Chapter 77

Hydralisk began his special training.

He is someone who always follows through on his words.

The reason VIT still hasn’t implemented internal militarized training is that everyone understands the balance between being sensible and doing the right thing, and no one is complacent.

If they make a mistake, they own up to it; if they mess up, they rectify it. With Rong Yi and Xiao Yin holding themselves to high standards, no one else can slack off either.

This is actually quite a rare talent.

Before 7 a.m., when everyone came down for their usual breakfast, Hydralisk had already spent an entire hour in the Silent Room next to the Training Room.

The Silent Room is completely soundproof and runs data software. The coordinates of the five simulated opponents on the screen change rapidly. Hydralisk, with full blind vision, is simulating the data of both enemy and allied forces, judging the attack power of each based on the changes in the data panels.

It’s very difficult. Practicing it ten thousand times might make it a reflex, but before reaching those ten thousand times, it’s all about pushing the brain to its limits.

The Silent Room had just been fitted with soundproof walls a few days ago, and the air conditioning wasn’t on yet, making the room unbearably hot. From the glass door of the Training Room, they could see that Hydralisk’s back was drenched with sweat.

Even the auntie felt a bit sorry for him: “He went in after eating fifteen steamed buns this morning. I told him it was too hot in there and to train elsewhere, but he wouldn’t.”

Grey Cat muttered, “He sure can eat… No wonder half the steamed buns were gone at the start…”

Rong Yi and Xiao Yin exchanged glances.

Rong Yi said, “Yesterday, little snake mentioned that this training mode somewhat limits his talent.”

Xiao Yin understood and smiled.

“His real talent lies here.”

To push himself to the limit, either mastering it completely or failing utterly, this is Hydralisk’s innate nature.

They hadn’t started training yet today, so Rong Yi took the opportunity to gossip a bit.

“How did you pick them back then? Did you look for this trait in all of them?”

“Yes, all of them,” Xiao Yin replied calmly. “I really dislike the attitude of some esports players. They play it safe, afraid to take risks, and don’t push themselves. They seem to think that by not making mistakes and being cautious, the championship will just fall into their laps. ‘Not making mistakes’ and ‘being steady’ are the most meaningless evaluations.”

Rong Yi found himself surrounded by countless players he knew, and he couldn’t help but nod.

“Some people do it for a living or to extend their careers,” Xiao Yin said casually. “But if they choose that path, losing is only natural.”

“So,” Grey Cat interjected, with a hint of sadness, “you didn’t pick us because we have talent. We get it now.”

Wu Daogu also looked sad: “We get it now.”

Xiao Yin: “…”

“So, in the boss’s heart, we are nothing,” Grey Cat said dramatically, holding his hand to his chest. “Spread the word, Yin said the other four members of the team have no talent.”

Rong Yi burst out laughing and joined in, squinting his eyes in mock sadness: “I get it now.”

The morning light streamed through the glass windows, casting a beautiful, golden line on the floor, marking the boundary between warmth and cold.

Rong Yi’s face was half-lit, half-shadowed, his eyes gleaming with a playful and lively spirit, and a bit of tenderness and sparkle he couldn’t help but show when he looked at Xiao Yin.

Xiao Yin didn’t say anything; he just looked into Rong Yi’s eyes, his body unconsciously leaning forward.

Before Rong Yi could react, Xiao Yin kissed him on the lips.

Everyone around them saw it, including the Auntie. Rong Yi pushed Xiao Yin away, feeling a bit flustered and shy: “What are you doing?”

What was with this guy? They were just joking around, and then he suddenly kissed him.

Grey Cat and Wu Daogu consciously looked away, whistling.

“It wasn’t me who chose you,” Xiao Yin whispered, gently holding Rong Yi’s shoulder. “You chose me.”

In the national championship finals, VIT lost to CH in the first round, entering the loser’s bracket, making them the first of the top three teams to do so.

CH continued to perform steadily, achieving a 2:1 record against RS.

After rotating their lineup, RS’s error tolerance improved significantly, putting them on par with CH in terms of strength post-season. They were equally formidable in the finals.

RS added four new players to their team, all fitting perfectly into their rotations.

Their new strategies were highly effective, and when CH first encountered this coordination, they couldn’t come up with a counter-strategy immediately. In the end, CH won by relying on their strong defensive operations.

The most interesting part was that in the final game, RS also brought out their operations style that had dominated countless seasons. The match duration reached an astonishing seventy minutes, nearly breaking the record for the longest game in league history.

However, RS ultimately lost. In such matches, the outcome is often determined by a series of minor mistakes that accumulate over time.

The audience is pragmatic; the victory before their eyes is what excites them the most. With CH’s two consecutive wins, media and commentators have already begun to declare them the champions.

No one expected CH to hold back until the top three matches to fully unleash their potential.

Meanwhile, after the lineup rotation, the originally faded voice of RS began to rise again.

Main shotcaller changed, team members changed, competition training team changed, the system changed!

No one wants to lose.

Perhaps their purposes weren’t pure, but no one wants to lose.

The original RS four-member team had already given up everything they could.

RS’s loss in one match meant entering the loser’s bracket, which signified that the next match would be the final showdown between RS and VIT.

Meanwhile, CH stood in the winner’s bracket, waiting for the victorious team to crawl up from the abyss to challenge them.

The schedule was tight, leaving VIT only one week to prepare.

Countless people were waiting for a show. Fans were heartbroken, blaming, and cursing. Casual players were stirring up drama, mocking mercilessly. Most of the attacks were personal, targeting Hydralisk, with the online frenzy even resurrecting old topics about Rong Yi.

“Easy can’t carry the team. They hyped him up so much before, but didn’t Hydralisk still end up as a target?”

“If he could really lead the team well, VIT wouldn’t have lost that game. Saying he’s taking more risks for the rookies, but he’s mid lane; can’t even cover the ADC?”

VIT’s members saw all these comments and ignored them completely.

Hydralisk used to argue with netizens on a smurf account, but this time he chose silence. Silence wasn’t about retreating or avoiding; it was a new kind of contest and a form of clear-headed self-reflection.

This is competition; speaking with results is the most powerful.

In five days, Hydralisk trained tirelessly day and night, with Rong Yi accompanying him in practice sessions without rest.

The silent room had the air conditioning hastily installed, and the voices of Rong Yi and Hydralisk continuously overlapped, filling the quiet space.

“Red buff 1 just finished at small camp location 270.260, red buff 2 is likely rotating down or clearing jungle,” Hydralisk’s voice was steady. “Red buff 3 has been idle for a while, possibly lurking in one of the three bushes. Support, go check vision.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Rong Yi’s voice echoed.

“Red buff 1 position confirmed, I’ll scout red buff 2’s path, not heading down, it’s at blue buff. Yin and I will sweep and clear.” Rong Yi said, “No need to check red buff 3 vision, red buff 3 is in the dragon pit bush waiting to meet the jungler. Dragon spawns in 3 seconds.”

“Got it.”

Hydralisk continued to relay information, almost every second, pausing the entire game to report and predict repeatedly, with Rong Yi correcting and guiding.

Their voices grew hoarse over three days of continuous practice, barely seeing the outside world’s day and night.

But as Rong Yi watched Hydralisk’s increasingly fluent reports and predictions, their synchronized analysis, his confidence solidified.

They were on the right path.

Hydralisk had gained a third pair of eyes, ones that couldn’t be deceived by false visions, shaken by feints, or wavered by unknown dangers and baseless doubts.

This was true full-map vision.

On the third day, Rong Yi took off his headset and stood up.

“Your special training is over. Now, return to the team.”

Hydralisk stood up, having undergone an intense, immersive training session in such a short time. He responded loudly, “Yes, Captain!”

“You can handle Yin now,” Rong Yi patted his shoulder. “I await the day you knock Yin-Ge off his spot as the world’s top-ranked player.”

“Definitely!” Hydralisk clenched his fist, his eyes shining.

On the day of the match between VIT and RS, the weather was clear and crisp, with a bright blue sky.

This match was to determine who would take third place this season, but the media refused to call it the “Third Place Match” because securing third place also meant that the team would stop at third place.

The media dubbed this match the “One Step Away from the Championship Battle,” as it was the final deciding match of the year in the loser’s bracket.

Even before the doors opened, the media and spectators had already packed the area around the League Building. The two-tiered circular platform was filled to capacity, swarming with people, and countless media cameras were focused on the stage.

The online livestream’s viewership skyrocketed to two billion, with global and national audiences eagerly following the tournament.

Off-camera, as VIT and RS entered the venue, both teams’ members crossed paths backstage.

VIT members were backstage purely because the schedule had changed slightly; the training room was not open before the match, so they had to wait backstage while RS members got their makeup done.

As usual, neither team acknowledged the other.

After several defeats, the RS members could no longer maintain a superior attitude in front of Rong Yi, yet it was hard for them to ignore him.

Today, RS started with a rotated lineup.

Rong Yi sipped his tea, his gaze sweeping over the four new faces in the RS lineup, lingering not a moment longer on the former team members before moving on.

But those he glanced at bowed their heads deeply.

Neng Li lowered his head, his fingers digging into his palms.

He had been rotated out for three consecutive matches.

This was no different from being a substitute.

Previously, his stability had been his advantage. As long as he followed Rong Yi’s instructions, he could adapt to any situation. However, this trait had become a disadvantage.

Because of his steadiness, his lack of independent thought, and the absence of Rong Yi’s hands-on, targeted training, his style had become lackluster. He had become a replaceable player.

On the other side, Qing Yan’s expression was equally grim.

He had been rotated out twice, only slightly better off than Neng Li, but this did not prevent daily self-doubt and the anxiety of essentially being a substitute, even if it wasn’t explicitly stated.

The longer this went on, the more they felt the harshness of this profession.

Ironically, when Rong Yi was with them, they never felt this. He had paved the way for their future, planned everything for them. They just had to follow his lead.

Now, Rong Yi was no longer with them.

It was their own choice to let him go.

Yao Cao glared at Hydralisk with a sullen expression.

The match hadn’t started yet, but their basic tactics were already set. To counter Hydralisk, they would use a new combination and rotation, which meant the ADC laning against Hydralisk would be under immense pressure.

Facing Hydralisk in the lane before had been grueling for him.

Both were naturally gifted ADCs with high burst damage, but the memory of being crushed by Hydralisk still lingered in his mind.

“What’s with the faces?”

Jungler Lang Bai spoke in an even tone, his voice soft. “Lift your heads up. Are you already thinking about how you’re going to go home?”

The others silently lifted their heads, trying to put on a facade of good morale.

The new team members chattered, cracking jokes, and even went to greet VIT. They didn’t know much about the past conflicts.

Only Lang Bai remained still, staring intently at Rong Yi.

When Rong Yi stood up to get some water, Lang Bai suddenly rose and walked over.

Seeing the sudden movement, both teams grew tense. The entire VIT team was on alert, with Wu Daogu quickly moving to block the path, glaring at him.

“What are you doing?”

Lang Bai’s face was expressionless. “Getting water.”

Wu Daogu let him pass.

“I have something to say to the Captain.” Lang Bai took a few steps closer as Rong Yi picked up his cup and turned to him.

“We will win, Captain.” Lang Bai said. “We can reach the championship without you. You’ve seen our team’s rotation.”

Rong Yi tilted his head slightly, listening intently but saying nothing. His demeanor was unexpectedly calm.

There was no change in his emotions, as if he were being approached by a stranger on the street asking for directions.

“There’s no way the Captain isn’t aware of the problems in your team,” Lang Bai continued. “You know better than anyone that talent isn’t everything. It’s unlikely you’ll find another team like ours. We’ve played together for five years. We’ll prove that we can grow without you.”

“I’m done.” Lang Bai finished.

It was evident that he had wanted to say these words for a long time.

Lang Bai was the quietest member of the team, yet the most aggressive. He was the Jungler.

In RS’s previous tactics, the synergy between Jungler and Support was the strongest. With Rong Yi as the shotcaller and Lang Bai executing, they were unstoppable.

“Prove it, and then what?”

Rong Yi asked, his clear voice falling gently like jade.

Lang Bai was stunned.

“Prove you’re better than me? Prove you don’t need me?”

Rong Yi shrugged. “It’s meaningless.”

This was also the first time he publicly responded to an RS team member.

Lang Bai suddenly felt a wave of confusion.

Yes.

Prove it… and then what?

During past matches, seeing their captain shield them under his wings, that persistent sense of inferiority and insecurity lingered deeply within.

They could grow without him; they could be champions without him. He could become his own shotcaller; they could all be stronger than him. They could take his contributions for granted, even disregard them, driven by a burning resentment that transformed from dependence to jealousy.

But what was the point?

“At least that way you would acknowledge us,” Lang Bai said. “Sorry, Captain, none of us really wanted you to leave.”

Saying this now seemed a bit too disingenuous.

Rong Yi found it hard to follow such convoluted logic.

He had been out of the team for half a year. When his contract was terminated, not a single person spoke up or tried to keep him.

And now they were telling him, “none of us wanted you to leave?”

Really?

Rong Yi gave him a curious look.

“I used to acknowledge you all.” Rong Yi turned his head, looking at him calmly.

Lang Bai’s fingers twitched.

“The team members I selected, I always acknowledged them.”

“There’s no distinction of better or worse, no so-called ‘just okay.’ The team members I chose are always the best.”

“When I chose Yin-Ge, and when I chose each one of you, it was always with the same feeling.”

Rong Yi glanced at the time and quickened his pace. He didn’t have to say this, but his confusion was quite genuine.

“Can’t you feel it?”

“To me, all of you had the potential to become top-tier players. That’s how it was supposed to be.”

“A stable mid laner, strong learning ability, experienced. Isn’t QILIN’s mid laner the same type?”

No one had expected Neng Li to become complacent and self-satisfied.

“A gifted ADC, quick reflexes, full of drive—a breakout star.”

Who could have predicted he would get lost in superficial glory and neglect his progress?

Xiao Yun was the same, and so was Qing Yan.

Only Lang Bai had grown after Rong Yi left, but it was already too late.

“There’s just one thing I need to correct.” Rong Yi couldn’t be bothered to go through each point one by one. He set down his cup, his tone calm. “Don’t get the titles wrong. Personally, I don’t like being called ‘Captain’ by anyone other than my team members.”

He pointed to the other side, where VIT stood.

“Now, I’m their captain.”

Lang Bai, along with the team members behind him, looked as if they had been struck by lightning.