AWM: PUBG - Chapter 3

The practice sessions dragged on from 3:00 PM until 9:00 PM. Unsurprisingly, Qi Zui’s squad held the top overall score, but the first round had been marred by his significant blunder, and in the subsequent matches, Yu Qianxi’s performance had plummeted to an embarrassing level. Once the drills concluded, the four members of the First Team were “detained” by the coach for a grueling, frame-by-frame review of the footage.

Coach Lai Hua was HOG’s previous captain. Since retiring to coach, he had maintained a stern, no-nonsense authority that even Qi Zui respected. Sensing the suffocating tension in the room, the manager, He Xiaoxu, quietly slipped downstairs to pack their dinners into lunchboxes and brought them up.

In professional training, the post-match review is the most agonizing part.

Winning games are easy to breeze through, but when a match is played as poorly as this one, riddled with constant errors—watching the coach replay the footage under a magnifying glass is nothing short of a public execution. Yu Qianxi, already red-eyed from staying up all night, now saw that redness spread to his face, ears, and neck. As Lai Hua’s temper flared with each passing round, he finally exploded, tearing into Yu Qianxi. He then summoned He Xiaoxu and ordered him to cap Yu Qianxi’s streaming time at four hours per day.

“Qi Zui…”

Qi Zui, who had been buried in his meal, looked up. “Hmm?”

Lai Hua was Qi Zui’s old captain. He had been Qi Zui’s teammate for five years starting when the latter was seventeen, and had been his coach for nearly three years since retiring. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he’d watched Qi Zui grow up.

Consequently, Qi Zui didn’t fear him like the others did. He swallowed his food, took a tissue to wipe his mouth, sat up straight, and smiled. “Yes, Captain?”

“Call me Coach…” Lai Hua frowned but sighed. “Keep your form up. Reflect on why you made that mistake today and make sure you avoid it next time. Pay attention.”

“Understood.”

Qi Zui went back to his food, not forgetting to take occasional sips of soup. Yu Qianxi shot Qi Zui a look of cold displeasure before shoving a mouthful of plain white rice into his mouth.

The review session lasted until 11:00 PM. The First Team’s schedule typically ran from 2:00 PM to 2:00 AM; usually, afternoons were for training matches, while evenings after dinner were for solo or team-queued games. Feeling miserable, Yu Qianxi announced he was going to practice solo and left. Bu Nana and Lao Kai, needing to work on their duo synergy, headed off hand-in-hand, leaving Qi Zui on his own.

“Brother Qi!” He Xiaoxu intercepted him, looking helpless. “The ‘Mrs. Qis’ are about to blow up the official Weibo. No matter what I post, the comments are just people crying for you. If you’re free tonight, just stream for a bit to appease the masses, okay? Our Taobao shop is launching the new team jerseys at the end of the month, and we’re counting on your ‘wives’ to drive up the sales.”

“If you have time to read Weibo comments, why don’t you contact the forum mods to ban a few IPs?” Qi Zui was in no mood to stream and deliberately changed the subject. “You guys are used to people starting rumors about me, right? A bunch of people are saying I only train three hours a day and that I’m ‘done for.’ They don’t stop to think—if their Daddy really trained seven or eight hours a day…”

Qi Zui draped his team jacket over his shoulders and gave a lazy smile. “Would any other team even have a chance to survive?”

Coach Lai Hua, who had lagged behind, happened to overhear this. He gave Qi Zui an exasperated look. “Could you have a bit of shame? If you’re not training, go stream! Do something productive! The First Team’s average training time is only ten hours, and you’re the one dragging it down. The Second Team does fourteen, and some of the youth trainees are putting in sixteen! You do three or four hours a day—is it really a crime for them to scold you?”

“Youth trainees…” Qi Zui pursed his lips. “Who? Who’s that desperate?”

“Youth. Your Captain Lai’s new favorite son,” He Xiaoxu chuckled. “The kid sleeps six hours a day max and eats all his meals in front of the computer. Ah… to be young again.”

Qi Zui gave an indistinct hum and reflexively asked, “By the way, does the team have any medicine for—”

“For what?” He Xiaoxu stopped in his tracks. “Medicine for what?”

“Never mind.” Qi Zui shook his head and frowned. “I’m going to stream.”

*****

Back in the training room, Bu Nana and the others were already mid-duo. Qi Zui logged into the game and started his stream.

Having not streamed for months and without any prior notice, his popularity rocketed to a million viewers in under three minutes. By the time he finished browsing the web and looked back, the count had surpassed three million. The bullet comments (danmu) were flying by so fast he had to squint to read them. He smiled. “I’m fine. Just busy. Too lazy to stream.”

The danmu paused for a split second before exploding even faster.

【It’s been three months! I finally heard my husband’s voice! AHHHH he still sounds so good, I can die happy now.】

【QAQ Husband, you’re so heartless, but why do I still love you so much?】

【Waaaah God Qi, if you don’t stream soon I’m going to jump ship and fan that fat bastard Banana instead!】

【AHHHH God Qi is your camera broken again? Why isn’t it on?】

【When are the spring jerseys coming out? I want to wear a couple’s outfit with my husband.】

Looking at the words “couple’s outfit,” Qi Zui’s mouse cursor stuttered.

This spring, HOG would indeed have a jersey identical to his—except the back would be printed with “Youth.”

Qi Zui massaged his temples, toggled off the danmu overlay, and hit “Play.”

He chose a random squad queue, intending to play casually. While in the “Spawn Island”, he was still looking down at his phone until someone in the game started screaming like they’d seen a ghost: “HOG! HOG!”

Qi Zui usually used an alt account for random queues to avoid being harrassed. He looked up, confused. “…”

The teammate wasn’t shouting at him. They were shouting at the other person in their squad: HOG-Youth.

What kind of twisted fate is this…

Yu Yang had clearly not expected this encounter either. The speaker icon next to his ID flickered once and then went dark; Qi Zui guessed he had muted his mic.

Qi Zui’s lips moved, but before he could speak, the other random teammate sounded even more shocked. He screamed the team’s name for a while before repeatedly calling out Yu Yang’s ID, his voice brimming with excitement. Even the engine noise of the plane couldn’t drown him out: “Sind Sie Youth? Wirklich? Ich bin Ihr Fan!”

He was German.

Yu Yang’s speaker icon flickered twice more, but for some reason, he still said nothing.

Qi Zui marked a location on the map and said flatly, “Dropping.”

Yu Yang’s icon flickered, and he stammered, “O-Okay.”

Qi Zui pursed his lips and sighed inwardly. God Qi, you’re really losing your edge…

The four of them landed. Yu Yang instinctively drifted far away, making sure not to compete with Qi Zui for loot. After that one sentence, Qi Zui didn’t speak again, making the atmosphere incredibly tense.

Fortunately, there was the German player. He acted as the perfect buffer, circling Yu Yang excitedly and talking nonstop. Whether Yu Yang was annoyed or simply overwhelmed by the fan’s passion, he finally muttered awkwardly in a low voice, “I… I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

The German player obviously didn’t understand Chinese, but he remained undeterred, chattering even more than before. “Sind Sie Youth? Sind Sie Youth?”

While looting, Yu Yang repeated softly, “I don’t understand English.”

Qi Zui adjusted his headset. He looked down, paused for a moment, and then said calmly, “He’s asking if you are really Youth.”

BANG. Yu Yang’s gun misfired.

Evidently shocked that Qi Zui had spoken, Yu Yang froze before quickly replying, “Yes, yes.”

Qi Zui couldn’t be sure if he was imagining it, but he thought he heard a slight tremor in Yu Yang’s voice.

Qi Zui said to the German player: “Ja, genau.” (Yes, exactly.)

The fan became even more ecstatic: “Ich bin Ihr Fan! Ich habe Ihren Wettkampf gesehen! Ich mag Sie super!” (I’m your fan! I’ve seen your matches! I like you so much!)

Yu Yang’s side went quiet for a moment. He asked softly, “What… what did he say?”

Qi Zui stared silently at Yu Yang’s in-game ID. He didn’t speak for a long time.

The team voice chat remained silent for a full minute.

Having been left hanging, Yu Yang felt incredibly awkward. He put his head down to collect resources, sensibly choosing not to speak again and risk being a nuisance.

“He…” Qi Zui swapped his weapon. As he reloaded, he said slowly, “He asked you… if this ‘7DRUNK’ in the squad is actually Drunk.”

Yu Yang was stunned. He hadn’t expected a random player to recognize Qi Zui’s alt. He subconsciously replied, “Yes… yes.”

Qi Zui said to the German player: “Danke. Bitte verfolgen Sie ihn aufmerksam weiter.” (He says thank you for the support. Please continue to follow his career closely.)

The German player nodded vigorously, huddling his character close to Yu Yang’s. “Ja, ja! Ich unterstütze Sie für immer.” (Yes, yes! I will support him forever.)

Yu Yang was lost. Qi Zui looted a few attachments and continued his “translation”: “He asked you… why you came to HOG.”

Yu Yang’s character stood frozen in a garage for nearly thirty seconds.

Yu Yang stammered, “Because… HOG is very… very strong. Always…”

Qi Zui let out a short, cold laugh. Flustered, Yu Yang fell silent and muted his mic again.

The German player, oblivious to the drama, was just happy to have met Youth. He opened his mic again: “Wohin gehen wir?” (Where are we going?)

Another period of heavy silence followed in the voice chat.

Yu Yang’s voice was very low, timid and soft. “What… did he say?”

Qi Zui let go of his keyboard and mouse, leaning back into his chair.

He stared at Yu Yang’s ID in the game. After a long pause, he said tonelessly, “He asked you… do you like Qi Zui?”

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