speed-clear guide. If there was one, our team wouldn’t have spent almost a week clearing it, only to get roasted that badly afterward.]
The post was accompanied by a meme that said, “Is this a beaver?”
Unlike Shi Ya, who only posts once in a blue moon, Lin Mingfei rarely updates—maybe once every few centuries. So when he actually made a post, his millions of Weibo followers swarmed in like they’d discovered a new continent.
[What did I just witness! What did I just witness!! The child who skips naps gets meat to eat!!]
[This damn alpha just came back from the dead!!! He actually posted!!]
[Ha, I was literally about to unfollow this afternoon! You’re just in time.]
[Z-God’s being cute!! That expression is adorable!!]
[I swear Z-God is a long-time lurker—this meme is way too on point for the moment.]
[So what happened? Someone ask you for a speed-clear guide for Scorpion-Eye Trench, sweetheart?]
[Obviously. Everyone who flamed Team P before is now crawling back for tips—talk about a slap in the face!]
[Hubby! Ignore them! Let them go eat peach! (pun for “let them dream”)]
…
For every wave of affectionate fans, there were also haters flocking from miles away just to stir up trouble.
[Heh, you do have a speed-clear guide, you’re just hoarding it! Afraid people will catch up to you? So scared of losing?]
[Back in the day, when Polaris cleared the White Snow Palace, they immediately published a guide. That was the spirit of a real champion. And now? Loser.]
[What’s so great about a team that’s in bed with the game devs anyway?]
[You’re just throwing money at the devs—acting like you’re rich or something. Why don’t you just ask them to courier the championship trophy straight to your club door?]
[Watch your mouth up there. Got proof? Otherwise that’s defamation, and I’ll sue.]
[Why should they have to publish a guide right after clearing it? You think the club has nothing better to do? Who are you trying to guilt-trip?]
[Why aren’t you hounding Saber-Tooth instead? Didn’t they just clear the Garloran Ruins yesterday? Where’s their guide?]
[Exactly! Saber-Tooth didn’t write a guide for everyone’s benefit either—why demand one from Z-God? Double standards much?]
[We’re not writing a guide for you worms—so what? Mad about it? Weren’t you the ones looking down on PVX content anyway?]
[Besides, aren’t there already guides on the forums for Scorpion-Eye Trench? Just clear it floor by floor—what “speed-clear guide” are you even talking about?]
[Maybe your idol’s just too dumb to understand the existing guides. Don’t try to deflect here.]
…
Before long, that single post had racked up over a thousand comments.
Lin Mingfei, of course, didn’t care what anyone said. He’d only posted it to piss off a few people hiding in the shadows.
After washing up, he stepped out of the bedroom—only to get caught by He Youjin again.
“Why’d you even bother posting?” He Youjin said helplessly. “Just ignore them and pretend you didn’t see anything. Look, they’re fighting again.”
“Let them fight,” Lin Mingfei said lazily, coffee in hand as he headed downstairs.
“They’re calling you afraid of losing. Petty. Selfish.” He Youjin sighed. “You know, I think you might actually have a bit of a masochistic streak—you can’t go a day without people yelling at you, can you?”
“Ah, you got me there.” Lin Mingfei smiled. “I just like watching some people jump up and down in anger when they can’t do anything about me. They’re like… cicadas in summer. Won’t be buzzing for much longer.”
Before He Youjin could reply, his phone started vibrating. He looked down—and froze.
“Holy crap, it’s Coach Song from Rainbow! I’m gonna take this call.”
“Go ahead,” said Lin Mingfei.
A moment later, He Youjin came back, scratching his head in disbelief.
“Coach Song from Rainbow says if you’re willing to share even a little bit of the speed-clear guide for Scorpion-Eye Trench, they’ll free up time to do a scrim with us!”
Lin Mingfei gave him a look full of ‘bless your dumb heart’ energy.
“Did you forget we already scheduled a scrim with Saber-Tooth?”
“I didn’t forget,” He Youjin said. “But… wouldn’t another one be harmless? Maybe even good practice?”
“Where would we even find the time? Rainbow just lost to us. Scheduling a scrim with them—who’s training who, exactly?” Lin Mingfei’s tone was merciless. “And besides, having their coach call just to ask for a guide… I can’t believe they actually did that. Unbelievable.”
“I should’ve recorded it, huh?” He Youjin said, belatedly realizing. “That kind of embarrassment—”
“Or,” Lin Mingfei said suddenly, eyes glinting with mischief, “you could call them back. Tell them the speed-clear guide for Scorpion-Eye Trench is just one line: ‘Once you clear it, you can speed-clear it.’”
He Youjin went quiet for a long moment before saying dryly,
“I have a feeling people who don’t know the context will think I’m trolling them—and then ambush me after work, drag me into a dark alley, and beat me up. So, to protect my personal safety—and to avoid falling into your sinister little trap—I think I’ll pass, thanks.”
Feel free to buy me a coffee/show your support on ko-fi! Thank you ❤
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