Arriving at the hospital by car, when Chu Qianze found the person, he was sitting on a bench in the middle of the corridor, hands clasped, with a calm expression that gave no indication of what he might be thinking. The person’s face was covered with gauze, and his arms and knees were also bandaged, appearing somewhat disheveled.
Taking slow steps, Chu Qianze walked over and sat down beside them. “What happened?”
Zong Xinjue heard the voice, glanced sideways, and smiled gently. “This incident is particularly strange, with a very complicated process. You might find it hard to believe when I tell you.”
Chu Qianze nodded, making a sound of acknowledgement, and waited for the other to continue.
Zong Xinjue organized his thoughts in his mind and began recounting the events one by one. “After I returned home last night, I accidentally stepped on something and twisted my waist. It hurt for a moment, but it didn’t seem too serious. I didn’t pay much attention, thinking that resting for a while would make it better.”
Chu Qianze leaned back in the chair, giving Zong Xinjue a sidelong glance, his gaze sweeping over his waist.
“This morning when I woke up, things didn’t feel right. The discomfort was similar to yesterday, but considering the strains during training, encountering some issues seemed normal. I planned to finish today’s training and then go to the hospital to get it checked.”
After all, it was the last day of their agreement, and nothing unexpected could be allowed.
Zong Xinjue paused slightly after saying this, issuing a warning, “The story gets quite bizarre from here.”
“This morning, as I was leaving, a dog suddenly darted out from the nearby bushes and rushed towards the center of the road. At that moment, there were two vehicles ahead. The first one swerved to the side to avoid the dog, and the motorcycle behind, in an attempt to avoid the car in front, braked abruptly and lost control.”
Feeling that words alone might not convey the situation clearly, Zong Xinjue activated his light brain, using stick figures to illustrate the movement trajectories of the scene.
“After the motorcycle behind lost control, it slid towards my direction. Due to the pain in my waist, I couldn’t dodge, and we collided head-on.”
In the light-brain representation, the simplified drawings of the motorcycle and the stick figure representing Zong Xinjue collided head-on and bounced off in opposite directions.
“The rider was thrown forward and slid a distance, while I ended up falling into the flowerbed on the side.” Zong Xinjue manipulated the stick figure representing himself to fall into the circular representation of the flowerbed. After finishing the description, he sighed softly, “I didn’t complete the training today… our date went down the drain.”
“Why are you thinking about a date at a time like this?”
Chu Qianze was defeated by this person, his gaze sweeping over the other’s body. Apart from the bandaged areas, there were also bruises and swelling in some places.
“Can you stand up?”
“Not at the moment,” Zong Xinjue replied, closing the screen of his light brain.
He had only wanted to present a perfect and handsome image to others. Originally, he had planned to seize an opportunity to keep it a secret, contact the person again once he had recovered, but unexpectedly…
“The nurse is getting a wheelchair for me.”
“Here comes the wheelchair!” A nurse turned into the room, holding a floating wheelchair.
“Zong Xinjue, you’ve really outdone yourself. You used to just focus on wrists. After my wrists got better with much difficulty, now you’re inspecting the whole body directly?”
The nurse spoke casually, indicating some familiarity.
“Why is it you?” Zong Xinjue was a bit surprised upon seeing the person.
“I heard you’re back at the hospital. Did you come just to see me?” The nurse smirked, her gaze landing on Chu Qianze.
Oh, handsome guy!
Her nonchalant expression slightly transformed into a more refined demeanor. “And you are?”
“This is my boyfriend, taken,” Zong Xinjue spoke preemptively, understanding the thoughts in the nurse’s mind at a glance.
“You’ve actually found someone? With your straightforward nature, even more direct than a straight guy, you’ve managed to get a boyfriend?!” The nurse looked thoroughly shocked.
“I thought we had an unbreakable revolutionary friendship that would last forever, but here you are, joining the enemy camp. This is like a perfect plot from a crime thriller. How come you get to celebrate Valentine’s Day, and I’m still single!”
Zong Xinjue’s mouth twitched; he questioned his choice of friends.
“Hello, I’m Chu Qianze,” Chu Qianze smiled at the nurse.
“Hello, hello! I’m Hua Shi, his high school classmate.” Hua Shi flashed a bright smile, exuding a particularly sunny disposition.
Zong Xinjue cleared his throat. “Bring the wheelchair over.”
The nurse rolled her eyes and pushed the wheelchair over. “Can you manage on your own? Or do you want me to help you get in?”
Chu Qianze stepped forward to take the wheelchair. “I can handle this.”
Oh, asserting his identity as a boyfriend.
Hua Shi blinked. “Great, thanks for taking care of it.”
Then her gaze shifted to Zong Xinjue. “I’ve brought the wheelchair over for you. Remember to settle the bill later. Sometimes, it’s important not to gauge your physical limits. Don’t push yourself too hard; take it slowly. You’re not a child anymore, and twisting your waist like this is not a child’s play.”
Physical limits?
Chu Qianze mentally sketched out a scenario and noticed Zong Xinjue’s back straightening, a mix of awkwardness and embarrassment.
It seemed like this person had kept some things from him.
“I understand. Is there anything else?” Zong Xinjue’s facial muscles twitched slightly. Should he be grateful that the details weren’t elaborated upon?
“No, that’s it. Remember to follow the instructions; it’s beneficial for recovery. Since you have a friend here, I’ll take my leave now. I still have work to attend to.”
“Thank you,” Zong Xinjue expressed his gratitude.
“No problem. Take it easy, and try to avoid getting injured. That’s the biggest thanks you can give me.” The nurse waved her hand and headed upstairs on her own.
Chu Qianze adjusted the wheelchair’s angle. “I’ll carry you up.”
“No need, I can manage on my own.” Zong Xinjue connected his light brain to the wheelchair, bracing himself with one hand on the armrest, preparing to stand up.
Seeing him insisting, Chu Qianze still simply lifted both hands like picking up a child, lifting him effortlessly. After settling Zong Xinjue into the wheelchair and adjusting the safety features, he said, “All set. Now, let’s get you out of here.”
Watching the scenery gradually recede around them, Zong Xinjue apologized, “I’m sorry for missing our appointment today.”
“It’s just a minor thing; after all, an accident happened,” Chu Qianze replied.
Chu Qianze took a turn, guiding Zong Xinjue out of the hospital. “If you ever need anything in the future, make sure to contact me.”
Zong Xinjue didn’t want to bring up the missed date, so he opted for a more serious topic. “It’s a bit inconvenient in person right now. How about discussing things online in the future? What do you think?”
Chu Qianze was unsure of what to say. Was he really thinking about the competition now? “Your personality is quite something… Although I quite like it, can we prioritize healing first?”
Sensing the seriousness in Chu Qianze’s voice, Zong Xinjue quickly changed his tune. “Healing first.”
“I’m serious. If it continues like this, you’ll soon run out of flesh on your body.”
Zong Xinjue tensed up, lowering his gaze to look at himself. Did it look similar to before? He wasn’t sure.
“In fact, my injury isn’t that severe. A few days of rest should be enough,” Zong Xinjue said.
Chu Qianze replied, “Follow what the doctor said. We’ll resume training when he thinks you’re recovered.”
“Alright, but the online practice time shouldn’t be reduced.”
“Where is your home? Which building?” Stopped at the entrance of the residential area, Chu Qianze looked at the identical floors and momentarily struggled to recall.
“Go straight, then turn right after the next two intersections.”
As they headed upstairs, Zong Xinjue remembered that his own room hadn’t been tidied up, and he recalled the immaculate condition of Chu Qianze’s home. His expression changed.
Pretending to be calm, he opened his light brain, entered a code, and immediately initiated a cleaning task.
Watching the countdown to completion on the display, he felt an inexplicable nervousness.
Upon opening the door to his room, he found it exceptionally neat, indicating a recent cleaning. For someone living alone, it was quite an achievement.
“Not bad,” Chu Qianze appraised, looking around.
“Yeah, I just cleaned it recently.”
Zong Xinjue sat on the floating wheelchair, silently maneuvering it to reach the sofa. He contemplated moving himself onto it.
“Do you want to get down?” Chu Qianze noticed and walked over to inquire.
“Yeah, sitting on it is not very comfortable.”
Chu Qianze set Zong Xinjue down and went to pour a glass of water. “What are your plans for the next few days? Can you manage on your own?”
“It’s fine. The doctor said the medicine for my waist should start taking effect by tomorrow.”
“Alright, then I’ll wait until you’re feeling better before leaving.” Chu Qianze logged into his gaming account and opened a forum to prepare for some leisurely discussions.
“I have two spare gaming consoles here,” Zong Xinjue unexpectedly mentioned.
“How about logging in first?”
Since he couldn’t move for now, might as well enjoy some gaming.
[Welcome to Sheng Shi!]
The familiar voice echoed, and the two appeared in the game.
For the next period of time, their activities within the game included playing, training, discussing strategies, and the basics of eating, sleeping, and resting.
Finally, the time arrived for the competition.
Chu Qianze sat in the waiting area, anticipating the system’s notification for entry.
“How are you feeling? Nervous?” He glanced at Zong Xinjue beside him.
“Not nervous at all, quite relaxed actually,” Zong Xinjue replied.
Zong Xinjue was busy adjusting and inspecting his equipment, ensuring that the chances of any internal malfunctions were infinitesimally close to zero.
He didn’t know what unexpected events might occur this time. Natural disasters might be unavoidable, but at least he needed to pass his own checks first.
“Just have a good mindset.” Elbows on his knees, hands clasped, a metal plate suspended above, slowly rotating.
“Are you complimenting yourself?” Zong Xinjue glanced at Chu Qianze, unable to discern any nervousness in him.
“Haha, you caught that.” Chu Qianze tapped a point on the metal shard with his finger, causing it to further disassemble and dissipate into the air.
“I heard there’s an audience for this competition. I wonder if those lucky ones will get to witness our live performance.”
[Please welcome Team King to the arena.]
Chu Qianze stood up, stretched his limbs, and said, “Finally, it’s our turn. In a little while, the flowers will be in full bloom.”
He turned around, spreading his hands, “Let’s go.”
Looking at him, Zong Xinjue’s originally restless heart suddenly calmed.
Taking a deep breath, Zong Xinjue grasped his hand, and together, they walked through the corridor towards the outside.
The entrance passage was dark, with only arrows floating on the walls, guiding the participating contestants.
It was eerily quiet all around, with only the sounds of the two’s footsteps and their shallow breaths audible.
It felt like a baptism, a self-examination, the eve of a storm, the quiet before the impending explosion at the venue.
A bright light appeared ahead, and as white light enveloped them again, the surroundings expanded, and they found themselves on a massive platform.
It was eerily quiet, very quiet indeed. In such a vast arena, there were only three people: Chu Qianze, Zong Xinjue, and a host.
Their opponents had yet to come out, indicating some unexpected developments.
And in the spectator seats, not a single person was present.
“This is a bit different from what I imagined.”
Chu Qianze scratched his neck, turning to the person beside him. “I thought it would be like being the center of attention, with the audience cheering in the stands.”
“At this time, many players are in matches, including three professional teams. They’re probably watching those games,” Zong Xinjue said, not finding the situation surprising.
At this time, the audience had to make choices. So, compared to unknown and unfamiliar teams, people would naturally prefer watching matches featuring professional players.
“That makes sense. I guess I was dreaming,” Chu Qianze shrugged.
“When we reach the finals, there will be more viewers,” Zong Xinjue added. “During the championship match, everyone in the game area will be paying attention to us.”
“It sounds impressive. Let’s go with that. It’s quite fulfilling to see the spectator seats gradually fill up,” Chu Qianze displayed excellent self-coordination.
At this moment, the opposing team appeared.
With everyone assembled, the host began to speak.
“Hello, everyone! Welcome to this match—!”
Standing on the platform, the host held a microphone in one hand and cards in the other, their voice echoing through the venue via the speakers.
“Alright, no more words. Let’s now move on to the competition segment. First, let the teams greet the audience.”
Even though there was no one to see, the procedure still needed to be followed.
The two people from the opposing team gave a perfunctory wave.
Chu Qianze, on the other hand, smiled and waved at the camera.
“Please get ready, both teams.”
As soon as the host finished speaking, a mechanical voice sounded.
[The match begins!]
After finishing the announcement, the host closed the microphone and sighed softly, looking a bit dispirited.
After hosting this round, he still had two more matches to go, and he needed to seize the time now.
Several colleagues were taking turns to host matches for professional teams, engaged in various strategic battles. As a low-level employee with neither money nor influence, he could only host the remaining matches.
The skill levels of ordinary amateur teams were generally not impressive, lacking any highlights. In the later compilation, there probably wouldn’t even be any camera shots of these matches.
If someone were diligent, they could indeed find these matches on the official website, but since the audience wouldn’t watch, not even basic post-production was done.
For the host, hosting these matches meant no exposure, no technical skill involved, and no extra pay. It was entirely a thankless task. To put it bluntly, it was what the higher-ups didn’t want to bother with.
In the previous match, he watched two teams exchanging blows, and later they even started chatting, to the point where he couldn’t be bothered to comment.
“Let’s take a break while the match is still ongoing.”
With these thoughts in mind, the host shifted to the side, intending to move into the blind spot of the camera.
Boom—!!
A loud noise, a strong wind struck from behind, lifting the host’s clothes and tousling the carefully arranged hair into disarray.
Huh?
While he was in a daze, there were sounds resembling machine gun fire, followed by one skill output after another. The speed and rhythm were so fast that it made people shudder involuntarily.
Turning his head to look back, the arena was now filled with smoke, making it impossible to see clearly. It wasn’t until the facilities absorbed the dust that the situation became apparent.
Chu Qianze’s hands hung down, the heavy sniper rifle dissolving.
Beside Zong Xinjue, a player lay collapsed on the ground.
A heavy sniper rifle and a giant shield set the tone for the victory in the match.
So fast? How much time has passed?
The host was astonished.
While his gaming skills might not be great, he had been in the industry for a long time and had a certain level of observational skills.
The professions of these two players— one was likely a shield warrior, and the giant shield was very recognizable. The other one was… a gunner?
Because of the game’s flexibility, many professions were only the same at the beginning. As players progressed, they underwent various changes, so it was challenging to be certain.
Because of his recent distraction, he didn’t observe the entire process clearly.
Whether these two were too strong or their opponents were too weak, the host couldn’t be certain about that.
Seeing the duel end and no result announced yet, Chu Qianze looked up towards the hosting platform, “Host, can you announce the result now?”
The host then realized. He had been busy analyzing the progress and had forgotten his primary job. If this were noticed, his prize money might get deducted entirely.
Adjusting his askew glasses, he picked up the microphone, “The match is over, and the winner is—”
Glancing at the cue card, he exclaimed, “Team King! Congratulations!!”
As the host finished speaking, the exit opened.
“Please proceed to the next venue, collect your competition number, and I hope you achieve even better results in the upcoming matches,” the host said with a smile.
“Of course,” said Chu Qianze casually, leaning directly on Zong Xinjue’s back.
“Our goal is the championship, after all.”
Watching the two of them leave, the host adjusted his glasses.
Is the team named “King” because their goal is the championship?
Whether it’s arrogance or genuine skill, it’s still uncertain. That will depend on their future performance. Perhaps these two individuals can bring some unique surprises to the competition.
He silently kept the name in his mind.
The league proceeded with great enthusiasm, and all the explosive content was related to this competition. Various posts analyzing the abilities of professional teams, predictions about the matches, live reports of the game process, records, fan posts, couple posts—everything imaginable.
Within these posts revolving around professional teams, the only type related to amateur teams was one: mockery.
[Have you seen those bizarre matches?]
[As the title suggests, during this period, besides watching matches of professional gods, I also watched some matches of ordinary teams. Honestly, watching the gods play now isn’t that interesting because their opponents are too weak; they can’t even showcase one percent of their true abilities. Oops, got off topic, hahaha. Let’s get back to the main point.
There are only a few professional teams, and once the matches are over, there’s nothing left. So, when the poster is bored during other times, they go and check out the situations of other amateur teams. Oh my goodness, after watching a few matches, I felt like I’ve been playing a fake game. What kind of situations are those?
There was one match like this, both sides ran out of stamina, and they were stuck in place unable to move. Maybe during the match, they opened up the Governing Vessel and Conception Vessel meridians, activating the Zaun bloodline, and they just stood there mutually spraying each other. After watching the entire match, the poster felt like they had undergone a spiritual awakening, some kind of enlightenment.
There was another one where both players ran out of skills and resorted to hand-to-hand combat! Sounds decent, right? But their hand-to-hand combat techniques involved grabbing each other’s hair, slapping each other’s ears, and attacking the chest?! And mind you, these were male players! The poster is utterly flabbergasted.
There are many more examples, but I won’t go into detail here. After a few rounds of screening, it has become more interesting. I believe the players’ skills will improve in the future, looking forward to the upcoming matches. (Facepalm)]
[Why do I feel like I want to see that? It sounds so interesting!]
[I guess it’s because the poster’s language is lively and amusing. If you really see it live, you won’t feel that way.]
[Where can I watch the replay? I want to review it qwq]
[Open the official website; there’s a dedicated section with videos of the match, but it’s not well organized, so finding specific moments can be a bit tricky. Try searching with keywords.]
In the beginning, this was just a post for venting and complaining. Some people found it amusing, so they went to watch those recorded gameplay videos.
Sharing joy is better than enjoying it alone. Following the psychological principle of collectively analyzing good things, whenever someone came across an interesting video, everyone shared it in this post.
[I found a super funny one, “Guidance” (link)]
[Just saw one where the Berserker enters quickly. It’s the first time I realized skills could be operated like this. Too talented, haha! (link)]
[Mistakenly clicked on a video, discussing the importance of eloquence. Don’t drink water while watching this. I even suspect they want to laugh me to death to inherit my player account! (link)]
So, this post, originally intended for venting, transformed into a collection of humorous materials from ordinary teams, achieving the achievement of a “tilted building” (a thread going off-topic). Moreover, this post even sparked a trend of watching videos from ordinary team competitions.
In the midst of discussions focused on numerous professional players, this post stands out as a unique and remarkable phenomenon, akin to a landslide.
Ma Chun finished a day’s work and, following the usual routine, opened this recommendation post. Scrolling through, checking out what amusing videos enthusiastic netizens had discovered recently.
During this period, it served as Ma Chun’s source of happiness.
Opening the post, Ma Chun directly set the sorting order to reverse chronological, and after loading, the first thing that caught the eye was the top post.
[Ah, ah, ah, Fuck, I’m dead. Is this really an amateur team? Isn’t it just a professional team in disguise?! (Link)]
Heh, clickbait, a classic clickbait! Just trying to trick me into clicking, I’ve seen this tactic too many times.
Ma Chun chuckled, clicked on the screen, the video popped up, directly entering that recording.
Team King, huh? Well, I really need to see how bad this team can be.
“Half a minute? They actually lost in 30 seconds. How weak can they be?” Muttering to himself, he picked up the chicken that had just arrived, preparing to challenge himself to eat three pieces within a minute.
The screen is now fully loaded, and he took a bite of the fried chicken.
Bang—!!
The opening scene was a loud noise, startling Ma Chun.
The shield warrior rushed forward, and the one with the firearm followed closely behind. The two coordinated seamlessly, and in the blink of an eye, the opposing team was defeated.
The video ended, and the display returned to its initial black state. Ma Chun, looking surprised, could be seen through it.
??!!
Black screen critical hit.
What was that just now?
Ma Chun put down the chicken in his hand, took out a tissue to wipe his hands, sat up straight, and pressed the replay button.
30 seconds later, he pressed it again.
After replaying it several times, he finally shifted his attention away. The video ended, but his emotions intensified.
Fuck! What is this? This is an amateur team?! Are you kidding me?!
Quickly saving that video separately, Ma Chun went to the official website to search for detailed information and watched that match thoroughly. After that, he also watched a few more matches between the two.
So far, an undefeated record with no losses, both players showed strong operational awareness, and their proficiency with skills was evident. Most importantly, their coordination was highly synchronized, indicating that they had likely strategized before the matches. They could quickly coordinate with just a glance, showcasing their high level of teamwork.
Ma Chun the Great, using his chicken as a guarantee, has discovered a hidden gem of a team. He decided to capture those videos, originally planning to edit some exciting clips, but after watching them repeatedly, he felt that every frame was full of energy.
Without hesitation, he opened a new thread and posted all the videos.
[Dark Horse Strikes! I’m Betting on This One!!]
The “new” indicator appeared, placing the post at the top of the regular section, catching the attention of several players who happened to refresh the page. They clicked on the post and watched the videos.
After a few seconds, the “new” indicator disappeared, and the post’s status changed to “hot.” Eventually, it upgraded to “explosive.” The post’s popularity skyrocketed, making it one of the hot threads and one of the only two topics not related to professional teams.
Its position kept rising and rising until it surpassed the original satire and recommendation post, successfully entering the front page of the trending list.
Team King, for the first time, entered the public eye.
On the other side, the Team King just received a notification that they could now go on stage.
Chu Qianze stood up, stretched lazily, and moved his shoulders and neck. Last night, he spent a long time sitting there, listening to data analysis, even though he was supposed to be in charge.
Looking at someone who was busy recording, Chu Qianze said, “It’s our turn to go on stage.”
Zong Xinjue nodded and closed the recording page. “Here we go.”
“Do you think there will be an audience this time?” Chu Qianze asked casually, picking up a Mango Sago Pomelo from the side.
“Who knows.”
Zong Xinjue remained reserved about this question.
Because at the same time, other teams were also in the middle of their matches, and two professional teams were facing off. They had already gained a lot of fans.
“Regardless, let’s play the match well.”
Biting on the straw, Chu Qianze finished the last sip, “Got it, I was just asking casually. No matter how it is now, in the end, all these people will be watching us.”
Following the instructions, the two entered the arena. It was the same tunnel as before, with the same signs, the same darkness, and silence.
After the darkness, the familiar white light enveloped them.
As they walked out of the tunnel, the lively sounds of discussion reached their ears.
“Is this it? The match for Team King.”
“Here they are! It’s them!”
“Go for it! Team King!”
“You must win!”
In front of them was the vast and wide competition arena, and the sparsely populated spectator seats were now filled with people.
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