Douyu, 6657.
In Wanjiqi’s livestream room.
“‘Stewie2K Can’t Get a Kill!’ ‘Is Brehze Even Playing?’ ‘autimatic Selling Teammates Again!’ ‘Sigh, RUSH Should’ve Gotten One Too.’”
“Ooh~ a defeat like a landslide! The whole squad’s gone! Now you’re the only human left! Dark!!! The genius youngster from CN, the prodigy who spent two and a half years as a substitute and is stepping onto a tier-one event for the first time!”
“Can you snipe four?!!”
At this moment, playing in Wanjiqi’s livestream room was a Bilibili match clip from BLAST this January: map two, Mirage, between EG and Liquid.
Map one had been taken by Liquid with a huge score difference. Now, on map two, the score was 17:18. The next round was unquestionably crucial.
If they won, EG could drag the match into a second overtime!
If they lost, Liquid would kick them to the curb 2–0.
And one had to know that EG had already been steamrolled by FAZE in the first round. If they lost to Liquid today too, they would be completely finished.
All of a sudden, in the recording, Wanjiqi’s incomparably seductive, bubble-like voice suddenly rose!
“Whoa~! oSee holding mid connector with the big sniper! The AWP whiffs! oSee gets picked from the front! Dark swings out with a Peek and takes down the AWP first! While inspecting the AWP, he peeks out again!”
“Another shot! Dark with this turnaround Repeek! Instantly kills one and comes back! Did you see anyone in that scope-in? You didn’t! But the rifler at jungle has already been executed! Handsome, Dark! You can’t possibly carry any harder!”
“What?! This turn-around flick to underpass! Dark is still killing! The guy from underpass wide-swung trying to backstab him and got executed too!”
“Fast! Too fast! Dark’s flick was so fast you couldn’t even see the kill happen! He’s spun into a top at Mirage connector!”
“Come on! Show yourself! That’s right!”
“This is Dark! The genius youngster from China! A youth trainee who spent two and a half years as a substitute in North American CS! Those more accurate than him aren’t as fast as him! Those faster than him—ooh~! In this server, there is no one faster than him!!!”
“Now Liquid only has one left! Dark planted for palace on A site, climbed up into palace, checked CT first, then held connector directly. He’s smelled the opponent’s scent! EliGE is already here! Dark only needs one more kill to take this clutch ace! At the same time, he’ll drag the team into overtime! EG will have hope of advancing!”
“There isn’t much time left for the CT! EliGE has to speed up! Can Dark hold it—!!!”
The bomb timer’s urgent beeping sounded. Even knowing it was only a recording, many people in the livestream subconsciously tensed up. In the VOD, Wanjiqi’s supreme bubble voice was practically moaning!
Bang!
All of a sudden, a figure from mid connector dry-swung straight out!
Dark fired almost without thinking!
However, the instant the gunshot rang out, there was no expected kill feedback.
The high-speed spinning bullet pierced through the air, brushing past the hem of the enemy’s pant leg and splashing up a shocking burst of blood—but the man did not fall.
He whiffed?!!
No!
It hit the leg!
In the next instant, just as the AWP in A palace whiffed and tried to pull back, EliGE, who had “jump-swung” out of connector, landed without even counter-strafing!
His crosshair hadn’t even tightened!
Almost by reflex, he tapped one shot toward A palace with the AK in his hands!
A pure nerve shot!
Pfft—!
Blood instantly burst out!
The figure pulling back in A palace abruptly leaned backward and fell!
OneTap!
Instant kill!
At that moment, in the recording, Wanjiqi’s voice instantly broke.
“Holy shit! Are you serious?!”
“No anti-clear flash! No pre-aim! No counter-strafe! There’s no CS left! Only this damn random bullet spread—!”
“Ooh~! EliGE, one nerve shot! Instantly kills Dark as he’s about to retreat! Kills EG’s last hope! This match, fuck! I really fucking surrender to this match... I’m looking at your~ aim~!”
Bang—!
Suddenly, in the recording, a dull yet loud thud smashed through the brief silence!
In the player cam given by the observer, a black-haired Eastern-faced youth at the EG player bench seemed as though some psychological defense had been pierced through. His tense arm, filled with frustration and unwillingness, slammed a fist viciously into the metal tabletop beside him!
Amid the muffled sound, under that enormous impact, the metal tabletop actually caved in deeply—the price being that a ghastly red mark instantly appeared on the back of the young man’s hand!
That was bone colliding violently with metal!
But at this moment, the youth seemed unable to feel any pain at all. His eyes were wide open, staring fixedly at the screen. His muscle-ridged chest heaved violently as he gasped for breath, as if trying to use that heavy breathing to soothe the remorse in his heart.
At the EG player bench, his teammates were all stunned by this sudden action!
In their impression, the black-haired youth beside them was always smiling, had an excellent personality, and could chat with practically anyone on the team. But at this moment, he looked somewhat unfamiliar—that was the psychological freefall of an extreme desire for victory buried deep in his heart suddenly losing balance!
For a time, on the silent player bench, only the youth’s heavy breathing echoed in the air.
Wanjiqi’s livestream room.
The pighead who would not dream of bunny girls raised his hand and X’d out the Bilibili match recording.
Even though several months had already passed, he still shook his head and sighed at this moment.
“Seriously! Dark even lost this round. It was originally a world-class individual show, I really—this match! Fuck! I really fucking surrender to this match. I don’t understand why you guys keep making me play this clip every day. I’m speechless!”
After Wanjiqi finished speaking, however, his tone changed.
“Dark was a bit unlucky in this one, that’s true. But then again, someone jump-swings out of mid connector, and you’re holding with the AWP. If you just pluck him out with one shot, isn’t everything solved?”
“If you can hit him in the leg and give EliGE a chance to react, then all I can say is, it ends in regret.”
“Someone’s asking where the regret is? Uh... actually, there’s nothing much to regret. CS has never been a game of luck. There’s only strong-player luck and unlucky noobs...”
“If you’re bad, practice more.”
Hearing Wanjiqi start trolling again without warning, the viewers immediately went into a frenzy of spam.
“Hahaha, ‘if you’re bad, practice more’ is the truth.”
“Can only say he’s not a genius youngster.”
“Machine, you’re trolling your good bro Dark like this? Last time he queued with you, you weren’t saying that.”
“‘You are the most outstanding sniper in CNCS I have ever seen,’ ‘Your great optimistic personality gives you everything needed to become a legend,’ ‘I can’t wait to cast your first major debut’... ‘Some snipers who are bad should practice more!’”
“Hahaha, I’m dying. Wanjiqi is trolling way too damn hard.”
“To be fair, Dark is purely a muscle AWP abuser. His awareness and technique are basically nonexistent. If he learned some more academic CS, maybe there’d still be hope.”
“Anyone saying there’s hope is also trolling like crazy! With EG’s four dishes and one soup this year, they still want to win?”
“True. The C9 championship trio that Banana Man (2K) brought into EG this year, autimatic and RUSH, are all rotten to the core. Revive the glory of North American CS? Revive his grandma’s leg.”
“Hehe, Dark’s about to get kicked by Banana Man before this Major, right? He didn’t even play in ESL in February. That bastard posted on INS and Weibo with the water dispenser right beside him in the background, I’m dying.”
“No choice. Dark’s punch this year felt good for him, but the bandage on his hand stayed on for almost half a year. If he doesn’t recover well, his career’s basically over.”
“If you ask me, why is he still playing abroad? Just go back to China and find your big bro Wan in Shijiazhuang. Didn’t Pighead say last time he wanted to set up a second stream? Why not give his good bro Dark a hand?”
“...”
Seeing the bullet comments in the livestream, Wanjiqi immediately laughed and said,
“Don’t say that! You really shouldn’t say that! Maybe by the end of the year, we really might set up that second stream. EG’s results have been trash from last year to now. They haven’t made the playoffs of a single big event. The club management is definitely going to start kicking people. Dark’s situation isn’t looking too optimistic.”
The bullet comments immediately burst into laughter!
Cursing your good bro to get kicked, huh?
Everyone expressed that when it came to being disgusting to his good bro, he had always been capable.
Wanjiqi immediately said in an aggrieved tone,
“No! Seriously, it’s not that I’m trying to disgust my good bro, okay? The main thing is Dark’s situation is kind of special, all right? He got into CS at six, went pro at thirteen, went to North American youth training at fifteen—a seventeen-year-old veteran! Dark is absolutely among the most talented young players in CNCS.”
“Some comments say he’s fallen off. Actually, I wouldn’t say he’s fallen off that badly. To put it bluntly, Dark’s situation is that he lacks systematic training. How far can you go purely on talent?”
“On top of that, he was young and impulsive. After that hand injury this year, his form started declining. I’ve watched his recent FPL—Faceit’s overseas pro-only server—ranked games on stream, and he’s already starting to whiff AWP shots. All that’s left is speed without accuracy...”
“You guys know this. When a sniper starts whiffing, it’s actually very scary. It means he’ll gradually begin to lose confidence...”
“As for that, all I can say is... it ends in regret...”
Wanjiqi was being “sentimental” when the viewers suddenly started spamming that he was cursing his good bro into retirement, ironclad proof he was a troll!
Wanjiqi hurriedly waved his hands.
“No, brothers! Dark is definitely my good bro. Of course I want him to keep playing! Sigh, if I say too much, you guys don’t believe me. Brothers, stop trolling. Back then, I was definitely the first commentator in China to pay attention to Dark, okay?”
That thirteen-year-old kid back then had no need for any “Heaven rewards diligence.”
In those small and medium-sized domestic tournaments, pure talent and an AWP that was so fast it was invisible to the naked eye were enough to destroy everything, and also attracted the attention of European and American clubs.
“The main thing is, after that hand injury, I heard Dark’s current position in the team has already transformed into a rifler holding defensive anchor spots. Looks like his recovery isn’t very good. He probably can’t AWP anymore. Sigh, I hope I can still see him get on stage and dance one more time at the upcoming Antwerp Major. Even if it’s his ‘Last Dance,’ that’d be fine!”
“I’m not trolling! I’m really not trolling this time!”
“Oh right, let me tell you guys an interesting story from when Dark first went pro in China...”
At the same time.
Seattle, United States, EG club base.
Under the fluorescent lights of the white suspended ceiling, a long-haired youth wearing a loose white shirt with only the second button fastened at the chest was duo-queuing FPL with his younger cousin back in China.
“Hello, hello! Did you see that! I was fucking handsome that round!”
“I was spinning like a damn top around mid doors and X-box! This fucking game has no teammates, Xiao Tong!”
“Holy shit! I got picked from the front!”
“Quick, quick, quick! Three headshots on short! Super low!”
Meng Lang never stopped running his mouth when playing games.
On the other end of voice chat, his cousin Wang Yitong’s face was expressionless, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
Are you kidding me?
Three headshots and super low?
Amazing.
Can you get any more ridiculous?
His cousin Wang Yitong was Tyloo’s main AWPer and had once spent a year in NAVI’s youth team.
This year, namely early 2022, he actually had the chance to receive a main AWPer offer from European powerhouse G2.
Unexpectedly, when it came down to the final moment, the job was snatched away by another genius youngster from Russia.
In the end, he returned to China and chose Tyloo.
Wang Yitong, whose looks were delicate and handsome, was an expressionless type comparable to Sima Laozei from the neighboring LOL pro scene. Though he grumbled endlessly inwardly, his face did not change in the slightest.
Calmly and without showing a trace, he raised his AWP. With an easy, casual Peek, he picked off the “super low” CT on short that Meng Lang had mentioned.
“Beautiful! Planes in the sky fly high, but my cousin on the ground is the slickest guy!”
“Hey, hey, hey! Us brothers in this server are like a little cow taking a sauna... truly steaming awesome!”
On this side, Meng Lang proudly put his hands on his hips.
Seeing that the final round of this Dust2 game was about to be won, he was just about to run his mouth a few more times when the door to the training room behind him was pushed open. A voice with a Californian accent urged him,
“Done? If you’re done, come to the meeting. The manager says there’s something to announce.”
“Okay, okay! Coming right away!”
Meng Lang made a gesture without turning his head. The smile at the corner of his mouth gradually faded.
EG club meeting room.
The ceiling lights were deathly pale. The players lowered their heads and stared at the hems of their clothes.
The occasional scraping of chairs was piercing. Silence hung on everyone’s shoulders like blocks of lead.
For all of last year, EG’s results had been poor. They failed to enter the playoff stage of any major tournament, and their world ranking continued to decline.
Although they had made up their minds this year to adjust, bringing in Stewie2K, RUSH, and autimatic in an attempt to use this “North American championship core” from Cloud9’s 2018 roster to revive the glory of North American CS...
The results were still miserable.
In January, at the BLAST Premier Spring Groups, EG lost every match and were eliminated, finishing last in the group stage and failing to enter the Spring Finals.
In February, at the ESL Melbourne North American closed qualifier, EG lost 1–2 to Party Astronauts, a North American second-tier team, once again stopping before the main event. At the same time, it completely exposed the team’s lack of a lower bound.
At this point, North American fans were completely disappointed in the so-called EG that had “integrated the C9 championship core.” The outside world’s criticism of EG’s players was unending.
As the IGL, Stewie2K was once mocked by the community for reckless calling and lack of discipline, refusing to communicate with the head coach, ignoring tactical pauses, and so on, causing internal team conflicts to intensify.
But 2K, as the IGL, did not think so.
“There’s a cancer in the team!”
In the quiet meeting room, before everyone had even arrived, the silence was broken.
“Who it is, I don’t think I need to say. You should all know.”
The moment 2K opened his mouth, his spearhead was aimed implicitly at Meng Lang, who had not yet arrived.
Why?
On one hand, he hated this “fellow countryman’s” personality.
Always smiling all day, able to chat with anyone, acting like he had such good relationships with everyone.
On the other hand, he felt that Meng Lang, after transitioning to rifler, was genuinely bad. In their losses, this guy was the true cancer. It was just that his stats looked slightly better, while the outside audience thought the problem was with him, the IGL.
If not him, who should they kick?
After a pause, 2K continued as if pretending to be fair and objective.
“Actually, Dark as a player might have been okay on the AWP before. But this year, his hand injury means he can’t AWP anymore. He switched to rifler and plays defensive anchor. Everyone’s seen his performance in scrims. Personally, I don’t think there’s any need to keep him on the team.”
“What do you all think?”
After speaking, 2K turned to look at the others.
Brehze and CeRq in EG looked at one another.
To be honest, as the old members who stayed after EG’s rebuild this year, they felt this handsome Eastern kid promoted from the youth team had an excellent personality.
He did talk a little too much, but he was optimistic and cheerful, could chat with anyone, was willing to sacrifice for the team during matches, took the initiative to help pull everyone together after losing rounds, and immediately cheered for others after they won rounds.
Moreover, his praise was not like others, who only shouted “Nice” on the surface. This guy could even accurately say exactly where your play had been “nice.”
For example, your counter-strafe was very stable!
That spray transfer was invincible!
Good job pushing mid for info!
If there was truly nothing to praise, he could still say your smoke was well thrown.
In short, his emotional value was completely maxed out.
In any case, he was much better than 2K, the team tyrant IGL who pressured teammates at every turn.
But before they could speak, a somewhat impatient voice sounded by their ears.
“Hurry up and let him go.”
EG’s club manager sat slanted on the sofa and waved his hand in annoyance.
It was not that he thought Meng Lang’s mechanics were so bad that he absolutely had to be kicked.
To put it bluntly, from last year until the first half of this year, EG had almost rotted completely.
One more bit of rot made no difference.
It was just that this Asian posted on INS after every match. It was said he also had a Weibo account with nearly a thousand followers—if, in the future, some dark internal club power struggle happened, and this guy spilled everything, then they, the management, would be the first to be scolded.
As the manager, he subconsciously loathed this kind of uncontrollable player.
At the side, Coach Vorborg hesitated for a moment, but still spoke. “But Dark is only eighteen this year. I feel his potential is not bad. He hasn’t been a rifler for long. Perhaps we can develop him a little...”
“Develop him?”
EG’s manager immediately sneered and cut him off directly.
“Bro, are you confused? Potential? There are plenty of people with potential.”
“That guy already completely exposed the inherent inferiority of Easterners last time. Incompetent rage! He lost the match and smashed the table. The upper limit of his career is only that much.”
“I think transitioning to rifler is still too difficult for him,” Banana Man 2K said expressionlessly. “China has an old saying: before resisting foreign enemies, one must first pacify the inside. If we want results at the Antwerp Major this time, the cancer inside the team must go.”
“Either he stays, or we leave.”
By the end, the impatient 2K directly used the little C9 clique he had brought with him to force the issue.
Coach Vorborg glanced at 2K and sighed inwardly, knowing the player could not be kept.
It was very simple: internal conflict.
Dark was ultimately too young, and in daily life, he had offended 2K, the team’s IGL.
And the current EG was clearly built around 2K, this former Major champion. They were playing “clique” esports.
If he didn’t leave, who would?
“All right, guys.”
EG’s manager sensed that the coach seemed to want to say something else, and decisively waved his hand, as if swatting away some annoying fly.
His tone was full of disgust.
“He’s just an unenlightened Chinese player. There’s no need to discuss him so much. His contract is about to expire anyway. Notify him later. Have him pack up and leave tonight.”
“The main thing I want to talk about in today’s meeting is this Antwerp Major—”
Creak—!
Suddenly, the door to the meeting room was pushed open, and a tall, slender youth walked in.
His black hair fell over his forehead, covering the peaks of his brows. His nose bridge looked as if it had been carved out with a folding knife. Under the club’s white jersey, faintly visible muscles bulged slightly. For some reason, in EG’s manager’s mind appeared that terrifying punch at last year’s IEM Winter, the punch that had almost sent the steel table flying.
Thus, almost subconsciously, the somewhat guilty white manager shrank his neck. Only in the next second did he realize that he seemed to have shown cowardice, and he immediately hurriedly straightened his body, raised his head, and glared back.
But he was shocked to discover that the latter had completely ignored him.
“Looks like the meeting about me is already over?”
Silence.
“Looks like there’s no need to notify you separately.”
At last, EG’s manager, whose expression had returned to normal, said coldly, “The club just held a meeting and decided to demote you. We will not be renewing your contract going forward.”
Meng Lang gave a faint mocking smile, but did not bother with the EG manager. He simply turned his head and looked straight at 2K.
“You have a problem with me?”
When he said this, the corner of his mouth still carried a smile.
Yet for some reason, it made people feel a little uncomfortable.
Banana Man 2K’s mind flashed back to that punch, and he subconsciously averted his gaze.
But then he thought again: he was in the club base. Did Meng Lang dare hit someone?
He immediately glared back. “Can’t I? The AWP is so strong in this version, and you can’t even win a key clutch. You have the nerve to ask if I have a problem?”
Hearing this, Meng Lang immediately smiled and shook his head. He took two steps toward 2K, whose eyes instantly showed a trace of panic.
“As for whether the IGL has a brain or not, I won’t discuss that.”
“Then let me ask you...”
At one meter ninety tall, he lowered his head and looked down at 2K. “The AWP is strong in this version, that’s true. But is my AWP a head-locking machine? Is my AWP automatic?”
2K was caught off guard by the question and froze!
“Answer me.”
Meng Lang’s tone rose slightly.
“Is my AWP automatic? Can it turn on aimbot?”
“After I snipe one, don’t I still have to chamber the next bullet? Can I snipe five with one shot?”
“You can question my clutch ability. Then let me ask you, after the match, was my Rating green or not? We lost, yes, but wasn’t it one green and four red?”
“Hm? Answer me.”
2K suddenly felt somewhat uncomfortable being stared down by Meng Lang. He lowered his head and shifted his gaze away, but the tone by his ear abruptly rose again!
Answer me!
Meng Lang’s voice exploded without warning!
Like a thunderclap striking straight down from a clear sky, Banana Man suddenly felt his scalp go numb as if electricity had run through it.
He subconsciously lowered his head, and his heart began beating faster without his control.
At this moment, a strange emotion actually surged up from deep within his heart.
Fear!
Yes, at this moment, Banana Man 2K was actually somewhat afraid under the direct gaze of Meng Lang, this normally harmless youth.
Was that punch too memorable?
No!
Why the fuck should I be afraid of him?!
Suddenly, the awakened 2K noticed the strange gazes of his teammates around him. As the captain, his face instantly flushed red all the way down to his neck. He forced himself to raise his head and glared viciously at Meng Lang.
“It’s useless telling me this...”
“This is the club’s decision. If you have an opinion, tell them.”
“Who wasn’t trying their best? We were all giving it our all in the matches...”
“...”
Suddenly, Meng Lang let out a faint mocking laugh and interrupted him.
“Who said I had an opinion?”
In an instant, the aura around him vanished as if it had never existed, and he once again became that sunny boy-next-door.
A melon forced off the vine is never sweet.
“I respect the club’s decision.”
One light sentence.
After saying it, the youth freely waved at Coach Vorborg and the two former old teammates.
Then he turned around and disappeared through the meeting room door.
Out in a palace coup?
Didn’t matter.
In any case, he had long since prepared himself.
Behind him, however, 2K stared blankly at Meng Lang’s carefree departing back.
Why was it that, even though he had clearly forced out the cancer in the team...
There was no satisfying feeling at all?
Fuck!
He was clearly a homeless dog, a piece of trash who had ruined his career through incompetent rage in a match.
What was he acting so smug for?!
After reacting, 2K gritted his teeth in anger.
Faint thunder rumbled beneath the overcast sky.
Thick clouds, like cotton batting, spread over from the southeast, gradually shrouding the city of Seattle. A heavy rain was already brewing.
Meng Lang wore a loose white shirt, the buttons at his chest fastened only to the second. The powerful, leopard-like lines of his muscles were faintly exposed. He was pulling a suitcase and standing at the club entrance.
He raised a hand and touched his chin, lifted his head to look at the sky, and took a deep breath of air soaked with the scent of wind and rain. For some reason, scenes from the past surfaced in his mind.
He encountered CS at six.
At eleven, he went to school at eight and came home at four.
At night, he beat up pro players in CSGO, and along the way won the Sichuan-Chongqing provincial math olympiad championship.
At thirteen, he played online tournaments and was suspected of cheating by pro players. His father bought tickets and brought him to Jianghai to prove himself offline. Then he received Tyloo’s invitation and officially embarked on the professional path.
Unfortunately, the next year, his father, who drove a large freight truck, passed away in an accident.
At that time, at home he had elderly, frail grandparents above him, and he watched helplessly as his mother, who sold vegetables at the market, rose early and slept late every day to support the family and still pay for his schooling with such hardship.
Thus, under the introduction of the overseas “enthusiastic netizen” NiKo, Meng Lang ultimately chose to suspend his studies.
He went far away to North America, joined a youth team, and officially entered the professional scene, even if he could only play some small and medium-sized foreign online tournaments.
There was no choice. Back then, there was basically no CS environment in China, while even small and medium-sized tournaments overseas had quite a bit of prize money, and salaries were high too.
On the night before he went abroad,
he confidently said to his mother:
“Dad is gone. I can play CS and still support this family!”
In the blink of an eye, two and a half years had passed. He had not expected that he himself would also face the crisis of unemployment.
Meng Lang could not help but smile.
Did it hurt to be forced out?
It would definitely be a lie to say it didn’t.
But CS was such a cruel competitive game.
Conflicts were conflicts.
In the end, strength was king.
There was no need to blame the heavens or others either.
Meng Lang never wasted energy on internal conflict. He posted on INS first.
He took out his phone from his pocket and snapped a selfie of himself standing at the EG club entrance. Tugging at the corners of his mouth, he revealed a mouthful of healthy white teeth.
Of course you had to smile for a selfie!
【Farewell, EG! —Dark, 18.】
Attached was a selfie.
INS was equivalent to the international version of “Xiaohongshu.” With two billion monthly active users worldwide, compared to Twitter, which focused more on short text plus topics, it placed more emphasis on sharing images and text.
And Meng Lang was undoubtedly someone who loved to share. His INS followers had just reached 777 today.
After posting on INS, thinking of his domestic fans, he turned around and posted on Weibo as well.
【Farewell forever, EG! —That Year, Eighteen】
Though he said eighteen, Meng Lang was actually only seventeen right now. He would only turn eighteen after his birthday in June.
Meng Lang’s Weibo had roughly a little over two thousand followers, though of course quite a few among them were zombie accounts.
Before long, the comment sections on both platforms showed plenty of “enthusiastic messages” from fans who often followed him.
“Holy shit! Dark really got couped! Big Hand Wan made his move!!!”
“I’m convinced by this prediction! The monk really called it!”
“He’s been kicked and he’s still smiling? I fucking admire Dark’s mentality! Worthy of the ‘great personality’ that Wanjiqi sharply reviewed!”
“I just don’t get it. EG played like that this year, and the biggest blame doesn’t go to Banana Man’s brain-dead calling? Why is Dark the first to get kicked?”
“Lmao, after Dark’s hand injury, his AWP whiffs were terrifying. After switching to rifler, he didn’t have that flavor either. Over in EG, CeRq is an old AWPer still hanging on. If not him, who do they kick?”
“Serves you right! That’s what you get for trolling NiKo with Wanjiqi every day.”
“If you don’t understand, don’t talk nonsense. Dark and Young Master Ni are pretty close.”
“Fun fact: back then, it was Young Master Ni who introduced Dark to a North American youth team. Young Master Ni even gave Dark a computer.”
“...”
At this moment, Meng Lang, who had finished posting on Weibo, paid no attention to the comments—he posted on Weibo purely to share his life. Alone in a foreign land, this was the self-regulation method of a youth only seventeen and a half years old.
Pulling his suitcase, he walked beneath the dim sky, walking along the Seattle street lit by the lights of storefronts. Yet a faint sense of unfamiliarity rose within his heart.
Perhaps, on the road of chasing after his dream all these years,
he had gradually lost himself.
He thought of the Antwerp Major one week later.
Once, when he debuted at thirteen, he had been the most talented kid in the hearts of many CN viewers. Everyone had thought it was only a matter of time before he stepped onto the world stage of tier-one events.
No one had expected that the now-seventeen-year-old Meng Lang, who had only recently stepped onto the stage of a major event for the first time, would have it become his last dance—and was about to miss the most important Major tournament of his professional career.
Originally, he had thought that at the very least, he could try a tier-one event one more time, make one more push for the Major.
He had not expected even his final chance to be lost.
Lowering his head, he glanced at his right hand. The report from half a year ago surfaced in his mind—fracture of the neck of the fifth metacarpal, soft tissue injury, and neurovascular injury, possibly causing the complication of traumatic arthritis.
The first two were still all right. They could recover in two or three months.
But traumatic arthritis belonged to bone hyperplasia after damage to the articular surface. It could possibly cause chronic pain and decreased grip strength. For an FPS pro player, a decline in control over fine hand movements was undoubtedly extremely fatal.
In truth, the normal Meng Lang would never have done something so irrational. But in that kind of situation, when he had thrown his entire body and mind into a fierce battle to reach overtime, seeing that winning that round would give them hope, only to fall short at the final moment—the extreme regret and extreme desire to win at that instant produced negative emotions more than enough to easily pierce through a youth’s reason.
He moved his palm a little. The slight pain made Meng Lang sober up somewhat, and he could not help but shake his head and laugh faintly.
Only now did he gradually understand. As a youth, he had relied on talent to become famous domestically. Even after entering Party Astronauts’ North American youth team, he was still playing “instinct CS.”
He had once believed that outstanding talent could pierce through everything, that going abroad was merely to make money, that with pure reaction speed and raw aim he could win those matches, and that there was no need to learn too many messy academic things.
Yet every gift from fate had long since been secretly marked with a price.
Yes, long ago...
Where was the road ahead?
Continue going to other clubs to try his luck finding a job?
Or retire and stream to earn money?
Or perhaps really go to Shijiazhuang to seek refuge with Wanjiqi and become a second-stream host?
But he truly loved CS!
He truly loved the arena!
He truly loved the stage!
That so-called “nervousness” some players had at LANs—Meng Lang had never felt that emotion.
Offline matches would only make him “excited,” and then his focus would reach a level unprecedented!
Just as the youth was lost in a daze.
Ding—!
Without warning, a mechanical system voice sounded in Meng Lang’s mind.
【Host information detected!】
【Goat System beginning binding!】
【This system provides guidance for hosts encountering CS for the first time. Complete beginner missions to receive rewards, allowing the host to step by step ascend the staircase to godhood.】
Hm?
System?
Meng Lang was stunned at first!
Then shocked!
Finally delighted!
I’m getting hacks?!
Wait!
Beginner guidance?
Something about this hack seems wrong, doesn’t it?
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