A Top-Tier Account in the Rift and a Loudmouthed Roommate

In a cramped alley behind Jiang University, Chen Ziang stood outside an internet cafe called Interstellar Spacetime, his face so dark it looked like water could drip from it.

He pushed open the glass door plastered with yellowing posters.

A sour, pungent stench—a blend of pickled mustard green instant noodles, cheap secondhand cigarette smoke, and the fermented odor of men's sneakers-slammed into his face like a solid wall.

"Come on, Ziang! What are you standing there for?"

Han Dong gripped Chen Ziang's arm with one hand and dragged the local young master into a slum he had never set foot in before.

"It's my treat today, buddy. I've got to let you experience the joy of getting carried to victory in the Rift!"

Chen Ziang was pushed into a gaming chair with peeling edges.

He felt like he could barely breathe.

He looked down at the greasy keyboard in front of him, with cigarette ash and unidentified food crumbs wedged between the keys, and his germaphobe alarm instantly went off at full blast.

Gritting his teeth, Chen Ziang pulled a packet of premium antibacterial wet wipes from the pocket of his camouflage uniform.

He drew one out.

And scrubbed the mouse vigorously.

After the mouse came the keyboard, and he didn't even spare the edge of the desk. Only after using three wipes did he reluctantly let his precious hand hover over it.

Han Dong, meanwhile, was like a fish in water.

He expertly scanned his ID card to turn on a computer, his booming voice especially loud in the internet cafe.

"Boss! Two bottles of iced black tea! Put them on my tab!"

Then he turned around, thumped his chest, and made a promise.

"Boss Chen, just pick a champion who can hang onto me today. I'm the number one jungle Lee Sin in Northeast China. Today, I'll carry you through the Rift like you own the place!"

The computer screens lit up.

Sitting side by side, they opened the client.

Chen Ziang's gaming skills were outrageously bad, but he had his own unshakable philosophy of life.

His skills could be bad enough to make people eat an extra bowl of rice.

But he could never lose face.

He expertly typed in his account name and password and hit enter.

The interface finished loading.

Rank: Iron.

But the moment he opened his collection page, the entire screen seemed to light up with the blinding radiance of money.

Every champion unlocked.

Every skin unlocked.

Dragon Fist Lee Sin, all kinds of prestige collector's editions, and limited-edition skins no longer available, which money alone couldn't draw, packed the entire screen.

Han Dong, who was about to pick a plain, unassuming free champion, happened to turn his head slightly.

Han Dong froze on the spot.

He rubbed his eyes, which grew wider and wider, until his face was practically pressed against Chen Ziang's monitor.

"Holy shit!!!"

The unmistakably Northeastern curse exploded through the smoke-filled internet cafe like a thunderclap out of a clear sky.

"Boss Chen! Did you kidnap XXX?!"

Han Dong was so excited he nearly jumped out of his peeling gaming chair, his trembling finger pointing at the gleaming golden Lee Sin skin on the screen.

"Is that fucking Dragon Fist Lee Sin? And you've got Prestige Kai'Sa too? Holy mother of mine, did you rob a bank to pay for this account?!"

His exaggerated shouting immediately drew the attention of the guys at computers in the surrounding rows.

Several guys playing games with headphones on took them off and craned their necks to peer over. A murmur of whispers immediately rose through the cafe.

Chen Ziang sat in his chair.

On the surface, he frowned slightly and shot the shouting Han Dong a look of disdain, but the pleasure of being praised was already bubbling up inside him.

"What a fuss over nothing."

He pretended to scroll through the page casually.

"I just spent a little money on them. Hurry up and start the game. Cut the chatter."

The game officially began.

Chen Ziang picked a limited-edition skin with the flashiest skill effects, one that crackled with lightning even when he walked, and headed confidently to the top lane.

However.

The tangible boost of money couldn't change the fact that his mechanics were Iron-tier.

Less than three minutes after reaching his lane.

Chen Ziang made a ridiculous positioning mistake, and the enemy top laner seized the chance and took him out with one skill combo.

The screen instantly turned gray.

The first blood announcement rang through his headphones.

Before Chen Ziang could respawn, a taunt from the opposing player popped up in all-chat.

[That top laner on the other team is one of those skin dogs with more money than brains, huh?]

[I'm dying. Wearing such an expensive skin and getting beaten like a grandson.]

Chen Ziang's face instantly darkened as he read the words on the screen.

Back in Jiangcheng, he was a young master of some standing who moved in elite circles. Since when could some stranger online point a finger at his nose and curse him out?

Gritting his teeth, he held his hands over the freshly sanitized keyboard.

He rapidly searched for words, preparing a curse that would preserve his dignity as a young master while utterly humiliating his opponent.

He had just typed "you" into the chat box.

A burst of explosive keyboard clatter suddenly came from beside him.

"Clackety-clack-clack-!"

Han Dong's fingers flew wildly across the greasy keyboard as if they were having a seizure, moving so fast they almost left afterimages. The burly Northeastern man's anger shot straight to his head.

He simply couldn't stand watching one of his dorm brothers get cursed out to his face.

Chen Ziang still hadn't sent his "you."

In all-chat, four messages from Han Dong's account had already rattled out like machine-gun fire.

[What are you barking for, dog? Are you the only one left on your family register, so you're here begging for attention?]

[When you were born, did the nurse toss you in the air and forget to catch you? If you're missing a brain stem, get it treated. Don't come acting crazy in the Rift!]

[Scatter some rice on a keyboard and a chicken pecking at it would move more smoothly than you! You're so smug over one kill, people would think you'd won a Nobel Prize!]

[You dare insult our top laner? Your daddy here is going to twist your head off and kick it around like a chamber pot today!]

The four lines of abuse were vicious and relentless, every word drawing blood. They didn't contain a single swear word, yet they thoroughly dealt with eighteen generations of the opponent's ancestors.

Chen Ziang stared dumbfounded at the messages scrolling across the chat.

He silently pressed backspace, deleting his feeble little "you."

Once Han Dong had finished cursing out the opponent, he turned around, his rugged face instantly switching to an expression as considerate and gentle as a spring breeze.

"Boss Chen, it's fine! Don't take it to heart!"

As Han Dong steered his jungler toward the top lane, he loudly comforted Chen Ziang.

"The mouse in this crappy cafe is too sticky, and the keyboard sticks too. They seriously mess with a high-end player's micro like yours! It's totally normal that you slipped up just now. Even Faker would've inted!"

"When you respawn, stay under the turret and watch how I deal with this punk!"

Listening to Han Dong's attempt to save his face, which even he himself found ridiculous, Chen Ziang couldn't help the violent twitch at the corner of his mouth.

But for some reason.

Hearing Han Dong throw all concern for appearances aside and curse someone out for him in the internet cafe, the anger that had been bottled up inside him miraculously vanished without a trace.

He even felt a little secret satisfaction.

From that moment on, the enemy top laner faced the darkest fifteen minutes of his life.

Han Dong practically moved into the brush in the top lane.

"Boss Chen, get back! I'll tank the damage this time!"

"Get him! Kick him in the face! Boss Chen, take the kill! Nice!"

Han Dong's booming Northeastern voice rang throughout the internet cafe. He waved his arms and legs in excitement, shouting instructions while using his deft mechanics to gank the opponent until he couldn't take care of himself.

One gank.

Two ganks.

He ganked the opponent until he didn't even dare leave his turret, much less type another word in all-chat.

Everyone in the internet cafe couldn't help stopping what they were doing to watch the burly Northeastern man fiercely defend his own and carry his teammate to victory.

In less than twenty minutes.

All five opponents completely lost their composure. Unable to take the torment any longer, they voted to surrender.

When they walked out of the internet cafe.

The sunlight outside was still dazzling, and a wave of heat washed over them.

Chen Ziang raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun.

He brushed at the cheap cigarette smell clinging to his camouflage uniform with a look of distaste, his brow slightly furrowed.

"So noisy."

He glanced at Han Dong out of the corner of his eye. Han Dong was still excitedly going over the game.

"All that yelling in there was beneath a gentleman."

Han Dong scratched his head cheerfully, not taking Chen Ziang's disdain seriously at all.

"What else was I supposed to do? Nobody gets to bully my brother."

Chen Ziang forced himself to turn his head away and not look at him.

But he had to admit.

He felt more at ease than ever.

Growing up, the circles he moved in had been full of exchanges of favors, false affection, and scheming. Most of the rich second-generation friends around him fawned over him because his surname was Chen and his family had assets worth hundreds of millions.

But Han Dong was different.

This rough Northeastern guy, who would insist on splitting even a meal, had defended him in the game with everything he had, supported him with pure enthusiasm, and protected his own as if his life depended on it.

That was precisely what Chen Ziang lacked most.

It gave this young master, who was used to disguising himself beneath a hedgehog's shell, a rare kind of emotional value.

The two passed a convenience store by the street.

Chen Ziang stopped.

"Wait here."

With those two words, he strode into the convenience store's air-conditioned interior.

A moment later, he emerged carrying two bottles of the store's most expensive imported chilled sports drink.

He walked up to Han Dong.

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed him one of the bottles, its surface beaded with water.

"It's on me."

Chen Ziang unscrewed the cap of his own bottle, his tone still that of a proud, prickly young master.

"You paid for the internet, so I'll buy the drinks. I won't take advantage of you."

Han Dong caught the drink cleanly.

The chill of the bottle spread through his palm and over his whole body, and he broke into a grin that showed a mouthful of white teeth.

"Thanks, Boss Chen!"

He unscrewed the cap, downed more than half the bottle in one go, and let out a satisfied burp.

Then Han Dong casually reached out with a thick arm and slung it around Chen Ziang's shoulders.

Chen Ziang's body stiffened slightly.

Given his usual germaphobia and habits, he would definitely have shaken off that sweaty arm immediately.

But this time he didn't.

He merely curled his lip in distaste and let Han Dong keep his arm around his shoulders as they walked together toward the Jiang University dormitory, braving the cicadas' cries and the waves of heat.