TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 90

Lin Mingfei always had a way of cutting straight through confusion with a single sentence. After being shaken and guided by him, Xia Tong’s mind cleared completely.

This round, he fully let go of his obsession with winning or losing. He told himself clearly: he just wanted to see how far Sabertooth’s prepared setups could really go. He would respond to change with constancy.

—As long as he figured out the enemy’s strategy, he’d achieved his goal.

So he simply stood still, thinking that at worst Dylan would treat him like a wooden target and snipe him dead.

Then he watched Sabertooth’s four players complete an entire smooth, flowing “mime performance” within a dozen seconds.

If it had been the Xia Tong from the previous game—like a startled bird at the mere twang of a bowstring—he would have panicked and started repositioning the moment Dylan and Goblin launched their near-simultaneous attacks. He would have rushed to use obstacles for cover and fallen precisely into the blind corner between the pillars—the cage Dylan had designed for him.

But this time, Xia Tong didn’t follow the script. After taking a few steps, he doubled back. That small mistake turned into a lucky accident, causing Sabertooth’s formation to overcommit and get partially stuck in the very blind corner Dylan had so carefully chosen.

Only Yoyo remained floating in midair, wide open in Polaris’s full field of vision—

—and subjected to five death glares.

When Xia Tong suggested focusing Yoyo, he felt a bit reluctant. After all, Yoyo’s situation in Sabertooth was almost identical to his own.

Yoyo was chased down relentlessly and died in seconds. With Sabertooth’s healer gone, the rest quickly collapsed.

After exiting the game, Xia Tong replayed the scene in his head and sighed softly, rubbing his forehead.

“Yoyo’s really pitiful… we’re kindred spirits. Four people were chasing him! He didn’t even get to use a single skill! He just rolled and rolled and died!” he said with heartfelt sympathy.

Just then, the other four Polaris members also exited the map and happened to hear his lament. Each of them wore an expression of chilly disbelief.

Bo Yu: “…Wait, what? You actually feel sorry for Yoyo?”

Zhou Yanjun: “But you were the one who practically burned Yoyo’s wings off just now.”

Shi Ya: “That’s sarcasm, right? Right?”

Xia Tong turned his head in confusion. “Nooo, I really do sympathize with Yoyo. His teammates are so unreliable. They sell him out at the drop of a hat.”

“If it happened again?” Lin Mingfei crossed his arms with a faint smile. “Who would you hit?”

Without hesitation, Xia Tong answered, “Yoyo!”

The four people around him burst out laughing.

“Excellent. Very hypocritical. You’ve officially become a true esports player,” Zhou Yanjun gave him a thumbs-up.

“What kind of dye vat is our team? How did we turn once-pure-and-kind Xia Xiaotong into this?” Shi Ya said, half laughing, half crying. “None of you are innocent.”

Lin Mingfei laughed along and raised a fist to Xia Tong’s mouth like a microphone. “Quick interview, Xia Xiaotong—what prompted your rapid growth into someone so ruthless?”

“It was…” Xia Tong opened his mouth, then hesitated. His moist, clear eyes brushed over Lin Mingfei’s face unintentionally before settling firmly between the alpha’s brows, warm and steady.

Lin Mingfei froze under that gaze. For some reason, his heart skipped a beat, a premature-contraction-like flutter spreading through his chest. Flustered and unable to withstand such gentle emotion, he hurriedly turned his head and changed the subject. “Alright, enough. Fix your gear, adjust your skills. Get ready for game three.”

—

Meanwhile, when Yoyo exited the arena, his mentality had completely collapsed.

“What the hell were you guys doing?! Why were you blocking my vision?! I couldn’t heal anyone! I was just chasing you! And while I was chasing, Polaris caught me!!”

Goblin blurted out without thinking, “It was D-ge who told us to get first blood within thirty seconds—”

He hadn’t even finished when Dylan cut him off roughly. “When you cast your skill, didn’t you see Blink hadn’t moved? Couldn’t you say something? Or do you just play arena blind without using your eyes?”

Goblin was suddenly sprayed in the face for no reason and went blank. “I didn’t—what are you talking about?! If Blink didn’t move, shouldn’t you have called it first? You were the one staring at him!”

“I have to command. I have to oversee the whole situation. You expect me to report every tiny detail for you? Am I your nanny?” Dylan sneered.

Goblin flared up. “That’s not what I meant—damn it, why are you like this—”

“How am I? You want to slack off and be a freeloader and not get called out?” Dylan shot back sharply.

Seeing the two about to explode again, Yoyo hurriedly stepped in. “Enough, enough. Let’s not throw blame around. I died, fine, whatever.”

Molan also tried to smooth things over. “We were careless too. It all happened in a dozen seconds—no one had time to think. We were just playing off muscle memory.”

Robin King said in a low voice, “Blink’s smarter than we thought. He saw through our setup after just one round. We can’t play like that next game. Better stick to standard tactics.”

Molan added objectively, “Whether Blink’s smart isn’t the main point. The key is Zero’s there. Zero’s always been a tactical mastermind—sharp eyes as hell. Maybe we can fool him once with small tricks, but twice? Not likely. Let’s not count on luck.”

“If you ask me, it’s certain people lacking on-the-spot adaptability,” Dylan said darkly from the side. “When I shout ‘one, two, three, four,’ you just rigidly follow along? Since when did holo-esports turn into broadcast calisthenics?”

Goblin’s face flushed red. “You said we had to get first blood within thirty seconds. I trusted you! I wanted to fight for team honor—”

“Did you get it?” Dylan countered. “No? Then shut up.”

Dylan’s attitude was unyieldingly harsh. The scrim was only halfway through, and given Dylan’s status within the team, Goblin could only grit his teeth and swallow the rest of his retort.

They didn’t have much time to argue. The third game began quickly.

After the loading screen ended, both teams entered a frozen glacier world where icy winds carried flurries of snow. In the center of the rushing blue ice river stood a raised square platform. On it towered a stone stele engraved with a special totem—like some kind of switch.

“Damn it, how did we get this map?!” Zhou Yanjun clicked his tongue.

There were many arena maps. Most simply added random difficulty to PvP encounters, but a small portion had unique mechanics. For example, this “Ninefold Mystic Glacier” map: players who were severely injured could respawn infinitely at nearby spawn points. Only by destroying the “Ninefold Mystic Stele” on the platform could a team claim victory.

Compared to standard arena maps, this type was far more complex. It wasn’t just about killing each other—it could torture pure PvP players to death. Even the developers probably realized how difficult it was to design, so there weren’t many such maps, and the probability of randomly queuing into one was low.

But once you did—it was a headache.

Sabertooth and Polaris both sprinted toward the central stele at full speed, like runners in a 100-meter dash.

“Xia Tong, your burst damage is high—go start breaking the stele! We’ll hold them off!” Lin Mingfei shouted.

“Got it!”

Zhou Yanjun and Bo Yu received the order and dove into Sabertooth’s formation like lightning, forming a solid lock that directly blocked Molan and Goblin from pushing forward.

Without hesitation, Xia Tong bolted toward the ice river. The simulated temperature was extremely realistic—the freezing wind stung his face. He leapt lightly, his omega body agile, chanting in reverse as his skill lashed into the snow. Snow sprayed up, the recoil pushing him toward the central platform.

“I’m going up—!” Xia Tong shouted excitedly, reaching eagerly for the platform’s edge—

At that very moment, Molan broke free from Bo Yu’s restraint. The lightning-black panther lunged forward, releasing an earth-shaking roar.

Bo Yu: “…Wait, what? You actually feel sorry for Yoyo?”

Zhou Yanjun: “But you were the one who practically burned Yoyo’s wings off just now.”

Shi Ya: “That’s sarcasm, right? Right?”

Xia Tong turned his head in confusion. “Nooo, I really do sympathize with Yoyo. His teammates are so unreliable. They sell him out at the drop of a hat.”

“If it happened again?” Lin Mingfei crossed his arms with a faint smile. “Who would you hit?”

Without hesitation, Xia Tong answered, “Yoyo!”

The four people around him burst out laughing.

“Excellent. Very hypocritical. You’ve officially become a true esports player,” Zhou Yanjun gave him a thumbs-up.

“What kind of dye vat is our team? How did we turn once-pure-and-kind Xia Xiaotong into this?” Shi Ya said, half laughing, half crying. “None of you are innocent.”

Lin Mingfei laughed along and raised a fist to Xia Tong’s mouth like a microphone. “Quick interview, Xia Xiaotong—what prompted your rapid growth into someone so ruthless?”

“It was…” Xia Tong opened his mouth, then hesitated. His moist, clear eyes brushed over Lin Mingfei’s face unintentionally before settling firmly between the alpha’s brows, warm and steady.

Lin Mingfei froze under that gaze. For some reason, his heart skipped a beat, a premature-contraction-like flutter spreading through his chest. Flustered and unable to withstand such gentle emotion, he hurriedly turned his head and changed the subject. “Alright, enough. Fix your gear, adjust your skills. Get ready for game three.”

—

Meanwhile, when Yoyo exited the arena, his mentality had completely collapsed.

“What the hell were you guys doing?! Why were you blocking my vision?! I couldn’t heal anyone! I was just chasing you! And while I was chasing, Polaris caught me!!”

Goblin blurted out without thinking, “It was D-ge who told us to get first blood within thirty seconds—”

He hadn’t even finished when Dylan cut him off roughly. “When you cast your skill, didn’t you see Blink hadn’t moved? Couldn’t you say something? Or do you just play arena blind without using your eyes?”

Goblin was suddenly sprayed in the face for no reason and went blank. “I didn’t—what are you talking about?! If Blink didn’t move, shouldn’t you have called it first? You were the one staring at him!”

“I have to command. I have to oversee the whole situation. You expect me to report every tiny detail for you? Am I your nanny?” Dylan sneered.

Goblin flared up. “That’s not what I meant—damn it, why are you like this—”

“How am I? You want to slack off and be a freeloader and not get called out?” Dylan shot back sharply.

Seeing the two about to explode again, Yoyo hurriedly stepped in. “Enough, enough. Let’s not throw blame around. I died, fine, whatever.”

Molan also tried to smooth things over. “We were careless too. It all happened in a dozen seconds—no one had time to think. We were just playing off muscle memory.”

Robin King said in a low voice, “Blink’s smarter than we thought. He saw through our setup after just one round. We can’t play like that next game. Better stick to standard tactics.”

Molan added objectively, “Whether Blink’s smart isn’t the main point. The key is Zero’s there. Zero’s always been a tactical mastermind—sharp eyes as hell. Maybe we can fool him once with small tricks, but twice? Not likely. Let’s not count on luck.”

“If you ask me, it’s certain people lacking on-the-spot adaptability,” Dylan said darkly from the side. “When I shout ‘one, two, three, four,’ you just rigidly follow along? Since when did holo-esports turn into broadcast calisthenics?”

Goblin’s face flushed red. “You said we had to get first blood within thirty seconds. I trusted you! I wanted to fight for team honor—”

“Did you get it?” Dylan countered. “No? Then shut up.”

Dylan’s attitude was unyieldingly harsh. The scrim was only halfway through, and given Dylan’s status within the team, Goblin could only grit his teeth and swallow the rest of his retort.

They didn’t have much time to argue. The third game began quickly.

After the loading screen ended, both teams entered a frozen glacier world where icy winds carried flurries of snow. In the center of the rushing blue ice river stood a raised square platform. On it towered a stone stele engraved with a special totem—like some kind of switch.

“Damn it, how did we get this map?!” Zhou Yanjun clicked his tongue.

There were many arena maps. Most simply added random difficulty to PvP encounters, but a small portion had unique mechanics. For example, this “Ninefold Mystic Glacier” map: players who were severely injured could respawn infinitely at nearby spawn points. Only by destroying the “Ninefold Mystic Stele” on the platform could a team claim victory.

Compared to standard arena maps, this type was far more complex. It wasn’t just about killing each other—it could torture pure PvP players to death. Even the developers probably realized how difficult it was to design, so there weren’t many such maps, and the probability of randomly queuing into one was low.

But once you did—it was a headache.

Sabertooth and Polaris both sprinted toward the central stele at full speed, like runners in a 100-meter dash.

“Xia Tong, your burst damage is high—go start breaking the stele! We’ll hold them off!” Lin Mingfei shouted.

“Got it!”

Zhou Yanjun and Bo Yu received the order and dove into Sabertooth’s formation like lightning, forming a solid lock that directly blocked Molan and Goblin from pushing forward.

Without hesitation, Xia Tong bolted toward the ice river. The simulated temperature was extremely realistic—the freezing wind stung his face. He leapt lightly, his omega body agile, chanting in reverse as his skill lashed into the snow. Snow sprayed up, the recoil pushing him toward the central platform.

“I’m going up—!” Xia Tong shouted excitedly, reaching eagerly for the platform’s edge—

At that very moment, Molan broke free from Bo Yu’s restraint. The lightning-black panther lunged forward, releasing an earth-shaking roar.

With a thunderous boom, the beast’s roar unleashed a massive AOE shockwave that blasted the little wizard straight out of the air. The wind filled the wizard’s hood from behind, puffing it up like a giant parachute.

Xia Tong flailed wildly, fingers stretched to their limit, desperately trying to grab the iron chain on the platform—but he couldn’t catch it. Like a sheet of paper, he was dragged away by the “parachute” strapped to his back.

“Ahhh! Mom, save meee!!”

He tumbled helplessly midair, both pitiful and ridiculous—like a giant helium balloon. He tried desperately to stabilize himself, but it was useless. He was just too light. All he could do was watch the platform and stele grow farther and farther away until, with a loud splash, he plunged into the rushing icy river below.

The freezing cold and choking water stacked debuffs on him, draining his HP continuously. Dylan casually added two long-range shots, and that was it—he died and had to respawn and run back from the revival point.

Not only did that back-and-forth waste time, but history kept repeating itself. Every time he stood at the riverbank trying to leap toward the platform, the airflow and his wizard cloak would sabotage him, causing him to miss his target again and again.

The result needed no explanation—Sabertooth won.

After exiting, Xia Tong stomped his feet furiously. “Ahhhh I hate this map!!”

“My fault. Bad call. I shouldn’t have assigned you to break the stele,” Lin Mingfei raised his hand in surrender. “I should’ve gone.”

“But you need to command and observe the whole field,” Shi Ya said. “It couldn’t be helped.”

Zhou Yanjun was already swearing. “What the hell, how are we this unlucky to queue into this map? This isn’t PvP at all!”

Bo Yu replied flatly, “This is PvX.”

Xia Tong waved his fists, frustrated. “We should’ve just wiped Sabertooth once first! Then break the stele while they’re respawning!”

“If only it were that easy,” Lin Mingfei said with a helpless laugh. “The respawn points on this map aren’t far from the main battlefield. They can revive infinitely and rotate back instantly to drag it into a stall war. The best strategy is still to find an opening to break the stele.”

“I bet we won’t queue into this map again next round!” Xia Tong huffed.

The other four all shot him the same look: Please shut up.

Fourth round.

They loaded in.

In the howling wind, Zhou Yanjun and his White Wolf King both sneezed. He turned to glare at Xia Tong. “…Told you to keep your mouth shut!”

The ultimate jinx, Xia Xiaotong: “QwQ!!!”

Even Shi Ya abandoned his usual elegance, hunching his neck against the cold. “Twice in a row on this map? The odds have to be insanely low! If you told me the system bugged out, I’d believe it!”

Bo Yu kept a straight face. “So how do we play it?”

Lin Mingfei thought for two seconds. “Xia Tong, can your wizard run a control build?”

Xia Tong’s eyes lit up. He nodded vigorously. “I can! I can!”

“Then Xiao Bo, you go break the stele.”

“No problem.”

“Oh? So this round I team up with Shorty to block them?” Zhou Yanjun looked faintly excited.

“Exactly. If you can’t fully block them, at least pressure their HP. I’ll harvest kills as much as possible—make them run back to respawn a few more times,” Lin Mingfei said calmly.

“No, no, no! I can definitely block them!” Xia Tong insisted firmly. “Zero, trust me! I’ve practiced this!”

Even though Goblin had interrupted him that day, Xia Tong had still managed to obtain the enchantment he wanted—Bud’an’s Heartblood. Applied to a weapon, it gave every skill an 80% chance to inflict a slow effect.

MM Bean had once mentioned in an interview that this enchantment was somewhat lackluster. An 80% chance basically meant RNG—you cast a skill, and if you’re lucky, the enemy gets slowed; if not, it’s as if you never enchanted it at all. The uncertainty made many players prefer stable, attack-boosting enchants instead.

But Xia Tong was different.

Thanks to his physical advantage, his global cooldown was shorter than average. In the same amount of time, he could cast nearly twice as many skills as others. That sheer density of skill output drastically reduced the unpredictability caused by probability.

Working together with Zhou Yanjun, they turned Sabertooth’s entire squad into victims wading through thick mud—barely able to move an inch.

“You messed with me last round!!” Xia Tong cast without even pausing for breath, maintaining maximum range as he bombarded Goblin relentlessly. “Look down on control builds again, I dare you!!”

Goblin was beaten back step by step, unable to even touch him. Nearby, Molan and his panther were equally stuck, barely able to move. Molan couldn’t help but comment dryly, “Did you offend Blink or something?”

Goblin choked, “I—damn it…”

When both sides were evenly matched in skill, tactics decided everything.

2–2. They tied the series.

When Sabertooth exited, an eerie silence fell over their side.

After a long moment, Molan spoke first. “I don’t think we can underestimate Blink. He’s strong.”

Robin King nodded. “Agreed. As an omega… he has his own unique advantages. We have to acknowledge that.”

Yoyo sighed repeatedly. “He really just looks cute, that’s all.”

Dylan lowered his eyelids and didn’t respond immediately. Arms crossed, he seemed to be thinking, his expression dark and unreadable.

Goblin finally spoke. “I think… we still need to focus on targeting him. He may be individually strong, but his weakness is his lack of real match experience. As long as Zero doesn’t guide him in time, we can find a breakthrough—”

“You’re right,” Dylan said, surprisingly.

Goblin: “!”

Dylan’s tone was calm. “Sounds like you understand Blink pretty well. Go on.”

Suddenly being taken seriously, Goblin felt a little flattered. “Ah… it’s actually nothing. Blink’s been trying out a control-oriented playstyle lately. The enchantment on his weapon should be ‘Heart’s Blood of Bud’an,’ which is why his slowing effect is so strong.”

“So what do we do next round?” Dylan continued.

Goblin ventured cautiously, “We’ve been playing very aggressively, so in essence Blink is well-suited for counter-engaging. If we stop chasing him, his control style won’t have room to shine. He’ll have to turn around and chase us instead. Then we can look for a chance to counter-catch him—”

“That’s a good idea,” Mo Lan said. “If we can break his tempo away from Zero’s, it’ll be even easier to deal with.”

This time Dylan didn’t object. He nodded. “Alright. We’ll do as Goblin suggested.”

Goblin was faintly excited. “Thank you for the approval, Brother D!”

“Next round is our match point,” Robin King said solemnly. “If we lose, it won’t look good when we report back to Manager Zhao…”

That one sentence struck everyone’s sore spot.

Losing wasn’t just about failing to answer to Zhao Xin. More importantly, it was about failing to answer to the capitalists backing Sabertooth. Those people didn’t care about clichés like “victory and defeat are common in competition.” They only stared at stock prices. Sabertooth was at its peak right now—any tiny sign of decline could be seized upon to spin a negative narrative, all of it tied directly to the fluctuations of those red and green lines. The slightest tremor in the market would send the investors’ blood pressure soaring. They’d get angry—and they’d blame the players competing in the matches.

The atmosphere grew heavier.

In the end, Goblin broke the silence first, cheerfully encouraging his teammates. “We won’t lose! We’re Sabertooth—strong and experienced! How could we possibly lose to Polaris, who only just formed? And we’ve got the strongest Brother D in the universe! Right, Brother D?”

Dylan’s lips curled stiffly into a perfunctory smile. “Right. You’re correct.”

—

Compared to the tense and oppressive mood on Sabertooth’s side, Polaris’s atmosphere was relaxed and lively. Everyone was chatting away noisily.

“Two to two. For some reason, I actually feel super satisfied right now. I almost want to just lie down and stop playing,” Zhou Yanjun said with a contented look.

“Same here. I used to think Sabertooth was insanely strong. Now that I’ve seen them up close… they’re just normally strong,” Bo Yu said.

“I really didn’t expect Xia Tong’s control style to be this good. That was honestly surprising,” Shi Ya said with a smile. “You’re such a treasure of a little wizard—always full of surprises!”

“Hehe, mainly because their strategic thinking still falls a bit short compared to Zero’s,” Xia Tong scratched his head and grinned foolishly. Whenever Zero was mentioned, he perked up instantly. He turned to look at Lin Mingfei. “Huh? Zero? What are you thinking about? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I’m thinking about something,” Lin Mingfei said, holding his chin thoughtfully. “Out of four rounds, two were on these non–pure PvP maps. That doesn’t feel accidental…”

“Hm?” Shi Ya nodded in agreement. “I think the probability feels off too. Could the official random algorithm have bugged out?”

“Normally that wouldn’t happen…” Lin Mingfei said quietly. “These non–pure PvP maps were only introduced last season. Before that, the league had always been about team-versus-team, player-versus-player head-on clashes… and that’s been going on for years. I think the league might be getting tired of it.”

“What do you mean?” Shi Ya looked slightly surprised. “Are you saying the King’s Tomb officials deliberately adjusted the algorithm to apply these types of maps more broadly in the league?”

“It’s very possible. Both we and Sabertooth are current key focus teams. This scrimmage was arranged by the officials, too. Maybe they’re using us as lab rats,” Lin Mingfei snapped his fingers. “Bold prediction: the next round will probably be a similar map.”

“What? Then what do we do? There’s no way to prepare a contingency plan in advance!” Zhou Yanjun said in shock. “This sucks. I prefer straightforward head-on fights! Simple and brutal. These maps are frying my brain!”

“You think the league signed you up so you could enjoy yourself? Working man,” Lin Mingfei snorted lightly and shrugged. “Anyway, whatever. It’s just a scrim. Let’s treat it as gaining experience. Taking this chance to probe Sabertooth’s limits is good too. Win or lose, it doesn’t matter.”

“Who says it doesn’t matter?! It matters a lot! It matters a lot!” Xia Tong immediately grew upset, stomping his thin little legs beside them. “Those jerks from Sabertooth—I’m going to wipe them all out!”

His sudden burst of temper was rather unprovoked. Lin Mingfei blinked, then lazily lowered his gaze and patted Xia Tong’s little head like he was bouncing a ball. “So young—don’t be so bloodthirsty.”

Zhou Yanjun, never one to pass up a chance to stir the pot, chimed in, “Exactly. Anyone hearing you would think someone from Sabertooth did something unspeakable to you!”

The moment Xia Tong thought about how the glorious and saintly Captain Lin Mingfei in his heart had been slandered so brazenly by Goblin the other day, he ground his molars in anger. “Not to me! To Zero! To Zero!”

Lin Mingfei’s temple twitched. “Huh?”

Xia Tong, furious and speaking without thinking, blurted out, “They sullied Zero’s purity!!”

“…????”

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