Assassin, Don't Be Too Arrogant [E-sports] - Chapter 2

He downed the water in his glass in one gulp, roughly ran his fingers through his hair, and let out a long sigh.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to keep his promise; it was just that WG played so poorly. He couldn’t exactly curse them out on stream, could he?

After steadying his mood, Jian Yao adjusted the camera. This was his first time showing his face on stream. He disliked doing so because it felt like being under surveillance.

Looking at his own face displayed in the streaming software, he couldn’t quite put his finger on what felt off.

But a bet was a bet, and a promise made should be kept.

After ten minutes of mental preparation, Jian Yao moved the mouse and clicked “Start Stream.”

The sparse barrage of question marks paused for a second before spiraling in an uncontrollable direction.

[Who is this handsome guy?!]

[I bet it’s a still photo that won’t move.]

[I bet it’s an animated GIF he found somewhere.]

“To those asking who I am, look at the stream name in the top left corner. Don’t you know who you followed?”

Jian Yao watched the barrage scrolling faster than before. “I promised you guys. A bet’s a bet.”

[Forget the match, just watch you instead.]

“What are you talking about? Even if it’s 3:0, we still have to watch. We should show them respect.”

As he spoke, Jian Yao opened the match stream. Unsurprisingly, Summer Map had already been taken by SG, and the moment WG’s last player was eliminated on Autumn Map was displayed right before his eyes.

He forced a smile and said, “Let’s congratulate SG for defeating WG 3:0 and advancing to the finals.”

[Hahahahaha, I’m dying! Tonight is the night of the jinx, YAO!]

[Streamer, you should quit gambling.]

Putting on a brave face, Jian Yao skillfully opened “The Chaser.” To shift his mood, he wanted to change his in-game outfit.

His in-game avatar wasn’t much different from his real-life appearance, except for the addition of a mask.

Usually, he would turn off the display interface when changing clothes, only turning it back on after he was done, so no one had ever seen his face beneath the mask in the game.

Upon entering the game, an event interface popped up—”Search for the Vanished Heart.”

“A new dungeon? Has anyone played it?” Jian Yao scanned the barrage for answers.

[Just played it, couldn’t figure it out at all.]

[Too hard to play solo. Recommend finding teammates.]

[It’s about ghosts and deities. After entering, you have to choose which faction you belong to. In short: I’m playing another game within a game.]

Jian Yao laughed. “Which dungeon in this game doesn’t create a new world? Only the ones with great feedback get sequels, right.”

[True.]

[YAO, stop talking and go play it already!]

Aside from these comments, many others urged Jian Yao to watch a video edited by a fan.

“A video? What video? Should I just search my name?”

[YAOYAO Check It Out!]

[Search “YAOYAO Check It Out!”]

“What?” Jian Yao was confused and hesitantly typed those words into the search bar.

Just as he entered the three letters “YAO,” the search engine immediately displayed the title “YAOYAO Check It Out!” at the top.

The eye-catching “Trending” tag next to it made his eyelid twitch involuntarily.

He clicked on the entry and saw the first video under it, prominently featuring his own face and a striking title. It had been uploaded just ten minutes ago but already had over a hundred thousand views!

Suddenly, he didn’t feel like watching it anymore.

Yet his hand still moved the mouse and clicked.

At the same time, another person was also watching this video—

Saying there was something to do was just an excuse; Wen Zhe simply didn’t want to waste time there.

He’d rather go home, get on the game to practice his feel, and make up some of his streaming hours while he was at it.

But he hadn’t expected that in less than an hour, SG would sweep the match 3:0—that was a bit surprising.

Scrolling through the messages in the pro group chat, it seemed he’d need to pay attention to the match a week from now.

With that thought, he pulled up his gaming chair and sat down in front of the computer, opening the streaming software and refreshing the homepage. One video caught his eye—”YAOYAO Check It Out!”

YAO? Wasn’t that the person from the video Su Ze and Zhong Yuyi saw this afternoon?

He heard they said he didn’t show his face but the person on the video thumbnail was that him?

Wen Zhe’s hand moved on its own, clicking to play the video.

This seemed to be a meme video…

“I’m betting on WG, 3:0. Battle? You guys against me?”

“Fine, let’s bet. What’s the wager?”

“Show my face, okay. If SG can take even one point from WG, I’ll show my face.”

“Bro, he’s an assassin, not a squishy! You’re the one who looks like a melon-head.”

“Am I watching a pro league match?”

Listening to the person in the video rambling on, Wen Zhe relaxed his furrowed brow.

A minute later, seeing his own reflection on the computer screen, he thought the video had ended. Leaning in for a closer look, the same face from the video thumbnail suddenly appeared… chattering away about something…

But he didn’t pay attention to what came after. His pupils reflected the figure on the screen until the creator’s closing remarks snapped him out of it.

Wen Zhe rubbed his temples slightly. This streamer named YAO didn’t look very old, had a clean, fair complexion, and certainly had a way with words—unexpectedly so.

With that thought, he immediately searched for YAO, clicked into his homepage, and casually noticed his birthday.

November 9th. What a coincidence—that was the day of the finals, and it happened to be his 21st birthday.

Noticing “LIVE” displayed next to his name, Wen Zhe unconsciously clicked in and found YAO watching that very video himself, just reaching the part at the end where he gritted his teeth and wished SG a 3:0 victory over WG.

Jian Yao pursed his lips, muttering through his teeth, “Great video. Next time, don’t edit it…”

Then, as if puzzled by something, he suddenly leaned closer to the camera. “Wait, were you sitting on the router while editing this? Didn’t this just happen?”

[Only YAO sent a highlighted comment: Hehe, actually, it was originally just the earlier part with the prediction contrast, but I didn’t expect you to show your face, and even less expected the drama after showing your face, so I just edited that in too.]

“Thanks a lot,” Jian Yao said, holding his forehead. “I feel mentally and physically exhausted.”

[Who can heal your soul?]

[I know this one—call Wen Zhe over. That guy will snap you right out of it.]

Just seeing Wen Zhe’s name, Jian Yao was already about to sit up straight, but considering he was on camera, he could only slowly straighten his posture, pretending not to care. “Whoever you call will work just fine. I’m planning to end the stream now. We’ll find time to run the dungeon tomorrow.”

[Come quick, Philosopher God!]

Wen Zhe glanced at the comments, watching as YAO slowly straightened his back, a slight smile curling at the corner of his mouth. His fingertips tapped on his phone screen.

[AFG.Wzhe: I’m here.]

Jian Yao couldn’t figure out what was happening because the barrage of comments was scrolling too fast. “What are you all so excited about?”

“Stop lying, I don’t see anything on my end.”

Jian Yao fiddled with his phone, watching the screen flooded with comments about Wen Zhe. These people didn’t want him to end the stream, so they were pulling this trick. He wasn’t going to fall for it, especially since Wen Zhe’s own fans were debunking it:

【This isn’t our Zhe. Zhe is an untouchable flower on a high peak; he never gets involved in this kind of thing.】

But the slap in the face came in an instant!

The announcement popped up, and the entire room fell silent.

“Ding—”

The computer notification sound rang out. He looked up, his mouth moving faster than his brain as he immediately read the on-screen message:

“Thank you AFG.Wzhe for sending 10 Supreme Trophies. Thank you, boss! That’s too generous. Boss is so generous, may you make a fortune! If you clicked by mistake, feel free to message me in the backend for a refund anytime.”

Wait, something’s off…

Lost in thought, Jian Yao’s left hand, which had been idly tapping on the table, came to a stop…

He slapped his thigh with a “smack,” ignoring the slight sting, and immediately moved the mouse with his right hand, widening his eyes to check the name of the gift-giver. He couldn’t help muttering, “With a name like that, what’s Wen Zhe himself supposed to do?”

Jian Yao confirmed the barrage of comments, which were now running wild like untamed horses, and his heart beat faster and faster.

【[Supreme Barrage] AFG.Wzhe sent a highlighted comment: What if I told you I’m the real deal?】

“You’re the real deal?” Jian Yao’s voice trembled.

【[Supreme Barrage] AFG.Wzhe: Want me to prove it?】

“How do you…” Before he could finish, Jian Yao saw the connected voice call on his screen—

This was a privilege reserved only for viewers who spent 18,888 in one go as Supreme Members. For calls from Supreme Members, the streamer could only hang up after five seconds of answering.

“Hello! Can you hear me?”

The familiar voice directly entered Jian Yao’s ears, sending a tingling sensation that made him restless. His mind went completely blank.

“Hello? Can’t you hear me?” The silence on the other end made Wen Zhe doubt, but seeing the ticking voice call timer, he waited patiently.

“Y-yes, I can hear you…” Jian Yao quickly turned off his camera, buried his head in his arms on the desk, and tried to calm himself down.

This was his idol… this was Wen Zhe!

“Glad you can hear me. This is my first time doing this, so I was worried you couldn’t.”

Wen Zhe chuckled lightly. Because he was speaking so close to the microphone, the sound made Jian Yao’s ears itch.

“Mhm…” Jian Yao didn’t know what to say. He was just too! Nervous!

“I’ve requested a video call. Accept it on your end,” Wen Zhe continued, not giving Jian Yao a chance to speak. “I’ll prove I’m the real deal. If it were just voice, someone could fake that, right?”

The logical explanation made Jian Yao swallow the question, “Why do we need to turn on video?”

Tens of thousands of viewers in the livestream watched as the not-so-“responsive” cursor on the screen finally moved to the “Accept” option and clicked.

With reddened ears, Jian Yao watched as his face and Wen Zhe’s appeared side by side on the screen.

Wen Zhe was still wearing the same outfit from the live broadcast earlier. The camera zoomed in on his face, making him look even more refined than in the competition livestreams or the small camera view from Wen Zhe’s usual streams.

And as for himself…

Jian Yao glanced at his own image on the other side of the screen. Thankfully, thankfully—the redness at the tips of his ears wasn’t too obvious on the display.

Bless the inventor of live-streaming beauty filters for saving him!

“Now I can prove that I’m the real deal, right?” Wen Zhe’s lips curved slightly upward, his eyes fixed intently on the camera. Jian Yao felt as though he were being seen right through, even across the distance. “Let me introduce myself—I’m Wen Zhe, captain of the AFG team.”

“I—I’m called…” Before Jian Yao could finish saying his own name, Wen Zhe cut in, “Hold on a moment.”