AWM: PUBG - Chapter 4

Qi Zui’s words hung in the air. He idly opened his streaming assistant; his room had already surged to over eight million viewers, and the chat was moving so fast it looked ready to combust.

【AHHHHHHHH…】

【What is happening?!!!!!!!】

【Is this Youth the same “Little God Yang” I know? Is it him? He joined HOG?!!!!】

【Hahaha, does HOG really only sign people based on their face?】

【Wait, why did the German guy ask that? Is there something I don’t know?】

【Who is Youth? Why would he like God Qi?】

【Hold on—I only studied German for six months, but why do I feel like God Qi’s translation was a bit… off?】

【Don’t understand a word, but my husband’s German sounds so sexy!】

【Hahaha, Qi Zui, you old rogue! You really think no one understands? See you on the forums! Hahaha.】

With millions watching, there were bound to be people who knew German. Not to mention, every one of Qi Zui’s streams was recorded. Even if the viewers didn’t catch it now, they would find out once the “translation” was debunked later.

Qi Zui was used to being the center of rumors and didn’t care; as long as Yu Yang didn’t understand right now, it was fine.

And Yu Yang truly didn’t understand. He couldn’t even distinguish if the foreigner was speaking English or German.

In the first-floor training room, Yu Yang’s fingertips were ice-cold, and his heart was hammering against his ribs. On the game screen, Youth stood exposed by a window like a total newbie, frozen in place.

What could he say?

If he told the truth, would Qi Zui’s next question be: Are you addicted to making a fool of yourself? Do you really think you can use the same old tricks to get me to take care of you at HOG?

“There was no need to force yourself to play along with this.”

That was the last thing Qi Zui had said to him a year ago.

After Qi Zui left, Yu Yang had gone through the trouble of recovering his phone data just to find Qi Zui’s contact info. He had tried to reach out, but his messages had vanished into a void. It took him over half a year to realize that even if he did get through, it wouldn’t matter. He couldn’t possibly explain what had happened last time.

Yu Yang grit his teeth. If he lied now…

*****

Upstairs in the third-floor training room, Qi Zui toggled off the danmu and switched back to the game. The speaker icon next to Yu Yang’s ID remained dark.

The stream chat was a chaotic wall of text, but the game itself was deathly silent.

In-game, the Safe Zone began to shrink. The German player, sensing the awkwardness, tentatively asked again: “Wohin gehen wir?” (Where are we going?)

Qi Zui paused for a moment, then moved his hands back to the keyboard. “My German is just average; I probably mistranslated. What he actually said was…”

“I do.”

On the game interface, the speaker icon next to HOG-Youth flickered.

Downstairs, Yu Yang’s eyes were rimmed with red. He looked down and dropped a few extra attachments from his inventory, snapped on a scope, and aimed his rifle out the window, bracing himself for Qi Zui’s cold mockery.

He had come to the HOG youth camp prepared for this. He had heard that the PUBG division was Qi Zui’s personal kingdom. By joining HOG, he had already accepted that Qi Zui might make things difficult for him.

He wasn’t afraid of being bullied.

Yu Yang’s lips trembled slightly. He kept his head high and repeated in a heavy, low voice: “I do like him.”

After speaking, he turned his head and quickly rubbed his face against his own shoulder.

【OH MY GOD AHHHHHH…】

【Hahaha! That’s the first time I’ve heard Youth’s voice. I love that “young wolf” tone!】

【What is going on?!】

【Did HOG have a team dinner today? Is everyone drunk?】

【Calm down, who in PUBG doesn’t like God Qi? Why are you guys so excited?】

【AHHHH I can’t handle this! I’ve been shipping these two since the Flame Cup! Does anyone else know Qi Zui coached Youth back then?】

Upstairs, the corners of Qi Zui’s mouth slowly, inch by inch, curled into a smirk.

He cleared his throat, adjusted his headset, and marked a red point on the map. His voice carried an involuntary hint of a smile. “Dort, das rote Zeichen.” (There, the red marker.)

The German player agreed, and the other silent teammate pulled up in a car to pick them all up. They outran the blue zone and drove to the buildings Qi Zui had marked in the Safe Zone before distributing gear.

Qi Zui naturally took a long-range sniper rifle. His prediction was spot on—the second circle centered right on them. They didn’t need to move, so they held the buildings, each covering a different direction to “collect deliveries” from players fleeing the zone.

Qi Zui was guarding the second floor. As he aimed through his scope, his peripheral vision caught Youth standing behind him.

Yu Yang’s character hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked over to Qi Zui and dropped a Med Kit at his feet.

A Med Kit—the only item in the game that restores a character to 100% health in one go. It was a rare and valuable consumable.

A year ago, Yu Yang had done the same thing, bringing the ice cream provided by the organizers to Qi Zui’s room every night.

Qi Zui didn’t actually like ice cream that much, and Haagen-Dazs wasn’t a luxury to him.

But he knew that Yu Yang liked it.

Yu Yang only gave things to him because he thought they were good.

Qi Zui exhaled slowly and opened his mic. “You don’t want it?”

Yu Yang didn’t know Qi Zui was streaming. Perhaps afraid the two random teammates would hear, he whispered quickly: “You use it.”

With that, Yu Yang dropped two bottles of painkillers, turned around, and bolted back downstairs to cover his assigned side.

Qi Zui’s heart felt like a tangled mess. He stopped teasing, and Yu Yang didn’t open his mic again. With the two of them on the team, they naturally won the match with a “Winner Winner Chicken Dinner.”

The German player was reluctant to leave. “Sehr glücklich, Sie zu treffen!” (So happy to have met you!)

Qi Zui smiled. Before exiting the lobby, he said with genuine sincerity: “China und Deutschland Freundschaft für immer.” (May the friendship between China and Germany last forever.)

Since it was a random queue, Qi Zui was alone on the lobby screen once the match ended.

In the streaming assistant, the chat was a frenzy of scrolling text. Qi Zui ignored it, staring at his character in a daze for a moment before saying tonelessly: “That’s it for tonight’s stream. Goodnight, everyone.”

He ended the stream and took off his headset.

*****

In the first-floor training room, Yu Yang also sat in a daze for a long time. Once his heartbeat finally settled into a normal rhythm, he hesitated repeatedly before opening the game menu, typing in Qi Zui’s ID, and sending a friend request.

He waited for nearly half an hour, but Qi Zui didn’t respond.

Yu Yang rubbed his face, replaying the details of the match in his head. The more he thought about it, the more he felt like a complete idiot. To anyone with a sane mind, it would look like he was desperately trying to curry favor.

Qi Zui hadn’t mocked him to his face, likely only because there were random players who recognized him. Qi Zui was a gentleman, after all… he wouldn’t embarrass him in front of strangers.

Putting himself in Qi Zui’s shoes, Yu Yang figured the man was already doing him a favor by not messing with him. Qi Zui probably wanted to draw a clear line between them—he likely just didn’t think Yu Yang was worth the effort of ridiculing anymore.

Feeling restless, Yu Yang took off his headset and stood up, intending to go wash his face.

The moment he stepped out of the training room, he froze.

It was the middle of the night, and the first-floor hallway was empty, lit only by a few spotlights. At the other end of the corridor, the tall figure of Qi Zui was leaning against the wall, his team jacket draped over his shoulders.

In his hand, he held a tube of burn ointment.

Qi Zui looked at Yu Yang, his tone calm and steady. “Does your hand hurt?”

Support AWM: PUBG